Outside, the sky had opened up. Thunder cracked and rain poured in sheets. Streets were empty—no taxis, no buses. The restaurant manager offered an umbrella, but the doors were already locked. I had to keep moving.
Each step weighed me down. My arms throbbed under the bandages. My body ached. But worse than the pain was the storm. Thunder rolled across the city, striking a deep fear I’d carried since childhood. During storms, I always froze. Lightning flares and thunder cracks made it feel like the world itself might split apart.
I clutched my coat tighter, pushing forward, the city a blur of lights and shadows.
Then—a sudden flash. A horn. A car.
No time to react.
Darkness.
When I woke, everything felt unnaturally soft. I blinked against dim lighting, clean white walls surrounding me. My body ached, but the pain was distant, manageable. I turned toward the source of movement nearby.
“Nathan…?” I whispered.
Not him.
A man sat in the corner. Tall, dressed in black, eyes unreadable. He didn’t stir until I tried to sit up.
“You’re awake,” he said, steady, deep. “Don’t move too much.”
“Who… are you?”