The drive blurred by in fits of minutes, hours—it was impossible to track. Naomi sat forward, elbows on her knees, the corrupted sword wrapped tightly in her lap, humming beneath layers of cloth. She couldn't ignore it, the weight and chill digging into her skin, its constant thrum settling deep into her bones like a heartbeat gone wrong.
"You're going to lose him too," it whispered.
"Can't control this, can you, Faraday? Just like your parents' ambitions."
She adjusted the bundle, trying to shift the weight. It didn't help. The sword's presence gnawed at her, amplifying every doubt, feeding every suppressed failure. It twisted through her thoughts, nudging old memories, old fears. You're wasting time. You're not enough. You'll let them all down.
Beside her, Dan was enjoying himself, glancing between the road and Lucius, who had joined in the conversation with a glib ease that grated on her nerves. Every so often, Dan's gaze flicked over to her, assessing, though he didn't say anything. She recognized the look—it was Dan's way of prying without words, letting silence pull the truth out. She hated that about him, the way he could see through her defenses.
"Naomi?" Ava's voice floated up from the back seat, a soft interruption.
Naomi shifted the sword bundle in her lap and leaned back, glancing over her shoulder. "What's up, Aves?"
"I... think I know where Elias is," Ava said, her voice almost a whisper, tinged with something unspoken.
Dan's hands stilled on the wheel. He pulled the car to the side of the road, turning back to face her. "Go on," he urged, curiosity threading through his words. "Where'd our resident swordsman go?"
Ava's expression tightened, as though the answer cost her more than she wanted to admit. "There's this cottage. In the mountains. His dad used to take us there when... when things got tough for us."
Naomi blinked, trying to picture the memory Ava was painting. "His dad?"
"Yeah," Ava murmured, her gaze distant. "He's the one who got us into gaming. After his mom passed, they'd game for hours after school, just the three of them. Sometimes I'd drop by, but it was mostly their way of staying connected." Her voice softened, a hint of regret woven through her words. "As you know, I never really got into it the way they did, but being there with them meant a lot to me. And I could tell they felt the same. Mr. Ward has long since passed away, but we still had each other. But whenever life got too much, Elias always talked about going back there. It was... his place."
The memory settled over Naomi, vivid and bittersweet. She could almost see it now—Elias, a younger version of himself, cross-legged on a cabin floor, his dad beside him, the two of them lost in their own world. Gaming wasn't just a hobby for Elias; it was a tether, a connection to the past, to what he'd lost.
Dan gave a thoughtful nod, tapping his fingers absently on the steering wheel. "So... the cottage. That's where he'd go?"
"That's where he'd want to go," Ava confirmed, looking to Lucius for reassurance.
Lucius inclined his head, his smile patient. "Trust your instincts, Miss Martinez."
The sword stirred in Naomi's lap, its hum growing sharper, like a blade scraping against her nerves. She could feel it press against her like the weight of old debts, all the times she'd stood outside closed doors as her parents negotiated, made promises, bought time. Control—that was the answer. She'd learned early that if you couldn't control the world, it would swallow you whole. And this sword, with its cold, invasive hum, seemed to know exactly where to press.
Dan glanced at her, brow furrowed. "You alright over there?"
She forced a tight smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking."
His eyes narrowed, unconvinced. "You could drive, and I'll carry that thing. You don't have to handle it alone."
"I can manage," she replied, her voice firmer than she felt.
Dan's assessing gaze lingered for a moment before he shrugged. "Alright, but if that thing starts whispering sweet nothings, don't say I didn't offer my help."
A brittle laugh escaped her, real but tense. Dan's humor had a way of breaking through, of pulling her back from the edge when everything felt too heavy. It was part of why she trusted him, even on days when she didn't quite trust herself.
"Naomi," Ava piped up again, her hand reaching forward to rest on Naomi's shoulder. "If you start getting weird, I can put you in a chokehold from here."
Naomi's laughter was hollow but sincere. "After watching you take down two guys at the bar, I believe you. Thanks, Aves."
The words were meant to lighten the moment, but they felt shallow, a half-hearted attempt to drown out the hum still curling around her mind.
Dan shifted gears with a grin, easing the car back onto the road. "Alright, team. Let's get to this cottage. With any luck, we'll reach it before anyone catches wind of where we're headed."
Lucius smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "But before we go fully off the grid... any chance we can pick up snacks?"
Naomi rolled her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Dan always knew how to make things feel less impossible. And, surprisingly, so did Lucius.
The hum of the sword stayed with her as they drove, relentless and unyielding, a low pulse that echoed through her chest. She adjusted the bundle again, but it was a hollow gesture. The weight was there to stay—cold, patient, waiting for her to falter.
Outside, the wind rattled against the window, carrying the scent of distant pine. For the first time, Naomi wondered if maybe just holding on wouldn't be enough.