CHAPTER 71: Memories

CHAPTER 71: Memories

The hotel was a colossus of glass and marble, erected in the very heart of Vladslavia. The lobby, illuminated by chandeliers that seemed suspended in mid-air, shone as if they were in a palace rather than a hotel. The group went up to their rooms guided by impeccably uniformed receptionists.

Phoenix dropped his bag on the armchair, barely looking around. It was a luxury suite, too quiet for his liking. Marcus turned on the television while Vanessa and Lucian stepped out onto the balcony to look at the city.

"Look at this," said Marcus, settling onto the sofa. "They're showing news from the USA."

The screen showed images of the White House under reconstruction. Cranes rose among smoldering ruins, and the voices of news anchors spoke of that devastating attack.

Phoenix's heart stopped for a second. Blood thundered in his ears. The images mixed in his head with the memories: the blood, Adam's roar, Lucio collapsing, the scattered bodies.

Not again... not again.

He brought a hand to his forehead. A sharp pain pierced his temples like invisible blades. His breathing became ragged, but he made no sound.

Shut up... shut up, damn it. Don't think about that. DON'T THINK.

His own scream echoed inside his head, a sound that shattered him. He saw himself, bloodied, carrying the weight of all the dead he couldn't save.

ENOUGH, DAMN IT! ENOUGH!

A cold sweat ran down his neck. He was on the verge of losing himself in that whirlwind of memories and guilt.

"Phoenix!" Enid's voice pulled him from the abyss.

She was beside him, gripping his shoulders firmly. Her eyes looked at him with a mix of resolve and concern.

He blinked several times, as if waking from a nightmare with his eyes open. The sound of the television returned, the murmur of Marcus flipping through the magazine, Vanessa's footsteps. Everything was there, real.

Phoenix swallowed, trying to pull himself together. He said nothing. He just nodded slightly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

Enid didn't press further, but she didn't remove her hand from his shoulder until she was sure he had fully returned.

In the hotel room, the air was perfumed with a subtle scent of fresh flowers and varnished wood. Enid was putting her things away in the closet with the same meticulous calm she usually displayed in moments of greatest tension. She folded her clothes precisely, placed each object in its place, as if this routine kept her grounded.

Behind her, Phoenix was sitting on the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head buried in his hands. His breathing was heavy, irregular, as if the weight of all he had experienced was crushing his chest.

"Enid..." his voice sounded muffled, broken.

She turned, looked at him for a moment, and noticed his nails were growing, sharp, black—the sign that his lycan side was activating when he couldn't control his emotions.

"I can't..." Phoenix trembled, the words were difficult. "I can't get those images out of my head... Adam... Lucio... the blood... the White House burning... me there, feeling like a monster, as if I was the one who had destroyed everything..."

His voice broke. A tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another. His hands pressed hard against his face, his newly sprouted claws almost digging into his skin unintentionally.

"I feel... like even though I finished Adam, it was never enough. There's always another enemy, another hell waiting for me. And the worst part..." he lifted his head for a moment, his eyes red and glassy, "...is that I feel less and less human, Enid. As if everything I do... everything I am... pushes me further towards the beast."

Enid listened in silence, without interrupting, letting each word out as if he were tearing a piece of pain from within.

"I'm scared," he finally admitted, his voice breaking completely. "Scared of losing myself... scared that one day I won't be able to control what's inside me... scared of hurting you, even though I swear I never would..."

Enid walked slowly towards him and sat beside him. She didn't judge him, didn't stop him. She simply hugged him, letting his head rest against her shoulder, even as his claws still scratched the sheets.

"You are not a monster, Phoenix," she whispered firmly. "What happened, what you saw... you carry it because you care. Because you are still human, even though it hurts. That is your strength, not your damnation."

He closed his eyes, letting more tears escape. For a moment, he allowed himself to sink into that embrace, as if it were the only thing holding him together in the midst of the storm.

The room was silent, barely disturbed by the faint murmur of the city filtering through the window. Phoenix remained on the bed, his shoulders slumped and his face covered by his hands. His nails were still elongated, marking the bedspread as if he feared tearing it. He breathed raggedly, as if every word he had spoken earlier had been an unbearable weight thrown from the depths of his chest.

"That's it... I said it..." he murmured barely audibly, as if talking to himself.
His voice broke in the air, and after that, there were no more words. Only a silent sob, held back with fury, trembling in his throat. His entire body seemed to collapse in on itself, broken, exhausted.

Enid looked at him with a calm that seemed impossible at that moment. She approached slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder, firm and warm, as if to remind him that she was still there, that he wasn't alone. She didn't ask him to stop crying or to pull himself together immediately. She simply was there, with that constant presence that supported him even when he felt there was nothing left to hold onto.

"Phoenix..." her tone was low, almost a whisper trying to slip into the chaos he had raised inside his own head. "I understand you, I know. But listen... you can't stay here, trapped. You can't let this break you more than it already has."