Chapter One: Disguise of Hope

The hallways of the compound were cold — not just from the steel walls or artificial lighting, but from the silence. The kind of silence that only exists in places where no laughter lives, only orders, fear, and secrets.

I pushed my mop across the spotless floor, pretending to care about the dirt that didn’t exist. Just another face in the shadows. Another cleaner. Another nobody.

But inside me, everything was burning.

She was here. Somewhere inside this fortress of abilities and cameras and men who could kill with a thought. She — the girl I once loved, maybe still did — had been taken by this organization.

She could see the future.

And they wanted her to be the core of something unthinkable — a machine that could see time itself. Past. Present. Future. But she wasn’t a machine. She was herself. Fragile. Human. Scared.

They didn’t see that. But I did.

I had searched for her for weeks in silence. Entered their world as a nobody — a cleaner. Hid my power. Played dumb. Waited. Watched. Hurt.

Until one day… I overheard something.

A group of girls were being brought in — caretakers, they said. For a “delicate subject.” Suspicious. Too suspicious. My heart knew. My gut screamed. It had to be her.

And so, I made a choice.

I used my gift. Morphing, shrinking, shifting. I became someone else. A girl. Soft voice. Slender hands. Disguise perfect. Just enough to pass their checks.

And it worked.

They sent me to the inner chamber — the castle. A place unlike any I had seen. Towers, rooms, guards with abilities. Cameras on every wall. Fear behind every smile. I was surrounded. One wrong move, and I’d disappear forever.

But then… I saw her.

Fragile. Pale. Eyes dull like a sky before a storm. She didn’t recognize me. Why would she? I looked different. Sounded different.

But my heart — it almost broke.

I wanted to run to her. Tell her everything. Scream, "It’s me! I’m here!" But I couldn’t. Not yet.

So I waited. I became her shadow. Her caretaker. I helped her walk. Sat beside her as she ate in silence. Watched her sleep, not in a creepy way, but in the way someone watches over someone they’ve already lost once.

I didn’t speak. Just protected.

One night, she didn’t come out of the bathroom.

I panicked.

Ran in.

She had collapsed. Naked. Weak. Breathing shallow.

Instinct took over. I covered her, carried her out, shouted for a doctor. Pretending to be someone else but feeling everything as myself.

That night, I sat beside her bed and watched her sleep. Just like old times. Except now, I wasn’t her boyfriend.

I was just the Cleaner.

 from the writer :-it's my first time writing so pls don't hate me and I have written from a boy ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎perceptive so sorry and thanks for reading it

Chapter Two: Family in the Shadows ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

I wasn’t supposed to be there that morning.

But something felt wrong. A shift in her schedule, the subtle tightening of security — it was enough to set off alarms in my gut. So I broke protocol. Disguised as a fly, I slipped through vents and wires, tracing the cold metal maze of the fortress.

That’s when I found them.

Her parents.

Locked in a sealed room deep underground, barely human in the flickering light. Her mother was silent, almost ghost-like. Her father, though — his eyes burned. Scarred and bound, but still full of fight. I recognized the strength in his shoulders: super strength. An ability he'd once used for rebellion, now silenced by steel cuffs and despair.

I stayed hidden, wings trembling.

They were alive.

I wanted to run to her room and scream it — "They're alive, they're here!" — but that would end everything. Instead, I watched. I listened. I pieced together the cruel design: she was being used as leverage. Her father had fought back once. Now he stayed still, because they threatened his daughter. And she had no idea any of this was happening.

Back in her room, she sat on her cot, staring at the blank wall. Her skin was pale. Her hair had lost its shine. The machines were draining her. Each day she gave them visions of tomorrow, and each day she became a little less herself.

I couldn't stay silent anymore.

That night, while the guards changed shifts, I knelt beside her bed. The glow of the moon cut through the barred window, casting shadows across her face. She looked peaceful. Fragile. Like glass that had already cracked.

I whispered, “Your parents are alive. They’re here.”

She opened her eyes. Slowly. Carefully. No fear, no words — just silence. Then a single tear ran down her cheek. She didn’t ask how I knew. Didn’t ask who I really was. But I felt it — she believed me. Or maybe… she wanted to.

We sat in silence for what felt like hours.

The next day, I avoided the cameras and returned to the underground chamber. I spoke to her father — man to man, no disguises.

He didn’t waste time on introductions. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “You love her.”

I nodded.

“She’s dying in there.”

“I know.”

Then we planned.

It wouldn’t be perfect. We’d make mistakes. We’d bleed. But he would cause a diversion. I would shrink her down, sneak her out through the maintenance pipes, and carry her to safety. No technology. No teleportation. Just raw instinct and a little magic.

I returned to her room that night, no longer just her caretaker.

Now I was her only chance.

writer -: thank you to the reader for a like on first chapter and the one( radin) who requested to update it

Chapter 3: The Plan of Fire and Fear

Time was slipping through my fingers like water. She was weakening fast. The machines draining her mind were becoming more aggressive. Her ability to see the future had gone from a gift to a curse — and soon, it would kill her.

I wasn’t ready.

But her father was. In the dim underground cell, we carved out a plan with whispered words and clenched jaws. Every detail mattered — the timing of the guards, the shifts of the cameras, the pulse of the walls. The fortress was alive. We had to move like ghosts.

Her father would start the fire.

That was the only way. His super strength had been bound by suppressors, but he told me something that gave me chills: pain weakens the cuffs. If he tore open old wounds, the cuffs would flicker. Just for a moment. Just enough.

He would bleed for his daughter.

Meanwhile, I prepared her. Each night, I trained her how to shrink on command with my help — it was risky, but her trust in me grew with every passing hour. She never said “I love you,” but she didn’t need to. The way she looked at me now — like I was her only light — was enough.

The day came.

At exactly 3:33 AM, the fortress shook with the sound of alarms. Flames exploded from the underground level. I felt it in my chest. Her father had done it. The cuffs had failed — even if only for seconds — and he used that time to rip through steel and chaos.

I took her hand.

We shrank down and slid through the bathroom drain, our bodies slipping into the maze of pipes. It stank of chemicals and metal, but it didn’t matter. We were getting out. My heart pounded in my ears as we twisted through the narrow corridors of the fortress, my instincts leading the way.

But we weren’t fast enough.

By the time we reached the lower exit, the guards were waiting. Someone had tipped them off. Maybe a camera caught us. Maybe fate just wasn’t on our side.

They dragged me out of the pipe, beating me with electric rods. I saw her scream, but I couldn’t hear her. My ears were ringing. My vision faded in and out. Then—

Her father.

A wall crumbled, and there he was — bloodied, burnt, half-dead, but still moving. Still fighting. He roared like a beast, tossing guards aside like they were paper. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t listen.

Then, he did the unthinkable.

With his last breath, he lifted her — unconscious, fragile — and threw her into the sky with all his might.

I transformed mid-air, feathers ripping through skin, bones reshaping into wings.

As a vulture, I caught her in the wind. I flew with everything I had, every fiber of my soul screaming for survival. She was still breathing. Her father's body lay still below. But his fight lived on in us.

We were free.

For now

Writer - thank you for reading and also thank you 'Lourdes zabala' for showing support.

BTW 😅 I HAVE ONLY WRITTEN 5 CHAPTERS