Assad froze for a moment, her words cut through the chaos.
The prison's walls shuddered, the spikes trembling. the black flames were closing in, and they were coming in way too fast. Assad dug his shoes into the cracked pavement, bracing both hands against the writhing wall of fire.
"Come on… not yet!" he roared, pushing back with every ounce of strength he had.
But the prison didn't listen. It moved as if it were alive, feeding, devouring, shrinking. The guards screamed from inside, their faces illuminated in a hellish red by the inferno.
One was frozen in fear, trembling and unable to move, the other still clutched the briefcase, jaw set in defiance.
"Move! I said move!"Assad shouted.
"I—I can't!" the terrified one sobbed.
Assad's jaw tightened so there was no time for debate. He ripped his hands away from the flames and dashed inside the heat, searing his vision, warping everything around him — the air felt molten, and the ground cracked beneath each step.
He grabbed the frightened one by the arm, her skin already blistering.
"Hold on to me."
Her eyes widened. "What are you—"
"Saving your damn life."
He scanned the area, searching through the haze for anything at all and then he spotted it. A puddle. Small, but enough. Rainwater mixed with oil, glimmering faintly beside the rubble.
It wasn't much, but it was all he had.
Assad turned to both girls. "Listen to me carefully. I'm going to throw you toward that puddle. When you hit it, roll. Don't think, just roll. The water will put out the flames, right?"
The defiant one spat blood. "You're insane—"
"Yeah, I've heard that before."he muttered,
Without waiting for a response, he crouched low and, with a burst of energy, hurled the first guard straight through the collapsing flames. She screamed as the fire caught her sleeves, but she landed half in the puddle, steam bursting around her.
She hit the puddle hard, splashing water everywhere. Steam hissed, smoke rising. She rolled and rolled, panting her sleeves were scorched, her cheek burned, but she was alive.
Assad smiled faintly, relieved. "Good… that worked."
Then he turned to the other guard. "Your turn."
She stared into his silver eyes, taking in his scorched clothes and the fire swirling like a tempest behind him. The way he said it calm, certainly sent a chill racing down her spine.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"…You sound terrifying when you say it like that," she muttered, gripping her briefcase tightly.
Assad blinked, then let out a small laugh. "Sorry. Just a habit."
"Yeah, yeah, let's do it." she exhaled,
He nodded once, grabbed her arm, and with a sharp grunt, flung her toward the same puddle.
The fire caught her mid-throw flames igniting on her shoulder and back, crawling down her clothes and hitting the puddle hard, water splashing everywhere, but instead of dousing the flames…
A hiss split the air, followed by a scream that echoed through the street.
"AAAAAAAHHHH!"
Assad froze. The puddle wasn't extinguishing the flames it was feeding them. The moment she touched it, the water turned black, bubbling violently. She thrashed and rolled, desperately trying to put herself out, but the flames clung to her skin like tar.
"What the hell—?!" Assad sprinted forward, bursting through the dying wall of fire. His heart raced in his chest, panic surging.
"Stop! Stop, drop, roll! Just—"
Her screams grew louder, raw and breaking. Steam and smoke enveloped her completely. The stench of burning flesh filled the air.
"Help her!" "Please, she's my sister!"cried the first guard, stumbling toward them.
Assad froze mid-step. "...What?"
The burning girl reached out toward the voice, her eyes wide with agony then the flames consumed her entirely.
Her scream faded into a whisper, then silence. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left.
The surviving guard fell to her knees, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "No… no, no, no…"
Assad stood there, frozen. His mind replayed the last thing she'd said: Sister.
He turned to her slowly. "She was your sister?"
The guard's tear-streaked face snapped toward him, a mix of fury and despair.
"I…the water… it wasn't meant to—"Assad paused, feeling a dryness in his throat. "
She pounded her fist against the slick pavement, tears streaming down her face. "You liar! You killed her!"
Those words struck him harder than any bullet ever could.
Assad took a cautious step closer to her. The heat was starting to fade, but the air still hung heavy with the smell of burnt flesh and metal. He crouched down next to the surviving guard, who was trembling as she clutched the briefcase tightly to her chest.
"Hey, I didn't mean for—"he said softly, his voice rough around the edges.
"Get the hell away from me!" she screamed.
Her voice cracked, a raw mix of rage and grief. She scrambled backward, her boots slipping on the slick tiles, her eyes wide with fear.
"You—you touched her! You threw her into that… that thing!"
Assad froze, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air, torn between reaching out and pulling back. His chest felt like it was being squeezed.
"I was trying to save her," he murmured. "If I had known—"
"You didn't know anything!" she shot back, tears streaming down her cheeks
. "You play the hero, and everyone ends up dead! Just… stay away from me!"
The weight of her words hit him harder than the heat ever could. He looked at her, so small and fragile now, shaking and covered in ash, and he couldn't find a single word to make sense of it all.
For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved. The only sound was the soft crackle of dying embers in the alley.
Finally, Assad lowered his hands. His gaze drifted to the two briefcases lying nearby, half-burned but still intact. He swallowed hard.
What now?