They moved through gridlocked traffic, jogging on foot, scanning for anything out of place and out of order. Specifically, a white van that didn’t belong. Evelyn had managed to wing them this one target, while the SCRA would handle the rest. Terminal had pinpointed several.


    In all honesty, Juniper thought it was reckless, but Annemarie just had to tie her life to the issue. She wanted a long talk with her after this.


    The air was suffocating car exhaust fumes and the humming of impatient commuters. Anne took point, peering into windshields, scrutinizing every driver who was parked with an intense glare.


    Traffic had come to a halt. They pushed forward, the Orchestra of honks and shouting dying down as they patrolled the lineup


    Then,  she saw it.


    Odd.


    Out of place.


    A black van, Just idling ahead


    <b>Then, she saw it.</b>


    <b>An opaque black van, idling just ahead. It didn’t match the white ones they’d found in the evidence lockup, but something was wrong—its engine was running, poised to flee.</b>


    <b>Her breath hitched.</b>


    <b>“Terminal, are you seeing this?” Her voice was low, measured.</b>


    <b>“Affirmative, Juniper,” came the reply, curt and clipped. “I’d advise against approaching too closely.”</b>


    <b>Juniper stepped forward anyway, pulse hammering against her ribs. The windows were tinted, opaque like dead eyes. Terminal’s drone buzzed overhead, a cold mechanical witness.</b>


    <b>Then—</b>


    <b>BANG.</b>


    <b>A bullet cracked past her face, close enough to feel the air shift. Glass shattered. The sharp sting of shrapnel kissed her cheek.</b>


    <b>She hit the ground on instinct.</b>


    <b>The van roared forward, tires screaming, plowing past the red light. A spray of bullets erupted, ricocheting off cars, slamming into the pavement, sending pedestrians screaming. Metal groaned as windows shattered, alarms howling in the chaos.</b>


    <b>A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her up. Annemarie.</b>


    <b>“Move!”</b>


    <b>No hesitation. They ran.</b>


    <b>“Stay cautious,” Terminal warned through the comm. His drone kept pace, blinking a cold, unfeeling blue.</b>


    <b>Juniper tapped into her Solar powers. Weak. Distant. The moon was obscured tonight, strangling her energy. But she had enough.</b>


    <b>Gunfire raked the air, tearing into nearby vehicles, civilians ducking and scrambling for cover.</b>


    <b>She gritted her teeth. Not enough time to think. Only to act.</b>


    <b>She burst forward, body blurring, gravity slipping from her grasp as she hovered above the fleeing van. A trick she hadn’t tried before—</b>


    <b>She tapped into both [Solar-Powered Sentinel] and [Iron Drive].</b>


    <b>Light. Density. Strength.</b>


    <b>A translucent shield of molten glow flickered into existence around her. Her skin thrummed with power, but the second the bullets struck—</b>


    <b>It burned.</b>


    <b>Like white-hot metal searing into her flesh, the impact of each shot sent deep, gnawing pain through her muscles. The shield held, barely. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, her vision narrowing.</b>


    <b>Annemarie moved, twisting the air around them. Gravity warped. The bullets bent mid-flight, curving away, sparing Juniper from taking the full brunt.</b>


    <b>Juniper exhaled sharply, forcing her body into motion.</b>


    <b>She dropped to the back of the van, fingers tightening into fists. She reeled back and drove her knuckles into the metal. A sickening crunch. The door caved slightly under the blow.</b>


    <b>Again.</b>


    <b>Again.</b>


    <b>The van swerved, desperate to shake her off.</b>


    <b>She wasn’t letting go.</b>


    <b>The van doors slammed open—a masked man crouched inside, rifle braced against his shoulder. Not just any rifle.</b>


    <b>Her stomach lurched.</b>


    <b>Sniper.</b>


    <b>The barrel locked onto her and lined up with her chest.</b>


    <b>[Juniper, that’s not a normal gun! MOVE!]</b>


    <b>The shot cracked like the breaking of bones.</b>


    <b>Instinct roared to life. She amped up, hard, muscles swelling with unnecessary force—too much, too fast. The bullet slammed into her thigh.</b>


