Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The fire had long since gone out.

Smoke still hung in the air behind them—thin, stubborn threads curling into the morning sky as if reluctant to let go.

No one looked back at the ruins of Milbury Hospital.
There was nothing left to see.

The five walked away from it. Each in silence.

Dani led. It wasn’t a plan, not really, but she had the clearest head—or at least the best performance of one.

Rahne stuck close behind her, hood up, eyes low.

Illyana walked on the outside edge of the group, arms crossed, her boots crunching through scorched grass like she couldn’t be bothered to soften a single footstep.

Roberto drifted near her but never quite close enough to walk with her.

Sam trailed at the back, looking like he belonged at the back of a funeral procession.

No one said a word for a long time.

There was too much between them now.

No resentment. Just rawness.

Like they were all walking around with their skin peeled off.

It had only been hours since the Demon Bear had vanished into smoke, taking Reyes and the walls of their prison with it.

The force field was gone.
The hospital had fallen.
The staff—if they’d ever existed—were ghosts.

They were free. Technically.
But it didn’t feel like freedom.

It felt like fallout.

By midday, they found a church.
It sat at the edge of a forgotten town—a few gas stations, closed-up storefronts, one bar that probably hadn’t served a drink in years.

The church had long since been abandoned, its steeple cracked, windows boarded, ivy twisting up its sides like veins.
A place that used to mean salvation, now rotting from the inside.

Rahne paused at the threshold like she was expecting it to reject her.

Dani looked at her carefully. “You okay?”

Rahne didn’t answer right away.
“Just… memories.”

Illyana snorted from behind them.
“Plenty of ghosts here, too.”

But Rahne stepped inside first.
The others followed.

The church creaked like it was trying to remember being holy. The pews were dusty and half-collapsed. Someone had left behind a box of canned soup and a cracked flashlight in the old office.

Roberto made a fire in a stone hearth that probably hadn’t been used in decades.

Illyana sat near it, not for warmth—just for something to stare at that wasn’t anyone else.

Dani stayed near Rahne.
They spoke in low voices, but not for long.
Eventually, they just sat together, quiet.

Sam didn’t sit with the others. As soon as the sun went down, he took to pacing outside. Said he was keeping watch.
No one had asked him to.
Illyana knew it wasn’t about the watch.

Later that night, when the fire had burned low and the others were finally quiet, Sam was still outside, sitting on the front steps of the church with his hoodie pulled over his head.

Illyana stepped out into the cold and sat down next to him. Not close. Just near enough to count.
Neither said anything for a long time.

Finally, Sam said, “You ever sleep?”

Illyana didn’t look at him. “You ever stop feeling guilty?”
That shut him up.

He let his hands fall between his knees, fingers clenching. He didn’t want to talk about the mine again—not to her. Not to the one who stared fear in the face with a sword in hand like it owed her something.

“I saw ‘em,” he muttered. “The Smiling Men. Wasn’t even my fear, but I can’t get ‘em outta my head.”

Illyana’s face didn’t change. She turned to look at him then.
“You didn’t run,” she said.
Sam let out a breath. “Maybe I should’ve.”
Illyana shook her head. “No.”
The way she said it—it sounded like she understood.

Roberto couldn’t sleep. Again.

The fire was almost dead now.
Lockheed was curled up beside it, little puffs of magical steam drifting from his nostrils.

Dani slept across the room, shoulder to shoulder with Rahne.
Rahne’s hand twitched in her sleep, like she was chasing something. Or running from it.

Roberto leaned back against the crumbling wall and watched Illyana through a crack in the doorway.
She was still outside with Sam. He didn’t know why that bugged him so much.

Okay. He did.
Illyana didn’t let people close. She tolerated people. Mocked them. Let them think they had the upper hand until she cut their legs out from under them.
But with Sam? She was different.
Roberto turned away.
He stared into the fire and felt the heat. The wrong kind. Screaming.
He blinked and saw her again. Juliana. Her silhouette in the flames. Behind her, stood another shape.
Illyana, her white hair catching fire, her smirk twisted into something else.
He blinked, and the vision was gone.
But it stayed with him, cold in his chest.

The next morning, everyone pretended to be okay.
Dani offered to lead training exercises. No one argued.

Sam tried to launch but slammed into a tree and knocked the wind out of himself.

Roberto flared up when Illyana got too close — reflexive, heat crackling off his skin.

She didn’t flinch. She just summoned her sword in a heartbeat—silver light tearing out of her hand like a warning.

Roberto stepped back, shaken. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You never do,” she said, the blade still glowing.

Sam stepped in. “That’s enough.”

Illyana sneered. “Oh, Cannonball’s the peacemaker now?”

“Better than actin’ like nothin ever gets to me,” Sam snapped.

Roberto turned away, fists clenched, shame creeping up his spine.

And Dani just watched, thinking: We’re going to fall apart before anything even finds us.

Chapter Text

The training ended in silence.
Illyana’s sword disappeared the second she turned her back. She stalked off toward the woods without another word, Lockheed flapping overhead like a shadow that refused to leave her.

Sam watched her go, jaw tight, something unreadable in his eyes.

Dani took a step to follow her.

Rahne reached out, stopping her gently with a shake of her head.

Dani paused, uncertain.

Rahne didn’t explain. She just looked past her—at Roberto.

He was rubbing the spot on his arm where the flare had escaped him. An unintentional burst of heat. It hadn’t hurt anyone, not this time—but the air still felt thick with it.
He felt Rahne’s eyes on him. Looked up.

Illyana dug the edge of her boot into the dirt, staring down at the space between trees like it might give her something to fight.
Lockheed hovered silently beside her—watchful. Waiting.

When Roberto approached, she didn’t turn around.
“You here to apologize or to blame me?” she asked.

“Neither,” Roberto said, hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“Figured you’d be out here… sharpening your sarcasm or summoning a portal to hell or whatever it is you do.”

Illyana gave a hollow laugh. “You should try it. Limbo’s great for people who hate small talk.”

He stepped a little closer.
“I didn’t mean to flare up like that,” he said.
“You just… caught me off guard.”

She turned to face him. “I don’t catch you off guard, Roberto. You let me get close.”

That hit something in him. She saw it in the way he looked away.

“I didn’t mean for it to be you in my illusion,” he muttered.

Illyana tilted her head. “It was your mind. Not mine.”

He met her gaze. “But it was you. Before Juliana.”
“I don’t know what that means,” he admitted.

Illyana looked him over, cool but not unkind.
“It means you’re scared of hurting people who get close. And I’m the kind you let close—just long enough to bleed.”

Roberto smiled without humor.
“So what, you think we cancel each other out?”

Illyana didn’t smile back. “We burn each other down.”
She turned and walked away.

Dani found Rahne lighting candles inside the church. Four of them.

“Who are they for?” Dani asked gently.

Rahne didn’t look up.
“Juliana. Sam’s dad. Illyana’s brother—I think his name was Piotr. And… the fourth one’s for someone who never existed.”

Dani stepped beside her. “You?”

Rahne’s hand trembled. “The version of me that could’ve loved you without fearing damnation.”

Silence filled the chapel. Even the wind outside seemed to still.

“You’re not damned,” Dani said, barely above a whisper.

Rahne didn’t answer. She didn’t blow out the candle either.

That night, Sam sat alone in one of the back pew, unwrapping the bandages on his hands.
More bruises. Split knuckles. He hadn’t hit anything this time—just gripped too hard during training. Or maybe he had and didn’t remember.
The pain blurred after a while.

He stared at the wounds.
A silent punishment.
Unspoken confession.

Illyana appeared beside him like a ghost—sat down without a sound.
“You’re bleeding.”

He didn’t hide it. “Guess I’m still no good without crashin’ into somethin.”

Illyana didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smirk.
Instead, “I saw you watching me. After I snapped at Roberto.”

Sam shrugged. “Wasn’t tryin’ to.”

“He lost control,” she said. “And that scared you.”

“No,” Sam said. “It scares him.”

Illyana tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. “So why are you still here?”

He blinked. “What?“

She looked at him then, eyes sharp like glass.
“Here. With us. With me.”

Sam frowned, slow and quiet. “What kinda question is that?”

“You’re not stuck here, Kentucky. You’ve got people waiting for you. You could crash home. Forget tomorrow. Some of us don’t get that.”

