Scene 1

Sounds.
Soft, high-pitched—still just beyond hearing.
Reaching him. Tormenting him.
Grinding against his ears.
Trying to strip him of sleep.
Of that twisted sleep.

…

Wake up.

“AAUGH!”

Sirens. The thunder of helicopter rotors shredding the air.
Not just noise—warnings.
He had to run.
He lurched upright in a violent motion—only to slam into the ground.
He stared at his feet as if they were to blame. “What?”

He went with the second option. His lungs.
The helicopters were already in sight.
He had to hurry.
He drew in every scrap of air he could find.
And then—his mouth birthed a vortex of sand.
He was hurled skyward.
Helicopters. Missiles.

“Shit!”

Think, Andrew. THINK.

One closed in. Andrew filled himself with oxygen again.
To his right—he fired compressed air.
The missile veered off course.
Another came. Andrew locked his gaze onto it.
He spread his palms as wide as he could.
With everything he had—a thunderous clap.
The air warped into a serrated edge. The missile split clean in two.
His third and final enemy—the ground.
It wouldn’t kill him. But crashing into all that sand would cost him time.
Getting captured wasn’t an option.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay suspended.
Something was wrong.
Like a balloon, he filled his lungs again.
He fixed his eyes on one helicopter—on the cockpit.
Target locked. He vanished.
The agents in the lead helicopter froze.

“Where is he?” the pilot asked.

The copilot reached for the comms. “No idea.”

His arm stopped. Someone had grabbed him.
Andrew stood between them.
Oh. Shit.
The pilot drew his weapon.
He aimed at Andrew—Andrew ducked.
The shot tore through the copilot’s skull.
Footsteps behind him. Andrew slipped into nothingness.
“Fuck!” one of the agents shouted, raw with helplessness. “Stay sharp—he could be anywhere.”

Andrew reappeared—one kick sent an agent crashing down. A hook came—he ducked, snapped back with a clean strike to the jaw. Someone grabbed him from behind.
“That’s not how we do things,” he said.

His elbow answered—one, two, three strikes until the man went limp.
Only the pilot remained.

BANG!

A shot straight into his left leg. Andrew dropped to one knee, clutching it hard.
He pressed his chest, inhaled in fury—and as precise as a bullet—

FIUM!

The pilot collapsed, blood spilling across the cockpit.
For a moment, Andrew managed a slower breath.
“Voyager 1, this is Voyager 2. Do you copy?”
He tilted his head. If his eyes hadn’t betrayed him, only two helicopters remained.
He looked at his hands.
No other choice.
He rushed the cockpit, took the pilot’s seat, and swung the helicopter until he faced them head-on.
“Voyager 1! What are you doing? Respond!”
Andrew steered toward the helicopter on the left and pressed the control.
A missile launched.
“VOYAGE—”

KABOOM!

The helicopter shattered into fragments.
His own aircraft lurched violently—Andrew wrestled it back under control.
A faint exhale.
He pushed forward, chasing the last remaining helicopter.
Pointless—it already had distance on him.
He lifted the controls slightly—the missile lock aligned for a fraction of a second.
Exactly where he wanted it. He pressed the button.
The explosion filled the sky with noise.
Andrew’s hand slipped from the controls.
His breathing spiraled. He couldn’t feel his chest.
His hands looked… wrong. His mind refused to move the way it used to.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done—what he’d taken, what he’d destroyed.
The past years of his life felt distant, like he’d only been watching someone else live them.
Someone unfamiliar—yet more familiar than anyone.
His hands trembled. He clenched them. It only made it worse.
He couldn’t even ask what was happening to him…
Because that wasn’t him, was it? Just someone else. Maybe he was being controlled. Maybe—
His saliva felt thick.
He gripped the controls tightly. Crash it. End it all right here.

No. Who was he kidding? That wouldn’t kill him.
A hollow laugh escaped him. His senses flickered in and out. His eyes refused to focus.
He breathed—slow, painful exhales that scraped his throat like glass.
A long sigh.
His vision began to clear. Slowly, he raised his head.
There was only one person who could help him.
Maybe.
He had nowhere else to go.
Continuing what he’d started was no longer an option.