Chapter 5 – A New Warrior Unleashed

Anastasia lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Every part of her felt different, like her body had been rebuilt, stronger, sharper, something more than it ever was before. But her mind? Her mind was where the biggest shift had happened. She wasn't the girl who fell into the water anymore, the one who panicked at the thought of danger or hesitated in the face of fear. Fear didn't even register now. Panic was a distant memory. And pain? What was pain, anyway?

She felt nothing except cold determination.

Days had passed since Dylan left her in this strange room. No windows. No way out. The walls were bare and cold. She tried pounding on them at first, hoping someone would hear her, but quickly realized it was useless. She wasn't going to wait around, feeling helpless, hoping for rescue.

No. She was going to be the rescue.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she closed her eyes, sinking deep into her own mind. She focused, like she'd done in those meditation sessions with Rose in the dojo, but this wasn't about finding calm. It was about finding control. Anastasia knew, deep down, that there was something inside her, something powerful. The old Anastasia would've shied away from it, scared of what she might unleash. But this version of her? She embraced it.

Her breathing slowed as she reached into the darkness of her mind, the place where that energy buzzed, waiting to be called upon. She didn't know what it was at first, but the more she focused, the more she felt it come alive.

A twitch of her fingers—and the chair across the room slid an inch.

She smirked, opening her eyes, her focus sharp. Telekinesis? Of course, why not? It felt right, like it was always there, just waiting to be discovered. She raised her hand, palm up, and the chair rose into the air, hovering in place. She moved her fingers, and the chair spun slowly, suspended by her will alone.

This was just the beginning.

She set the chair down, standing up and pacing the room. Her senses felt heightened, like every sound was amplified. She stilled herself, closing her eyes again and focusing on the door. Voices—muffled, but there. She sharpened her focus, tuning in.

"She's still in there?" a gruff voice asked from outside.

"Yeah, but Dylan doesn't want us going near her yet. Says she's not ready."

Ready for what? Anastasia clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. She didn't have time to be anyone's prisoner, or play by their rules. She wasn't waiting for Dylan's twisted game.

Her focus sharpened again. Not only was her mind stronger, but her body was as well. She could feel the changes happening. Her muscles were leaner, more defined, her reflexes quicker. It wasn't just physical, either. Her thoughts were clearer, more logical. She was planning, strategizing, thinking like a general on a battlefield. Emotions weren't clouding her decisions anymore. The only thing that mattered was getting back to her family. To Bastian.

Bastian. The thought of him made her heart ache, just for a moment. He probably thought she was dead. They all did. But she was going to get back to them. She would protect them, no matter the cost.

She moved to the wall, placing her hands against it, testing its strength. She couldn't break through it. Yet. But that wasn't going to stop her. She'd find another way out.

Anastasia was no longer scared of what was happening to her. She was changing—becoming something else. Something powerful. She couldn't afford to be soft anymore, couldn't afford to hesitate. The old her was gone, and she didn't miss it.

Curiosity tugged at her, a sensation she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a while. She started scaling the walls, her fingers gripping the cold stone as if it was instinct. Climbing felt easy, her muscles reacting faster than she anticipated. But just as she reached near the top, her fingers slipped.

Anastasia tumbled backward, her body twisting in the air as she braced for impact. The old her would've panicked, expected to crash to the ground with a painful thud. But as she fell, something stirred behind her, a familiar sensation she couldn't quite place.

Just before her shoulders were about to collide with the ground, a rush of air swept under her. She hovered inches from the floor, her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she lowered herself down, her body floating until her feet touched the ground again.

Wings.

Anastasia whipped around, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw them—her wings. She stretched them out, pale and shimmering, catching the dim light of the room. They were hers. A part of her.

"Half-angel," she whispered, her voice shaking with realization. "I'm half-angel."

Her mother's words echoed in her head. She had died in the cold waters, but now she was something new. Something... unstoppable. Anastasia flexed her wings, feeling their strength, their power. They were part of her, like her strength, her agility, her mind.

Her hands clenched into fists. Whatever Dylan had planned for her, it didn't matter now. She wasn't just a girl stuck in a room anymore. She was a force. A weapon.

And no one, not even him, was going to stand in her way.

Anastasia stood tall, her wings spreading wide as she gazed at the locked door, a slow smile spreading across her face.

It was time to break free.