Page 104 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

FIFTY-NINE

EMMA

Although feeling a little relieved to find out there were no new Radicals coming in, I was worried about how many were still fighting us within the Scola.

Glancing over my shoulder, I counted at least another ten kids, all huddled down and crying in fear. I jumped back off the wall, trying to “choke” my way through as many Radicals as I could. Then, I suddenly remembered little Jack back in that closet. I have to get him out of there.

But the constant projection of my energy had taken a heavy toll on me.

As the exhaustion began to set in, my haze started faltering.

The collective pain unfolding around me barely registered when three half-cloaked Radicals lunged at me simultaneously.

Time seemed to slow as my haze shrunk down, leaving me vulnerable.

Shit.

The first Radical lunged at me with a vicious swing of some kind of sword and my training kicked in.

I sidestepped the attack, feeling the rush of adrenaline as the blade sliced through the air, inches from my face.

I countered swiftly. He was quick, but I was quicker, grabbing another one of my concealed knives out of my boot.

With a flick of my wrist, I lashed out. It struck the Radical’s shoulder, causing him to howl in pain. Before he could react, I retracted the knife and delivered a powerful side kick to his chest, sending him sprawling backward.

Meanwhile, the second and third Radical closed in, both unleashing a storm of energy projectiles at me. I ducked, weaved, and dodged whatever they threw at me as fast as I could.

They advanced with a series of calculated strikes, their movements precise and deadly.

These were clearly different kind of Radicals, Offensives maybe?

They were more coordinated and I started to lose hope.

I tried to parry each blow, and although I knew I couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, the exhaustion began to slow me down.

One of them lunged for my throat while the other grabbed the knife from my hand and stabbed my arm with it.

I screamed in pain, and tears sprung to my eyes.

He pulled it out, ready to plunge it into my chest, and while the other one was holding me back, my arms blocked by his, my own knife now threatened to end my life.

"James!" I heard someone yelling his name, and then again, louder. "James!" It took me a few agonizing seconds to realize the screaming voice was my own.

I tried to shoot out my haze again, which kind of worked but was seriously diminished in power. It didn’t choke the knife-holding assailant, but it did slow him down. The guy holding me, started coughing but didn’t lose his grip.

Breathing heavily, I kept pleading and yelling out James’s name. My voice echoed through the chaos, a cry for help and protection. I nearly crumbled under my own fatigue when a sinking realization crept in: there was no way I was going to make it.

Then, in the heart of the battle, I finally spotted him—James, sprinting toward me at full speed.

My heart skipped a beat. His eyes locked onto mine, instantly registering my less than desirable situation.

Without a moment's hesitation, he threw the blades of his Skindo between us, decapitating both Radicals in one swift motion without even rustling my hair.

"James," I breathed, relief flooding over me, more profound than I had ever felt before.

"Get out of here!" he roared, engaging at least ten Radicals simultaneously—an order I defiantly chose to ignore.

His presence ignited a fresh surge of energy within me, and I couldn't help but nearly smile at the prospect of battling alongside him. Leaping over to his side, I felt profound pride standing shoulder to shoulder with the man who held my heart.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get behind that...wall, " he snarled, his surprise hidden behind his command.

"Everyone behind it is fine. And I'm fine right here," I replied calmly, as if reciting lines from a textbook.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Emma? Follow my godsdamn orders! NOW!" he shouted angrily, while shielding us from a barrage of Radical attacks.

"Nope," I answered dryly, conjuring my choking haze once again. Yes, there was a hint of smugness as I showcased my newfound ability. And yes, seeing James look at me with wide-eyed awe as I choked the life out of the Radicals closest to me, made me feel powerful and brimming with pride. Sue me.

"See? I can handle myself! " I winked, deliberately omitting the fact I'd been running on fumes for the last half hour.

He shook his head and quickly joined my side. Together, we repelled the Radicals, our synergy so profound that I could anticipate his moves before he even made them. The extensive time spent training together clearly hadn’t been in vain.

