บททั้งหมดของ COLD STEEL, BLEEDING HEARTS : บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

The steel door hit the floor with a violent hiss, melting into a puddle of golden liquid that glowed, dim and angry, on the concrete. Maya didn’t move. She just stood there, frozen. Silver blood ran down her hand. She pressed it hard to her chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but it just kept coming. The people from the Chorus stayed on their knees—hundreds of them, packed into the dark parking garage. Their golden eyes caught the strange light off the molten metal, making the whole place feel unreal.“Maya, get back!” Julian shouted. He jumped in front of her, swinging his iron pipe through the air. His hands clenched so tight his knuckles went white. He was breathing hard, wild and ragged. “If any of you touch her, I’ll—”“Julian, stop.” Maya’s voice came out soft and steady, even though her heart was going crazy inside her chest. “They’re not going to hurt me. Just look at them.”The Chorus didn’t even glance at Julian. Their eyes were fixed on a spot just above Maya’s head. They d

The subway tunnel didn’t just shake—it groaned, deep and awful, like the earth was getting squeezed by some invisible giant. Dust drifted down in heavy gray flakes, settling on Maya’s hair. She didn’t even flinch. All her focus was on Julian, on the bloody mess of his shoulder. Her hands, once so steady she could cut someone open and stitch them back together, now trembled so much she could barely rip the bandages apart.“Julian, look at me!” Her voice came out sharp, loud, the same tone she used in the ER when things got bad. “Don’t close your eyes. I mean it. That’s an order!”Julian tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough. He was so pale he almost blended into the dust. “Since when… do I take orders… from you?”“Since I became the woman who broke a God,” Maya shot back. Her eyes stung with tears, but she pressed a wad of gauze hard against his shoulder, not giving herself time to cry.The Judge was curled up beside them, shivering. Just minutes ago, he’d been a monster—a mirror

The man in the gray suit didn’t move like any soldier Julian had ever seen. He glided forward, more shadow than person, silent and fast. Before Julian could even get a word out, the man lunged. Sunlight hit the silver needle in his hand—a quick, lethal flash.“Maya, behind me!” Julian shouted, throwing his arm in front of her.But Maya’s eyes had changed. She didn’t see a man. She saw sparks firing in his brain, muscles winding up in his legs, the cold calculation in his heart. Everything slowed way down. The man came at her like he was moving through syrup.Maya lifted her hand. She didn’t punch. She just touched the air in front of his chest.Suddenly, black and white energy cracked out from her fingers. The man shot backwards, twenty feet easy, skidding across the road until he slammed into a parked car. The silver needle flew from his hand, shattering on the ground.“I told you,” Maya said, her voice strange—like two voices tangled together. “I’m not the girl you’re looking for.”

The air around the giant silver tree felt too still. It was the kind of eerie quiet you get right before lightning crashes down. Julian didn’t move. His hand stayed pressed against the tree’s warm bark—it almost felt like skin. He kept his eyes on the small red door. The door looked like it belonged in any regular house, but this one was growing right out of a tree that seemed to stretch for miles.A thin hand reached out from behind the door. Long fingers, skin marked with dark ink that would never wash off. It wasn’t a monster’s hand. It looked like the hand of a man who writes books.“Julian… help me,” someone whispered from inside the tree.Julian’s heart skipped. He knew that voice. It wasn’t Maya’s big, powerful Goddess voice. It was human—and he hadn’t heard it in a long, long time. He grabbed the handle of the red door and yanked it open.The door swung without a sound. Quiet, easy.A man tumbled out onto the grass. He wore an old lab coat stained with coffee. His white hair w

The silver hand broke through the stone like it was nothing, but it didn’t move the way a normal hand does. It slid forward, smooth and silent, as if it were liquid metal, not flesh. The moment it touched the subway air, the whole tunnel warmed up. Something sweet drifted through the darkness. Julian stood frozen, Maya still limp in his arms. He stared at that small, glowing hand, then back at Maya’s face, searching for a sign she understood.“Maya, please,” he whispered, voice ragged with fear. “You have to remember. The baby... it’s back.”Maya’s eyes went wide—innocent, almost blank. The silver hand didn’t scare her. She looked at it like it was just a strange, beautiful lamp. Curiosity flickered behind all that confusion—her old doctor’s instinct alive in her even now. She reached out with a trembling finger.“It’s... lonely,” she said, her voice barely there. “I can feel it. It’s looking for its mother.”“You are its mother, Maya!” Julian choked out. He yanked her away just as th