from the shadow to the grave

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4

Kael woke to the sharp sting of smoke still clinging to his nostrils. His lungs burned as he coughed, the memory of fire seared into his chest. The last thing he remembered was reaching for a hand in the fire and the blackout.

Now, he blinked and found himself lying on the cracked tiles of the same abandoned house but this time, with no fire. The flames was gone but it left its mark behind on other parts of the house.

Above him stood a figure, panting heavily, hands stained with soot.

“Lyra?” Kael croaked, his throat still raw. He didn't think he was seeing clearly but something told him he wasn't wrong.

The older man chuckled breathlessly, brushing ash from his beard. “You didn't think you were dead, did you?”

Kael pushed himself up, dizzy from exhaustion. “But…how? I thought…” He paused trying to circle back his final moments in the fire.

“I thought you were gone too,” Lyra cut in, lowering himself to the floor with a grunt. His face looked paler than before, his eyes sunken.

“Truth is, I didn't even know it was you. Infact I didn't think there was anyone here but a little girl kept screaming that she saw someone run in so I figured I'd just help, if I could.” He revealed.

“Just turned out to be you.” He added with a chuckle.

Kael’s heart slammed in his chest. “A girl saw me?” His mind went straight to the news on the TV, the little girl pointing at him at the market. His entire body tensed up immediately.

“Relax,” Lyra waved a dismissive hand.

“I don't think she was here to caught here. Just a strange, homeless kid hanging out. Plus, I made sure nobody was hanging around.”

But Kael wasn’t convinced. He sat in silence, struggling to calm his racing breath. Every shadow felt like an enemy waiting to drag him back to his uncle.

Lyra leaned back against a broken wall, coughing quietly into his fist. The sound lingered longer than it should have, and when he finally pulled his hand away, Kael noticed a smear of blood. Lyra caught him staring and shrugged.

“Brain tumor,” he reminded him.

“Looks like I'm going to be dying faster than I expected.”

Kael lowered his gaze, the pity he’d felt in the dungeon returning stronger than before. Lyra had saved his life twice now, once with the hidden passage, and now from fire. And yet, the man looked closer to his grave every single time.

“I should thank you,” Kael said softly. “But I don’t understand… why me?”

Lyra let out a wheezy laugh. “Because you’re still worth saving, kid. Me? My clock’s ticking. You? You’ve still got a chance to do something bigger than dying in your uncle’s dungeon.”

The words hung heavy between them.

Kael thought of Magnus 2.0, his robot, his creation, his passion for artistic engineering. His nights of secret work, the dream of surprising his uncle with something new.

And then Leon’s smirk, the video, the lies, the victorious look in his aunt's eyes. His chest tightened with helpless rage.

He remembered the very first night he soldered Magnus 2.0’s frame together, humming to himself as sparks lit his office. His hands had almost went limp, his eyes stung from staring too long at codes.

He had imagined walking into his uncle’s office, handing the robot over and be applauded with a warm smile and a fatherly hug.

But that dream had been ripped away in seconds by his own cousin. The same person they grew up together as kids.

Lyra’s eyes glinted as if reading his thoughts. “That thing you built… they’re launching it tomorrow.”

Kael froze. “What?”

“I heard it from a guard before I slipped out,” Lyra explained. “Your uncle is hosting a private launch for investors. Leon’s standing at the center of it all, taking the praise for it.” His lips twisted bitterly.

“Your uncle is selling your work out for profit while painting you as a thief.”

Kael’s fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. He could imagine the scene…Leon on stage beside his father, smiling as though he did the work.

“No…” Kael's voice shook. “That robot was mine. Mine.”

“Then take it back,” Lyra said simply.

Kael blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Lyra’s voice hardened.

“Go to the launch. See with your own eyes what they’ve done. Don’t hide in these ruins while they bury your name. Slip in under disguise, sneak out before anyone notices. It’s the only way you’ll get close enough to the truth.”

