Alan woke to pain. A throbbing ache pulsed at the base of his skull, each heartbeat driving another spike through his head. His wrists burned, metal cutting into flesh.He tried to move, but his arms were stretched above him, chained to a steel beam overhead. The bite of iron was cold, merciless, and absolute.The warehouse was different now. The candles were gone. A single floodlight burned from above, harsh and white, bleaching the world into cruel shadows.It left everything outside its circle in pitch black, as though he were hanging in the middle of nothing. And in that circle, across from him, was his sister.She was bound to a chair again, hands and ankles lashed with thick rope. Her head lolled weakly, but when Alan groaned, her eyes snapped open, wide, terrified, but alive.Relief surged through him, hot and painful. “I’m here,” Alan rasped, his throat raw. “I’ll get us out.”A slow clap broke the silence. From the shadows stepped Ethan. He looked immaculate, black suit perfe

The night air was supposed to be cool, but Alan felt nothing but fire. Smoke clung to his skin, the stench of gasoline and charred wood still burning his lungs.His sister trembled in his arms, her face buried against his chest, sobbing as though the world had ended. And for Alan, it almost had. Ethan was still alive.The thought gnawed at him like a vulture on bone. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ethan’s bloody grin, heard that laughter that had echoed even as the knife sank into his ribs.He should’ve died there, in the flames, consumed by the inferno. But he hadn’t. He had slipped away, like smoke vanishing into the night.Alan clenched his fists, chains biting into his skin. “Not again,” he muttered through gritted teeth.Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Fire trucks, police. Too late, as always. Too useless. Alan couldn’t risk staying, questions would drown him, authorities would chain him down, and Ethan would vanish for good. He couldn’t let that happen. Not

The gunshot still rang in Alan’s ears as the chair tipped and his sister screamed. Time slowed.The world vanished, the rifles, the shadows, the grinning demon of Ethan, all of it dissolved into a single point of horror: her body plunging into the black pit below.Alan’s heart stopped. His lungs seized. His mind roared one truth, louder than bullets, louder than fear. Not again. He threw himself forward.The pistol clattered across the concrete as Alan dove into the abyss, chains rattling, blood pouring from the wound in his side. His body slammed into the void, darkness swallowing him whole.Wind howled past his ears. The stench of oil and rust hit his nose. And through the blur, he saw her, the ropes snapping loose, her body tumbling, eyes wide with terror. “ALAN!”Her scream ripped him open. He stretched out, fingers clawing the air, ribs screaming as he twisted, dove, reached, And caught her wrist.The impact nearly tore his arm from its socket. Pain ripped through him like fire.

Alan’s fists slammed against the console, the sharp crack echoing through the archive like a gunshot. Pain shot up his arm, but he didn’t feel it.All he saw was the flickering image on the screen, Gabriel. A face he had never seen, yet somehow knew. His brother. Alive. In chains. And Ethan had him.Alan’s lungs heaved, ragged with fury. His vision tunneled, black edging the corners of his sight. His sister’s trembling voice reached for him, fragile and small against the storm in his chest.“Alan… please. Tell me this isn’t real.”Alan’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He couldn’t look away from Gabriel’s gaunt, hollow face. Every second that passed felt like a knife twisting deeper. His voice came out low, guttural.“It’s real.”“But why? Why would they”“Because they always wanted control.” Alan’s voice was ice. His hand hovered over the console, fingers twitching as if ready to strangle the screen itself. “They wanted to split us apart. Divide us. Use us.”The speakers hissed again,

Alan clawed his way out of the wreckage, the fire licking at his heels, the taste of ash burning his throat. His skin was blistered, his shirt shredded, his ribs screaming in protest with every motion.But he was alive. Barely. And in his chest, beneath the cracked bones and searing pain, his heart hammered with one word, brother.He staggered into the night, coughing, eyes locked on the city lights beyond the docks. Ethan was out there, moving Gabriel like a pawn on his board.Alan could almost see it, armored vehicles, black convoys cutting through the streets, guards in tinted visors keeping his brother caged. Alan spat blood, straightened, and whispered into the darkness.“You won’t keep him from me.”Alan stumbled back to the van where his sister waited. The moment she saw him, her eyes widened in horror. “Alan!” She rushed to catch him as he collapsed against the hood, his blood smearing across the paint. “You’re burned, you’re bleeding”“I don’t have time.” He shoved himself up