Sam flinched, but said quietly, “I don’t think I could face my family.”
He hesitated, then added, “And maybe… I see the kid you used to be. The one in that hallway. Cryin’ when the Smiling Men came. You looked—”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“—hurt. And vulnerable.”

Illyana’s expression didn’t change, but something in her shoulders tightened.

“Right. You saw that,” she said flatly.

“Yeah.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“I was six,” she said finally. “They took me and locked me in a world where no one came. So I made myself a weapon. That’s the only reason I’m still breathing.”

Sam didn’t look away. “You ain’t just a weapon.”
She laughed then—a sharp, brittle sound.

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I know you fought for us,” Sam said quietly.

Illyana turned her face away. “That doesn’t make me good.”

“Didn’t say it did. Just means… maybe you understand.”

She stood abruptly. “Don’t read into it.”

But before she walked off, she paused.
“You weren’t wrong about the Smiling Men,” she said. “They’re still in my head, too.”
Then she vanished back into the dark.

Dani woke up to find Rahne curled on the church steps outside, hugging her knees.
She joined her, sitting beside her without a word.

“Do you believe in God?” Rahne asked softly.

“I believe in us,” Dani said.
“In people surviving what they shouldn’t have.”

Rahne looked down. “I keep trying to pray it away. The feelings. The want.”

“You don’t have to pray it away.”

“But I was told I did,” Rahne whispered. “Since I was old enough to talk.”

Dani reached for her hand. Hesitated.
Rahne took it.

In the trees, far beyond the church, something watched.
The kids didn’t know it yet, but Essex had never truly lost them.
And fear—especially the kind they carried—was a powerful beacon.

Chapter Text

Morning found them in pieces.
Sam hadn’t come in after his watch.
They found him asleep near the edge of the woods, hoodie pulled over his face like the sun had wronged him personally.
Illyana didn’t comment.
She just tossed a can of cold ravioli next to him and walked away.

Dani tried to get them moving—light training, stretching, some kind of rhythm—but tension sat beneath their skin, a quiet hum waiting to become something louder.

And Rahne was the one who cracked. It started small. During a hand-to-hand drill with Dani, Rahne froze—rigid, wide-eyed. Like her body remembered something her mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

“Rahne?” Dani asked gently, backing off.
“You okay?”

Rahne stumbled away, nearly tripping. “Don’t—don’t touch me—”

“It’s just training—”

“You don’t understand!” Rahne’s voice cracked. “You never heard it, not the way I did! That every part of me was wrong! That you—” Her voice broke harder. “You’re the reason I’ll burn!”

Silence snapped the clearing shut.

Sam froze mid-lift. Illyana’s jaw tensed. Roberto looked like he’d been punched.

Dani stepped forward, calm but firm. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know what I mean anymore!” Rahne sobbed. “I want you—but every time I let myself, I feel like I’m tearing pieces off my soul.”

And then she turned and ran—half-wolf before she cleared the clearing, disappearing into the trees.

No one moved.
Then Illyana muttered, “Well, that went well.”

Dani shot her a look. “She’s not okay.”

“None of us are,” Illyana said. “Get in line.”

Roberto stood suddenly and walked toward the road.

Sam blinked. “Where’s he goin’?”

Illyana shrugged. “Running from himself, probably.”

Roberto’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
He found a dumpster behind the town bar and kicked it until the lid bent. His powers didn’t flare. They didn’t even flicker. Maybe his body didn’t trust him anymore.
Maybe it was right.
He slumped against the wall, breath shallow.
Juliana. Her name is Juliana.
He repeated it like a prayer. Like repetition would make her more real than Illyana’s fire-glinting smirk.
But she wasn’t.
And Illyana had looked at him the moment the Demon Bear came—unflinching.
Unreachable.
And the worst part?
He wasn’t sure which one he wanted.

Illyana sat on the church roof with Lockheed draped over her shoulders, the sky behind her warped with heat shimmer. Limbo flickered. Not open. Not yet. Just there.
Sam climbed up without asking.

“I’m not in the mood,” Illyana muttered.

“Good,” he said. “Then you’ll listen.”

She looked over.

Sam didn’t meet her eyes. “You said Limbo made you a weapon. I think I made myself into a coffin.”

She frowned. “That supposed to be poetic?”

“No. Just true.”

He held up his hand. Fresh bruises.

Illyana’s eyes narrowed. “You’re still hurting yourself.”

Sam didn’t deny it. “Ain’t like I wanna die. Just… sometimes bein’ alive feels worse.”

Illyana was quiet for a beat. Then:
“I used to cut things in Limbo. Rocks. Trees. People. Just to prove I still could.”

He blinked. “That’s… honest.”

She smirked. Weak. “Don’t get used to it.”

Rahne returned just after dark.
Torn coat. Red-rimmed eyes.
She didn’t say where she’d gone.
No one asked.
Dani found her curled in the back pews.

Rahne whispered, “I keep dreaming I’m at the bottom of a lake. The weight’s too much. I just… sink.”

Dani took her hand. Held it like a lifeline.
“It’s not real,” she said.

“I know,” Rahne replied. “But part of me hopes it is. So it’ll be over.”

And Dani—steady, stubborn Dani—just held tighter.

Later that night, Illyana opened a portal.
Not to go.
Just to look.
Inside: the edge of Limbo.
A red sky. Black towers. A sound like laughter—wrong and distant.
It wasn’t the Smiling Men.
But it was close.
Lockheed growled low.
“I know,” she whispered. “I feel it too.”
She shut the portal.

Across the clearing, far in the trees, a red-eyed drone blinked.
Deep underground, somewhere far away, a monitor lit up.
ESSEX PROTOCOL: ACTIVE.
SUBJECTS: LOCATED.
INITIATE: PHASE TWO.

Chapter Text

Dani woke to screaming.

Not someone else’s—hers. A memory-echo of the Demon Bear’s breath on her neck, its mind clawing through hers. For a moment, her pulse went static. Then the church roof snapped into focus, sunrise bleeding through cracks in the boards.

Across the room, Rahne stirred but didn’t look over.

Sam was already gone. Again.

Illyana wasn’t inside. Neither was Roberto.

Dani exhaled slowly and stood.

It’s going to be one of those days.

Sam didn’t run far.

He was crouched near the edge of the old road, knuckles bruised, fingertips bleeding.

He’d been punching something—concrete maybe. Or just the ground.

Illyana approached silently.

Lockheed floated behind her, his tail flicking—tense.

“You know there are less dramatic ways to punish yourself,” she said.

Sam didn’t respond. His hoodie was soaked, streaked with dirt.

“I tried to talk to you last night,” Illyana said, softer now. “You didn’t come back.”

“I didn’t want to scare anybody,” he muttered. “Didn’t wanna burn.”

She sat beside him. “You don’t burn, Guthrie. You implode.”

He laughed, bitter. “Yeah. And take everyone with me.”

Illyana summoned her sword—not raised, not defensive. Just there. Flickering like a heartbeat. “You think you’re the only one who destroys what they love?”

Sam looked at her. “No. But I think I’m the only one still pretendin’ I’m the victim.”

Lockheed snorted like he disagreed.

Roberto found the diner by accident.

What was left of it anyway. It was half-shattered. Mold in the corners. Torn booths. Still had a jukebox.

He liked it. It felt like the kind of place someone normal might’ve sat once, reminded him of a life he used to have.

He stared into the jukebox—didn’t play anything, just watching the track wheel spin.

Dani found him.

“You disappeared,” she said.

“I’m not on a leash,” he muttered.

She slid into the booth opposite. “You’re not okay either.”

He laughed, humorless. “No one is.”

“I saw your illusion,” she said quietly. “That night. Juliana. And Illyana.”

His posture stiffened.

“You never told me about it.”

“Because it doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s changing you.”

His hands glowed faintly—heat pulsing under skin.

“Back off, Dani.”

She stayed put. “You’re terrified of losing control again.”

The glow intensified. Then—

And then the jukebox exploded.

The sound rolled like thunder through the valley.

Illyana and Sam were already running before the smoke even cleared the trees.

They found Roberto shaking, covered in ash, hands still lit with fire. Dani stood nearby, unhurt—but not unwounded.

“I didn’t mean to—” Roberto started, panic rising.

Illyana marched towards him, sword raised, face unreadable. “You never do.”

Roberto flinched like she’d hit him.

“You think I wanted this? You think I don’t hate it?”

