CHAPTER 44: UNPLANNED CARDIO

  The Lapis Lazuli corridors blurred past as Suryel tore through them.

  Her bare feet struck the polished floor in sharp, uneven rhythms, each impact sending a jolt up her calves and into her spine.

  Veins of light ignited beneath her steps, flaring instinctively in response to the spike of emotion tearing through her chest.

  The glow pulsed gold-white, erratic, like a heartbeat that couldn’t decide whether to race or stop entirely on the blue gemstone floor.

  The floor rippled under her weight. Not collapsing. Not resisting.

  Considering.

  For a brief, disorienting second, the corridor narrowed, walls drawing closer as if debating whether to funnel her forward or close her in completely.

  The pressure made her breath hitch.

  Then the space eased, releasing her back into motion with a faint hum that vibrated through her bones. Watching. Deciding.

  The corridor thrummed beneath her, a low resonance that carried Authority through the architecture itself.

  Not spoken, not shouted. Simply present.

  The Realm weighed her as she ran, measuring her not as an intruder, not quite as a resident either, but as something more volatile.

  A returning guest.

  A hazard.

  Or a prophecy arriving early.

  The air ahead of her stilled. Paused.

  Then returned all at once, humming faintly around the echo of Raphael’s voice and the approaching thunder of footsteps behind her.

  The sound carried an almost amused edge, like the halls themselves recognized the chaos she dragged in her wake and leaned back to watch how it would play out.

  The miasma flowed ahead of her.

  Not chasing.

  Leading.

  It unspooled along the floor in soft curves and sharp angles, shadow folding into arrowed suggestions that slid around corners and pooled briefly at intersections.

  Hurry, it seemed to urge, not with words but with momentum.

  This way.

  Almost.

  Suryel didn’t question it.

  She followed.

  Her lungs burned as she cut left, then right, shoulders grazing luminous walls as she passed Eternal hosts mid-task.

  A pair of Scribe Eternal hosts hauling stacked tablets flattened themselves against the corridor edge as she tore by, one of them yelping as loose pages fluttered into the air behind her like startled birds.

  “Suryel?”

  Gabriel’s voice rang out from ahead, startled and immediately concerned.

  He stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, arms full of glowing scrolls and slates, his wings half-fanned in reflex.

  “Uhh… Why is the half-dressed exception with barely contained anomaly sprinting through the halls unsupervised?!” He blurted, eyes tracking her approach. “HELLO?!”

  She skidded around the corner too fast to slow properly and slammed straight into Michael’s chest.

  The impact knocked the air from her lungs.

  Michael caught her by the shoulders on reflex, boots sliding half an inch on the luminous floor as he absorbed the force.

  His grip was firm but controlled, Commander’s instinct snapping into place before confusion could fully register.

  “No running in the halls unless in an emergency.” He said automatically, already scanning her for injuries.

  Not immediately realizing who it was he held.

  Suryel hissed.

  Actually hissed.

  Her teeth bared as she twisted in his grip, eyes locking onto his with feral recognition.

  Gold light flickered violently across her skin, sparks leaking from her fingertips and sputtering against his armor.

  Michael blinked once. “Did you just— Wait, you’re Suryel.” His brows knit together. “Why are you out of the Infirmary?”

  “She escaped!”

  Raphael’s voice thundered down the corridor as he came into view, coat snapping sharply with each long stride.

  His eyes were locked on Suryel, assessment already complete, irritation simmering just beneath a clinical calm.

  “Do not let her go. Grab her!” He barked. “Michael, she will run—”

  And she did.

  Suryel ducked under Michael’s arms, twisting sideways with a speed that surprised even him, and bolted the instant she felt space open in front of her.

  Her shoulder clipped his side as she passed, sparks flashing bright enough to sting.

  Michael swore a string of beratement to himself and spun, already moving.

  He spotted the Head Messenger smack right in the middle of her path. “Gabriel! Block her!”

  “What? Why me?!” Gabriel yelped, panic flashing across his face. “I don’t do chases, I do logistics!”

  He planted his feet anyway, abandoning the supplies in his hands, wings flaring wide as he braced himself squarely in her path, jaw set with resigned determination. “STOP!”

  Suryel locked eyes with him mid-run.

  She tried to look intimidating.

  What came out instead was feral.

  Her grin was all teeth and wild light as she dropped low without slowing, sliding cleanly between his legs.

  Gabriel yelped in surprise as she shot past, popped up on the other side, and vaulted the railing without breaking stride.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  She landed badly.

  Her foot slipped on the edge, ankle screaming in protest as she rolled hard across the ground.

  The impact knocked the breath from her chest, but momentum carried her forward and she scrambled back to her feet, already running again.

  Grass replaced polished stone.

  Dust kicked up under her heels.

  Silence as the air shifted.

  She was already sprinting and disappearing into the nearby woods.

  Raphael tapped Gabriel’s shoulder in passing without slowing, a sharp corrective pat that said, move, and continued the pursuit with focused, clinical irritation.

  Yael followed close behind him, breath controlled, expression tight with worry that wasn’t even pretending to be calm anymore.

  His gaze stayed locked on Suryel’s back, hands flexing at his sides like he was resisting the urge to reach for her.

  Helel trailed last, jogging easily despite the chaos, humming softly under his breath.

  There was fondness in his eyes, a strange warmth threaded with something almost nostalgic as he watched her tear through the landscape.

  “Yep.” He muttered to himself, lips quirking. “Still the same.”

