The Final Breath

CHAPTER 3 — ASH AND STEEL

The sound of rain was different underground. Softer. Like the city was trying to forget what lived beneath it. “Again,” Gwen said.

Billy moved. Faster than before. His palm sliced the air; a wall of heat erupted, melting the thin line of chalk drawn on the concrete. “Too much,” Gwen said. “You’re burning your control.”

Billy spun, chest heaving. “You said power comes from emotion.”

“Not from rage.”

“Feels the same to me.”

They circled each other in the dim tunnel light. Candles flickered, shadows stuttering across their faces. Gwen stood calm, his breathing steady.

Billy was all movement, sweat, tension, sparks of blue light skating over his skin. “Your pulse is erratic,” Gwen said.

“My pulse is fine.”

“Then stop shaking.”

Billy’s hand twitched. The floor cracked under his heel. Gwen sighed. “Eight years, and you still fight like a child hiding from ghosts.”

Billy lunged. Energy flared, air and flame, colliding. Gwen barely moved, deflecting it with a subtle twist of his fingers.

The blast ricocheted into the far wall, carving a deep groove through the stone. “Good,” Gwen said. “Now do it without the tantrum.”

Billy’s jaw tightened. “You want calm? You should’ve saved them.”

Silence. Just the sound of the candle hissing. Then Gwen said, “That’s not on me.”

Billy’s next strike came blind. Gwen caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted, and forced him to the ground. “Lesson one,” Gwen said evenly, “Grief doesn’t listen. You have to make it.”

Billy growled, struggling. “Let go.”

“Make me.”

Billy exhaled, eyes blazing. The air shimmered again, that same pulse from years ago. Gwen’s grip slipped for half a second, just long enough for Billy to roll free.

He came up breathing hard, but the shimmer in the air was different now: steadier, more deliberate. Gwen nodded once. “Better.”

Billy wiped blood from his lip. “You call that better?”

“You didn’t destroy the floor this time. Progress.”

He turned away, but Billy wasn’t done. “You talk like a teacher, but you never answer anything. What are these elements really for? Who made them?”

Gwen didn’t face him. “The first people who feared the dark. They learned to speak its language. The elements answered.”

“And the Consortium?”

“They corrupted it. Twisted the order into power and profit.”

Billy stared at his hands, faint lines of blue energy running under the skin. “And my parents?”

Gwen paused, the air thick between them. “Your father tried to stop them. Your mother tried to protect you. That’s all that matters.”

Billy stepped forward. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you can live with.”

He grabbed his coat from a hook and started toward the tunnel door. Billy followed. “Where are you going?”

“Up top. Supplies.”

“Let me come.”

“No.”

“I’m not a kid anymore.”

Gwen stopped, turned, eyes narrowing. “Then start acting like it. The city isn’t ready for you.”

Billy bit back his anger. “Or you’re not ready for me.”

A flicker passed through Gwen’s gaze, not annoyance. Sadness. “You sound like him,” he murmured.

“Like who?”

Gwen didn’t answer. He walked out into the stairwell and disappeared. The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It felt alive.

Billy paced the chamber, every nerve humming. His hands twitched again, faint sparks jumping between his fingertips.

He remembered his mother’s voice, the fire, the way Gwen’s shadow had filled the doorway that night. “Control,” he muttered. “Patience. Silence.”

He sat cross-legged, eyes closing. For a moment, he almost found stillness. Then the lights flickered. Footsteps, not Gwen’s. Billy was up in an instant, energy gathering around him. “Who’s there?”

A whisper from the dark: “Master Gwen’s not the only one watching you.”

A figure stepped out, small, quick, wrapped in a dark jacket. A girl. Barely older than him. “Who are you?” Billy asked.

“Name’s Nina.” She held up a slim data pad, glowing faintly. “You’re the prodigy, right? The ghost in the tunnels?”

Billy frowned. “What do you want?”

“News. Your teacher’s been lying to you.”

The air around them shifted, electric, uncertain. “About what?” Billy asked quietly.

“About who killed your parents,” she said. “And who ordered the hit.”

Billy took a slow step forward. “You’d better start talking.”

Nina’s smile was sharp. “Then you’d better start listening.”

A distant rumble shook dust from the ceiling, the city above moving, restless. Billy’s pulse flared, blue light crawling up his arms. “Tell me.”

Nina’s gaze didn’t waver. “The Consortium didn’t send that kill team. It was someone inside the Order.”

Silence dropped heavy. Billy’s voice was barely a whisper. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Before he could move, she threw something at his feet, a coin, same sigil as the one Gwen gave him. Only this one was burned black. “Find the truth,” she said. “Before he finds you.”

Then she vanished into the dark. Billy stood there, every muscle taut, staring at the coin. The faint blue in his hands turned red for the first time.