Chapter 11: Beneath the Falling Sky

  RATATATATAT!

  The gunfire tore through the alley like a thunderclap.

  Lior flinched, eyes squeezing shut. He’d failed to move—failed to save him.

  He waited for the silence that should’ve followed… but it never came.

  Instead came grunts.

  CRACK!

  Bats on helmets.

  THUD!

  Bodies hitting soaked pavement.

  KSHH-CLONG!

  Chains whipped. Pipes slammed.

  He opened his eyes and the shadows had erupted. Figures lunged from the alleys, moving like ghosts born of smoke and rain.Chains snapped. Metal clashed. The storm itself seemed to roar with them as Pistol’s crew.The same ragged boys who once fought him in the alley—descended with feral unity.

  One soldier toppled under a swing of an iron chain. Another’s mask shattered beneath a steel pipe with a sharp.

  KRAK!

  “GO!” one of them barked, glancing back at Lior and Pistol between swings.

  Another holding off a soldier turned and yelled with ferocity.

  “What the hell are you standing here for?! Get outta here!”

  Lior’s throat tightened. “But I—”

  “Forget the past!” another shouted, smashing his bat into a soldier’s ribs.

  “You helped one of us, that makes you one of us!! If they want you so bad, they’ll bleed for it!”

  Pistol hesitated, eyes flickering with the weight of loyalty. His knuckles clenched, voice cracking as he tried to speak.

  “Guys I—”.

  “Pistol!” one of his boys growled, grappling a soldier to the ground.

  “Don’t even think about it. Go. We can handle this. Trust us!”

  For a long second, Pistol froze. Then his jaw set. He stepped back, grabbed Lior’s arm.

  “Come on,” he muttered.

  Together, the two staggered into the street, leaving the clash of steel and fury behind them.

  Lior’s chest heaved, his head felt like it could explode at any minute. Every step dragged his body closer to collapse.

  It wasn’t just the fights. It was Slipstream, tearing through his nerves like fire each time it saved him. His body was starting to fail him.But when he looked back, when he saw Pistol’s crew standing their ground in the rain, he felt the faintest flicker of something steadier than fear.

  Not everyone runs. Not everyone breaks.

  ?

  (45 minutes until impact)

  BOOM! — thunder cracked overhead, rattling the shattered glass in broken storefronts. Sirens wailed in the distance, almost drowned out by the chaos in the streets.

  Ayasha’s fist drove into a soldier’s jaw with a clean SNAP! Her body pivoted with precision. The man collapsed without a sound.

  Beside her, Cael darted just out of the baton’s reach, but his boot skidded on the wet pavement. Instinct took over—he grabbed the soldier’s arm just to keep from falling. The stumble yanked the man sideways, and Cael’s own weight swung him straight into a rusted pole with a loud CLANG! The soldier crumpled, out cold before he hit the ground.

  Cael stayed there for a second, wide-eyed, still half crouched where he’d caught himself.

  “I… uh… didn’t mean to do that,” he said quietly, almost unsure if it was okay to claim.

  Ayasha gave him a flat look — one raised brow and the faintest smirk that said everything without a word.

  She exhaled, brushing mud from her knuckles. Cael stood up, scanning for the next wave.

  A dry, familiar voice cut in.

  “Well,” Carter drawled as he stepped from the shadows, brushing dust from his coat, “guess you two don’t really need me here, huh?”

  Ayasha looked up, relief flashing in her eyes—but her tone carried something sharper.

  “Have you seen Lior?”

  Cael’s jaw tightened. His eyes swept the burning street, but Lior wasn’t there.

  “We lost him when we entered the city,” he muttered, voice clipped.

  “He’s so careless… Doesn’t he get it? He’s the reason they’re here. They want him alone.”

  A new voice came from behind them. Calm. Stern.

  “That’s exactly why he’s acting this way.”

  They turned to see Rei dragging an unconscious soldier across the pavement. She dropped him unceremoniously, her boots crunching against shattered glass.

  Her gaze was steady, her tone even.

  “The odds keep stacking against us.”

  “…like pancakes,” Carter muttered, trying not to laugh.

  Rei shot him a sharp look.

  “Not a good time.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Carter sighed, raising his hands in surrender.

  “Sorry. My stomach was doing the thinking my brain should’ve been doing.”

