Chapter 19: The Last Thread of Light
The air was damp. Cold. Reeking of rot and metal.
Suraj hung limp from the chains bolted to the ceiling—his wrists torn, bones bent at wrong angles, skin welted with burns and bruises. His breathing was faint, wheezing. Barely there.
The room wasn't a room. It was a tomb dressed in steel. Fluorescent lights flickered above, casting a pale, sterile glow over the instruments that lined the walls—blades, injectors, scalpels… tools not made for healing, but for annihilation.
Across from him, behind a reinforced glass wall, Yumiko screamed.
Her fists pounded the barrier. Her black hair lashed like wild vines, slamming against the unbreakable glass in a storm of fury. "Let me in! Let me in! I'll kill you all! I swear I'll rip your souls apart!"
The soldiers didn't even look at her anymore. They focused on him—the boy.
The one who wouldn't speak.
The one who kept saying, "I don't care where she's from. I love her."
And so they kept torturing him.
"Tell us what she is," one of them growled.
"Where did she come from?" another demanded.
He coughed, blood dribbling down his chin, and lifted his head just enough to speak.
"She's the only… reason I held on… this long."
They punched him again. A bone cracked. His scream echoed through the chamber and struck Yumiko's heart like a dagger.
"STOP IT!" she shrieked. Her voice was raw, torn. Her eyes glowed with pitch-black rage. "Take me! Take ME instead!"
But they didn't stop.
Because they wanted her to watch.
They needed her to break.
Suraj's eyes met hers through the glass. Bloody. Broken. But still him.
"Yu…mi…ko," he whispered. "Don't… let them… change you…"
She dropped to her knees. Shaking. Lost. Her claws dug into her palms so hard that blood ran down her fingers.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I couldn't save you…"
"No," he mouthed, barely audible. "You saved me… every time you smiled."
Then the lead torturer picked up a long blade, its edge glowing white-hot.
Yumiko screamed so loud the room trembled.
Suraj turned his head to her one last time, his lips barely moving.
"I love you."
Then the blade plunged.
Yumiko watched his body jerk, then go still.
Silence.
And then—
The glass wall shattered. Not from any explosion. Not from any weapon.
From her.
Yumiko stepped through the shards, black hair unfurling like wings of death, her face frozen in a hollow, quiet storm. The soldiers opened fire—pointless.
She didn't flinch.
Her hair ripped through armor. Flesh split. Blood sprayed the walls like spilled paint. She didn't speak. Didn't cry.
She butchered.
Within seconds, the entire facility was silent except for the hum of dying lights and the steady dripping of blood.
Yumiko dropped to her knees beside what remained of Suraj. Her hands trembled as she cradled his broken face. Her tears fell, hot, relentless.
"I told you…" she whispered. "I told you I'd protect you…"
She pulled him into her lap. His blood stained her skin, soaked her dress.
"I will never forgive this world," she said. Her voice was empty now. Void. "Never."
Her hair coiled and uncoiled like snakes waiting to strike. Her aura darkened the room itself.
This wasn't just pain.
This was awakening.
Inside the storm of agony, there was a flicker. A flicker of warmth.
Suraj could no longer feel the weight of his body. His skin was torn, bones broken, but something deeper ached far worse—his soul. He was fading. But not fast enough.
He welcomed the pain now. It meant he was still alive.
Barely.
Is this it? he wondered. Is this how I disappear from this world… like a forgotten name on a broken wall?
His thoughts wandered—staggered—like a dying flame trying to hold onto air. Blood dripped from his mouth, but in his heart, a memory burned brighter than any agony.
Yumiko.
Her voice.
Her face.
Her warmth when she held him like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.
He bit back a sob, lips cracked and dry. I didn't even get to say goodbye. Didn't get to tell her how she saved me more times than she knew.
They wanted him to talk. To scream. To give her up. But he didn't.
He wouldn't.
Because no matter what they did to him, they could never understand that she wasn't a threat to him—she was salvation.
He chuckled weakly. A cracked, gurgling sound. "You bastards…" he mumbled. "You think… I'm the weak one…"
One of the guards slammed a rod into his ribs.
He gasped, then laughed again. Blood spilled from his lips.
"If being weak means… loving her this much… then I'll be weak till my last breath."
Behind the glass, Yumiko's screams thundered like a dying star. He couldn't look at her anymore. He couldn't bear it.
Don't break for me, Yumiko. Please. Don't lose yourself because I'm gone.
He stared up at the flickering ceiling light. White. Cold. Indifferent.
I wish I could've seen the stars with you again… just once more.
I wish we could've grown old. Argued about stupid things. Held our kid in our arms. Laughed under rain.
He blinked slowly. The world dulled.
I'm scared, Yumiko. I'm really scared. But even now… I don't regret loving you. Not even for a second.
The pain spiked again—sharp, brutal—but it was distant now, like someone else's suffering. The edges of his world collapsed inward. He was no longer in the room.
He was with her.
Lying in that field. Staring at the sky. Her hair tickling his face. Her voice whispering things no one else ever heard.
"I love you," he whispered. Barely sound. Barely breath.
And in the last moment, as the blade came down, Suraj didn't cry. He didn't scream.
He smiled.
Because his last thought wasn't about death.
It was about her.
The room was spinning now. Sounds distant, warped. He couldn't tell if the screaming was still Yumiko's or just echoes in his head. But in the fading fragments of his mind, he whispered silently:
"If you ever hate this world, Yumiko… I understand. But don't hate yourself."
A memory surfaced—her laughing under moonlight, chasing fireflies barefoot in the grass, calling his name with that mischievous smirk.
"You were my miracle," he thought. "My chaos and my calm."
One tear slipped from his eye.
And then—everything stopped.
His breathing.
His heart.
His pain.
Suraj's soul slipped free from his battered body, quiet and unnoticed. No glory. No thunder.
Just silence.
He was gone.
Dead.
Not as a victim, but as someone who dared to love something brighter than this cruel world ever deserved.