“You keep saying that.” she said, closing in. “Like it’s supposed to make us feel safe.”

She swung her sword at Roberto—slow and deliberate. A warning, not an attack.

Roberto sidestepped, meeting her eyes. “And you act like you don’t bleed.”

Illyana slowly circled him, grip on the hilt tightening.

Roberto stared back—defiant, or desperate. Maybe both.

The silence stretched—thin, sharp.

Sam stepped forward. “Okay, let’s all calm down—”

Illyana laughed. Dry. Hollow.

Her sword glowed—light dancing through the smoke.

“You died the day you killed her,” she said. “Been playing dress-up in fire ever since.”

“Illy—”

“One day, you’re gonna burn someone who’s still alive and not even feel it.”

She walked closer to Roberto.

“Because you’re too weak to carry the guilt.”

Another step. 

“And when that happens?”

A smirk tugged at her mouth.

“I’ll be the one to end you.”

That did it.

Roberto lunged—fire flaring white-hot, heat rippling between them.

“You think you scare me?” he spat. “You think you get to judge me like you’ve never lost it?”

The flames clawed toward her—wild, reaching.

Illyana raised her sword, braced. Her eyes started to glow.

But before he reached her, Sam moved—one burst of propulsion, a sonic wall between them. He slammed Roberto back. The flames died.

“Cool off,” Sam snapped. “Ain’t nobody here tryin’ to kill anybody.”

Roberto’s fists clenched. Sparks flickered back to life—twitching, unstable. Uncertain to fade or flare.

For a second, he looked ready to charge again—until his eyes met Dani’s.

Her voice was clear and steady. “Enough.” 

The words hung heavy, like smoke curling through silence.

“We’re already falling apart.” she said.

”We didn’t escape one hell to open another.”

Roberto’s fire sputtered—then died. Guilt settled in its place.

Illyana’s sword vanished with a flash. But her eyes stayed cold.

“Good,” she said. “Now maybe what’s real can finally come out.”

And she walked away.

Rahne sat in the belfry. Alone.

She’d heard the explosion, the shouting. She didn’t go down.

Her hands were clasped around a worn cross necklace she hadn’t worn in years.

She’d kissed Dani. She’d wanted to.

But she also still woke up screaming with the priest’s voice in her ear, condemning her to fire: She’ll drag you down. Hell doesn’t need demons. It needs believers.

She clutched the cross tighter.

A tear slid down her cheek.

She didn’t wipe it away.

That night, Illyana opened Limbo again.

A deep slash in reality, right behind the altar, pulsing red and sickly gold. The sky inside was storming. The towers crumbled and rebuilt themselves over and over, like the world couldn’t decide if it wanted to live or die.

Lockheed growled low in his throat.

She stepped through. Just for a second.

And felt it.

Something was there.

Not the Smiling Men.

Older. Worse.

Something that remembered her name.

Meanwhile, 3 miles away

SUBJECT-NM-202-FLARE-UNSTABLE

>>UNRAVEL-COLLECT

In the back of a containment unit, something stirred.

Not alive.

But dreaming.

Chapter Text

Illyana couldn’t stop staring at the tear in reality.

Limbo pulsed beyond the veil—a grotesque mirror of their world. The landscape had shifted since the last time she opened it. Once-familiar structures twisted into new, sick shapes. Spires made of bone. Rivers of black flame. And somewhere in the stormed sky: the tower.

Her tower.

Her throne.

“I shouldn’t have opened it,” she whispered. Lockheed whined softly beside her.

She turned to leave.

But something followed her out.

Two miles out, hidden in the shell of an old railway depot, a woman watched thermal feeds.

“They’re destabilizing,” she murmured, adjusting the dial. “Subject 202 showed major spikes. 199 opened a portal at 0400. It’s still bleeding.”

The screen in front of her flickered. 

PROCEED_PHASE2: PROVOCATION_SURGICAL_TRAUMA.

She tapped a button.

In the rear of the transport unit, something stirred—not quite alive.

A psychic wraith engineered from Dani’s own nightmares, laced with dimensional residue and Essex code.

Modeled after the Demon Bear.

Let the mutants fight their own ghosts.

That night, Dani found Rahne in the church loft.

Rahne was curled in her wolf form, trembling. When she shifted back, it was slow, unsure. Naked with shame.

“You ever feel like you were born wrong?” Rahne asked, not meeting her eyes.

“All the time,” Dani said. “But I think that’s part of surviving.”

“I can’t stop hearing him,” Rahne whispered. “Father Craig. Telling me I was filth. That my body was sin. That loving you was… an invitation to hell.”

She looked up. Eyes wet. “I’m sorry I love you.”

Dani’s breath caught. “You don’t have to be sorry for that.”

“But I am,” Rahne said, voice cracking. “Because I want you close and I keep pushing you away. Because when I touch you, it feels like I’m defiling something.”

Dani knelt beside her. “You’re not defiling anything. You’re fighting poison. That’s not the same.”

She placed her hand over Rahne’s.

“I can’t make you believe you deserve love. But I’ll sit here while you try.”

Rahne broke.

And Dani held her through it.

Illyana stood at the altar, the Soulsword resting in her lap. Her hand trembled.

She’d felt it earlier. A shift. Not a demon. Not the Smiling Men.

Something older. Something deep.

Then the shadows moved.

And stepped out.

A girl. Her shape. Twelve years old. Dirty. Small. A cracked doll in her arms.

Illyana’s stomach turned.

“You’re not real.”

“I’m the part of you that never left,” the girl said. “The child you buried so deep, you forgot her name.”

Illyana surged forward, blade flashing.

The girl vanished—then reappeared behind her.

“You brought me back when you opened the rift. I am Limbo, just like you.”

Illyana dropped to her knees. The sword flickered. Her breath hitched.

And the girl smiled.

They hadn’t spoken since the diner blew.

Roberto found Sam outside the church, sitting on the hood of a rusted pickup truck like he was waiting for something to fall out of the sky. The night air was thick with the residue of smoke and something heavier—guilt, maybe. Or grief.

Sam didn’t look at him.

“You here to throw fire at me?” he asked.

Roberto winced. “No.”

Sam’s knuckles were still raw—faded scabs under fresh ones.

“You could’ve killed her,” Sam said. His voice too calm. “Dani was five feet away when that jukebox blew.”

Roberto leaned against the opposite side of the truck, folding his arms. “I know.”

“So what was it?” Sam asked, eyes fixed ahead. “What did she say?”

There was a long pause.

“She mentioned Juliana. And Illyana. In the same breath.”

Sam looked over. “Why does that matter?”

Roberto laughed, bitter. “Because it’s true. I saw Illyana right before Juliana in that vision. Same fire. Same ending.”

He looked down at his hands, flexing them like the heat was still hiding under the skin.

“If Juliana was the first person I failed… then Illyana’s just proof I haven’t changed.”

Sam slid down from the hood, stepped closer. “Then change.”

Roberto scoffed. “You make it sound easy.”

“It ain’t,” Sam said. “But breakin’ the pattern starts with not handin’ it the damn pen.”

Roberto’s voice tightened. “I can’t control it, Sam. It just happens.”

Sam didn’t blink. “No. You let it happen.”

Roberto’s head snapped up.

“You keep actin’ like the fire shows up without you. Like you’re just standin’ nearby when it all goes wrong. But it’s you, Berto. You’re the one burnin’.”

Roberto’s hands flared—reflexive, quick.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you want someone to say it’s not your fault so you don’t have to try fixin’ it.”

A pause. Quiet. Heavy.

Roberto’s voice dropped. “We’re all scared of ourselves, Sam. Maybe you treat your guilt like it’s part of you. Me?”

A breath.

“Maybe Illyana’s right. I am too weak to carry it all.”

Sam didn’t answer.

Roberto looked at him again. Quieter now. “Why’d you stop me? At the diner?”

Sam met his eyes.

“You’re the only one I ever told about the mine.”

A beat.

“And I thought that oughta mean somethin’.”

Then he turned and walked back toward the church, leaving Roberto standing there, hands faintly glowing.

Alone in the heat.

At 3:13 a.m., the psychic bomb dropped.

The temperature fell first. Like ice in the spine.

Dani bolted upright. Lockheed hissed and flew to Illyana’s shoulder.

Everyone felt it.

A pressure spike.

A memory claw.

An echo of something that shouldn’t exist.

And then—the growl.

The church shook.

