Maren had heard of earthquakes and warzones where bombs littered the battleground with craters. She’d never experienced either before.
She imagined, however, that this was what it felt to be in the middle of both.
The world shook so violently that the previous tremors felt like shivers. A torrent of flames blasted the door to the smaller room open. The temperature spiked, the heat unbalancing Maren. The civilians huddled together, screaming, though Maren heard none of it. A cacophony of rushing flames blared in her ear, forcing her to cover them. Even that brought little relief.
Hell now existed in two places: one in the afterlife, the other in the middle of that inferno.
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Koda had grown used to the slight rumblings and the subsequent panicked looks on workers who rushed by as he walked away from the CEO’s office.
The most recent one, however, was far more violent.
It threw people into the wall and floor. Even Koda, walking along several large windows, tripped into one.
The street and sidewalk far below cracked, bits dipping beneath the surface as smoke plumed into the air.
Then the chaos simply stopped.
Mav. Koda rushed to the nearest stairwell.
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It was more a pounding than a ringing, but it remained in Maren’s ear even after the flames died down.
She walked forward with careful steps. It was no longer necessary to enter the side room to view the fight – or what was left of it. The far corner of the room with hospital beds was destroyed, giving way to the massive area where they’d fought the demon. But the abomination was gone, no trace remaining. Now all that lingered in that room were pools of molten metal.
And a frozen figure – the top left of the uniform destroyed to reveal his arm, shoulder, and pec – standing resolute in the center, chest jutted, arms out, and chin held high.
“Praise be to the Flame-bearer,” the middle-aged woman, standing beside Maren, said. “He who brings warm light to us in the cold darkness.”
A murmur of praise rippled across the tortured civilians who’d followed her. They fell to their knees, their voices growing louder.
Maren didn’t have the heart to be angry about it. At the cost of his life, he protected all of them and likely thousands more in the city. At this moment, he deserved the –
A frosted breath expelled from Mav’s mouth.
Like a punch in the gut, Maren lost her breath. He couldn’t be still alive. That breath had to be a figment of her imagination, or maybe it was his final one.
But if it isn’t...
Maren searched the room, head whipping left and right. A civilian had been carrying supplies recently, which meant –
There! Twenty feet behind, her red nylon bag lay toppled over. She rushed to grab it, then charged and leaped from the broken floor. To hell with her dried-out skin and pounding head. Water flowed from her skin, surrounded her, and then dropped her off near Mav.
Another breath, smaller than the last, puffed from his lips.
She yanked out a fire-starter, placing the artificial wood in front of him. She had to be fast, but careful; if the wood caught fire from the heated metal, it wouldn’t warm Mav. She lit a flame inches from his feet, then draped her warm blanket around him.
Not good enough. Maren stepped behind Mav and slid her hands beneath the blanket, wrapping her arms under his armpits and around his chest. So cold!
“Don’t die,” Maren whispered. “There are too few good men in this world already. I don’t want to lose another one.”
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Still not enough. Mav let out a small breath, head fuzzy by the warmth. That still wouldn’t have been enough to defeat that frozen, evil Wall Titan.
But he supposed it didn’t matter, now. It had been strong enough to deal with this problem. Hopefully all of the kidnapped victims were safe.
And Maren. Maybe Koda could look out for her. They’d get into legal trouble over this, wouldn’t they? Supposed that was one good thing about dying. He wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his actions.
Then, oddly, the warmth faded. Mav grumbled. Why were his limbs growing cold? Wasn’t he supposed to become one with the great Flame Titans and experience eternal warmth?
No, he wasn’t cold. He was freezing!
Mav opened his eyes. A small fire flickered before him. Not held in frigid palms, however, but in a makeshift campfire at his feet. A thick red blanket wrapped his upper torso. A slender, shivering body held him from behind, both propping him up and warming his chest. She was mumbling something again.
“So don’t die, hear me?” she ordered.
Looked like he wouldn’t join Thomas just yet.
“Yes, ma’am.”
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