Star’s gray eyes fluttered open, her vision swimming as a dropped-tile ceiling emerged above her.

“Just a moment, darling,” said a man nearby. “I’m drawing up your medicine now.”

Where, she thought. But thinking was hard. Her mouth was dry. She felt hollow. She was hungry. So hungry. And thirsty too.

An older man in a white coat appeared over her. He was smiling. “Sorry about the delay. I got a little held up this morning.”

Morning? I was here overnight?

Strobing red light alternated the ceiling’s color and the man turned away. “If this is another test—”

“Fire,” someone called, their voice distant.

“What’s this about a fire?”

“In the east wing. There’s—”

“The east wing? Where?”

“They didn’t say. Just that there was a fire.”

Footsteps thundered away.

All Star could do was wait and stare up at the ceiling. Its image appeared wet and seemed to run down the walls, revealing them as the world around her regained resolution.

Beep...beep...beep.

She looked over to find a heart monitor. What? A hospital room surrounded her, a fact that she had trouble understanding. Her nose felt irritated, and she reached up to find a tube sitting across her lip. She tried to sit up and failed. Tried to pull herself up by the bed’s railing and failed again.

“Well, hey...you.”

Star looked to find a woman at the room’s door. She wore green scrubs, her black hair pulled back. She seemed confused as she searched the exterior door frame for something she didn’t find.

“I’m nurse Pam,” she said, entering and moving to the bed’s foot-board to retrieve a hanging clipboard. “You must’ve just gotten here. Looks like they’re still setting you up.” She flipped through some papers, then flipped through them again. “Do you know what nurse is taking care of you?”

“No,” Star croaked. “And I got here last night.”

“What’s your name, Sweetie?” Pam asked, but seemed distracted as she surveyed the room.

“It’s not in my chart?”

“Uh, I think they must have your chart at the front desk.” She looked over a tray that stood at her bedside and picked up a vial. “Ketamine?” she whispered. “Who’s been in to see you?”

“Just a man. A doctor, I think.”

A wall mounted speaker hummed to life. “Ladies and gentlemen,” a man announced, his voice debonair. “Pardon the interruption. It is I, Prometheus.”

Pam gasped. “The terrorist? He’s in the hospital?”

“As you may know, today marks the tenth anniversary of the Greenbriar catastrophe.”

Star’s eyes widened. My hometown? But that was on— “What’s today’s date?”

Pam glanced away from the speaker. “The seventeenth.”

“The month?”

“February. Like he said, the anniversary of the Greenbriar explosion.”

Star pressed her head back into her pillow, tears streaming from her eyes. A month? I’ve been here a month? But it was just supposed to be a checkup. She still felt hollow, but horror and rage were quickly seeping in to fill the space.

Prometheus continued. “I thought, what better way to celebrate than by tearing down a medical institution? Which is why you should avoid the east wing. Its reaction to fire has proved somewhat violent. It might also interest you to know about the bombs I’ve planted in the rest of the building. If you have any sort of adverse reactions to explosions or fire, then I suggest you evacuate within the next... Oh, let’s call it eight-minutes. Until next time, bye for now.”

Panic ensued—people stampeding past the room.

Star grew distant as Pam worked around her, removing various medical tethers. A month. Her bed whirred into motion, soon joining a stream of people moving down the hall. I’ve lost a month.

“Evacuate,” announced an automated system. “Please, proceed to the nearest exit.”

Star wasn’t hollow anymore. She knew because something inside her was grasped and pulled. It was almost identical to the pull that brought her to the hospital in the first place, only now it was pulling her to the roof.

“Stop,” Star said.

“We can’t right now, Sweetie,” Pam replied. “We have to get you some place safe.”

Star reached out and took hold of a passing doorway, the bed slamming to a stop.

Pam doubled over it, then discovered Star’s grip on the door. “We have to keep moving. Do you not remember what the terrorist said? We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

“I have to be somewhere,” Star replied, though she didn’t know what she meant. “Just go. You’ve done enough, Pam.”

“But, you can’t get out on your own. You’ve been sedated. You need my help.”

Star was sluggish as she sat up, her back coming out of the hospital gown she was clothed in. Her hair folded down around her face, a loose ponytail dangling before her shoulder. She placed her hand on the railing and it shuddered as she tried to force it down.

Pam reached for a lever and the rail snapped down. “If you won’t let me help, at least tell me who was seeing you.”

“I don’t know,” Star replied, swinging her legs over the bedside, the smiling face resurfacing in her mind. “He was an older man. White coat. Gray hair. Smiley. Called me darling.” She met Pam’s eyes. “Is that enough?”

Pam shrugged. “It’s something. Are you sure I can’t help? I don’t know how much is still in your system and—”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Pam. Just go.”

Pam returned a reluctant nod, then faded into the people stream.

Star plopped onto the tile, the cold barely registering on her bare feet before she was shouldered and turned to brace against a wall. She saw a sign, ‘Stairs,’ which glowed green against the strobing red. She folded her arms over her chest and felt the back of her gown open once again. Apparently, the gown was the only thing she was wearing.

