《Demons of Remfall》


 Machine Rat

    <h2> </h2>


    ¡°God damn it, boy! Can¡¯t you do anything?" the foreman bellowed, his voice ringing across the room. His backhand landed hard, and my cheek stung, the heat spreading as it flushed bright red. Around me, the clatter of tools and voices fell silent.


    I was supposed to fix his gun, but I couldn¡¯t help myself. Out of spite, I made sure it would backfire the next time he fired it. That¡¯s what he gets for being a bastard.


    He raised his hand again, and I shut my eyes, bracing for another blow. But it didn¡¯t come.


    When I opened them, Senna was standing in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking the foreman. He didn¡¯t flinch, even as the foreman towered over him.


    "Out of the way, Senna! Or do you want to take the runt¡¯s place?" the foreman snarled.


    Senna rubbed his face, staring him down. "I¡¯ll take my chances."


    Why is he doing this? I never asked for this.


    Before either of them could take it further, Ev stepped between them. "Hey, mister. What if I fix your gun and repair your old jukebox? Will you let this go?"


    Senna scowled. "What? No! I won¡ª"


    "Shut up," Ev muttered, slapping her hand over his mouth and shoving him back.


    The foreman eyed them both, his lips twisting like he was chewing on the idea. Finally, he scratched at his scraggly beard. "Fine. I want both of them fixed before inspection." Leaning in close, he growled, "Understand?"


    Ev smiled like she hadn¡¯t just defused a fight. "Of course, mister. I¡¯ll do my best."


    The foreman gave us one last look before turning and shoving his way through the workers. "Fucking street rats," he muttered. "All of you, get back to work!"


    I glared after him as the room slowly came back to life, the hum of machines and clatter of tools picking up again.


    Senna turned to me, his face tight with anger. "Do you realize how close you were to being beaten to death?" His voice wavered with concern as he gripped my shoulders and gave me a small shake.


    I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "If it''s today or tomorrow, who cares? No machine rat like us lives that long anyway."


    It was the truth. Kids like us were tools, patching up their poorly designed machines. Cheap, disposable, and small enough to squeeze into the spaces that adults couldn''t. Spaces that claimed too many lives.


    Senna scoffed, shaking his head. "If you really wanted to die, you''d have jumped into the melter. At least that would¡¯ve been quick."


    Before I could respond, he ruffled my hair, and Ev pinched my cheek. "Now I have to work the weekend, brat. You better make it up to me when we get home!"


    "I''m sure he will," Ev chimed in, grinning. "Right, Jack?"


    I squirmed as Senna leaned in, his expression uncomfortably close to smug. It wasn¡¯t my fault the foreman was a jerk. He got exactly what he deserved.


    Senna¡¯s gaze bored into the back of my skull. Goddamnit. "Fine," I muttered. "Just don¡¯t complain if it doesn¡¯t work right."


    Ev¡¯s grease-covered face lit up, and Senna smiled, patting me on the head. "When have you ever accidentally made something faulty?"


    "I¡ªyou never know! There¡¯s always a chance it might, uh, blow up or something. You know."


    "Say, Senna! Whaddya think Jack¡¯s gonna make me this time? A new hat? Ooh, ooh! A necklace?! Wait! Maybe a gramophone!"


    "You¡¯ll find out when you get it! Stop guessing!"


    "Was I close? Wait, which one? Was it the necklace?"


    "No."


    "Hat?"


    "No."


    "Gramophone?"


    "For the last time, no!¡±


    When our shift ended, we all filed into the large train that would take us home. The cargo cars filled up fast, bodies pressing together in the cramped space. The three of us stuck close as the others jostled for room. It was always like this¡ªtight, uncomfortable, suffocating.


    A station guard slammed the door shut, plunging us into darkness.


    The car shuddered as the train lurched forward. I passed the time listening to the rhythmic clunking of the wheels as they rolled over rail joints. The ride to and from the industrial district was always silent, the kind of silence I didn¡¯t mind. It lets me think¡ªor not think.


    After a while, the train began to stop intermittently. We were in the slums now. An hour and a half¡ªalmost the exact same time as always. A few seconds longer, maybe. Most people who lived here dreamed of escaping. But not me. For better or worse, this was home.


    At the final stop, the cargo door screeched open, letting the orange glow of the station lamps spill into the nearly empty car. I squinted at the light, scanning the faces left inside. One¡­ three¡­ five. My stomach twisted as I silently prayed for the ones who didn¡¯t make it back.