    <b>A scream wrenched from her throat.</b>


    <b>Her leg gave out. The world tilted. She hit the pavement with a jolt, pain tearing through her in waves—hot, drowning, all-consuming. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the concrete beneath her.</b>


    <b>“Oh—fuck—”</b>


    <b>She tried to stand. Her thigh locked up—a deep, seizing burn spreading through the muscle. Blood ran thick, pooling in her boot, darkening the fabric. Too much. Too fast.</b>


    <b>Annemarie skidded to a stop beside her, eyes darting between Juniper and the escaping van.</b>


    <b>Juniper shoved her away. “Go!”</b>


    <b>Annemarie hesitated.</b>


    <b>Go. Just go. You’ll be fine. You’re better at this.</b>


    <b>Annemarie ran.</b>This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    <b>Juniper’s vision swam.</b>


    <b>[Juniper, it’s not that deep. Pull it out, bind it, and move.]</b>


    <b>She swayed on her feet. Where the fuck was she supposed to find something to bind it with?</b>


    <b>A furniture store loomed ahead. She pushed off the ground, floating toward it, leg throbbing with every beat of her heart. The wind dragged against her skin. Her breathing was ragged and uneven.</b>


    <b>She crashed through the doors.</b>


    <b>People froze. A mother shoved her child behind her back. A man by the counter backed away.</b>


    <b>Her reflection caught in a glass display—all black, floating, eyes glowing, blood dripping down her leg.</b>


    <b>She looked like a villain.</b>


    <b>“I need bandages,” she rasped. “Cloth—anything.”</b>


    <b>No one moved.</b>


    <b>She could take it. She could force them.</b>


    <b>She clenched her jaw.</b>


    <b>“Please,” she forced out. “I’m not a villain.”</b>


    <b>A man bolted into the back room. When he returned, he tossed a medical kit across the counter like he was throwing food at a stray dog.</b>


    <b>She caught it.</b>


    <b>[DO IT. RIGHT. NOW.]</b>


    <b>She clenched her glove between her teeth and ripped it off. Her fingers dug into the wound, prying the bullet free. Agony. A white-hot spike tunneled straight through her skull. The bullet came loose with a sickening squelch.</b>


    <b>Her leg convulsed. Sweat blurred her vision.</b>


    <b>She wrapped the wound tight. Too tight. Didn’t matter. Blood soaked through, but she kept binding. Kept moving.</b>


    <b>She looked at the man. “Thank you.”</b>


    <b>Something clicked.</b>


    <b>Urgency. Adrenaline. Survival.</b>


    <b>[Durability +2.]</b>


    <b>She turned, bursting into the street.</b>


    <b>A civilian stumbled into her path. She swerved at the last second, but he fell, hitting the pavement hard.</b>


    <b>She didn’t stop.</b>


    <b>Her body screamed. Heat burned beneath her skin. The power wasn’t meant to mix. She felt like she was tearing apart at the seams.</b>


    <b>Breaking down on a molecular level.</b>


    <b>[You are not okay, Juniper. But you can keep moving.]</b>


    <b>So she did.</b>


    <b>Juniper flew, half-limp, breath shuddering as she watched Annemarie deflect bullet after bullet with brutal precision. Every movement was calculated, every block seamless—like she’d done this a hundred times before. The van doors slammed shut again, sealing its occupants inside.</b>


    <b>She had an idea.</b>


    <b>She needed to end this before it spiraled out of control.</b>


    <b>The van swerved sharply, lurching onto a side road, its wheels skidding and wobbling like it was barely holding together.</b>


    <b>Juniper zeroed in.</b>


    <b>A shot of heat lashed from her hand, striking the back tire. It caught fire instantly. The rubber melted away in seconds, twisting into bubbling tar. The van’s frame jerked violently, spinning out of control.</b>


