Stella stood in the dark, groaning in pain, yet turning around to see who it was.

  The silence pressed in from every direction. The lights here were weak, barely glowing from the ceiling panels. Shadows stretched along the walls like long fingers.

  “Brian?” she called again. Her voice echoed faintly.

  “Who are you, why don't you show yourself,” she growled.

  No answer.

  Then, another sudden hiss of air. A blade flashed through the darkness. Steel sliced across her back.

  The pain exploded instantly. Stella gasped.

  Her body jerked forward as the sword tore through her clothes and skin. Heat rushed across her back, followed by a spreading wetness.

  She staggered.

  Before she could regain balance, another strike came. The blade cut across her back again.

  This time, it was deeper.

  Her legs buckled. Stella collapsed to her knees with a strangled groan.

  Her breath came in ragged bursts.

  Then a figure stepped out of the darkness.

  Maxwell.

  The dim light caught his face as he approached slowly.

  Stella’s heart slammed against her ribs.

  “You!” she rasped.

  Her hands pressed instinctively against her back as if she could hold the blood inside her body by sheer force.

  Maxwell’s lips curled slightly.

  “Yes,” he said calmly.

  His voice echoed in the empty corridor.

  “This is your day of judgment.”

  Stella’s mind raced through the last few minutes.

  Brian.

  The panic.

  Newton in danger.

  Her eyes widened.

  “You are the one who sent Brian to me.”

  Maxwell nodded.

  A grin stretched across his face.

  “And he did it without me asking twice.”

  Stella’s fingers curled into fists.

  Her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw hurt.

  “That bastard,” she growled through pain.

  “I am going to kill him.”

  Maxwell burst into laughter.

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  The sound bounced against the corridor walls.

  “You are still so arrogant,” he said, shaking his head slightly, “that you cannot see this is your end.”

  His eyes hardened.

  “You won’t have that opportunity.”

  He moved suddenly.

  His arm swung.

  The blade lunged toward her chest.

  Stella reacted on instinct.

  She rolled sideways.

  The sword slashed through empty air.

  Ignoring the burning agony in her back, she forced herself upright.

  Her breathing turned sharp and uneven.

  Maxwell didn’t pause.

  He attacked again.

  Another strike.

  Stella twisted away.

  The blade scraped against the wall behind her, sending sparks across the stone.

  Maxwell advanced.

  Step after step.

  His attacks came fast now.

  Precise.

  Relentless.

  Stella barely had space to breathe.

  She ducked one swing.

  Sidestepped another.

  The corridor felt too narrow.

  Too dark.

  Too suffocating.

  Her back burned with every movement.

  Then Maxwell lunged again.

  Stella moved forward instead of backward.

  Her hands shot toward his wrist.

  She grabbed the sword arm.

  Their bodies collided.

  The blade halted inches from her ribs.

  For a moment they stood locked together.

  Both straining.

  Maxwell’s strength pushed downward.

  Stella fought back desperately.

  Their feet slipped on the stone floor.

  Then they both lost balance.

  They crashed to the ground.

  The sword clattered but neither of them released it.

  They rolled across the floor, each trying to gain control of the weapon.

  Maxwell grunted as Stella shoved against him.

  Her arms trembled but she pushed harder.

  Desperation flooded her muscles.

  She rolled over him.

  Suddenly she was on top.

  Her knees pinned his sides.

  Her hands forced the blade downward toward his throat.

  Maxwell’s eyes widened slightly.

  Their faces were inches apart.

  Stella’s breath came in harsh bursts.

  “You lose,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Then, she felt it.

  A sharp, cold pressure against her back.

  For a second her body refused to understand.

  Then the blade pushed deeper.

  Steel pierced through flesh.

  Through bone.

  Through her heart.

  Stella froze.

  The strength left her arms instantly.

  Her fingers loosened around the sword.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  She turned her head slowly.

  Standing behind her was Brian.

  His hand still gripped the dagger buried in her back.

  Their eyes met.

  Stella’s mouth opened slightly.

  She wanted to ask why.

  The word formed in her mind.

  But no sound came out.

  Her body went limp.

  She slid sideways off Maxwell and hit the floor.

  At that moment footsteps thundered through the corridor.

  Newton burst around the corner.

  Samuel and several girls followed behind him.

  Newton’s eyes landed on the scene.

  He stopped.

  His body locked in place.

  Stella lay on the ground.

  Blood spread beneath her.

  The dagger protruded from her chest.

  “Stella,” Newton screamed.

  The sound tore out of him like something breaking inside.

  He ran forward and dropped to his knees beside her.

  Stella’s lips trembled slightly.

  Her eyes fluttered.

  She tried to speak.

  No words came.

  Newton lifted her carefully into his arms.

  His hands were already soaked with blood.

  He looked up.

  Brian stood beside Maxwell.

  Both of them watched.

  Brian’s mouth curved into a grin.

  Newton’s vision blurred with fury.

  “Let’s take her to the clinic!” Samuel shouted.

  Newton nodded quickly.

  “Help me!”

  Samuel grabbed Stella’s legs.

  They lifted her together and started running.

  The girls followed behind them.

  The corridor blurred as they rushed through it.

  Newton’s heart pounded wildly.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered desperately.

  “Stella, stay with me.”

  Her head rolled slightly against his shoulder.

  Her breathing grew weaker.

  They ran faster.

  Halfway to the clinic, Stella’s hand slipped from Newton’s arm.

  It dropped lifelessly to the side.

  Her eyes closed.

  Newton felt the change immediately.

  “No,” he whispered.

  “No, no, no.”

  He shook her slightly.

  “Open your eyes.”

  No response.

  “Stella!”

  He kept running.

  They burst into the clinic doors.

  Inside, the bright white lights flooded the room.

  A nurse turned at the noise.

  She hurried toward them immediately.

  “Put her here,” she said quickly.

  They laid Stella on the bed.

  The nurse didn’t ask questions.

  She had seen scenes like this before.

  Her fingers moved swiftly.

  She pressed against Stella’s wrist.

  Searching for a pulse.

  Her other hand checked near Stella’s neck.

  Then she leaned closer, listening for a heartbeat.

  Several seconds passed.

  Then the nurse slowly straightened.

  She exhaled quietly.

  “She is already gone.”

  The words fell like a thunderbolt.

  Newton stared at her.

  His ears rang.

  “What did you just say?” he asked hoarsely.

  The nurse hesitated.

  For a brief moment, the professional mask on her face slipped.

  Something softer appeared in her eyes.

  “I am sorry, my dear,” she said gently.

  “But she is gone.”

  Newton’s legs gave out.

  He collapsed onto the floor.

  The room spun around him.

  Samuel remained standing beside the bed.

  His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

  He said nothing.

  The silence in the clinic felt unbearable.

  Newton stared at the ground.

  Images flooded his mind.

  Stella standing against Maxwell in the restaurant.

  Stella laughing during lunch.

  Stella climbing down the wall beside him.

  All of it flashed through his head again and again.

  The friendship she had offered.

  The protection.

  The courage.

  The belief that things could be different.

  Newton’s chest burned.

  But it wasn’t just grief anymore.

  Something darker stirred beneath it.

  Anger.

  Cold.

  Sharp.

  His fingers slowly curled into fists.

  His voice came out as a whisper.

  “Fine.”

  His head lifted slightly.

  His eyes hardened.

  “This world is ruled by violence.”

  The words came slowly.

  Then his jaw tightened.

  “Then violence will become my name from now on.”