FLY

The rebel camp was alive with activity as whispers about Wilson spread. Positioned deep within the dense forest, the camp was a hidden stronghold carved out of necessity and desperation. Tents were scattered among the towering trees, some patched together with mismatched fabric. Campfires flickered in the growing dusk, casting shadows on faces hardened by years of struggle.

Rebels moved through the camp with purpose—sharpening blades, checking weapons, and organizing supplies. Yet, as word of Wilson's arrival traveled, many paused to glance at him, their eyes a mix of suspicion and curiosity. He wasn't just a fugitive; Sara-fin's claims had made him something far more dangerous: a wild card.

Wilson sat on a log near one of the campfires, his hands tightly gripping his knees. He could feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken questions pressing down on him. But he ignored them, focusing instead on the flickering flames. They reminded him of the golden light of the surge, the energy that had saved him but also marked him as a target. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Wilson."

He looked up to see Sara-fin standing nearby, her face lit by the firelight. Her expression was calm, but there was urgency in her tone. Beside her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked hair and sharp gray eyes that seemed to pierce straight through Wilson.

"This is my father," Sara-fin said. "Mr. Brian, the leader of the rebellion."

Wilson rose to his feet, unsure of what to say. He extended a hand out of reflex, but Brian ignored it, his gaze unyielding.

"Follow me," Brian said, his voice gruff. He turned and began walking toward a cabin at the edge of the camp, leaving no room for argument.

Sara-fin shot Wilson an encouraging glance, then followed after her father. Wilson hesitated for a moment before trailing behind, his stomach tightening with unease.

THE INTERROGATION

Inside Brian's cabin, the air was heavy with tension. The walls were lined with maps of Mage, many marked with X's and circles. A large wooden table dominated the center of the room, cluttered with scattered documents and a single lantern that cast a flickering glow. Along one wall, an arsenal of weapons gleamed in the dim light.

Brian motioned for Wilson to sit in the chair opposite him. As Wilson took his seat, he noticed Sara-fin leaning casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed. Unlike her father, her gaze was reassuring.

"I know who you are," Brian began, his voice low and even. "Wilson Tanga. The son of a man who dared to defy the Ministrians. And now, the same boy who escaped their grasp with something they've spent centuries trying to protect."

Wilson blinked. "You know about the surge?"

Brian's eyes narrowed. "Everyone in this rebellion knows about the surge. It's the source of the Ministrians' power, the reason they've lived for a thousand years while the rest of us scrape by. And now, it's inside you."

"I didn't ask for this," Wilson said, his voice defensive. "I was on a school trip. I got lost. The surge—whatever it is—came to me by accident."

Brian leaned forward, his gaze hard. "The surge doesn't just 'accidentally' end up in someone. Either you're lying, or the Ministrians sent you here as a spy."

"What?" Wilson's voice rose. "A spy? Are you serious? They killed my mom right in front of me!"

"Convenient story," Brian said coldly. "They've used worse tricks to infiltrate us. So tell me, why should I believe you?"

Wilson clenched his fists, his voice trembling with anger. "Because it's the truth. I watched them murder her. I felt the surge enter me. I don't even know how to use it, and I didn't ask for it. If you think I'd ever work for the people who destroyed my family, you're insane."

Brian didn't flinch. He studied Wilson for a long moment, then turned to Sara-fin. "You're the one who brought him here. You've seen what he can do. Do you trust him?"

Sara-fin straightened, meeting her father's gaze without hesitation. "Yes. I saw him use the surge's energy to fly. If he was working with them, they wouldn't need a spy. They'd have already wiped us out."

Brian frowned, his skepticism still visible. "That's a nice story, but I need more than your word."

Wilson stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Then let me prove it."

Both Brian and Sara-fin looked at him, surprised by his outburst.

"You want proof?" Wilson said, his voice steady. "Fine. I'll show you. I'll use the surge again."

THE MINISTRY'S HUNT

Miles away, in the heart of Mage's capital, the Ministrians gathered in their grand hall. Their thrones, carved from obsidian and gold, gleamed under the cold light of floating orbs. At the head of the room stood Lord Dominic, his expression grim as he addressed the others.

"The boy escaped," Dominic said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "And with him, the surge."

Lady Sparta's fingers drummed against her armrest. "Then why aren't we hunting him down? If he's out there, the surge is unstable. He could destroy everything."

"He could destroy us," Lady Sassy added, her tone sharp.

Dominic raised a hand, silencing them. "The surge in his body makes him dangerous, yes. But it also makes him vulnerable. The energy will draw attention—and desperation."

"So what's your plan?" Lord Phil asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Dominic smirked. "We don't have to find him ourselves. We simply make him a target."

Within hours, the Ministry's networks spread the news. Posters bearing Wilson's face appeared in every city, promising unimaginable riches for his capture. The hunt had begun.

PREPARING TO JUMP

Back at the rebel camp, the tension was palpable. Word of Wilson's demonstration had spread quickly, and by dusk, a crowd had gathered at the base of a hill overlooking the forest. Torches flickered in the growing darkness, illuminating faces filled with curiosity, doubt, and anticipation.

Wilson stood at the top of the hill, staring down at the drop below. His hands trembled at his sides, and his heart pounded so loudly he was sure the entire camp could hear it.

"What if it doesn't work?" he whispered to Sara-fin, who stood beside him.

"It will," she said confidently. "You've already done it once."

"That was different," Wilson said, shaking his head. "I wasn't thinking. It just… happened."

Sara-fin placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch steadying him. "Stop thinking. The surge is part of you now. Trust it."

He took a deep breath, glancing over his shoulder at the crowd below. Rebels whispered among themselves, their faces a mix of skepticism and hope. Brian stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"No pressure, huh?" Wilson muttered.

Sara-fin smiled. "Only all of it."

Wilson chuckled dryly, then stepped closer to the edge. The wind tugged at his hair as he stared at the treetops far below. His stomach churned, but he knew there was no turning back.

He closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself. The surge was there, a faint hum in his chest. He focused on it, imagining the energy flowing through his veins, filling every part of him.

The wind grew stronger. Golden light began to shimmer along his arms, flickering like flames. The ground beneath his feet trembled as the energy built, but still, he hesitated.

"You can do this," Sara-fin whispered.

Wilson opened his eyes, took one last breath, and jumped.