Dani stumbled outside—and froze.

The Demon Bear was back.

But wrong.

Smaller. Stuttering at the edges like a broken dream. Like something copied from a child’s memory.

Dani’s voice caught. “It’s mine. It’s my fear. But it’s not real.”

Illyana stepped up, sword out. “Doesn’t matter. It still kills.”

The bear lunged.

Sam launched himself into it mid-charge, blasting it back with a sonic boom. Roberto followed, fire searing the beast’s form—

But it absorbed the flames.

“It’s psychic!” Dani yelled. “You can’t burn thought!”

Rahne leapt—but the creature projected Father Craig’s voice. She froze mid-air.

The bear struck.

She crashed into the field, hard.

Dani snapped.

She cracked open her own mind like a blade—cutting through memory, slicing into the creature’s core.

She found it.

DNA-spliced. Fear-enhanced. Essex-made.

She screamed.

Illyana stabbed it with the Soulsword.

The creature convulsed—code unraveling—then burst into ash.

Silence.

Everyone stood, breathing hard.

Rahne was bleeding.

Sam’s arm hung wrong.

Illyana looked pale as bone.

The rift to Limbo pulsed. Brighter now.

They buried what was left of the false bear in the woods.

No one spoke.

Later, Illyana sat on the steps, arms around her knees.

“I brought something back,” she whispered.

Dani sat beside her. “So did I.”

Roberto stood in the church doorway, watching Sam splint his own arm.

Rahne limped past, eyes on the ground.

No one slept that night.

No one could.

Chapter Text

The rift hissed.

Not like wind.

Like steam beneath skin.

Illyana sat cross-legged in front of it, Soulsword resting across her lap.

Lockheed was curled around her shoulders like a heatless scarf.

The others had stopped asking if she was okay.

Probably because they already knew the answer.

She wasn’t.

She hadn’t slept in two days. Maybe three.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the same thing: herself—twelve years old, barefoot, blood-streaked—dragging that eyeless doll toward her.

The child didn’t talk anymore.

She just smiled.

Illyana grinned back.

“Try me, you little bitch.”

Lockheed growled.

She scratched his snout with her free hand.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m talking to myself. You knew what you signed up for.”

Dani woke up choking.

Not physical. Pressure.

Her skull was full—too full. Voices she couldn’t separate. Thoughts that weren’t hers.

It was getting worse.

She used to summon fear. Illusions.

Now she could feel people before they said a word.

Yesterday, Sam walked past her and she knew he was about to lie about his arm.

When she touched Rahne’s shoulder, she felt the flinch—not the muscle, but the thought behind it. Don’t deserve her.

Illyana had muttered Stay out of my head from across the room.

Dani hadn’t even spoken.

But she was starting to think maybe she didn’t have to anymore.

Roberto was the first to see the stranger.

He’d gone past the tree line, trying to run off the tension building under his skin.

That’s when he saw her.

A woman standing just beyond the woods. Civilian clothes. Leather jacket. A scar cutting down one cheek. Short dark hair.

She didn’t look like a threat.

Until she spoke.

“Hi, Berto.”

His breath caught.

“Juliana?”

The woman tilted her head.

“No. But I remember her. I remember you. That night. The fire.”

She stepped closer.

“Mr. Essex wanted you to see what mercy looks like.”

They brought her inside.

Roberto stayed silent.

Dani kept her hand near a blade.

Illyana didn’t move. She sat near the rift, sword across her lap, eyes narrowed.

“I’m not here to fight,” the woman said. “My name is Reya. I used to work in Transigen’s research division.”

“No medal for honesty,” Illyana said flatly.

“I’m here because I defected. And because Essex doesn’t need to find you.”

She pointed to Illyana.

“He’s already watching. Limbo’s not just a tear—it’s a window. And it’s open.”

That got Illyana on her feet.

“Close it,” Reya said. “Before it stops being yours.”

That night, Illyana stood in the chapel again.

The girl—her younger self—was closer now. Taller.

Not smiling anymore.

She held the Soulsword.

Illyana reached for her’s on instinct.

But her hand was empty.

The girl pointed the blade at her.

“You’re not the queen anymore.”

Illyana grinned. “I never was.”

The girl lunged.

Illyana blinked.

Gone.

The real Soulsword clattered to the floor, humming like it had been used.

Illyana touched her side.

She was bleeding.

She didn’t know when it started.

She patched the wound in silence.

Dani sat nearby at the firepit, not speaking either.

Across the church, Reya slept with one eye open.

Sam adjusted his sling.

Roberto paced.

Rahne knelt near the altar, whispering prayers Dani couldn’t hear.

No one talked about what was coming.

But they all felt it.

Like breath on glass.

Like teeth waiting to close.

Chapter Text

They didn’t talk much the next morning.

Reya sat at the edge of the chapel pews, sipping instant coffee like she wasn’t the living extension of a man who had turned their traumas into experiments.

No one told her to leave.

Maybe because they wanted answers.

Maybe because they didn’t want to show weakness by needing them.

Dani avoided everyone’s eyes. Her head throbbed. Her thoughts weren’t hers anymore.

Illyana woke up in the graveyard behind the church.

Fully dressed. Soul armor half-manifested. Blood on her knuckles. Dried, not fresh.

She didn’t remember getting there.

Lockheed circled overhead like he’d been looking for her all night.

There were claw marks in the dirt beside her. And one word carved into the back wall of the church:

WRAITH

She smirked. “Cute.”

But she didn’t tell anyone.

Not yet.

Reya asked Dani to meet in the burnt-out office near the bell tower.

Rain tapped gently on the broken window.

“I’m not Essex,” Reya said. “But I won’t lie—I came with an offer.”

Dani didn’t move.

“He doesn’t want all of you,” Reya said. “Just you.”

Dani’s voice stayed low. “Why?”

“You’re evolving. Faster than expected. You’re not just projecting fear anymore—you’re manifesting it.”

Dani’s hands tensed. “So I’m a threat.”

“You’re useful,” Reya replied. “If you choose to be.”

Dani stared at her. “I’d rather die.”

Reya smiled, something unreadable behind it. “You might.”

Dani turned to leave—then stopped.

She reached out, brushing her fingers against Reya’s wrist.

Just for a second.

The vision hit like a flood.

A glimpse. Flickering.

Five pods. Different faces. Her face. Illyana’s. Others she didn’t recognize.

The room reshaped itself, version after version. Equipment changing. Lighting colors shifting. Like time wasn’t linear here. Like none of it was.

Then—

A screen.

Blurred.

Just clear enough to read:

PROJECT: WRK-1A

PRIME CANDIDATE – EARTH-9A1

Then Sam screaming.

Roberto on fire.

Reya, younger, holding a clipboard she wouldn’t look at.

And Essex’s voice, low through static:

“This version… holds.”

Dani staggered back, breath ragged.

Reya didn’t react. Like she’d expected it.

“You looked,” she said quietly.

Dani walked away without answering.

Illyana came back inside soaked through, dirt on her boots, hair stuck to her face.

Sam was the one who noticed the blood on her hands.

“You get in a fight?” he asked, neutral.

“Sure,” she said. “Let’s say that.”

“You wanna tell me who?”

“I don’t know.”

She didn’t say it like a lie.

She said it like a fact that scared her.

Sam stepped closer. “Illy.”

She held up a hand. “Don’t.”

“I’m not judging.”

“You’re pitying.”

“I’m worried.”

She stared at him. “Then stop.”

And walked past.

But she was trembling.

Reya approached him in the hallway.

“You know,” she said gently, “you weren’t the only one to lose someone in a fire.”

Roberto froze. His shoulders tensed. 

“She died fast. We kept the footage.”

He punched the wall. Hard. Enough to break the plaster.

Then again.

Again.

His hands flared, uncontrolled.

“She was screaming,” Reya said softly. “But she reached for you. Not away.”

Roberto turned—burning, breathing like a wild thing.

“Get. Out.”

Reya stepped back, satisfied.

Dani stood outside the church that night.

Rain soaking her shirt. Her skin felt too thin. Her brain felt crowded.

Rahne came to her, slowly.

“You’ve been… distant.”

“I’m not safe to be near.”

Rahne took her hand anyway. “Let me decide that.”

Dani opened her mouth—to warn her.

Instead, Rahne jerked back like she’d been hit.

Eyes wide.

She saw something.

Felt something.

Then collapsed—convulsing in the mud.

