JESSI.
Jessi stumbled toward the main stairwell, trying to get to them, to help. Her head pounded. Her skin was hot, flushed like a fever, and every time someone shouted or cursed outside the building, the words hit her like blows.
She passed a crying teenager pressed against the front door, and her own chest seized. She heard fear from a mother holding her toddler, and bile rose in her throat. Anger radiated from two arguing scouts—and it was like acid under her skin.
She couldn't filter it.
It was too much.
Make it stop.
She gripped the front door, her finger slamming into the key pad but none of her codes worked.
Make it stop.
She slammed her back into the wall and slid to the ground, shaking. She couldn't breathe. Her vision pulsed, blurring between crimson and static.
"Jessi!"
A voice—maybe Jules? Or Boris?
Everything slammed into her like a wave. Not just sound and sight—but raw, tangled feeling. Every nerve screamed.
Her mouth opened in a silent cry. And then—
Darkness.
--
BORIS.
Boris nearly tripped over himself as he spotted Jessi crumpled on the ground when the security monitor flashed back to life.
"Jules!" he barked. "It's Jessi. She's down."
Josh looked up from where he was still holding the beam in place. "Is she hurt?"
"No visible injuries," Boris said, crouching and examining the screen but I'll check when I get to her, she's at the front door.
Jules knelt beside Josh finishing off the welding. "She's been off for days. Too many arguments, too much tension. And she was near the blast."
Josh tightened his jaw, still bracing the temporary support. "Get her somewhere dark. Quiet. Far from people."
"I'll take her to the rooftop greenhouse," Boris said. "It's sealed, soundproofed. She can recover." He rushed from the room.
As Boris carefully lifted Jessi in his arms, her head lulled against his shoulder, and a faint murmur escaped her lips—something unintelligible, something full of grief and rage and fear.
With the temporary beam holding and power restored everyone exhaled. Jules glanced at Josh one last time before following Boris.
"We're not done here," she said. "Someone planned this. We need to find out what's next."
Josh stared into the smoke-filled hallway. "We will."
--
JOSH.
The tower was quieter now—eerily so. A layer of soot still lingered in the air, the scent of scorched plastic threading through the vents. Power had returned, but only partially. Half the lights buzzed like angry hornets. The other half flickered or stayed dark.
Josh sat at the long table near the northern windows, sipping water from a chipped mug. His hands were still blackened with smoke and ash, streaked from the welds, but he hadn't felt it. Not until now.
"She's stable," Boris said, lowering himself into the chair across from him. "I checked her vitals twice. Gave her a mild sedative to help her sleep deeper, but honestly… I think her system just overloaded."
"She's an empath," Jules said softly, her voice tired but clear. "It's the only thing that makes sense."
Josh rubbed his temples. "And it's only going to get worse if we don't figure out how to help her control it."
Silence stretched between them. Outside, the storm hadn't returned—but the air was still heavy. Like it was waiting.
"She's not like the rest of us," Boris said. "It's not just trauma. It's literal input—emotional bandwidth none of us can even comprehend. And she's surrounded by people falling apart."
"We've been using her as a medic, a scout, a counsellor," Jules added. "Without even knowing what she's absorbing. That blast didn't knock her out. We did."
Josh stared down at his hands. "We were so busy watching Ty, and Rosie, and fortifying the base… we didn't realize one of our own was cracking open in the middle of it. If anyone should've noticed it should've been me. I-- I see so much but I didn't see this."
"Well, we know now, no point in laying fault on anyone" Jules said, pushing a tablet across the table with a schematic of the tower. "We're reassigning people. She's off duty until we build her a filtered zone. A new role. Something that lets her adapt without drowning in all of us. Thankfully there's just the four of us in here -- can you image how bad it would've been if we'd let the people in like she wanted?"
Josh nodded. "Agreed."
Boris glanced down the hall, toward the rooftop stairs. "She kept asking about Ty. Right before everything happened. I think she suspected something."
Jules raised an eyebrow. "She knew he was compromised?"
"Not consciously maybe," Boris said. "But… if she's an empath, he probably felt wrong to her. Like oil in water."
Josh leaned back in his chair. "Then we need to trust her instincts. Going forward. Even if they don't come with hard proof."
They all nodded.
Outside, the winds picked up again. Not a storm. Not yet.
But close.