  Rei shook her head but didn’t argue. Her eyes sharpened as she looked back at Ayasha and Cael.

  “Don’t worry about Lior. We trained him his whole life for this moment. Right now, we get as many people to the bunkers as we can.”

  What followed blurred together into a tempest of fire and rain.

  Ayasha hoisted crying children from collapsed stairwells, shielding them with her body as falling debris crashed down around her.

  Cael guided terrified families through side streets, rerouting them away from danger with split-second calculations that saved dozens from crossfire.

  Carter cracked jokes even as he fought, knocking out soldiers with swift precision and barking orders at civilians like a drill sergeant with an excited look on his face.

  Rei’s strikes were silent and surgical—every move efficient, every enemy dropped before they realized she was there.

  One by one, they funneled civilians into the bunkers, guiding the flow like shepherds driving their flock from wolves.

  The sound of panicked screams dulled into the echo of heavy doors rattling from the series of powerful wind gusts.

  ?

  (30 minutes until impact)

  At last, the four of them stumbled into one of the main bunkers. The steel doors groaned as the final wave of evacuees was herded inside, the chamber swelling with bodies.

  The air was thick—hundreds of people packed inside, the smell of sweat, wet clothing, and raw fear clinging to the walls.Children sobbed into their mothers’ coats. Police officers and volunteers tried to calm the panic, but the storm outside made the ground tremble with every strike of thunder.

  Ayasha leaned against the wall, scanning the bunker entrance. Cael braced his hands on his knees, sweat dripping onto the steel floor. Carter dropped onto a supply crate like it was a barstool, grinning despite the exhaustion. Rei stayed standing, her eyes sharp, silently lurking amongst the crowd.

  But as the crowd shifted, Ayasha’s eyes narrowed. She looked once more at the sealed door—searching.

  “…Where’s Lior?”

  The words cut through the bunker like a blade.

  No one answered.

  The storm roared louder, the thunder shaking dust from the ceiling. The countdown burned in all of their minds.

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  Thirty minutes left.

  And he still wasn’t there.

  The storm screamed above them, a sound like the earth itself tearing apart. Inside the bunker, the reinforced door rattled under the sheer force of the wind. Screams broke out as the steel frame shuddered, hinges groaning like they might snap.

  ?

  (15 minutes until impact)

  “Close it! Now!” a voice bellowed above the storm.

  The police chief, broad shouldered, rain slicker plastered to his frame, stood by the manual release, one hand on the great steel lever.

  “If we don’t seal this door we lose everyone in here!”

  “Hold on!” Ayasha shouted back, voice cutting raw through the howl.

  She spun from the door, eyes wild against the strobing lightning.

  “We still have someone out there!”

  “We don’t have time!” the chief roared, rain streaming down his face.

  “Every second this stays open risks all of you!”

  Carter stepped forward then, and for the first time his usual smirk was gone. His voice came low, steady, and deadly serious.

  “Five minutes. That’s all we’re asking for. Just… five.”

  Something in his tone — the weight, the absolute refusal to let go — made the chief pause. He looked at Carter, then at the young fighters braced against the gale, and for a heartbeat the hardened officer hesitated.

  “…Five minutes,” he said at last, jaw tight. “Then we seal it. No exceptions.”

  “Five minutes,” Carter echoed, eyes never leaving the storm.

  The sound outside was apocalyptic: a bellow of thunder, the banshee wail of wind, debris pummeling metal with bone-deep tremors.

  Ayasha pressed her shoulder against the door and held fast, mind screaming his name.

  Lior… where are you?

  The seconds crawled.

  ?

  (10 minutes until impact)

  The storm no longer thundered overhead—it lashed like something alive. Trees cracked and fell in splintered arcs, their trunks shattering against concrete. The wind pummeled the streets with such force it felt like it wanted to strip the skin from their bones. Rain didn’t fall in drops anymore—it came in sheets.

  Inside the bunker, the countdown ended. Five long minutes.

  “Time’s up!” the police chief bellowed over the gale.

  His hand clamped the massive lever, ready to haul it shut.

  “No!” Ayasha’s voice tore through the chaos, raw and panicked.

  She lunged toward the door, rain-slick hair plastered to her face.

  “He’s still out there!”

  Rei’s face, usually unreadable, finally cracked. Fear flickered across her features, sharp and human.

