Several floors above—

Charles didn’t slow.

He couldn’t.

The corridor ahead stretched long and polished, lined with dark-paneled walls and recessed lighting that cast a cool, even glow across marble floors.

Decorative fixtures—vases, sculptures, framed pieces—sat untouched for all of half a second before he tore past them.

WOOSH—~

His wings clipped the edge of a mounted frame—

CRACK—!

It shattered instantly, glass bursting outward in a spray as the force of his movement ripped it clean from the wall.

A table beside it overturned from the displaced air, skidding across the floor before slamming into the opposite side.

Behind him—

The destruction didn’t stop.

It escalated.

The hair followed.

Not loosely.

Not trailing.

It filled the corridor like a storm forced into a narrow space, strands whipping forward in violent bursts—

KRRRSH—!

Walls split apart as they struck, deep grooves carved into the structure as the strands punched through paneling and concrete alike.

The ceiling fractured under repeated impacts, chunks dropping as lights burst one after another—

POP—! POP—!

The floor didn’t fare better. Sections cracked under the force, tiles lifting and breaking as the barrage chased him relentlessly.

It felt like she was right behind him.

Close enough to touch.

Charles gritted his teeth.

The turn ahead came fast.

Too fast.

He angled—

His injured wing lagged.

Pain shot through his side as he forced the motion anyway, muscles tightening as he dragged the wing into position. The correction wasn’t clean—

His shoulder clipped the wall—

THUD—!

He bounced off it, momentum shifting awkwardly before he forced himself forward again, wings adjusting mid-flight with visible strain.

The woman in his arms clung to him tightly, fingers digging into his suit as her voice broke apart over and over.

"Where’s my baby?! Where’s my baby?!"

Her words came out in uneven bursts, sobs cutting through them as her body shook against his hold.

Charles didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

His focus stayed forward, jaw tight as he pushed through another corridor, the next stairwell entrance already in sight.

Behind him—

The hair struck again.

CRRSH—!

A section of wall exploded inward, debris scattering across the hall as strands tore through where he had just been.

He dove through the stairwell entrance—

WOOSH—~

His boots barely touched the steps as he angled upward, wings pulling tight to avoid catching the confined space.

The ascent wasn’t smooth. His injured wing dragged slightly, forcing uneven adjustments that sent him brushing against the walls more than once—

THUD—! SKRRR—!

Each impact jarred his body, but he didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

He burst onto the next floor.

And kept going.

The comms didn’t help.

They made it worse.

Static bled through first—

KSSSH—~

Then voices.

Urgent.

Overlapping.

"The group of infected is coming toward this building!"

Another voice cut in immediately—

"Roof is still secure! No sign of the two earlier infected!"

Then—

"This is ground floor team, we—"

BOOM—!

The transmission broke under the force of an explosion, the sound distorting the channel as something heavy slammed in the background.

"What the hell is going on down there?!" Mr. Olynk’s voice came through, sharp and demanding.

"Sir! It’s the elevator it—oh no—fire! Fire!!"

Gunfire erupted over the line—

THUD—THUD—THUD—!

Another voice, strained—

"The male infected is on the first floor!! Shit! We can’t—"

Static swallowed the rest.

KRRRSH—~

Charles’ jaw tightened further.

There was no clean way through this.

No time to think it through.

Just movement.

Just forward.

He angled toward another turn—

And felt it.

A strand slipped through.

Too fast.

It scraped across his leg—

SKRRR—!

The material of his suit held.

But the force didn’t stop there.

A dull crack followed—

CRK—~

Pain shot up his leg instantly, sharp and immediate, forcing his body to tilt mid-flight.

His balance broke.

At that speed—

It cost him.

He slammed into the wall—

THUD—!

Then the opposite side—

THUD—!

Each impact echoed through the corridor as he struggled to stabilize, his grip tightening around the woman to keep her shielded from the hits.

His wings flared unevenly, one catching the air too late, the other folding under pressure as his momentum collapsed.

He hit the ground hard—

CRASH—!

Sliding across the marble, dragging along the surface as debris scattered around him.

He tucked his wings in tight at the last second, protecting them as he came to a rough stop.

The world snapped back into focus fast.

Too fast.

The corner behind him—

Movement.

She came through it.

Floating.

Closing the distance.

Her hair already shifting, pulling back into position, strands lifting as they aligned toward him—

Ready.

Poised.

His eyes widened.

His chest rose sharply—

But he didn’t freeze.

Didn’t wait.

He pulled the woman close instantly, wrapping her into his frame as his wings came forward, folding around them in a protective cover.

The feathers layered over each other, forming a barrier as he braced—

’This is going to hurt.’

He held.

Waited.

One second—

Two—

Nothing.

No impact.

No strike.

His brow furrowed.

Slowly—

Carefully—

He pulled his wings back.

And saw it.

The strands—

Frozen.

Held in place inches from his face, from his chest, from the woman curled against him.

They trembled.

Barely.

A faint blue traced along them.

Charles didn’t need to guess.

"...Don."

He knew.

The infected woman didn’t move either.

Her head shifted slightly, as if trying to locate something just out of reach, her blank eyes scanning with small, uneven motions.

Then—

A sound.

Below.

A low, rising force—

CRRRAA—!

Charles’ head tilted instinctively, gaze dropping toward the floor beneath the infected.

And then—

BOOM—!!

The ground exploded upward.

The floor beneath her shattered in a violent burst, debris and dust erupting into the hallway as a figure drove up through it—

Don.

His body surged upward in a tight motion, one arm tucked in close around the child held firmly against his chest, the other—

Drove forward.

His fist connected cleanly with her chin.

BOOM—!

The impact detonated through the space, the force sending a shockwave outward that scattered debris in every direction.

Dust burst away from the point of contact, fragments of flooring and broken structure flung outward as her head snapped back violently.

Her body followed.

Driven upward.

Straight through the ceiling—

CRRRAASH—!

Her head broke through first, followed by her torso, then the rest of her form as the force carried her into the floor above.

Her hair whipped upward after her, strands tearing free from the hallway as they were dragged along in the motion.

The pressure vanished instantly.

Don didn’t stay.

The moment his strike completed, he shifted his position mid-air, using his telekinesis to pull himself back from the opening he had created.

His boots touched down lightly despite the destruction around him—

Then he moved.

Fast.

He closed the distance to Charles in seconds, stepping through settling debris as dust still hung in the air.

Charles had already brought his wings forward again slightly, shielding against the falling fragments.

The woman beside him shook uncontrollably, sobbing as she tried to process everything at once.

Don stopped in front of them.

Extended his hand.

His voice came low—but urgent.

"Let’s go, now!"