    <b>“Hold the van down!” she shouted.</b>


    <b>Inside, screams.</b>


    <b>Even fanatics had fear, it seemed.</b>


    <b>The van tipped.</b>


    <b>The screech of metal ripped through the street as it flipped—once, twice—before slamming upside down into a building. A shockwave rattled the windows. Flames licked up from the wreckage, smoke curling into the air.</b>


    <b>Then—silence.</b>


    <b>Juniper hovered over the wreckage, her pulse thudding against her ribs.</b>


    <b>Annemarie moved first, stepping forward with caution, shoulders squared.</b>


    <b>A loud crash—the driver’s side door kicked open.</b>


    <b>A man lunged out, fire erupting from his palm.</b>


    <b>Juniper twisted away as the flames barely missed her, but something shifted. The air warped, distorted—a pressure so sudden and dense that her knees buckled beneath her. It was like the whole world was grinding to a halt.</b>


    <b>What—?</b>


    <b>Annemarie didn’t stop.</b>


    <b>The second gunman opened fire. The bullets barely made it a few feet before they lost momentum and dropped to the pavement like loose change.</b>


    <b>She turned on them.</b>


    <b>Juniper saw her move, saw her shift with an unnatural steadiness.</b>


    <b>The first gunman barely had time to react before Annemarie’s fist slammed into his face. The crack of bone echoed through the alleyway. He crumpled instantly, mask snapping off as he hit the ground.</b>


    <b>The second one was still firing at her.</b>


    <b>Uselessly.</b>


    <b>She kicked his shin.</b>


    <b>A wet, stomach-churning crunch. His leg folded inward at the wrong angle.</b>


    <b>Juniper felt something deep in her gut coil.</b>


    <b>She hadn’t realized it before. Hadn’t let herself think about it.</b>


    <b>Annemarie wasn’t just efficient.</b>


    <b>She was one step away from killing them.</b>


    <b>A thump from inside the van. The jammed rear doors rattled, something slamming against them.</b>


    <b>Annemarie stilled, her head tilting as she listened.</b>


    <b>Then, with terrifying ease, she punched a hole straight through the van’s side.</b>


    <b>Someone inside screamed.</b>


    <b>The metal bent inward with a sharp groan. A body tumbled backward from the force.</b>


    <b>Juniper moved to stop her—but Annemarie was already tearing the doors open.</b>


    <b>Juniper couldn’t see inside.</b>


    <b>But she could hear him.</b>


    <b>Crying. Begging.</b>


    <b>She swallowed, throat tight.</b>


    <b>This wasn’t a fight anymore.</b>


    <b>It was a massacre.</b>


    <b>A beeping sound.</b>


    <b>Juniper turned toward the front of the van, every nerve on edge.</b>


    <b>Someone was trying to contact the maniacs.</b>


    <b>She approached warily, her breath shallow, fingers twitching as she pressed the confirmation button on the portable comm.</b>


    <b>A voice crackled through. Smooth. Amused.</b>


    <b>“That was fun to watch, I have to admit.”</b>


    <b>Juniper froze.</b>


    <b>A pit opened in her stomach.</b>


    <b>“I’ve… I’ve been watching you two for a while.”</b>


    <b>The voice cackled, but the tone underneath was calm. Measured.</b>


    <b>Juniper’s throat went dry. “Caldera?”</b>


    <b>“Who else?”</b>


    <b>The van’s wreckage flickered with dying flames, but all she could hear was the pounding of her pulse.</b>


    <b>“You two have come the closest. That’s… problematic.”</b>


    <b>Juniper clenched her jaw. She wasn’t afraid.</b>


    <b>She was furious.</b>


    <b>Caldera sighed, almost wistful. “Truth is, I feel like I’m at my wit’s end. They promised me more men. More… obedient soldiers. But I guess they lied.”</b>


    <b>Juniper’s fingers curled into a fist.</b>


    <b>“I did my part.” His voice turned bitter. “I made the best flamethrower this century has seen. I was supposed to have support. They didn’t give me enough.”</b>


