his clothes singing and his face smeared with soot, stumbled through the fiery debris. Smoke filled the air, thick and acrid, making each breath feel

ced alongside his pulse as he battled the rising tide of panic within him. His world had been reduced to a chaotic haze of red and orange, a labyrinth of flames that

ough the haze of his fear and confusion, the name settling on his soul like a comforting blanket. His eyes

nightmare lingering like a ghost. He looked around, trying to acclimate to the familiar surroundings of his bedroom. His hand instinctively t

ing to the window, he watched a butterfly delicately unfurl its wings, emerging from its cocoon and embracing the

t. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and deep lines of exhaustion cut into his face, both a testament to the torment of his dreams. He leaned closer to the mirr

to stand on end. The atmosphere in front of the mirror shimmered, and a figure emerged from the distortion. It

urgency lacing his voice. "And it'

thm of fear. He pinched himself, hoping to wake from this dream. "What is this? Am I dreaming?" He thought, shaking his he

but carried an undercurrent of worry. "Listen to me, Marcus," he said, his green eyes

on him. "What do you mean we've got company?"

aze said, his gaze never leaving Marcus

racing to process the situation. "How do y

just do," he said urgently. "Tru

out, pushing Blaze away. "I don't even know who you are," he spat, the wo

wind. "Marcus, please," he pleaded, a hint of hurt in his voi

cus snapped, his chest heavin

teps reverberated from beyond the apartment door. Bla

grew louder and closer. He set his jaw des

insisted, "I can

nearly at the door, Marcus

g with the echo of the intruders' steps. Together, they faced