Dani screamed.

Everyone came running.

Rahne lay in the grass, unconscious. Heart racing. Skin clammy.

Illyana yanked Dani back, sword already out.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t—” Dani’s voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to.”

Illyana didn’t lower the blade.

Sam stepped in between them.

“Stop,” he said, calm but firm. “No one’s trying to kill anyone.”

Roberto knelt beside Rahne, checking her pulse. “She’s breathing.”

Dani stood, shaking.

“She saw something. In me. Something I didn’t mean to show her.”

Reya stood in the doorway.

Silent.

Smiling.

That night, Illyana’s younger self appeared again.

Older now.

Wearing her armor. Her face.

Her smile.

“I told you I was what comes after,” she said.

Illyana lifted her sword.

The girl did too.

They swung at the same time.

Chapter Text

She opened her eyes and saw nothing.

Just blankness.

Then she saw Dani’s face. Blurred. Warped. Crying.

Rahne sat up too fast, choked on air.

“Easy,” Dani said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Rahne flinched.

Dani’s face shattered in her vision—split into a dozen jagged pieces before snapping back into place.

“I saw you,” Rahne whispered. “In the… vision.”

“What did you see?” Dani asked.

Rahne was silent

Illyana woke with dirt under her nails.

Blood on her neck—not hers.

And a ring of salt drawn around her where she slept.

Lockheed hissed beside her.

She looked around. No one else was awake.

She stood slowly.

In the corner of the church, her Soulsword was buried in the floor.

And burning.

That was new.

Reya caught Sam at sunrise.

He was in the barn, trying to splint his arm properly this time.

The bruising had gotten worse. Veined. Spreading.

“You should let Illyana cauterize it,” she said casually.

“I’m fine,” Sam muttered.

“You’re breaking your body trying to hold them together.”

He paused.

“I watched your file,” she continued. “Your whole life. Always the one who steps in. Always the one who takes the hit.”

She stepped closer. “And what do you get back?”

He stared at her.

“I’m not asking for anything,” she said. “Just wondering how long you’ll carry them… before they let you fall.”

Then she left.

Dani hadn’t spoken to Rahne since.

She hadn’t touched anyone.

She sat in the chapel’s highest window, legs dangling into open air.

Her eyes faintly glowed under the rising sun.

She could feel them again.

Not just presence—pressure.

She felt Illyana dreaming in screams.

Felt Sam’s guilt—sour and thick on her tongue.

Heard Roberto whisper Juliana’s name in his sleep.

She whispered, “Stop.”

The voices didn’t.

Illyana was mid-sentence when she doubled over.

Coughed blood onto the floor.

Everyone froze.

Her sword lit itself.

Roberto moved without thinking.

He reached her fast—then stopped short. Hands twitching, heat rising beneath the skin.

“You okay?” he asked. It came out rougher than he meant.

Illyana didn’t answer.

He hovered there, fists clenched at his sides, not sure if stepping closer would help or get him sliced in half.

The fire didn’t come.

Not this time.

He exhaled. “Huh.”

Illyana blinked, like she was waking up.

Then—she laughed.

Not her laugh.

Too smooth.

Foreign and chilling. 

Then it stopped.

She looked up, pale, eyes razor-sharp.

“I… what happened?”

No one dared to move.

The glow from her sword faded to a low pulse.

Roberto looked at her like he was trying to decide if she was still the same person.

Maybe she was doing the same to him.

Illyana wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She didn’t thank him.

He didn’t expect her to.

Reya stood in the doorway.

And whispered:

“She’s almost done.”

Later that night, when he thought the others were asleep, Roberto walked into the clearing behind the church.

He stood in the open.

Closed his eyes.

And let it out.

The fire didn’t build.

It burst.

He didn’t fight it. Didn’t flinch. Let it rise through his chest and out of his hands until the whole clearing glowed orange.

His breath shook—but he stayed standing.

And then he aimed it.

A full blast—upward—controlled, fierce, clean.

Not guilt or fear.

Fire.

Illyana watched from the trees.

She didn’t say anything.

Just nodded once.

And walked away before the fire cooled.

Chapter Text

Illyana didn’t sleep that night.

She was at Limbo.

It wasn’t the one she remembered.

The colors were wrong.

The shadows moved like they had minds of their own.

The tower was there—but upside down, suspended in the sky like it had been hung.

And on the throne sat her.

Older than before.

A darker Illyana.

Thicker armor. A crown of bone.

Black veins threading through her arms like ink.

“Welcome home,” the double said.

Illyana raised her sword.

“This isn’t my home.”

The double stood. Drew her own.

“You left pieces here. I just picked them up.”

The double struck first.

Fast. Brutal.

Illyana blocked, barely.

Steel rang. Sparks flew.

It wasn’t just swordplay.

The double whispered while they fought.

“Belasco loved me more.”

“I was stronger when you were still scared.”

“You left. I stayed. I earned this.”

Illyana parried a killing blow—and laughed.

“I see what this is,” she said. “You’re not me.”

The double paused.

“You’re what I would’ve become if I hadn’t clawed my way out. If I’d let the throne own me.”

She slashed—

The crown split down in the middle.

The double smiled.

And dissolved into ash.

Illyana didn’t walk away unscathed.

Black veins now threaded down her sword arm.

And they were moving.

The church was hollow.

The kind of hollow that seeped into things.

Like the wind had teeth.

Illyana sat near the pulpit.

Her sword rested beside her. Breathing low.

Lockheed curled at her feet. Watching.

Her boots were still wet.

She didn’t remember walking through water.

Dani came in. Quiet.

“You okay?”

No answer.

Illyana’s voice came slow:

“I think she’s gone.”

Dani didn’t ask who.

Just sat and waited.

“She tried to escape,” Illyana said. “Didn’t make it all the way.”

“She left something behind,” Dani echoed.

Illyana didn’t look at her.

She already knew.

In the hallway, Reya stood still. Watching Rahne.

Rahne was staring at the cracked mirror.

Still.

“Do you see something?” Reya asked.

“No,” Rahne said.

But didn’t sound sure.

Sam rewrapped his arm.

The bruising had settled deeper.

A second heartbeat pulsed behind the bone.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t want it to be real.

Roberto sat on the roof.

Didn’t look down.

The stars were wrong.

Too many missing.

Or moved.

He stopped trying to name them.

Rahne finally left the hallway.

She walked past Reya. Out the door.

Didn’t say anything.

Didn’t look back.

Reya didn’t follow.

Back inside, Dani stood near the altar.

Her hands were shaking.

Illyana was dreaming again.

Sam’s guilt was choking.

Rahne’s fear echoed like it had a pulse.

“Stop,” she whispered.

Time rippled.

One moment she was still.

The next—everyone’s fear was crawling across the church walls.

Smiling Men

Sam’s mine.

Roberto’s burning girlfriend.

Rahne’s priest.

Rahne screamed.

Illyana woke up.

Sam and Roberto came running.

And Dani cracked.

Her eyes flared hot-white.

Her voice doubled, sharp:

“I CAN’T HOLD IT.”

Something tore out of her chest.

A being.

Tall. Pale. Featureless.

Not human.

Not demon.

Not from here.

It stepped through her.

Into this world.

And looked at them.

The air changed.

Thick. Distorted. Like pressure pushing inward from every angle.

Everyone froze.

Rahne dropped to her knees.

The priest’s voice still echoed.

She growled.

Her body shifted—but not her usual soft wolf shape.

This was… wrong.

Taller. Angular. Her fur blackened. Fangs longer. Eyes deeper.

Illyana reached to her—

Rahne bit her hand.

“Bad doggy.” she muttered.

The creature moved again. Slow.

Every step twisted the air around it.

Like it was pulling the room sideways.

Sam moved first.

One arm in a brace, the other glowing.

He stepped in front of Rahne and Illyana.

Roberto joined him. Lit and ready.

“Burn it?” Sam muttered.

Roberto didn’t answer at first. Just watched. Then—

“We warn it.”

They stepped forward together.

“This isn’t your world,” Roberto said “Walk back through the hole you came from.”

The being tilted its head.

And then—

It did.

No sound.

No fight.

Just gone.

For now.

Dani lay unconscious.

Illyana’s powers were cracked.

Rahne wouldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Reya was gone.

Vanished during the chaos.

And no one had noticed.