    <b>Juniper’s head snapped up. “What the fuck are you even on about, you fucking freak?! You ruined my fucking day!”</b>


    <b>Laughter. Low. Mocking.</b>


    <b>“So selfish. So self-centered. You’re no different—just another cog in the machine.”</b>


    <b>A slow exhale.</b>


    <b>“I’m desperate, Juniper.”</b>


    <b>Her breath hitched.</b>


    <b>Chills.</b>


    <b>Then, in a quiet, deliberate voice—</b>


    <b>“You have two siblings, right?”</b>


    <b>Everything. Stopped.</b>


    <b>Juniper’s vision tunneled.</b>


    <b>Her hand jerked toward her phone. She needed to call them. Now. Needed to—</b>


    <b>“Ah, ah, ah—don’t move.”</b>


    <b>The weight in Caldera’s voice sank hooks into her spine.</b>


    <b>“Your name. Your address. What you wore the day before. The suit you’re wearing now.” A pause. Then, almost gleeful.</b>


    <b>“The birds. They told me.”</b>


    <b>Juniper froze.</b>


    <b>“For a price. Always a price.”</b>


    <b>Her chest tightened.</b>


    <b>“No, don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.” A smirk in his voice. “I just paid a few hundred thousand dollars a few hours ago, and—surprise, surprise—a lovely little SCRA agent folded. Everything has a price, you see. And you, Juniper? You were worth a few hundred thousand dollars.”</b>


    <b>Her stomach dropped.</b>


    <b>Sys-chan: [There’s a high probability he’s lying—]</b>


    <b>But what if he’s not?</b>


    <b>Her body wasn’t listening. Her mind wasn’t listening.</b>


    <b>“District 76.”</b>


    <b>Her heart slammed against her ribs.</b>


    <b>“That’s your neighborhood, right?”</b>


    <b>Juniper’s pulse roared in her ears.</b>


    <b>“I might blow it up if you don’t listen to every word I say.”</b>


    <b>The world blurred.</b>


    <b>She was already on the edge. Already holding herself together by a thread.</b>


    <b>She had to shut this down.</b>


    <b>“Break all contact. Now.”</b>


    <b>Juniper ripped out the earpiece and crushed it in her fist. The plastic cracked, metal snapping like brittle bone. She threw it to the ground and stomped—once, twice, three times—until nothing was left but shards.</b>


    <b>Annemarie appeared—too late.</b>


    <b>She saw what Juniper was doing, her expression darkening.</b>


    <b>“What the fuck are you doing?!”</b>


    <b>Annemarie lunged, grabbing Juniper’s arm, nails digging deep.</b>


    <b>Juniper didn’t stop.</b>


    <b>She kept stomping the remains into dust.</b>


    <b>Annemarie yanked at her.</b>


    <b>Juniper slapped her.</b>


    <b>Not once.</b>


    <b>Not twice.</b>


    <b>Three times.</b>


    <b>Annemarie stumbled back, stunned.</b>


    <b>Juniper’s voice—a low, shaking snarl:</b>


    <b>“My siblings’ lives are at stake. Stand down.”</b>


    <b>Annemarie held her hand over her phone, hesitant.</b>


    <b>Juniper grabbed it.</b>


    <b>Yanked it from her grasp.</b>


    <b>Destroyed it.</b>


    <b>Overhead, a terminal drone caught sight of them.</b>


    <b>Juniper shot a laser straight through it.</b>


    <b>It crashed. Burned.</b>


    <b>Silence.</b>


    <b>Heavy. Suffocating.</b>


    <b>The comms still buzzed.</b>


    <b>Juniper’s voice, cold as death:</b>


    <b>“I’m listening. What else?”</b>


    <b>Caldera smiled through the line. She could hear it.</b>


    <b>“If you want to stop this, meet me on my terms. I failed anyway. Gotta salvage what I can.”</b>


    <b>Her heart pounded. Too fast. Too hard.</b>


    <b>She was going to find him.</b>


    <b>And when she did—</b>


    <b>She was going to kill him.</b>


    <b>[Breathe.]</b>