Kael’s stomach twisted. “Hell no. My face is out there on the TV with twenty thousand dollars as bounty. I'm not letting them get me. That's just insane.”

Lyra tilted his head, watching him carefully.

“And hiding here isn’t? You think the posters will disappear tomorrow? You think Magnus will just forget?” He leaned forward, his eyes sharp despite the weakness in his frame. “They want you slap erased. They're not going to stop until you're gone.”

Kael shook his head violently. “No. No, I can’t. I barely survived the dungeon. I barely survived out here. I can't do it…”

Lyra sighed, as if he’d expected the protest.

“I’m not asking you to get on stage and rip Leon's mask or slap your uncle. I'm just asking you to know. If you walk away now, you’ll never know what they made of Magnus 2.0. And you’ll never forgive yourself for it.”

Kael wanted to argue, but the words dug deep. It stung him at his core.

And he remembered Leon’s laughter in the boardroom, the way his uncle’s slap had stung more than the pain in his cheek. The betrayal replayed in his head until his chest ached.

“I don’t want to die,” he whispered.

“Then don’t,” Lyra said. “Don’t get caught. You’ve got the brains to slip through cracks no one else sees. Use them. All you need is a disguise, a plan, and the guts to keep your head low.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Kael’s breath came shallow and quick. His hands trembled as he thought of stepping back into that company, the very place that had branded him a thief.

Lyra’s voice softened. “Look, Kael. I can’t walk into that place. My face is too well known. But you? You’re nothing but a ghost on posters and TV for now. Your uncle has shielded you from the outside world so much that no one will recognize you with a disguise on.”

Kael looked at him sharply. “And what if I get caught?”

Lyra grinned weakly. “First, if you stick with the plan, they won't catch you. But if you slip and get caught, you might regret it for a while but what's the satisfaction in letting someone else take all the glory for someone you worked hard to build.”

His face shone brightly under the moonlight as he continued, “But if you don’t go? You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering if your robot is out there with your name buried under Leon’s lie and living as his legacy, instead of yours.”

Kael pressed his palms to his face. Every instinct screamed to run far away, start a new life, forget all of it. But something deeper fought in his heart, the same passion that helped him work tirelessly to build Magnus 2.0.

He couldn’t let Leon steal his shine.

When he finally lowered his hands, Lyra was watching him with a knowing look.

“You’ll go,” Lyra said quietly.

“There's no use denying it, I can see the passion in your eyes.” He added.

Kael swallowed hard. “I’ll go.”

Lyra clapped his shoulder, though his hand trembled with weakness. “That’s the spirit. Tomorrow, you'll take your chances with them.”

For the first time in days, Kael felt something other than despair. He felt a spark, something mall, but real.

But beyond his spark, his heart burned furiously with hate. Hate for Leon, who had twisted his dream into a weapon. Hate for uncle who should have been his supporter, hate for the preying look in his aunt's eyes on the day she cast him out.

The hate burned hotter than the dungeon’s stench, hotter than the fire’s smoke but at the end of the day, he was still at the bottom of the chain.

Still, unease churned inside him. If the posters were everywhere, if half of the city already knew his face, how could he possibly walk into a launch filled with heavily armed guards and investors?

What if one of the security guards recognized him?

Lyra leaned back, closing his eyes as if already exhausted by the weight of the conversation. “Get some rest, kid. Tomorrow is about to be a long day for you.”

Kael lay back on the scorched floor, staring up at the cracked ceiling, the sounds of the city buzzing faintly outside. Sleep didn’t come easily. His mind kept replaying the fire, the posters, his uncle’s furious eyes.

And through it all, the thought of Leon’s smirk haunted him like a ghost.

Would he really try his cousin take the all the glory of his hard work?

He clenched his necklace tightly, whispering into the dark. “I won’t let him win.”

But just as he started to drift into uneasy sleep, a sound outside snapped his eyes open.

Heavy boots. Multiple. Marching in sync.

A voice barked orders: “Search every building. He’s here.

Kael's blood ran cold.