Chapter Text

Illyana just woke, staring at the cracked ceiling of the church, her sword gone, Lockheed gone, body aching like she’d been dragged back across realities by the throat.

She sat up—and her arm screamed.

The veins had spread past her shoulder. They pulsed faintly, not black anymore but dark red, like dried blood.

She covered it with a coat she found.

Sam entered a moment later, saw her awake, and gave her a small nod. Relief in his face—but he didn’t rush. He knew better.

“How bad is it?” he asked quietly.

She didn’t answer. Just looked out the window.

“Bad enough,” he said for her.

Dani hadn’t come downstairs since the creature disappeared.

She hadn’t spoken, either.

Rahne stood outside her door, hand raised to knock for what felt like forever. Then lowered it.

She didn’t know what to say.

She just knew the thing that came through Dani wasn’t gone.

She’d seen its shape, heard its whisper through Dani’s mouth. Something extradimensional—not Limbo, not fear. Something else.

And Dani had let it in.

Maybe not on purpose.

But still.

Roberto was the first up. First dressed. First one to check the perimeter, start the fire, boil water.

Not because he wanted to.

Because someone had to.

He found Sam outside, sitting on the church steps, holding a cracked mug full of weak coffee in his good hand.

“Illyana up?” Roberto asked.

“Yeah. But not better.”

“Dani?”

“Still shut in.”

“You?”

Sam gave him a look. “Don’ ask.”

Roberto nodded. “Okay.”

He sat beside him.

For once, they didn’t fill the silence with banter.

Rahne caught her reflection in the church basin.

Her eyes were wrong.

Still hers—but ringed in shadow, like the wolf was looking out even when she wasn’t shifted.

Her fingernails didn’t blunt when she willed them to.

She washed her hands three times. The water turned gray.

She didn’t tell anyone.

She just pulled her sleeves down.

Lockheed returned around noon, dragging her sword behind him like a wounded soldier returning with the flag.

Illyana touched the hilt—and the blade flared.

Too hot.

Too much.

She yanked her hand back, hissing.

Roberto watched from the shadows.

“You’re not healing,” he said.

“Nope.”

“Shouldn’t you be?”

“Probably.”

“You gonna tell the others?”

Illyana turned her head. “Are you gonna stop me if I don’t?”

Roberto didn’t smile. “Not my job to stop you.”

“Then what’s your job?”

“To be here when you fall.”

She didn’t argue.

That night, Dani came down.

She didn’t speak.

She stood in the doorway of the church, eyes dull, hair unbrushed, shirt rumpled.

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

Even Illyana.

Dani looked at each of them—Sam, Roberto, Illyana, Rahne.

When her eyes landed on Rahne, Rahne flinched.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said. Her voice was like a radio too far off the station. “For what I brought through.”

No one spoke.

“I don’t know what’s still inside me,” she added. “But if I change, if something takes me, I want one of you to—”

“Don’t finish that,” Rahne snapped.

And walked out.

That night they sat together for the first time in days.

A weak fire. No plans. No smiles.

Illyana’s hand trembled when she thought no one was looking.

Sam looked anyway.

Dani stared into the fire like it owed her answers.

Roberto passed out mugs. Said nothing.

Rahne stood at the doorway, arms crossed, eyes darker than they used to be.

No one said it out loud.

But they were all wondering the same thing:

Are we a team? Or are we just survivors pretending?

Chapter Text

Rahne didn’t sleep that night.

She hadn’t slept well since Dani showed her what she shouldn’t have seen. Not on purpose. But it didn’t matter.

Now there was a voice.

It didn’t sound like the priest. Or like God.

It sounded like her.

Low. Calm. Gentle.

“It’s okay,” the voice said. “I know you. I’m what happens when you stop begging to be loved.”

At first she thought it was another illusion. A side effect of Dani’s touch.

But then she saw tracks in the forest. Wolf tracks. Bigger than hers.

And she followed them.

Illyana didn’t feel pain anymore. That worried her.

Pain was a friend. It let her know she was still real. Still herself.

Now, the veins had reached her collarbone. When she touched her own reflection, the mirror hissed like it had been burned.

She kept Lockheed close. He curled tighter around her neck than usual.

Sam brought her water and left without a word.

She appreciated that.

Talking meant admitting something was wrong.

Limbo. Age 12.

The first time she opened a portal, it wasn’t on purpose.

She was trying to escape.

The Smiling Man was trying to take her again.

Hold her too long.

She didn’t even remember screaming.

But something inside her snapped—

And the world split open.

She fell through.

Into Limbo.

At first, she thought it was hell.

It was in some ways.

The air burned. The ground bled. The sky never stopped moving.

At least she was free.

Belasco found her in the ash.

He threw her into the pit. Made her bleed. Made her watch the demons circle below.

He said: “If you want to stop them, call something that bites harder.”

So she did.

The Soulsword didn’t appear like a gift. It tore out of her hand, ripping skin, smoking black and silver.

She screamed—and then laughed.

She cut down six demons in seconds.

Then turned the blade on Belasco.

He had smiled like a proud parent.

Illyana stared at her palm.

The sword hadn’t come when she called it that morning.

Not even a flicker.

Dani tried meditating.

Didn’t work.

Tried music.

Didn’t work.

Tried praying.

The voice that answered was hers.

She sat in the empty chapel and whispered, “Show me what I fear.”

And she saw it:

Herself, seated on Essex’s throne, veins pulsing gold, mouth stitched shut, Rahne dead at her feet.

She screamed—and the stained glass behind her shattered.

Roberto gathered them around the fire that night. Rahne wasn’t back yet.

“Someone has to lead,” he said.

Illyana didn’t answer.

Sam stared into the flames.

Dani said nothing.

“So it’s me,” Roberto added. “Fine. Then we need a plan. Illyana’s condition is worsening. Dani’s unstable. And something followed Rahne.”

“I’m fine,” Dani whispered.

“You’re cracking.” Roberto’s voice stayed calm. “We all are. But if we don’t start pulling together, this place is going to kill us. Or we’ll do it ourselves.”

It was almost midnight when Rahne returned.

Her clothes were soaked in mud. Her eyes were glowing.

And she wasn’t alone.

Behind her walked a shadow on four legs—lanky, with fur like smoke, and eyes like mirrors.

It didn’t growl.

It bowed.

Rahne whispered, “It’s mine.”

Illyana stood.

“Or it’s Essex’s.”

Sam stepped between them.

“Illy calm down.”

But Illyana’s hand was already clenched, and her veins had started to glow.

She slashed the creature in half.

But the shadow didn’t disappear.

Later, Sam found Illyana sitting in the graveyard, holding her shoulder with her good hand.

“You can’t keep this up,” he said.

She didn’t look at him. “If I turn, you’ll have to kill me.”

“Not funny.”

“Not joking.”

Sam didn’t move.

“You’re falling apart,” she said. “And you’re the only reason we haven’t imploded.”

He exhaled, quietly.

“I don’t care about the others,” she said, voice low. “Not like you do.”

He looked at her. “Why tell me this?”

She finally glanced his way.

“Because I trust you to aim for my head.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t just voices anymore.

Rahne could feel Dani’s guilt from three rooms away.

She could taste Sam’s fear—like rust on her tongue.

She could smell Illyana’s rot. Beneath the armor. Beneath the steel.

She pressed her hands to her temples and howled.

It was barely human.

The church windows didn’t crack—but the pews shifted like something inside them flinched.

Illyana was brushing her hair when she forgot what the brush was called.

Then she forgot how many rooms were in the church.

Then she forgot what the word “mirror” meant.

She looked at Lockheed and whispered, “I’m not slipping. I’m being peeled.”

Sam was alone in the supply shed. The one with the warped roof and the rusted sink.

He dropped the jar of antiseptic.

And just stared at the shards.

Then he sat down.

And didn’t get back up.

He held his arm to his chest and let himself cry.

Not loud. Not sharp.

Just a sound like glass cooling too fast.

Rahne found him there.

Didn’t say anything.

Just sat beside him. Close enough to feel the heat.

Roberto found Dani in the garden.

She was sitting next to a bush of withered flowers.

Eyes vacant. Still.

Like she was stuck there. 

“Something wrong?” Dani asked, without looking at him.

“No—well, yeah.”

Roberto sat in front of her, cross-legged in the dirt.

“You know why this is happening, right?”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“I know you saw it. In your visions. Why Illyana’s losing it. Why Sam’s breaking. Why Rahne’s—different. Why that thing crawled out of your throat.”