The stairwell was a series of steel stepped platforms in a cramped enclosure with cream colored walls. The first flight was the worst, but she felt her steps growing more firm as she made her way higher. Whatever the pull was, it was growing stronger.

Star’s legs were on fire and her lungs burned by the time she reached a door reading ‘Roof Access.’

Click-clack.

The door swung open, dispensing her under a night’s sky. Three men stood at the roof’s ledge, one disappearing after hooking to a zip-line, then stepping off. The remaining two turned back. “Carry on,” one said to the other, before looking back at her.

The man approached, a white mask spanning to cover the center of his face. Shaggy brown hair draped over one eye, but the wind kept sweeping it away. He was dressed in a black suit and looked as if he was about to attend a ball. “I’m afraid you must have got turned around in the stairs. Evacuation would have been the other direction. Unless this is a smoke break, which would be terrible timing considering the bomb threat.”

Star pulled her gown tighter and scrunched her toes into a defensive posture---the coarse roof stinging her feet. She glanced to the man, then around the roof. A short perimeter wall surrounded the ledge, but there was little else aside from fans and exhausts spread about the area. I’m here. She shook her head. Where ever here is.

“Miss?”

Star met his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he asked, pointing to his temple. “You seem lost or confused. I hope you’re not considering anything untoward.”

She glanced around the roof, to her gown, then narrowed her eyes at him. “Aren’t you that bomber guy? Why are you worried about someone jumping off a roof when you’re blowing up the entire building?”

He smiled wryly. “While I’ve been called worse, I do prefer Prometheus. If you’d please.”

“Why would I call someone something so obviously fake? Why should I do anything that a terrorist wants for that matter?”

“Why shouldn’t you do everything that a terrorist wants? It’s better for your health.”

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going? I hear the building’s going to explode and I wouldn’t want you to singe your hair.”

“Indeed. Then, I’d have to obtain a larger mask. Tell me, what is your name?”

“Sure. Just tell me who wants to know.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Only if you’re expecting me to give you a fake name.”

Prometheus frowned. “An impasse then. Very well. I hope to encounter more like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Willful. One day, I’ll wrest all of Selene’s people back from Oneiros’ grip. I hope to see you among them.”

What the hell are you high on?

A gale of wind buffeted them as a quadrupedal dragon settled onto the roof, its wings folding over the sides of the building. Its underbelly was a lighter shade than its top, which blended into the sky. Its eyes sat atop its head like just another pair of stars. But these were much too close. And much too aware.

“You.”

“You,” Star echoed, hearing the same accusation bloom in her thoughts. She glared at the dragon as it fixated on her. This was the thing that was pulling on her. It’s what brought her to the hospital. Then, to the roof. Is it manipulating me somehow? She should have been terrified. But she was too angry to be afraid. The void within her was finally gone and in it’s place was rage.

“A dragon,” Prometheus said, his hands raised. “That’s not something you see everyday. Or ever. Is it just me or does it only seem to have eyes for you?”

“Whatever you’re doing stops now,” said a voice in Star’s thoughts.

Star pointed to her head. “Why are you in my head?”

“You can hear me?” the dragon asked, its head tilting.

“You’re not the one owed any answers here, you overgrown lizard!”

“Uh, unknown girl?” Prometheus called. “Could we perhaps not antagonize the prehistoric, meat-eating creature?”

The dragon sat upright, its chest swelling as it settled onto its hind legs. “You hearing me may just save your life. So, hear me child of chaos. Whatever you were involved in here, whatever you were doing, it all stops now.”

Star’s vision constricted, her world-view seeming to throb in time with her accelerating heartbeat. What I’m doing? She reached up and clutched her face as tears crested her cheeks. What am I doing? What have I ever done to deserve any of this? Are victims now responsible for their circumstances? She gritted her teeth. “A month!” she screamed.

The dragon leaped up, a violent wing flap carrying it higher as its head reared back, then came forward again, it’s mouth open.

Star’s fist were bawled, her arms shaking at her side as she watched an orb of dull light expand, then shoot towards her. It drove her through the roof, plunging to collapse all floors before detonating against the ground.

Boom!

Smoke and debris shot along adjacent streets. Vehicles tumbled, signs and light poles doubling over as a shock wave moved through the surrounding blocks to set off car alarms. It left a smoke cloud so thick that nothing could be seen in any direction. An intense light played across interior curves to cast shadows like people moving within.

Star was doubled over, her hands planted against shattered concrete. She stood, tendrils of light coming away from her as if she wore lightning as a skin suit. She no longer felt rage. It had moved to fill every crevice. Every pore. She could no longer feel it, not because it was no longer there. She could no longer feel it because it’s what she had become and there was no distinguishing the two of them.

A figure surfaced in the aftermath—an amalgamation of grotesquely proportioned limbs and black muscle fibers that stood a short distance away. It was humanoid but its features were twisted. It hunkered forward on elongated arms like a gorilla. When it noticed her, it charged.

Star watched with disinterest as the thing barreled towards her. A pressure grew inside her, then released, an arc of light unrolling from her like a whip. The creature was struck and immediately rendered to ash. It was there and gone again in as much time.

Star’s light flickered out. Then, she collapsed.