Not now.
Not ever again.
Above me, the estate burns with noise—gunfire, shouting, the collapse of something that was supposed to be unbreakable.
But down here, there’s only me. And the sound of my own survival.
I don’t know how long I run.
Minutes.
Maybe longer.
Time doesn’t exist anymore.
Only distance.
Only escape.
Only the single, driving need to get out.
Finally, a faint outline appears ahead. The exit.
I push harder, my muscles screaming now, lungs burning, legs threatening to give out, but I don’t stop until I slam into the door, my hands fumbling for the release.
It gives.
Cold air hits me like a slap.
Sharp.
Brutal.
Alive.
I stumble out into the forest, boots sinking into untouched snow as the night closes in around me. The trees stand tall and silent, their branches heavy with frost, the world eerily still compared to the chaos I left behind.
For a moment, I just breathe.
The cold slices through my thin clothes instantly, biting into my skin, but I welcome it.
It keeps me awake.
Keeps me moving.
Behind me, through the trees, the estate glows.
Lights.
Movement.
Flashes of gunfire cutting through the dark like distant lightning.
My home.
Still standing.
But no longer mine.
