The apartment hallways smoldered as Jack and Lyra sprinted for the stairwell. Patch flapped overhead, coughing pigeon curses through the smoke.
"Top of the list: new place," Jack wheezed, leaping over a burning doorframe.
Lyra jabbed a finger at him while running. "You think? That shadow psycho just leveled half your floor!"
"Technically it was our joint effort," Jack said, vaulting the rail and landing two flights down. "Teamwork, Hayes."
A roar echoed above—the building shuddered as shadows coiled down the stairwell. Draven. His silhouette stalked after them, darkness rippling like black flames.
Lyra hurled a burst of technomantic lightning upward. It fizzled against the shadows, barely slowing him.
"Ideas?" she shouted.
Jack spotted a cracked gas pipe jutting from the wall—the explosion had ruptured it earlier. Raw fumes hissed into the corridor.
"Yeah," he grinned, whipping out a lighter from his pocket.
"Jack, no—" Lyra's warning was drowned by the whoomp of igniting gas. A fireball chased them downward, swallowing Draven's shadows and everything else in its path.
Jack tackled Lyra through a maintenance door. Patch dove in after them as the flame front blasted overhead, tearing the stairwell apart with a deafening roar.
Dust settled. Jack's ears rang; his hoodie smoked, half-molten. Lyra shoved him. "That could've killed—"
"Perfect past tense: could've. Didn't," Jack said, patting smoldering fabric. "Besides, pretty sure our shadow friend hates fire. You're welcome."
From somewhere above, Draven cursed—a grim, muffled sound—then the floor collapsed, cutting pursuit.
Patch hopped onto Jack's shoulder, singed feathers twitching. "Congratulations, genius. You just turned the building into Swiss cheese."
"Improvised renovation," Jack corrected. "Adds character. Now move before it develops skylights."
---
The Alley Escape
They burst onto the street through a ground-floor service door, greeted by panicked tenants and wailing sirens. Flames licked broken windows. Jack's stomach twisted—not from guilt, but from excitement still fizzing in his blood.
Police barriers were already materializing. Lyra dragged him toward a side alley. "Collateral damage attracts questions. We leave. Now."
"Right behind you," Jack said, though his gaze lingered on the chaos he'd caused.
As they slipped into the maze of backstreets, Lyra spun on him. "That stunt could've killed everyone in the stairwell."
Jack shrugged. "Draven kills me, everyone else dies slow anyway. Quick fireball felt kinder."
"You can't keep solving problems with bigger explosions!" she hissed.
"Sure I can," Jack said lightly, tapping the glowing sigil on his palm. "Burn down enough obstacles, path clears itself."
Lyra stared, realization dawning of the darker pragmatism beneath his jokes. "You're serious."
"I'm alive," Jack replied,