She didn’t argue. “I did.”

“What is it?”

“Essex.”

“What about Essex.”

She looked away. “I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because I think it’s my fault.”

Roberto stood. Brushed the dirt from his hands.

“We better find Essex before he does something.”

He started to walk away.

Dani followed.

Roberto finds the signal.

Three pings.

Equidistant. Patterned. Disguised under utility frequencies.

Buried in Essex’s files.

He triangulated it. Dani helped. Her powers stabilizing—for now.

A warehouse. Sublevel. Locked since before any of them were born.

Illyana called it immediately.

“A trap.”

Sam nodded. “That doesn’t mean we don’t walk in.”

They reached it before sundown.

Middle of nowhere. Barbed fence curled down like dead ivy. Concrete bunker sunk into the earth.

The door was blood-red steel.

And already open.

Just wide enough.

Not kicked in.

Left that way.

Illyana reached out.

The glyphs on her arm flared blue and then stopped.

Dead.

Like the thing on the other side turned them off.

She whispered, “He knows we’re here.”

Dani looked past her, into the dark.

“Yes,” she said. “He brought us here.”

Dustless. Sterile. Quiet.

Hallways branched like arteries. The walls hummed—not with energy, but intention.

Roberto led.

Dani followed.

Illyana walked in last.

The walls whispered to them in a language they almost recognized.

Chapter Text

Rahne didn’t remember falling asleep.

The shadow was curled around her legs.

It breathed like a living thing—slow, steady, warm.

She reached out.

Its head rose.

It pressed its snout into her palm.

And something shifted in her.

Her nails didn’t retract.

Her pupils stayed slitted even in daylight.

She felt… calmer.

More complete.

And that scared her more than anything.

She didn’t ask.

She didn’t warn.

Illyana woke early. Dressed. Arm wrapped in a tight cloth to hide the now pulsing red-black veins. Lockheed hissed low when he saw them.

She summoned her sword with a flick of her wrist.

It came out twisted.

Uneven.

Sick.

She didn’t hesitate.

Just walked out the door.

Toward Rahne.

Dani didn’t mean to see it.

She was meditating—trying—when the vision cracked through her skull like lightning:

She stood alone, surrounded by ash.

The church was gone.

The others—ashes.

Only Essex stood before her, clapping slowly.

“You made it,” he said. “Took you long enough.”

She screamed—and the future snapped shut.

But the smell of ash didn’t fade.

Illyana found her in the field.

A shadow stood beside Rahne.

Rahne rose slowly.

“I don’t want to fight you,” she said.

Illyana said nothing. Just leveled her sword.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Rahne added.

“That’s the problem,” Illyana whispered. “You won’t. But it will.”

She charged.

The sword came down—fast, heavy.

The wolf lunged.

Rahne shifted mid-motion and met Illyana’s swing with her claws.

Steel screamed.

Illyana pushed harder.

Until a blast of fire split them apart.

Roberto stood between them, flames in his hands, eyes furious.

“Back off.”

Illyana looked at him like he’d betrayed her.

“You’re going to side with that?”

“I’m going to stop you before you make a mistake you can’t undo.”

Illyana raised her blade again.

Roberto didn’t move.

“Try me,” he said. “I’ll burn that thing right out of your arm if I have to.”

The tension sat thick in the air.

Then she dropped the sword.

Turned and walked away.

Sam hadn’t moved from the church steps.

He saw it all.

The blast. The threat.

Illyana leaving. Roberto holding the field. Rahne trembling.

Dani sitting inside, wrapped in silence.

He breathed in through his nose.

Held it.

Let it out.

And stood.

Because if no one else could pull them back together—

He’d do it. Even if it killed him.

Chapter Text

They gathered in silence.

Sam at the edge of the room. Roberto standing. Rahne seated, arms crossed. Illyana… leaning in the corner, hood up.

Dani projected the file onto the church wall.

The list scrolled.

SUBJECTS :

MOONSTAR, DANIELLE – PHASE THREE KEY

RASPUTINA, ILLYANA – INTERDIMENSIONAL GATE

GUTHRIE, SAM – CONTAINED COLLISION

DA COSTA, ROBERTO – HEAT CORE STABILITY

SINCLAIR, RAHNE – ECHO LINK COMPATIBLE

Underneath each: PHASE POTENTIAL – AUGMENTATION READY

“Translation,” Roberto said. “We were never in a hospital.”

Illyana’s voice was low. “We were in a test chamber.”

Dani swallowed. “And we passed.”

Illyana hadn’t spoken much since she got back.

Not really.

But now she did. Softly. Slowly.

“I think… I left something behind in me. Or maybe something came back.”

She pulled her sleeve back.

The veins were gone.

But her skin had changed.

Faint glyphs now glowed beneath it. Like scars written in a language that shouldn’t exist.

Dani took a step closer. “What is it?”

Illyana just smiled.

It started the night before.

She was alone, curled under the stained-glass window, trying to sleep, when she heard it.

Sam: “I should’ve pulled her back.”

Roberto: “If I burn too hot, I’ll lose myself.”

Dani: “She doesn’t trust me anymore.”

Rahne sat up fast.

The voices weren’t real.

Except they were.

Not out loud. Inside.

She was hearing them.

All of them.

And they didn’t know.

 Rahne, Age 12

The priest made her kneel on stone.

Said prayer was pain, and pain was truth.

She believed him.

Every strike from the cane was another sin she thought she deserved.

But the worst part wasn’t the blood.

It was when he told her God couldn’t hear her anymore.

That silence was her punishment.

That was the first night she changed.

“We can’t just sit here waiting for Essex to make the next move,” Roberto said.

No one interrupted him.

Rahne looked up from her seat. Sam stepped in quietly, shoulder still tense.

“We use what we know. Dani’s powers are evolving. Illyana’s… something else now. And Rahne’s changed.”

Rahne flinched.

“We hit first,” Roberto said. “Track the signal that built that rift. Find where it’s broadcasting from. Take it out.”

Illyana tilted her head. “You think we’re soldiers now?”

“No,” Roberto said. “But I think we’re done being weapons someone else controls.”

Dani nodded once.

“Then we move.”

That night, far out in the woods, past the burned fields and the cracked stones—

Something blinked into view.

A pale face behind mirrored lenses. A drone buzzing silently overhead.

The agent didn’t speak.

He simply watched.

And smiled.

Smiling Man. Modified. Reconstructed. Waiting.

Chapter Text

They were planning.

Dani mapping psychic fields. Roberto outlining signal triangulation. Sam adjusting the scope on one of Reya’s salvaged scanners.

Rahne sat apart. Eyes shut. Knees to her chest.

She could hear them all.

Not words. Weight.

Sam: steel guilt and fear of failure.

Dani: shame, a guilt-slicked core.

Illyana: a void. Not empty. Hungry.

Roberto: burning and flickering and covering it with focus.

It beat inside her chest like a second heart.

Too much.

She growled—and the windows shook.

The glyphs on Illyana’s skin pulsed blue-white whenever her temper flared.

At first it was random.

Then it started syncing with her thoughts.

When Roberto asked her if she felt different, she said, “No more than usual.”

He didn’t press.

He saw the truth when she cut through a door without drawing her sword.

Her arm acted on its own.

Dani sat again.

Just focus.

She whispered, “Show me what I need to see.”

At first—there was nothing.

Then—

Fire. Bone. The group dead. Her hands glowing gold.

Then—

Her empty hospital bed. Empty.

Someone standing next to it. Essex.

Reya — Reyes? Standing next to him. 

And then —

Her eyes—Illyana’s.

But her face was wrong.

Illyana’s face melting into hers—

One shape, two selves.

Two shapes, one self.

She screamed.

The candles blew out.

Illyana was there already, drawn by the sound.

“What did you see?”

Dani looked up.

“A warning.”

They didn’t hear him approach.

They felt him.

Like mold in the air. Like pressure behind the eyes.

Rahne growled first. Deep, primal.

Illyana summoned her sword.

Then he stepped through the trees.

The Smiling Man.

Taller. Rebuilt. Cybernetic at the joints. Still grinning. No pupils.

Illyana froze.

Before anyone could move, the creature lunged.

Illyana barely blocked.

It fought like a ghost.

It fought like a soldier.

Augmented speed. Armor-plated limbs. And memory.