    The three of us hopped down onto the crumbling train platform. Cracks lined the seams, and random holes gaped into pure darkness¡ªnew ones appeared almost every week. I grabbed Ev¡¯s hand as we stepped into the worst place in the city.


    This was Purgatory. A place where no one cared about kids like us¡ªor anyone like us. We kept our heads down, moving quickly past shops, brothels, and street peddlers. Attention here wasn¡¯t just bad¡ªit was dangerous. We were offered everything as we walked from opioids to questionable ¡°meat¡± skewers that I wouldn¡¯t touch even on my worst day.


    Eventually, we made the final turn into an alleyway and descended a damp, shadowy set of stairs. The air grew colder with each step, and a faint sound of dripping water echoed around us. The stairs spilled onto a winding street¡ªa tangled maze that could confuse anyone who didn''t belong here.


    I gazed upon the towering structures clinging to the massive stalagmites that hung from the cavern ceiling. These were the homes of the so-called powerful of this shitty place. This was the real Purgatory, the facade upstairs was just the welcome mat.


    Purgatory was built in the ruins of an abandoned mine, it seemed like the rich folk of Remfall had forgotten it ever existed. And maybe they had. Here, murderous thieves and cutthroats lingered around every corner, their eyes always watching.


    And yet, somehow this was home.


    We moved quickly through the narrow streets, dodging drunks and addicts slumped against the grimy walls. The air reeked of sweat, alcohol, and the faint metallic tang of freshly spilled blood. Finally, we stopped at an inconspicuous crack in the ground near the edge of the city. Senna glanced around, his sharp eyes scanning for anyone watching, then motioned for us to go inside.


    I crawled through the narrow opening, the suffocating darkness giving way to a dimly lit room. It was larger than you¡¯d expect, our little hideout. Carved out of the rock and patched together with whatever scraps we could find, frayed wires dangled from the only light source hanging in the center of the room. The floor was a patchwork of rugs and old blankets, their edges fraying but still doing their job of keeping the cold rock warm. Along one side of the room, a collection of mismatched crates of scavenged furniture. A rusted metal barrel in the corner doubled as a makeshift stove


    Mae was curled up on the rug, fast asleep. She had just turned 6¡ªor at least we thought so. Her tiny chest rose and fell with steady breaths. She looked so peaceful, so¡­.vulnerable.


    ¡°MAE, WAKE UP! MAE, WAKE UP! MAE, WAKE UP!¡±


    Her emerald green eyes snapped open, darting around in panic. ¡°W-W-What?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Just letting you know we¡¯re back.¡±


    She blinked, then grabbed her teddy bear and chucked it at my head. It hit dead-on, making me stumble. I wasn¡¯t strong, not even close to average. Just a scrawny, fragile kid who looked like he might keel over at any second.


    Mae hummed, looking smug as she leaned back. ¡°Gotcha again!¡±


    I rubbed my face, glaring at her as my annoyance simmered. ¡°Just you wait, you¡¯ll be just like me next year.¡±


    Her smile faltered, the shift in her expression so sudden it almost caught me off guard. She grew quiet, her long black hair falling across her face like a veil, hiding the look in her eyes.


    Senna picked up her bear. ¡°Time for bed. Come along.¡± His voice was soft but firm as he led Mae into our makeshift bedroom. I watched them disappear into the shadows, my stomach tightening. No dinner tonight, huh? I sighed. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time, and it sure as hell wouldn¡¯t be the last.


    Ev¡¯s eager eyes followed me as I turned in the opposite direction. I shook my head, brushing her off, and made my way down an old, narrow tunnel. The air grew colder as it opened into a massive crevice.


    I grabbed the lighter I kept on my workbench, the edges worn soft from years of use, and struck a match. The first lamp flared to life, its warm glow spilling across the room and illuminating my little workshop.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    One by one I lit the lamps scattered around, their light casting shadows on the rocky walls. The space slowly transformed, revealing the organized chaos I called my own. Scrap metal, gears, and half finished projects were strewn across the floor and workbenches, some piled high. This was my sanctuary. The one place where I could be free from the noise of the world outside to create to my heart''s content.


    I plopped down at my workbench, already annoyed. Another gift for Ev, huh? Wasn¡¯t she happy enough with those gloves I made her? She wore them every day. I sat there in silence for a few minutes, my mind blank, the frustration bubbling up.