  “Lior… come on,” she whispered at first, then shouted, voice breaking for the first time.

  “Come on!”

  The chief shook his head, jaw locked. “We can’t wait any longer.

  Another hit and this whole entryway gives!” He started to pull. The steel groaned, beginning its slow, inevitable swing inward.

  Ayasha shoved harder against the door frame, shaking with desperation.

  “Please!”

  Carter’s voice was low and grim beside her.

  “We gave him the time we had.” His fists clenched but he didn’t move to stop the chief — not with everyone's life on the line

  The door ground closer, metal shrieking against the storm. Wind punched through the narrowing gap in bursts so strong it staggered everyone bracing there.

  “Wait—” Cael’s eyes went wide, catching movement through the sheets of rain.

  He jabbed a trembling finger toward the street. “Look! What’s that?!”

  All heads whipped around toward the downpour. Through the haze of water and debris, two figures staggered into view.

  At first glance, it was impossible to tell who was holding who up—Lior or Pistol. One arm braced the other’s shoulder, but both were battered, both stumbling, both barely upright as the wind shoved them down the street.

  Behind them, Pistol’s crew appeared in the rain, their silhouettes hunched against the storm.

  The ground shook. A streetlight bent and collapsed across the road, sparks flaring as the wires snapped.

  Lior’s teeth clenched, his knees buckling, but he refused to stop. He dragged Pistol forward, or maybe it was Pistol dragging him, in the storm, the difference didn’t matter.

  Ahead, the bunker loomed, its steel frame glowing with emergency lights as the water climbed past their ankles.

  A worker in a raincoat waved frantically from the entrance.

  “Storm containment’s prepped!” someone shouted.

  “Get in!”

  BOOOOM!

  ?

  (6 minutes until impact)

  The air shifted instantly—heavy, damp, packed with bodies. Hundreds of people filled the chamber, crammed shoulder to shoulder. Medics scrambled with stretchers. The walls vibrated with each thunderclap outside.

  Lior stepped in first, Pistol leaning on him, both of them dripping, both barely able to breathe.

  “Lior!”

  The voice carried across the bunker.

  Ayasha barreled into him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Her grip was fierce, trembling. Relief flooded her face—but it lasted only a heartbeat before she pulled back and slugged him in the shoulder with her fist.

  “Don’t run off like that again!” she snapped, voice breaking halfway between fury and fear.

  Lior winced, rubbing the spot. He almost smiled. “Yeah… got it.”

  Cael came up next, his expression torn between scolding and relief. He looked Lior over with a tired smirk.

  “You okay? You look like you lost a round with a wall.”

  Pistol muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue as his crew slipped in behind them, soaked and battered. The weight in the air between him and Lior was different now — less rivalry, less hostility.

  At the far end, Carter tapped furiously at the console.

  BEEP! BEEP!

  Data cascaded in jagged lines.

  “It’s slowing…” he muttered, his voice lower than usual, stripped of sarcasm. “Its just sitting over the top of us.”

  Rei stepped closer, her face shadowed. Her voice came out quiet, but firm.

  “Can you tell where it's being controlled from?”

  Carter exhaled, his tone grim.

  “Got it. I tapped into an American satellite feed— see these two spikes? The energy output’s insane. Those are the anchors. That’s where they’re steering it from.”

  Carter tapped tapped the screen. Two feeds glowed side by side:

  The satellite view showed two pulsing signals far across the globe. One deep in the South Pole. The other in the North.

  Ayasha’s head snapped toward him. “Wait — the poles? Like… Antarctica?”

  “And Santa’s workshop,” Carter said dryly, jaw tight.

  “That’s how they’ve been moving storms for over a century.”

  Cael frowned, incredulous.

  “No one’s ever found them?”

  “Because they’ve been hiding them,” Carter cut in, voice like a blade.

  “Everything staged from the ends of the earth — only few would dare trek to those two places. .

  “Then we tear them down,” Lior said, voice burning with conviction.

  Carter looked up sharply.

  “Kid… you don’t get it. Yea, shut one down and their whole grip crumbles. But to reach it—” he broke off, heavy with the impossibility, “—you’d have to survive the pole itself. And Potestas doesn’t leave its heart unguarded.”

  Lior turned, back facing Carter and the others as his voice snapped with ferocity.