  Michael grabbed Gabriel by the arm, hauling him back into motion.

  “Come on,” He snapped. “Before she falls off the edge of the Realm or worse.”

  Branches whipped past Suryel’s face as the forest closed in around her.

  Leaves lashed her cheeks.

  Bark scraped skin as she ducked low under hanging limbs, lungs searing as adrenaline thinned and her breath came ragged and sharp.

  Her feet burned with every impact, bruises already blooming beneath her skin.

  Still she ran.

  The miasma’s arrows sharpened ahead of her, shadows stretching longer, faster now, urging her onward.

  “You’re a friend, right?” Suryel gasped between breaths, not looking back.

  Behind her, the footsteps were steady.

  Measured.

  Unrelenting.

  “You are bleeding. Stop.” Raphael’s voice carried effortlessly through the trees, maddeningly calm. “Continue and I will sedate you.”

  “TRY IT!” She screamed back, voice cracking.

  Raphael’s mouth opened, then dropped.

  Oh, he absolutely would.

  Yael jogged behind them, grimacing as Raphael shot him a glare sharp enough to cut, clearly asking, you are not cleared to be far from bed yet.

  He offered a helpless grin in return, shoulders lifting slightly, as if saying, please don’t smite me, it said as clearly as words.

  “Suryel, please stop.” Yael called, voice gentle despite the chaos. “You don’t need to run!”

  “I do!” She shouted. “Wait. Actually—”

  She vanished behind a tree at the edge of a clearing.

  When Yael and Raphael reached it moments later, they found her peeking out from behind the trunk, fingers curled around the bark.

  Her hair was wild.

  Her eyes bright.

  Too still.

  Silence stretched, taut and mischievous.

  “Yael?” She asked blinking sweetly, head tilting. “How do I get out of here?”

  Yael opened his mouth.

  He almost answered.

  But Helel slapped a hand over it from behind, laughter bubbling up as he leaned in. “Nope. Don’t fall for the cute face, little brother. That’s a trap. Look.”

  He nodded back toward the healer as Suryel darted away again, a hiss at Helel for ruining her plan breaking free as she sprinted.

  Raphael stopped dead.

  His expression smoothed into something cold and ancient.

  His posture shifted, shoulders squaring as if a containment clause had just been activated somewhere deep in his bones.

  “That’s it.” He said quietly. “I am tying her down.”

  Helel laughed once.

  Yael ran harder.

  Suryel burst through the forest’s edge and skidded to a halt at the cliff’s edge.

  The world dropped away.

  Her stomach lurched as the ground vanished beneath her vision, the miasma surging under her feet just in time to hold her back by inches.

  Soil crumbled and fell, tumbling through open air, friction slowing it just enough for her to hear it before it smashed against the rocks below.

  A massive wave rose and slammed into stone.

  The crash was thunderous.

  Then louder still as it shattered into a roar that echoed up the cliff face.

  Cold mist sprayed her face.

  She gasped.

  Her heart hammered.

  The miasma coiled beneath her feet like whispering counsel.

  Urgent.

  Impatient.

  Suryel spun at the dead end, hands flinging out in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  She squinted into the distance, breath hitching as she spotted the shape looming beyond the drop. “Now where do we go from here?” Her voice faltered. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Beyond the raging sea, suspended between sky and water—

  Stood the Archive Tower.

  Something inside it stirred.

  Far away, within a cube, a presence stopped turning on his knees and grinned.

  Raphael slowed at her right.

  Yael and Helel stopped behind him.

  Suryel stood trembling with her back to them, facing the sea.

  The miasma danced at her heels, hurried and expectant, like a forgotten promise finally allowed into the open.

  Helel did not laugh this time.

  “Suryel?” Yael called softly. “Come back. We can talk.”

  There was nowhere left to run.

  Raphael exhaled slowly. “Of all the places.”

  He muttered. “Of course it had to lead her here.”

  Gabriel arrived with Michael from her left, peering over the edge. “Is this where we tackle her?”

  “No.” Michael said sharply. “Absolutely not, she might back away.”

  Wind lashed Suryel’s hair as she turned.

  Fury, terror, defiance warred openly across her face.

  Gold sparks pulsed erratically from her skin, storm-bright and unstable.

  The miasma whispered.

  Her eyebrow twitched.

  A shadow shaped like a door formed behind her.

  The miasma whispered again.

  “Stop telling me what to do!” She snapped.

  The brothers froze.

  Then realized she wasn’t looking at them.

  She stared down at her feet, clawing at her leg, voice dropping to a whisper. “I knew it… you were not a friend after all.”

  Yael moved instantly, reaching for her ears.

  She raised a hand.

  He stopped.

  “If you won’t listen to us…” Yael said quietly, hurt threading his voice. “Then at least stop listening to the miasma too.”

  Helel stepped forward, glare scorching and silent.

  The miasma recoiled.

  The shadow-door remained.

  Active.

  As if waiting.

  “I can get you out.”

  The voice came cold through the door.

  Weapons flared into being.

  “Belial!” Michael roared. “You are not allowed here!”

  “When did I ever ask?” Belial replied lightly.

  Suryel whispered to herself. “Out. How do I get out?”

  On the other side of the door—

  Lawlessness smiled and took that as an invitation.

  Author’s Note:

  While I was visualizing Belial.

  I thought to compare Samael’s crow energy to his and thought.

  Ah okay. Shoebill aura it is LOL.