---Red---

I wish I could let it go-all of it. Everything that's been clawing at the edges of my mind since the moment I arrived here, on Earth. It's like leaving Naurus, leaving home, broke something inside me.

Nothing has felt right since.

But the more I dig into it-into my past-the more I realize it's not just Earth. Nothing has ever felt right. Not really. Not even when I was a kid.

Not when my parents died. Not when Kylen had to step up and raise Alyse and me, trying to fill a role he was never meant to take on. Not when Kylen left for the Legion, abandoning us for the first time in our lives. And definitely not when Alyse was taken-ripped away by a daem, an evil god who saw her as just another piece in their sick game.

That's when everything really changed. The moment I lost Alyse, my world splintered. I wasn't just a kid anymore. I couldn't be. I had to become something else-something more. That's when I became the Scarlet Phoenix. That's when I burned through planes of Hell itself, fighting tooth and claw, just to get her back.

But even that wasn't the end.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Because then I learned the truth: I'm not just Red. I'm not just me. I'm part of some bigger narrative, some grand design I never asked to be part of.

And now? Now, I'm stranded here. My best friend is dead-murdered-and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. I couldn't even get back to Naurus to help him. I couldn't even bury him. All because I destroyed our one way home.

Because I couldn't control my emotions. Because I couldn't control my powers.

I let out a sharp breath, trying to shake the weight that's pressing down on my chest. It doesn't help. It never does.

My pen scrapes against the rough stone floor as I close my journal, shoving it into my pocket. Maybe somewhere in these pages, I can make sense of it all. Maybe I can find some version of myself that isn't drowning.

I push myself to my feet, the cold wind biting against my face as I step closer to the railing. From the top of Smith Tower, the city sprawls out beneath me, its nightlights glittering like scattered stars. It's beautiful, in its own way. But it's not Naurus.

It's not the forests of Pinecrest. The towering trees that seemed to hum with life, the scent of wildflowers carried on the wind, the warmth of a sun that felt like it belonged to me-it's all gone.

This place, this city... it's a stranger. And no matter how hard I try, I can't make it make sense.

I rest my hands on the railing, staring down at the lights below, searching for answers that aren't there. Maybe, just maybe, if I write enough, fight enough, or burn enough, I'll finally make sense of it all.

Or maybe I won't.