    ¡°She comes down here often enough,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°She could learn to make something on her own.¡±


    Still, I sighed and started tinkering. A hat, right? She¡¯d been begging for one. Over the next two hours, I crafted a pair of identical wide-brimmed black hats. I finished hers first, adding a gold metal V to the front. As I glanced at mine, guilt gnawed at me. It didn¡¯t feel right, only making things for us.


    I rolled my chair over to the table on my right, where unfinished projects had gathered dust. Among them was a fancy box containing a pair of daggers. Ev had swiped them from some big-shot statesman in Remfall¡ªshe had a habit of grabbing shiny things and running. I picked one up, tracing a finger along the blade¡¯s edge.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± I hissed as it nicked me. Blood welled up from the cut, and I quickly sucked my finger to keep it from dripping. Maybe I should give these to Mae. The thought made me smirk despite the sting. She¡¯s been wanting her own weapons for awhile now.


    Mae, then, I thought, wincing. Since she likes to drain the life out of me.


    I turned my attention to another project¡ªa weapon I¡¯d been making for Senna. It was a long-range pistol designed for precise accuracy. I haven''t tested it yet, but it should work. I gave the sleek black-and-red gun a final once-over, checking the time.


    Yawning, I stretched out the knots in my back and rubbed at my tired eyes. It was late. I shuffled back through the tunnel, exhaustion weighing me down.


    The three of them were already asleep by the time I slipped into bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, I drifted off.


    Morning came far too soon, I had woken to the soft sound of Mae humming, her tiny hands busy doodling on my face. Groaning, I turned toward the clock. It was 1:30. I slept half the day away.


    Mae frowned, frustrated as my movements disrupted her latest masterpiece. ¡°Stop moving so much!¡± she huffed, her expression was tense as she continued her work.


    I sighed inwardly, my entire body aching from two grueling weeks of work. ¡°Senna?¡± I asked, closing my right eye as she drew around it.


    ¡°Something about meeting Frankie One-Eye,¡± she replied absentmindedly, her brow tightened in concentration. ¡°All done!¡±


    Another job for Senna? That could only mean one thing: good food might finally be on the horizon. My stomach growled, and a wicked grin spread across my face as I imagined something warm and flavorful for dinner. Mae tilted her head, confused at first, but when I broke into a chuckle, she joined me, her laughter filling the room. Neither of us had a clue why the other was laughing, but it didn¡¯t matter. For a moment, we were just two fools, lost in shared glee.


    The clock ticked on, now 1:34. I suddenly remembered the hats. They weren¡¯t finished yet. I groaned, forcing myself out of bed. ¡°I¡¯m going to see the Rani twins. I¡¯ll be back in a bit,¡± I said, grabbing a black cloak to cover myself.


    ¡°Jack, wait!¡± Mae called after me. I stopped near the entrance, raising an eyebrow. She was doing her best to keep a straight face but succumbed to giggles. ¡°Never mind!¡± she managed between fits of laughter.


    Was I missing something? Shaking my head, I dismissed the thought. Crawling out of the hideout, I moved carefully to avoid being seen.


    Donning the cloak, I stuck to the shadows as I navigated the outskirts of Purgatory. The Rani twins were children of the infamous Rose Thorn and a man known as ¡°The Claw.¡± At least, that¡¯s what Donrani claimed.


    I made my way through the grimy streets past a group of drunks in the middle of Purgatory when a familiar voice called out, stopping me in my tracks. Before I could turn around, a pack of rats darted across my feet, their scruffy bodies weaving through the gaps in the cobblestones before vanishing alleyway. I jumped, my heart skipping a beat at the sudden rush of movement.


    Just then, a faint, familiar scent wafted through the air, cutting through the grime and staleness of the market. Peppermint, the sharp smell stood out against the usual smells of rust and decay


    ¡°You alright, kiddo? Splicers and Rat Catchers round these parts.  Kid like you could end up missin.¡± a powerful, familiar voice boomed behind me. I spun around, startled, to find Frankie standing there, his single eye gleaming with amusement.


    ¡°Well, if it ain¡¯t Jackie boy!¡± he said, a broad grin spreading across his face. ¡°Ha!¡±


    ¡°Hey, Frankie,¡± I muttered, forcing a smile as my gaze darted to the empty space where his right eye should¡¯ve been. He¡¯d never told me how he¡¯d lost it, and I wasn¡¯t about to ask now.


    ¡°How¡¯s that inventor sister of yours? Bet she¡¯s got you running all over town collecting scraps for another one of her inventions,¡± he chuckled.


