Eighty-Two

My breaths came in short, ragged gasps as I struggled to stay conscious. The chaos of the grand hall was a distant roar, the screams and shouts blurring into a single, indistinguishable noise. Tony's face loomed over me, his eyes wide with concern and determination.

"Stay with me, Atlas," Tony repeated, his voice firm yet gentle. "The ambulance is on its way."

I nodded weakly, unable to form coherent words. The pain in my chest was overwhelming, a relentless agony that threatened to pull me under. I forced myself to focus on Tony's voice, using it as an anchor to keep myself grounded in the present.

As we moved through the frenzied crowd, I caught glimpses of the mayhem that had erupted. Guests were crouched behind tables, some crying, others frantically trying to find their loved ones. The elegant decor of the hall was marred by overturned chairs and shattered glass.

Tony and the security team managed to navigate us to a side exit, where the cool night air hit me like a wave. It was a