The oppressive heat of the fire pressed against my skin, making it feel as if the very air had turned into a furnace. The building, once a place of sanctuary, was now reduced to nothing but a twisted skeleton of charred wood and metal. The flames hungrily consumed it, their crackling laughter mingling with the deafening roars of destruction. A part of me wanted to run, to escape this nightmare, but my feet felt rooted to the ground, as if I had been trapped by some unseen force.

The lawn that had once been a lush green carpet was now a blackened wasteland, the grass reduced to ash. Broken branches from what had once been strong trees were scattered like forgotten relics, their twisted forms adding to the overwhelming feeling of devastation. The air was thick with the suffocating scent of burning plastic and charred remains, making it difficult to breathe.

But it was the bodies—the lifeless forms—scattered across the grounds that made my blood run cold. Their vacant eyes stared into nothingness, their bodies twisted in unnatural positions as if death had claimed them in their final moments. Some were burned beyond recognition, their skin blackened and blistered, while others seemed to have been frozen in time, their faces contorted in agonized expressions, as if trapped in an eternal scream.

My stomach churned, a wave of nausea washing over me. I felt dizzy, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was witnessing. How could this happen? Why? I wanted to shout, to demand answers, but the words caught in my throat. Nothing made sense. I could only stand there, frozen in place, helpless against the devastation unfolding around me.

Then, through the thickening smoke, a figure emerged—a blur of movement that slowly solidified into the form of Samiro. Her usually bright eyes, so full of life, were now wide with terror, her face pale and smeared with blood. Her clothes hung in tatters, as if she had been caught in a storm of destruction. She stumbled toward me, her movements unsteady, and I could see the weight of fear bearing down on her.

Without thinking, I rushed forward, my arms instinctively wrapping around her waist to steady her. She leaned into me, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. Her breath was shaky, warm against my skin, but it did nothing to quell the chill that had settled deep in my bones.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, desperate to understand, to grasp at any shred of explanation. I held her at arm's length, my eyes scanning her for injuries, but it was clear she had seen something far worse than any physical harm.

Her eyes darted around, as if searching for something, or someone. "The—the dragon," she stammered, her voice barely audible, like a ghost of a sound. "It was looking for you."

The words struck me like a lightning bolt, sending a jolt of fear through my veins. A dragon? I scanned the chaos around us, but the only thing I could see was the fire, its hunger consuming everything in its path. No dragon. No creature of myth and legend. Just destruction, just madness.

But then... something stirred within me. An uneasy feeling gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. It was as if I could sense something watching us. I couldn't explain it, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I pulled Samiro closer, trying to calm her, to reassure her that she was safe, even though I wasn't sure either of us was. "What do you mean? What dragon? What happened here?" I asked, my voice soft, but full of concern.

She shook her head, her tears falling freely now. "I don't know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I was in class, and then... then everything just... went crazy. The dragon appeared, and it was destroying everything. It was looking for you. I'm sure of it."

Her words were filled with such raw conviction, and the terror in her eyes only deepened my sense of dread. A dragon. Looking for me. I couldn't make sense of it. It felt like something ripped straight out of a nightmare, but the destruction, the fear, the sense of impending doom—it was all too real.

I held her tighter, trying to comfort her, but the questions in my mind only grew louder. How could a dragon exist in this world? And why would it be looking for me? The answers felt just out of reach, but I knew one thing for certain: this wasn't the end. Whatever was happening, it had only just begun.

As I looked into Samiro's frightened eyes, I knew that our lives—everything we had known—was about to change forever.

SCENEBREAK

The penthouse felt too small, suffocating under the weight of Luke's anxiety. His steps were quick and restless, the echo of his feet on the polished marble reverberating through the vast space like a drumbeat. The room was bathed in soft golden light, the city skyline outside stretching endlessly, yet the elegance of the setting seemed at odds with the storm swirling within him. His usually composed figure was now taut, his movements sharp and erratic, as if trying to outrun the growing knot of fear tightening in his chest.