    I scratched my cheek sheepishly. ¡°I, um¡­ accidentally got in trouble with the foreman, and she saved me by promising to work this weekend.¡±


    Frankie cracked his knuckles. ¡°What¡¯s the name of this foreman? Perhaps I should pay him a visit.¡±


    His friendly tone didn¡¯t match the implication at all. I couldn¡¯t help but briefly imagine what life would be like if the foreman weren¡¯t around.


    ¡°Foreman Bulatta,¡± I said quickly.


    Frankie¡¯s face twitched. ¡°Is that right¡­hmm¡± he said slowly. I blinked, tilting my head. Did he know Bulatta?


    ¡°Hey, Jack, did your sister ever consider my offer?¡±


    I blinked again. What offer?


    Frankie glanced around the area, then leaned in. ¡°Y¡¯know, considering how I took care of you kids, she should definitely accept my offer. A finder¡¯s fee for a kid like her is quite the payday. She has a chance at a better life¡ªsomething many here would kill for.¡±


    He sighed when he noticed my increasingly confused expression. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I forced a smile.


    ¡°Look, Jack, just tell her to come see me tonight before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of candy. ¡°Best be on your way, Jackie boy.¡±


    Any lingering thoughts left my head as I greedily grabbed the candy. I popped it into my mouth, savoring the sweetness. ¡°Okay. See ya later, Frankie!¡± I waved as I jogged away.


    It wasn¡¯t long before I found myself standing outside Lock&Key, a bar named after the twins¡¯ parents. I pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with rough, dangerous-looking people. They all abruptly stopped what they were doing and gave me weird looks.


    Why is everyone acting like they haven''t seen a machine rat? I come here all the time¡ªPulling my hood lower, I kept my head down and made my way toward the back. I ignored the nasty comments some of the patrons muttered as I passed. Stopping before the two men guarding the back door, I waited as they gave me a quick once-over. Without a word, they stepped aside, allowing me to pass.


    Upon seeing me, Serrani¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Jack! What are you doing here?¡±


    The muffled thrum of music filtered in from the next room¡ªprobably Donrani blasting his tunes as usual. I smiled like an idiot, my heart skipping a beat. Serrani sure was pretty.


    Serrani had a striking presence that was hard to ignore. Her dark brown hair framed her face in soft waves, a few loose strands always escaping whatever attempt she made to tie it back. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes seemed to notice everything. Her light blue apron held snug on her wiry frame, practical yet somehow elegant, much like the one she carried herself.


    ¡°Are you¡­ alright?¡± she asked, her voice soft as she leaned closer, poking my cheek.


    I jumped back, clearing my throat. ¡°Doing awesome!¡± I replied, a little too loudly.


    LOSER! I screamed at myself internally. ¡°Doing awesome?¡± Could I be more lame?


    Serrani tilted her head, her curious gaze locked on mine. She rested a finger on her bottom lip, the sight of her mouth making her difficult to look at. ¡°Hmm¡­ if you say so.¡±


    My eyes betrayed me, lingering onto her finger as it brushed against her lips. Lips. She¡¯s definitely got really nice¡ªFocus, Jack! I chastised myself, dragging my gaze away.


    ¡°Do you know where I can find a pair of flat steel discs about¡­ this big?¡± I asked, holding my hands about a foot and a half apart. If she could point me in the right direction, it would save me a lot of trouble scavenging around. Besides, I wanted to make it back before Senna and Ev did. I didn¡¯t like the idea of leaving Mae alone until midnight again.


    Serrani stood gracefully, brushing off her pants as if the motion itself were effortless. ¡°Come with me. I know a place.¡±


    I nodded eagerly, Please don''t be far.


    Unfortunately, it was. She led me halfway across the city to a mechanic¡¯s shop, where the owner looked less than thrilled about parting with two perfectly good steel plates. Luckily for me, Serrani had brought bodyguards. The burly men at her side ensured that any would-be thieves or troublemakers kept their distance.


    We eventually stopped at a small bridge. Serrani paused there, scanning the area. Due to who she was¡ªor, more likely, who her family was¡ªthere were certain places she couldn¡¯t be seen. I never fully understood the reasons, but I figured it was some kind of adult rule I didn¡¯t need to question.


    I adjusted my grip on the plates, double-checking to make sure they were secure. ¡°Alright. See ya later, Serra!¡± I said, turning to leave.


