The fall of the dawn tower

As the sewer gate closed over their heads, momentarily burying the screams and chaos outside, several miles to the north, in the city's broken sky, the Dawn Spire began to bleed light.

The tower still stood, twisted but imposing, like a wounded giant that refused to fall. A thousand meters of glass, steel and human dreams supported by solar panels and floating gardens that trembled with every roar of hell unleashed on the city.

At its peak, where scientists once traced routes to the stars, the glass was beginning to crack. The air smelled of ozone and ash. Alarms wailed in all directions, intersecting with the screams of those still struggling to live.

Dr. Elias Vorn, Korrin's father, ran panting down the central corridor. Under his arm he carried a data disk with the plans for a ship, humanity's last hope of escape. Taped to his uniform, a photograph of Korrin trembled on his chest with each stride.

"Lock the gates!" he shouted, his voice firmer than his hands. "If those blueprints fall into their clutches...!"

A crash cut his sentence short. Part of the ceiling collapsed like a makeshift trap, crushing a group of fleeing technicians. Through the newly opened hole descended a creature: a monster with translucent tentacles, liquid skin that glowed like mercury, and multiple eyes that spun like gears. Each was hexagonal in shape, as if they were fragments of a non-terrestrial intelligence.

The guards fired. The projectiles melted in the air as if they were shooting at a memory.

Elias recoiled, slipping in blood. The disk rolled away from him, emitting a faint blue pulse. The creature followed, momentarily ignoring the man. Elias took advantage of the second to crawl toward a nearby elevator. He pressed the lock button as the creature's claws clawed at the metal frame.

"Get in! Get in! Please, get in...!"

The door closed with a creak, and the elevator ascended.

But not enough. 

On the 342nd floor, another beast awaited him: smaller, hunched over, with retractable needle jaws and a skin that vibrated with every step. Elias barely had time to scream before he bolted for the tower's observation deck. There, he paused for a moment. The city was ablaze. Skyscrapers curved toward the ground as if praying for mercy. Among them, the glowing silhouette of a ship rested on its platform.

He pulled out his communicator with trembling hands.

"Vayne... si esto te llega... el código de despegue es..."

Elias' voice cracked just as the tentacle lifted him by the waist, as if he were a rag doll. The communicator fell into the void, bouncing through the lower levels until it was lost in the darkness.

The creature lifted him into its mouth, a wheel of endless teeth turning like hungry gears. But time seemed to slow down for Elijah. He no longer felt the pain. Only the memory.

A small laugh.

The sound of bare feet running through the laboratory.

"Dad, why don't the stars fall out of the sky?" asked Korrin, holding a paper flower in his hand.

"Because even the universe needs anchors, little one.... And you're mine," he had replied, stroking her hair.
The image was superimposed on the face of the monster that would devour him. Elias blinked, swallowing his fear. He reached to his belt and pulled out a small cylinder: the thermal detonator. His fingers trembled, not for the creature, but for what he was leaving behind.
"Forgive me, Korrin... you still haven't learned to fly..."

Then he pressed the button.

"But I swear... I left you the wings."

The explosion was brutal. The last five floors of the Spire of Dawn were engulfed by a whirlwind of fire and light. The glass dome exploded outward, raining shards down on the urban inferno, as if heaven had finally caved in.
On one of the lower levels, covered with debris, the data disk was still glowing. Blue. Steady. Waiting.

In another part of the city, underground...

The sewers vibrated with each detonation. The heat from outside still seeped through the cracks like an evil breath, as if the world itself was burning up there.

Korrin walked in the shadows, his clothes in tatters, still shaking off the sight of his transformed arm. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding as if it wanted to flee from his chest... and suddenly, it stopped.

A sharp, invisible pain shot through the center of his chest. It was not physical, it did not come from the body... it was something else. Something that chilled her blood and made her fall to her knees for an instant, gasping. It was not the echo of a distant explosion, but a sudden and absolute silence inside her, as if a vital thread that bound her to something or someone had been severed. The crystal medallion, which had remained dull and cold against her skin, emanated a single, final flash, a heartbeat of agonizing blue light that illuminated her pale face in the darkness of the tunnel, before fading out completely