Chapter 5 >>>Chapter 5: The Choice<<<

With blurred shapes, muffled sounds, and a sharp, throbbing ache in her skull, Mia's world came back to her in pieces. She blinked quickly to focus as she stirred, the cold concrete pressing against her cheek. The damp, metallic air around her smelled of rust and something darker, like blood. Above, a single, flickering lightbulb swung gently, creating warped shadows on the walls.

Her presence hummed with subdued menace as the woman towered over her like a statue carved out of smoke and shadow. Lyra looked like she was from a dream-or a nightmare-clad in flowing black, her hair falling in silver coils over her shoulders.

Lyra said, "Welcome back, Mia," in a low, velvety voice that was laced with danger. "You seem to be feeling much better now."

Better? Every muscle in Mia's body screamed, her limbs were shaking, and her vision was swimming. The turmoil in her mind, however, was far worse than all of that. She recalled being caught off guard. A needle. darkness. And now this-her, the concrete, the dungeon.

"What do you want from me?" Mia made herself sit up straight and demanded. Her tone faltered but persisted. She refused to let Lyra experience the joy of witnessing her break.

A slow, mysterious smile curved Lyra's lips. Her eyes glowed dimly, as though something old and blazing had illuminated them from within. "Mia, you have to decide. A decision that will decide our world's destiny.

Mia gasped. The words were too dramatic. However, Lyra could tell by the expression in her eyes that this was no game. Her chest roared with her heartbeat. Her blood raced with the urge to fight or run, but she stayed motionless, calculating.

"What... Decision?" she said softly.

Lyra took a step forward. As though Mia were standing under a stormcloud, the air changed, growing heavier. "Come with me," Lyra said. "Stand by me as I rebuild this dysfunctional system-demolish it and create something better from the ashes."

Mia furrowed her brows. "Better? You mean to seize power and dominate everyone?

"

Lyra did not refute it. Her eyes grew brighter. "Or you can fight me," she added, wiping an invisible speck from her robe." Reject me. Try to die. It's an easy decision."

Mia felt panic gnawing at her throat, but she forced it down. She recalled what Jade had said to her prior to her abduction: "Lyra offers power, but her price is poison." All of my instincts told me that this was a test, a trap. However, it wasn't the type of question where you could circle a response and move on. It was either life or death.

A wave of fear swept through Mia as Lyra cupped her chin with her icy fingers. Although Mia winced, the woman's hold remained firm.

Lyra whispered, staring into Mia's eyes, "You'll make the right decision." "I'm sure you will."

Mia remained silent. Not just yet. Though her throat was constricted, her thoughts were beginning to race. What if she joined in disguise? What if she cooperated long enough to get away?

She tried to hide the internal conflict as she looked into Lyra's eyes. She said cautiously, "I... I need time.It's time to think. The full stakes are beyond my understanding."

Lyra cocked her head, thinking. Mia briefly thought she had gone too far. The woman then flashed another toothy smile.

Excellent. "I'll give you some time," she said with ease. But be aware that your vulnerability increases with the amount of time you wait. Weakness comes from indecision. And I can't stand weakness.

Mia covered the flutter of relief in her chest with a slow nod. Time. She only required that. To find a way out of here, use a small portion of it.

The words escaped Mia's lips before she could stop them as Lyra turned to go. "Hold on."

Back to her, Lyra stopped at the door.

"What if I decide to oppose you?" With a shaky but firm voice, Mia asked. "How are you going to treat me?"

The room appeared to be motionless. Lyra's face lost its warmth as she turned around. Her once-promising eyes were now blazing with icy rage.

She whispered, "You will be hunted if you resist me. Broken. deprived of everything that defines your identity. Your abilities. Your liberty. Your name. The remainder of your life will be spent in hiding, running, and the shadows. And you will fall at some point."

The coldness of those words covered Mia's shoulders like a layer of ice. A tiny, unyielding ember of defiance, however, blazed beneath the fear.

Mia said in a clear but flat voice, "I understand." "I'll decide soon."

Lyra gave one nod. "All right. But keep in mind that time is running out."

With a groan that reverberated in Mia's bones, the heavy steel door locked behind her.

There was silence.

Mia sat still for a moment. Then, with her legs swaying under her, she slowly forced herself to stand. She was still alive despite having scraped arms and filthy palms. Lyra had given her time, and she wasn't going to waste it.

She looked around the room; there was no furniture, just bare concrete. in the corner. A little wooden chair with a cracked leg that is still functional.

She glanced up. High up in the wall was a tiny, rectangular window that was barely wide enough to crawl through and covered in dust. However, it was her only opportunity. The only way out.

Wincing as the chair scraped the floor, Mia walked across the room and dragged it within. Carefully balancing, she climbed on top and grabbed for the window. She hardly touched the bottom frame with her fingertips.

She stretched higher, gritting her teeth. The glass was fragile and old. To her surprise, it gave when she pushed against it.

A blast of cool air struck her face. It was getting dark outside. She heard faint sounds, perhaps crickets, somewhere in the distance. There is a world outside of this prison.

Even though the sight of freedom made her heart sing, she was struck by the realization that running away would not be the end. It would just be the start. Because Mia would have to choose between running and fighting if Lyra was correct and war was approaching.

Her breath hazed against the windowpane as she gazed out.

This was no longer just a matter of survival. She had to decide what kind of person she wanted to be.

A puppet?

Or a fighter?

The door creaked behind her.

Mia stopped.

Now she needed to move.