    ¡°Jack, wait! I have something to tell you.¡± I was halfway across the bridge when Serrani called out to me


    Her gloomy expression stopped me in my tracks, my stomach twisting with unease. It was the kind of look people had when they said goodbye.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving next week.¡± she said, her voice quiet. ¡°Mom and Dad are splitting Don and I up. They¡¯re sending me to Remfall University.¡± She scoffed, rolling her eyes. ¡°Can you imagine that? Me, living it up with a bunch of Ringers.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t. Not even for a second. I stood there frozen, a half-baked smile plastered on my face as her words sank in. This wasn¡¯t fair.


    ¡°W-why¡­ why are you leaving?¡± I stammered, my voice shaky as I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat.


    ¡°Dad says our enemies will start becoming bolder soon,¡± she said, walking over to lean against the bridge railing. Her gaze drifted to the flowing stream below, her eyes glossy, lost in thought. ¡°So he¡¯s sending us somewhere they can¡¯t reach.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want her to leave. I never told her how I felt. If it weren¡¯t for her, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to build half of the things I¡¯d worked on. She was the spark that made everything possible.


    I shook my head, trying to push the weight of her words aside. ¡°Then let¡¯s make it like, totally the most fun day ever!¡±


    She smiled, her expression softening, and for a moment, the tension between us lifted. ¡°I know just the place. There¡¯s a concert being held at the Works. Meet me there at seven.¡± She paused, her eyes narrowing playfully. ¡°You¡¯re not going to stand me up again, are you?¡±


    Again? What did she mean by that? Panic flared, and I quickly nodded my head. ¡°Mmm-mmm, I promise.¡±


    She mumbled something under her breath¡ªsomething I couldn¡¯t quite catch¡ªthen leaned in and kissed my cheek. I froze, staring down at the steel plates in my hands and cursing their very existence. My first kiss! How can this day be so amazing and horrible at the same time?


    Serrani giggled, spinning on her heel. ¡°Better be there, Jack. Oh, and tell Mae she¡¯s getting better!¡±


    Before I could respond, she and her escorts disappeared into the bustling crowd of civilians, leaving me standing there, rooted to the spot, with a racing heart and a million thoughts swirling in my head.


    What does she mean, Mae¡¯s getting better? I thought, turning the phrase over in my head. Her comment didn¡¯t make sense¡ªat least not at first.


    As I was walking back¡ªI glanced down at a puddle on the ground. My reflection stared back at me, complete with the ridiculous doodles Mae had drawn on my face.


    My cheeks burned, turning bright red with embarrassment. Oh no¡­

 A Fragile Balance

    I pulled the hood of my cloak tighter over my head, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed my ridiculous face. The streets of Purgatory weren¡¯t forgiving¡ªnot to weakness and definitely not to someone walking around looking like a failed art experiment .


    This part of Purgatory wasn¡¯t like other parts of the city. Here, the air was heavy, thick with the stench of sweat, rot. The uneven cobblestone streets were littered with trash, broken glass, and things I¡¯d rather not think too hard about.


    Shadows clung to every corner, growing long and distorted under the flickering, dying streetlights. What few vendors still lingered at this side of town, their makeshift stalls cobbled together with scrap and desperation.


    The people were just as ragged as the streets¡ªgaunt faces with hollow eyes, scarred hands that twitched nervously, and voices that whispered deals better left unheard. Some leaned against crumbling walls.


    Ahead, two men argued loudly, their voices echoing down the narrow alley. A shove turned into a scuffle, and I quickly slipped into a side path to avoid them. Getting involved in someone else¡¯s fight was the fastest way to wind up in a ditch¡ªor worse.


    As I approached the hideout, I slowed, letting out a quiet breath I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been holding. My reflection in a grimy window caught my eye, the doodles still mocking me. I sighed, shaking my head. Mae was going to have a field day when I got back in


    Few people lived on the outskirts like us¡ªespecially out here among the jagged rocks. The silence was eerie, broken only by the distant hum of machinery¡ªThe dim glow of the distant factory fires was still visible. I paused to survey the area, checking for any signs of movement. Finding none, I crouched and slinked down through the narrow crack leading to the hideout. Maneuvering with the plates was tricky, but there was just enough room to make it through.


    Entering our hideout, the stench of Purgatory finally faded from my nose, replaced by the faint metallic tang of oil and the musty scent of stone. Was this a good day or a bad day?


    Ev was at work in my place, fixing the foreman¡¯s gun and jukebox. Senna was off doing something, but since he went to Frankie, that meant we¡¯d probably have some good food tonight. Mae embarrassed me again, which sucked, and Serrani was leaving tomorrow.


    But¡­ I did get my first date and my first kiss.