  “Too many people have died… have lost everything because of me… And the only way to stop this is for us to stop them.”

  Carter’s grin grew wider as his head tilted back.

  Brock… Echo… I hope yall are watching this.

  ?

  (1 minutes until impact)

  The thunder overhead hit like artillery fire. Dust shook loose from the ceiling. Children huddled against their parents.

  Lior’s chest rose and fell, every breath shallow and heavy, like he could feel the storm pressing against the bunker walls.

  For the first time, he understood: this wasn’t just weather.

  It was war.

  And the storm was calling his name.

  ?

  (0 minutes until impact)

  FWOOSH!

  Tthe power died.

  BZZZT!

  Lights flickered out.

  Darkness swallowed them whole.

  The ground rumbled. Screams echoed. Metal screamed beyond the door.

  Then—

  KRA-BOOOOM!

  The sky itself ripped open.

  Men, Women, Children… Screams meshed together becoming one single uproar within the bunker.

  Minutes stretched like hours in the dark. The walls groaned, the floor trembled, and every crash above felt like the city was being torn apart.

  ?

  At last the rage outside began to fade.

  The pounding softened to a heavy, distant rumble. The silence that followed felt unreal — fragile, too thin to trust.

  “Sound off! Anyone hurt?” the police chief’s voice broke through.

  For a moment no one answered; then scattered murmurs rose, weary but alive. He let out a rough breath and signaled toward the lever.

  When the doors finally creaked open, the city outside was unrecognizable.

  Entire blocks were flattened, trees ripped bare of branches, debris scattered across flooded streets. The air smelled of mud and burnt metal.

  Families staggered through the door, sobbing openly as they looked upon what little remained of their beloved city. Some fell to their knees in despair, clutching the ground as though it might bring back what was lost.

  Pistol collapsed as soon as he stepped into the open air.

  His knees struck the ground hard, his chest heaving as he stared at the hollow ruin of his city. The two children he had helped earlier rushed to his side, clutching his arms.

  Ayasha walked slowly to him, crouching down, resting a hand on his back. He didn’t look up — his body trembled too hard. But for the first time, his walls were gone.

  Lior stood nearby, fists trembling, staring at the devastation.

  How could anyone do this? How could anyone take joy in destroying lives like this?

  As if his thoughts shifted, he began to become furious. Not just at Potestas, but himself as well.

  Why am I bringing so much carnage to people’s lives? Their homes, their lives, will never be the same… because of me.

  Behind them, Cael stood stiff, face in shock at the devastation.

  The moment stretched, fragile and raw.

  Finally, Carter cleared his throat.

  “We can’t stay here,” he said, voice low, almost respectful for once.

  “They’ll be scouring this place at any moment.”

  The group began to gather themselves.

  Pistol pushed to his feet slowly, still shaking. His crew approached, some bloodied, some holding each other up.

  One of them gripped Pistol’s shoulder firmly.

  Pistol looked at Lior. For a moment, the usual sharpness in his eyes was gone. Only exhaustion — and a flicker of respect.

  “…Guess I owe you. Don’t think I’ll forget it.”

  Lior nodded. Words weren’t needed. Between them, an unspoken truce settled in the ruins of the storm.

  Ayasha squeezed Pistol’s arm one last time.

  “Take care of yourself.” Before stepping back to Lior and Cael.

  Rei and Carter were already waiting.

  They turned from the wreckage. Boots crunched against wet rubble.

  The rain had thinned to a drizzle now, whispering across broken rooftops. The sky was pale and tired, painted in shades of gray that almost looked gentle if you didn’t know what came before.

  The storm had ended, leaving only silence and ruin in its wake. Streets drowned in water and ash stretched beneath a sky scarred by lightning. Survivors huddled together in the shelters, their cries soft and tired, the sound of grief heavy in the air. The storm left—but not in defeat.Its silence was a warning. Potestas had weathered years for a reason, and now its full force would awaken.

  And from this night forward, every ounce of that power would turn toward one purpose—

  ERASING HIM.

  End of Chapter 11

  Every breath, every step since the night fire rained down on the house has been a fight to keep moving.

  Through the silence that follows, one truth becomes clear:

  compared to the reach of Potestas, they are dust beneath the tide.

  But dust can rise.

  And when it does…

  Do you believe Pistol redeemed himself from the other chapter?