It dodged her Soulsword like it remembered how it had died last time.

Sam blasted it backward. It landed and sprang again.

Dani threw a fear projection—

It absorbed it.

Rahne tackled it, teeth flashing, claws digging into synth-skin. It howled—

Then threw her into the church wall.

She didn’t get up.

The glyphs lit gold now.

Her sword exploded outward like a nova.

She screamed—

And the ground beneath them opened.

Not a portal.

A pulse of Limbo, flashing through her, reshaping the air.

The Smiling Man paused.

And then smiled wider.

Illyana charged.

She fought like a creature trying not to break again.

Smiling Man ran.

Back into the woods. Leaving a trail of blood and sparks.

Illyana stood in the ruin, chest heaving.

Her veins glowed.

Her eyes were wrong.

Sam stepped toward her.

“You with us?”

Illyana blinked.

“For now.”

Chapter Text

Rahne could feel Dani’s guilt from three rooms away.

She could taste Sam’s fear—like rust on her tongue.

She could smell Illyana’s rot. Beneath the armor. Beneath the steel.

She pressed her hands to her temples and howled.

It was barely human.

The church windows didn’t crack—but the pews shifted like something inside them flinched.

Illyana was brushing her hair when she forgot what the brush was called.

Then she forgot how many rooms were in the church.

Then she forgot what the word “mirror” meant.

She looked at Lockheed and whispered, “I’m not slipping. I’m being peeled.”

Sam was alone in the supply shed. The one with the warped roof and the rusted sink.

He dropped the jar of antiseptic and stared at the shards.

Then he sat down and didn’t get back up.

He held his arm to his chest and let himself cry.

Rahne found him there.

She sat beside him. Close enough to feel the heat.

Roberto found Dani in the garden.

Sitting next to a bush of withered flowers.

Eyes vacant. Still. Like she was stuck there. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, without looking at him.

“No—well, yeah.”

Roberto sat in front of her, cross-legged in the dirt.

“You know why this is happening, right?”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“I know you saw it. In your visions. Why Illyana’s losing it. Why Sam’s breaking. Why Rahne’s—different. Why that thing crawled out of your throat.”

She didn’t argue. “I did.”

“What is it?”

“Essex.”

“What about Essex.”

She looked away. “I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because I think it’s my fault.”

Roberto stood. Brushed the dirt from his hands.

“Then we better find Essex before he does something.”

He started to walk away.

Dani followed.

Roberto finds the signal.

Three pings.

Equidistant. Patterned. Disguised under utility frequencies.

Buried in Essex’s files.

He triangulated it. Dani helped. Her powers stabilizing—for now.

A warehouse. Sublevel. Locked since before any of them were born.

Illyana called it immediately.

“A trap.”

Sam nodded. “That doesn’t mean we don’t walk in.”

They reached it before sundown.

Middle of nowhere. Barbed fence curled down like dead ivy. Concrete bunker sunk into the earth.

The door was blood-red steel.

And already open.

Wide enough.

Not kicked in. Left that way.

Illyana reached out.

The glyphs on her arm flared blue and then stopped.

Dead.

Like the thing on the other side turned them off.

She whispered, “He knows we’re here.”

Dani looked past her, into the dark.

“Yes,” she said. “He brought us here.”

Dustless. Sterile. Quiet.

Hallways branched like arteries. The walls hummed—not with energy, but intention.

Roberto led.

Dani followed.

Illyana walked in last.

The walls whispered to them in a language they almost recognized.

Chapter Text

The corridor was too quiet.

No guards. No resistance. Just sterile concrete and a sense of having walked into something already waiting for them.

Sam ran a hand along the wall. “This place was abandoned.”

Illyana stopped. Her sword was humming. “It was. But not willingly.”

They reached the final door.

It opened on its own.

The room beyond felt preserved, not powered down. Five cylindrical pods lined the center, tall and dark like standing coffins. Each one bore a glowing digital panel.

SUBJECT: XM-001 – Danielle Moonstar

Source: Earth-313

Project: GATEWALKER

Status: Terminated

Logs: [Open]

Dani blinked. “That’s my name.”

Sam stepped closer to his own pod.

SUBJECT: XM-043 – Samuel Guthrie

Source: Earth-R14

Project: CONTAINED COLLISION

Illyana’s pod.

XM-027 – Illyana Rasputina

Source: Earth-9A1

Project: WRAITH CORE

Status: Displaced

They all turned to Roberto.

His screen read:

XM-015 – Roberto da Costa

Source: Earth-88X

Project: CORE FLARE

And Rahne:

XM-006 – Rahne Sinclair

Source: Earth-W73

Project: ECHO-LINK

“What the hell is this?” Roberto asked.

Sam stared at the identifiers. “They’re not us.”

“They are,” Illyana whispered. “But from different sources.”

Each of them stepped into their matching pod when the doors hissed open. A scanner pulsed. Then screens ignited inside—walls lighting with data, videos, and test footage.

Dani’s pod (Earth-313):

She watched herself strapped in a neural halo. Fear projections spiraled from her body, morphing into beasts and fires—until one caught fire in reality.

“Subject capable of pulling fear signatures across dimensional walls.”

“Core match found in Rasputina_9A1. Merge attempt logged.”

“PROJECT WRAITH KING initiated.”

“Result: Containment failure. Facility breach. Total staff fatality.”

“Wait—what?” Dani’s voice cracked.

The screen didn’t stop.

“Essex body terminated in Event Zero. Consciousness retained in system AI.”

“Testing protocols initiated on prime subjects. Bait sequence active.”

“Primary directors: Reyes / Reya. Orders rerouted.”

Illyana’s pod (Earth-9A1):

She saw herself opening Limbo—not a gate. A wound. Her skin cracked with glyphs. Limbo spilled out like blood.

“Subject accepted throne architecture.”

“Merged with Moonstar_313 in unstable tether.”

“Rift ruptured core lab. Multiversal destabilization triggered.”

“Version lost to Limbo.”

“They used me as the gate.”

Sam’s pod (Earth-R14):

He watched looped footage of himself in a collapsed mine shaft. Holding debris up. Screaming for someone. Loop resetting. Over and over.

“Subject relives point of trauma to maintain team stability.”

“Loop self-imposed. Recursion ideal for field anchoring.”

Sam closed his eyes. “They called this stability?”

Roberto’s pod (Earth-88X):

He was in fire. Reliving it. Juliana’s death. His own. Over and over.

“Flame-core sustained by guilt resonance.”

“Subject requires internal combustion to function.”

“Subject will not allow self-extinction.”

He turned away. He didn’t want to watch the rest.

Rahne’s pod (Earth-W73):

A younger Rahne—ears pointed, eyes too bright—convulsed as energy readings spiked. Screams filled the room. But they weren’t her own.

“Subject absorbs emotional frequency within 200m field.”

“Cross-dimensional echoes breached mental containment.”

“Loss of subject confirmed. Pre-death empathy rupture rendered stable facility unsafe.”

Rahne backed into the wall.

Her knees buckled. Breath shallow. Hands shaking.

“I felt her,” she whispered. “I felt all of them. Every one.”

Illyana turned. “Rahne—”

“No,” Rahne hissed. “I’m not supposed to feel this much. I’m not—”

Silence is your punishment.

She touched her chest like it wasn’t hers.

Then she lunged toward Illyana.

Sam tackled her mid-lunge, bringing her down in a blur of movement. “It’s okay—it’s okay—Rahne, you’re still you—”

She thrashed. Screamed. Not her voice. Voices.

Sam wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her against the floor.

“She’s absorbing us,” Dani shouted. “We’re too close to the dimensional field. It’s affecting her —”

The pod glass beside them cracked.

“Sam—!” Roberto shouted.

Sam’s back hit the wall.

He slammed his hand against the emergency seal  beside Rahne’s pod.

The glass shattered—

And they both fell through the wall.

Sirens began to howling.

Steel doors dropped instantly—separating them.

Sam and Rahne sealed in one chamber.

Roberto and Illyana locked in another.

Dani alone in the central command.

Dani turned to the dark screen in front of her as the door slammed shut.

The screen blinked alive on its own.

She heard footsteps from behind her.

A voice. Calm. Familiar.

“Danielle. Phase Three was never meant to succeed.”

Reya stepped out of the dark.

“WRAITH KING failed. But you were never the weapon, were you?”

“You were the key.”

The screen glitched.