It wasn't until a group of at least thirty Radicals approached, armed with what looked like an Amplifier amongst other weapons, James reprised his earlier pleas for me to move back behind the wall. My jaw dropped at the sight of the Amplifier, realizing how thoroughly screwed we were. We couldn’t risk translating if they turned that thing on.

But fighting off so many Radicals without translation? How were we...

“Emma, I’m not kidding! Get the fuck out of here!”

I stubbornly ignored him, but as one of the newly weaponized Radicals aimed at me, James swiftly pushed me out of harm's way. In an inexplicable moment, I found myself back on the other side of the wall. How on earth...?

Quickly moving back up the wall, and from too far a distance, I now observed more Radicals charging toward James. Then, as if an unspoken command had been given, every Radical in the entire Scola redirected their attention to him . They closed in on him, a relentless swarm of threats.

Then, more Radicals entered the First Level. And more.

And more.

All of them, converging on James. Who had stopped translating… Oh gods, they had activated the Amplifier.

There were at least five hundred of them, an overwhelming tide, all lunging for James. Who couldn’t even translate to save himself.

I gazed at the man I loved, who was now facing these Radicals all alone, and a chilling fear for his life instantly consumed me.

There was no way I could get to him fast enough and there was no way he could fight them all off at once… it would only be a matter of seconds before they’d defeat him. Before they would kill him mercilessly…

The realization seized me with an iron grip, obliterating any trace of self-preservation. Any notion of "Emma" had disappeared, replaced by an unrelenting terror—the agonizing dread of his life ending before my eyes, and the unbearable prospect of existence without him.

One of the Radicals hurled a knife-like object into James's leg. My heart nearly stopped.

NO! I would rather die a thousand deaths than endure one lifetime without him.

That was not going to happen.

Inhaling deeply, I tapped into the endless abyss within me, filled with every emotion I’d shoved in there throughout the year.

I could sense the Amplifier locking onto my energy and I welcomed it.

I sensed it creeping over me—a frigid current coursing through my veins, like icy tendrils tightening their hold.

I clamped my arms tightly against my body in a feeble attempt to maintain control but I could feel it slip; I was drowning in a crushing wave of untainted terror. Unlike the fear for my own life, the panic rising at the thought of losing James took an overwhelming form, impossible to dam.

I finally came to recognize that my true angst had always resided within myself.

I trembled not because of some external force, but because of the raw power pulsating inside of me.

The realization shook me to my core, unveiling the intensity of the internal struggle I had been grappling with all along.

My translation was projecting with unfamiliar strength, and I knew what was about to happen. But it was time. Time to let go. Time to unleash my all. Time to succumb to my true self.

The awareness of the impending eruption gripped me painfully, and there was no way my fragile body could withstand the amount of surging energy. This would be my demise. And I didn't care. Because he would live.

Standing at the brink of sacrifice, I felt the weight of my decision settling over me.

It wasn't a surrender born out of weakness but a conscious choice to embrace a fate entwined with his.

My life for his. As I made that choice, a sense of purpose and determination swelled within me, eclipsing the heaviness in my heart.

His gaze, assessing and unwavering, locked onto mine. The widening of his eyes and the tightening of his lips betrayed the realization, slowly etching on his face.

"No," he whispered, his shock and pain laid bare, but it was a futile protest and remorse for his sorrow imbued my senses.

"I love you," I mouthed back slowly and deliberately, holding our gaze in an unbroken connection.

Every syllable carried the weight of a lifetime's worth of emotions and regret.

It wasn't solely an expression of love; it was a hopeful endeavor to ardently explain my choice.

Through those words, I tried to convey the testimony of my feelings for him—feelings that defiantly transcended the boundaries of mortality.

Like the detonation of a cosmic force, a scream erupted from within me, its reverberations shaking the very foundations of my being. A dark red haze forcefully exited my body, accompanied by the thunderous collapse of walls, the splintering of floors, and the violent expulsion of people.

And then, with a final act of acceptance, I closed my eyes.