Jessie's gaze never wavered as she sat on the plush couch, her hands resting in her lap, but her eyes—gentle yet concerned—never strayed from him. She could feel the energy in the room, thick with his tension, and her heart clenched with empathy. She had seen him like this before, lost in his own spiraling thoughts, caught between the overwhelming need to act and the helplessness of being unable to do anything.

"Luke, please calm down," she said softly, her voice a soothing balm against the storm. She watched him pace again, his tall figure cutting through the room, but her words barely seemed to penetrate the whirlpool of his thoughts. "I'm sure Y/N will be fine. We'll hear from them soon, and they'll be safe and sound."

Her words were meant to comfort, but they hung in the air, almost like a fragile thread. She saw the way his jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a thin line as he walked faster, as if the speed of his movements could somehow outrun the worry gnawing at him. His bright blue eyes, usually so calm and piercing, were clouded now, a storm raging in them that Jessie couldn't ignore.

Luke didn't slow. His long, powerful strides seemed to eat up the distance between him and the glass wall, his shoulders stiff with tension. The light from the city outside reflected off his skin, accentuating the sharp lines of his profile. Jessie stood, the soft click of her heels against the floor breaking the rhythm of his pacing. Her presence was calm, measured, in contrast to his frantic energy, but she knew better than to show the same level of distress. She had learned long ago that in moments like these, someone had to be the steadying force.

With a gentle but firm hand, she reached out and caught his arm, halting his movements mid-step. "Luke, stop," she said, her voice still soft, but there was a firmness there now, a quiet authority that demanded his attention. "You're going to wear yourself out. We'll get news soon, I'm sure of it. Y/N is strong and resourceful, and they'll be okay."

For a heartbeat, he didn't move. The tension in his body seemed to freeze, as if her touch had momentarily stilled the hurricane inside him. His eyes flickered to hers, and Jessie could see the flicker of raw emotion in them—something unspoken, something deeper than just fear. It was fear, yes, but it was also something else—something darker, a helplessness he refused to show.

His gaze softened for a fraction of a second, and for the briefest moment, Jessie thought she saw the vulnerability he kept hidden from the world. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, and with a quick shake of his head, his walls snapped back up. His jaw clenched again, the muscle twitching under his skin. "I have to do something," he muttered, his voice low and hoarse, the edge of frustration sharp in every syllable. "I have to make sure they're safe."

The words hit her like a physical blow, the intensity of his voice, the weight of the responsibility he placed on himself. Jessie could feel the pressure of his determination, the burden he carried for Y/N's safety, and it was clear that it consumed him. She understood that feeling all too well—the crushing need to protect someone you loved, the fear of not being able to do enough.

Jessie stepped closer, her fingers still gently gripping his arm, her touch a reminder of her presence. She knew Luke well enough to recognize the turmoil that churned within him, and she knew that no matter what she said, nothing could truly settle his mind until he had answers. But for now, she could offer him what he needed most—reassurance.

Her voice softened, a steady anchor in the storm of his thoughts. "We'll do everything we can, Luke. We'll find out what's going on, and we'll make sure Y/N is safe. But for now, please, just try to calm down. You're not going to be any help to anyone if you're wound up like a spring."

Luke's eyes searched hers again, intense and searching, as if trying to find something—something to latch onto that would steady him. Jessie didn't look away. She met his gaze with all the quiet strength she could muster, a silent promise that they would face this together.

He inhaled sharply, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, his shoulders eased just a little, the tension in his body softening. It wasn't much, but it was something. Slowly, he let his breath out, the storm inside him not yet calmed, but at least for now, he could stand still.

"Alright," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we stay ready. We won't wait idly." His words weren't a promise, but a declaration. Jessie nodded, understanding the weight behind them.

The penthouse was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the city below. Outside the glass, the world moved on, but inside, the storm was far from over.