"When I was younger, my grandma used to tell me a story—a story of an angel with silver wings."
Lyla's mind swirled with fragments of memory as the world around her seemed to dissolve into chaos. She could feel the sharp bite of her injuries, the oppressive heat of smoke, and the overwhelming silence that followed the initial burst of noise.
She wasn't sure how long she had been lying there. Time seemed to stretch and warp, pulling her back into the safe haven of her childhood memories.
---
She was five years old again, nestled in her grandmother's lap. The warm glow of a dim lamp filled the small room, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
"Grandma! Tell me the story again," little Lyla pleaded, her wide eyes filled with wonder.
Her grandmother chuckled, the sound like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. "Hoho, my little princess never tires of this tale, does she?" She stroked Lyla's hair lovingly. "Very well, one more time."
Her voice became soft and melodic, weaving the story like a spell.
"Once upon a time, a great war broke out—a war between the Devs, the divine soldiers of the Almighty God, and the Danavas, dark creatures born from the shadows of the universe. The Danavas sought to conquer Earth, spreading destruction wherever they went. They slaughtered every living being that stood in their way, while the Devs fought valiantly to protect the planet and its creatures.
"But in their struggle, both sides became blind to the suffering of the innocents caught in the crossfire. Humanity cried out in despair, their voices lost amidst the chaos.
"Then, one day, an angel descended from the heavens. His silver wings shimmered like moonlight, wide and radiant, as if they could shield the whole world from harm. He was beautiful beyond words, his sapphire-blue eyes filled with compassion and strength. The angel stood between the warring sides, his presence commanding both awe and fear. He fought not for power, but to save the lives of the helpless.
"With his strength, he drove the Danavas back into the darkness and brought peace to the land. When the war ended, the angel disappeared, leaving behind only whispers of his existence. But the people believed that if ever the world needed him again, he would return..."
Her grandmother's voice softened as she noticed Lyla's eyelids growing heavy. "The angel will always come, my little princess," she whispered.
"Will he come if I'm in trouble?" young Lyla murmured sleepily.
Her grandmother smiled, her gaze tender. "Of course, my dear. The angel will always come..."
The memory dissolved, replaced by the harsh reality of the present.
---
Lyla was alone.
The bus groaned beneath her, teetering dangerously on the edge of the cliff. The world outside the shattered windows was a dizzying expanse of jagged rocks and empty sky. Smoke filled the air, stinging her eyes and throat.
Her body ached, every breath a struggle as she tried to push herself upright. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, warm against her cold skin.
The scene outside was eerily silent. The crowd that had gathered at the edge of the cliff seemed frozen in time, their faces masks of fear and helplessness. Among them, she thought she saw a young boy, his hands clasped tightly together as though in prayer.
A sharp crack jolted her back to reality. The bus lurched forward, its weight shifting ominously.
Lyla's heart pounded as she tried to move, but her legs refused to obey. Panic surged through her veins. She was trapped, unable to escape the looming disaster.
"Help..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the creaking of metal.
And then, through the haze of fear and pain, a sound reached her—a sound like the whisper of wings cutting through the air.
Her head turned weakly toward the shattered windshield, and there he was.
---
A figure stood amidst the chaos, his silver hair catching the faint light, the shards of glass around him shimmering like feathers. His sapphire-blue eyes locked onto hers, their intensity cutting through her despair.
It was as though her grandmother's angel had stepped out of the story, his presence a beacon of hope.
"Hold on!" he commanded, his voice steady and resolute.
Lyla's vision wavered, the world tilting as exhaustion pulled her back into darkness.
---
Leo moved swiftly, his boots crunching against the shards of glass as he entered the bus. His sharp eyes scanned the wreckage, quickly finding her slumped form near the center.
Her chest rose and fell faintly, her head lolling to the side.
"You're going to be okay," he said softly, more to himself than to her.
The bus groaned again, its front end dipping further over the edge. Leo didn't waste a second.
With a fluid motion, he crouched down and slipped his arms under Lyla's limp body. She was lighter than he expected, her frailty sending a pang of guilt through him.
As he lifted her, the bus gave a violent shudder, the metal screeching as it slid closer to the abyss.
Leo's heart raced. There wasn't much time. With a deep breath, Leo tightened his grip on Lyla and stood. The weight of her limp form pressed against him, but he pushed forward, his steps deliberate and unyielding.
Suddenly, the bus lurched, tilting further over the edge. Arthur let out a choked gasp, his knees buckling as his strength gave way.Leo's heart pounding as he felt the bus begin to tip.
Arthur's hands slipped from the rear bumper, and he fell backward, landing hard on the rocky ground. His aura flickered once more before fading entirely.
The bus groaned, the sound deafening as it tilted vertically.
"No!" Leo whispered, his mind racing. He braced himself against a seat, his knuckles white as he fought to steady himself.
The crowd outside screamed, their voices blending into a cacophony of horror.
"Lyla!" Arthur shouted, his voice filled with anguish.
Leo's eyes burned as he turned to the broken windshield. He could see the edge, could almost feel the freedom that lay just beyond it.
With a surge of adrenaline, he moved. He hoisted Lyla higher, her body slumping against his shoulder, and ran toward the opening.
The bus tilted further, gravity pulling them back.
"Not like this…" Leo whispered through gritted teeth.
In one final, desperate act, he hurled Lyla through the shattered windshield.
---
Outside, Arthur's instincts took over. He dove forward, catching Lyla just as she tumbled from the bus. He landed hard on his back, cradling her protectively.
The crowd gasped, their relief palpable.
But then, a scream tore through the air.
"Hyung!" Surya's voice cracked, his small frame trembling as tears streamed down his face.
Arthur turned, his eyes widening as he saw the bus plummet while Leo was still inside.
---
Inside the bus, Leo floated amidst the chaos. Shards of glass spun around him like stars caught in a violent storm. The roar of the wind and the groaning metal were deafening, yet in his ears, it was eerily silent.
"So, this is how it ends..." he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of the moment.
Time seemed to slow as memories surged through him, vivid and piercing. His mind painted images of Surya's laughter, of Uncle Lee's proud smile, of Aunt Nikita gently fussing over him like a mother. Jin's teasing grin as he called Leo his 'little brother,' even though they weren't bound by blood. They had all given him so much—love, warmth, a home.
"I'm sorry," he choked, his voice trembling. His chest burned, not from fear, but from the ache of leaving them behind. "I'm so sorry, Surya. I promised I'd protect you. I promised I'd never leave..."
His tears floated, shimmering in the dim light, as gravity pulled the bus deeper into the abyss.
And then, other faces appeared in his mind—faces he hadn't seen in years but had never truly forgotten. His mother, her hands soft and calloused from years of work, cupping his face as she whispered how proud she was of him. His father, always stern yet endlessly supportive, offering him quiet reassurances.
He saw Sneha , his elder sister, laughing as she ruffled his hair, her voice echoing with promises to always watch over him. Hina's bright smile—his little sister, her presence so full of life it seemed impossible that it could ever fade.
"I'm coming..." he whispered, his voice soft yet resolute. "Mom... Dad... Sneha didi... Hina... I'm finally coming to all of you."
A strange peace settled over him, like the stillness before a storm. The tears on his face no longer came from sorrow but from longing. He wasn't afraid anymore.
As the bus reached the deepest and darkest depth of the abyss, it happened again.
Just like before a vision appeared. But this time it was completely different.
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw something—a glimmer of light amidst the darkness. It was faint, like the first star in the evening sky, but it seemed to grow brighter, reaching for him.