Chapter 5 - Flashes of Memory  

Stop! Bastian Stop!"

The shout tore through the air as Bastian launched himself off the rooftop, pure instinct driving him. No wings. No hesitation. Just the overwhelming need to reach something—someone—that wasn't there.

"No!" Billy's voice was razor-sharp with panic.

Trixie reacted in a blink, her wings snapping open with a forceful whoosh as she and Billy dove like twin comets, their speed blurring against the skyline. The wind howled past Bastian's ears, but he barely registered it. His eyes were locked on the empty space below him, his heart hammering in his chest like a war drum. He was reaching for a ghost.

He didn't even realize how fast the pavement was approaching.

A second before impact, Billy and Trixie slammed into him from either side, jerking him mid-air with bone-rattling force. The world spun as they shot back up toward the rooftop, dragging a thrashing Bastian between them. As they returned, his body fought on instinct, shoving, twisting, desperate to break free.

"Let go of me!" he roared, his breath ragged. "I have to save her!"

Billy barely managed to hold on, his grip tightening like a vice. "Who?!" he demanded.

Bastian struggled harder, his mind a hurricane of flashing images. A girl. A ledge. Laughter. A kiss. A fall. Anastasia. His chest squeezed, air rushing from his lungs.

"I saw her fall," he gasped, his voice nearly breaking. "She—she fell. I have to catch her."

Trixie and Billy exchanged quick, sharp looks. Phillip, Hugh, and Jacob had just landed back on the roof, watching the scene unfold in stunned silence.

Billy steadied himself, his voice firm but careful. "Bastian, listen to me. No one fell."

Bastian's eyes darted around wildly, scanning the ledge, the building, the city below. His head pounded like someone was drilling into his skull. But the image was still there, burnt into his mind like an old scar. Anastasia. Her wide, terrified eyes. The wind whipping her hair. The sickening drop.

"I saw it," he whispered, barely able to stand under the weight of the memory. "I felt it."

Phillip stepped forward, his expression unusually serious. "You remember something."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Bastian staggered, gripping his head. "I don't know—I can't—" His breathing was coming too fast, too shallow.

Trixie placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Okay, okay, breathe. You're safe. You're here."

Safe. That word felt so foreign.

He wrenched himself free, pacing like a caged animal, his hands in his hair. "No, I don't understand! It was real. I know it was real!"

Billy watched him carefully. Then, as if piecing a puzzle together, he turned to the others. "Anastasia."

Understanding flickered across their faces. They were curious about what Anastasia found so special about the Drake Hotel and Matt gave them all the details. Phillip whistled low. "That's where she—"

"Shut up," Hugh warned, but it was too late.

Bastian's head snapped up. His pulse roared in his ears. "That's where what?"

Silence.

Trixie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Okay, so this might be a tiny bit of a bombshell, but—"

Billy cut her off. "Anastasia fell from this rooftop once - she almost ended her own life."

Bastian's breath stopped.

Billy's expression was unreadable. "And you saved her."

The memory slammed into Bastian like a freight train. The half empty whiskey bottle. The ledge. Anastasia in a dazed state as she fell over the edge. The finality in her voice as she called his name. The way his body had moved on instinct, wings bursting from his back as he caught her inches before impact. The weight of her in his arms. The way she had clung to him.

A sharp gasp left his lips. His knees buckled. Trixie barely caught him before he hit the ground.

Phillip exhaled. "Well. That escalated quickly."

Jacob elbowed him. "Dude, not the time."

Billy crouched beside Bastian, his voice softer now. "It's coming back, isn't it?"

Bastian swallowed hard, nodding slightly. He was still shaking, his hands clenched into fists. "I caught her," he murmured, voice hoarse. "She would've died."

Billy nodded. "Yeah. She would've."

The rooftop was silent, except for the faint hum of the city below.

Then Bastian inhaled sharply, as if reality had just sunk its claws into him. His head snapped up, eyes burning with something fierce. "I need to see her."

Billy's expression darkened. "Bastian—"

"No." He stood, more sure of himself now. "I need to see her. Now."

Trixie crossed her arms. "And what are you planning to say? 'Hey Ana? Turns out I did save your life before I lost my memory. Crazy, right?'"

Bastian ignored her. His mind was set. The confusion, the frustration, the ache of something missing—it was all pointing to one thing.

Anastasia.

Without another word, he turned to the ledge again, this time spreading his wings. Billy sighed but didn't stop him.

Phillip snorted. "Well, this is either gonna be heartwarming or an absolute disaster."

Hugh shrugged. "Either way, I'm not missing it."

And with a powerful push, Bastian took off, slicing through the air like a bullet, heading straight for the one person who held all the missing pieces.