    So, yeah. It was a good day. Dare I say, a great day.


    I groaned as my arms strained from holding the plates for so long. I¡¯d better hurry before they gave out.


    Inside, Mae was sprawled on the floor, flipping lazily through a combat instruction manual. She glanced up, her sharp green eyes immediately locking onto the plates.


    ¡°That was fast, and you got some quality steel too,¡± she said, sitting up with excitement. Then her eyes lit up even more. ¡°Are you making me a sword?!¡±


    ¡°No! Are you crazy? Ev and Senna would kill me,¡± I replied quickly.


    Mae¡¯s face scrunched into her signature pout, her lower lip jutting out dramatically. ¡°Then why else are you so happy?¡±


    I leaned the plates against the rocky wall and puffed out my chest. ¡°This guy just got his first kiss from Serrani,¡± I said proudly.


    ¡°Ew, ew, ew! Gross!¡± Mae exclaimed, recoiling like I¡¯d just told her I ate worms for breakfast.


    ¡°It¡¯s not gross!¡± I shot back, indignant.


    ¡°What¡¯s gross?¡± Ev asked, stepping into the room. Her short hair framed her face, giving her a sharp, boyish look¡ªa practical style for a machine rat. Long hair was just asking to get caught in gears.


    Mae pointed at me, all dramatic flair. ¡°He said Serrani gave him a kiss!¡±


    I relaxed slightly. Thank god Ev¡¯s here to set her straight.


    Instead of defending me, Ev covered her mouth and backed away slowly, her eyes wide with mock horror. ¡°Oh, the horror! Poor Jack¡­ He¡¯s doomed. Doomed, I say! Destined to become some murderous, raging psychopath!¡±


    Mae tilted her head, her face scrunching in confusion. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    I bent down to grab the plates. ¡°It means Ev here is what the grown-ups call an idealist,¡± I muttered, shuffling toward the tunnel. ¡°And maybe a little jealous,¡± I added with a smirk.


    ¡°Did I mention the first step is becoming ugly?¡± she teased, following close behind.


    I rolled my eyes. Ev never much liked the Rani twins. Being the kids of two infamous murderers didn¡¯t sit right with her, as if anyone else in this place was any better.


    At the bottom of the tunnel, Ev lit the lamps, their flickering light casting jagged shadows across the cluttered workspace.


    ¡°Oh, yeah, Frankie wanted me to ask you about his offer¡ªwhatever that means,¡± I said, setting the plates on the workbench.


    Ev didn¡¯t reply, already distracted. I turned my focus back to the plates, measuring them carefully. By the time I finished, Ev and Mae were gone.


    ¡°Oh well,¡± I muttered, pulling on my goggles.


    As I started cutting into the steel, the world around me disappeared. The sharp hiss of metal against metal and the glow of the lamps were all that mattered. Time passed in a blur, and before I knew it, the pair of hats were finished. I laid them carefully on the cleared workbench, glancing up at the dangling wires that seemed to vanish into the darkness above.


    There was still one last task.


    After another hour of work, I scurried back upstairs, my stomach grumbling faintly.


    Senna, Ev, and Mae were huddled around the usual pot of black beans. Senna smiled apologetically when he saw me. No luck this time, huh?Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    I grabbed my usual small portion and sat down, eating slowly to savor every bite. The room was quiet, a heavy stillness hanging over us. Ev lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Senna poked at his food in silence. The only normalcy came from Mae, singing a nonsensical tune about herself and her ¡°present.¡±


    When I finished my bowl, I set it down and stood, licking my lips. Before I could say anything, Ev sat up abruptly.


    ¡°You finished my present, didn¡¯t you?¡± she asked, her eyes darting around the room. ¡°Where is it?¡±


    I sighed, gesturing toward the tunnel. ¡°It¡¯s down there, along with everyone else¡¯s.¡±


    Senna raised an eyebrow, and Mae squealed with delight, bouncing on her feet.


    I led them through the tunnels, Mae skipping ahead, her latest song consisting mostly of ¡°Mae¡± and ¡°Present.¡± I tuned her out as best as I could.


    When we reached the bottom, I stopped them. ¡°Stay here a sec.¡±


    The three exchanged confused looks as I darted around, dousing all the lights and plunging us into darkness.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Ev said dryly, her voice cutting through the silence. ¡°I never thought Jack was one for theatrics. All this for my hat? How am I so lucky?¡±


    Senna coughed, ¡°Ahem, it¡¯s for all of us, remember?¡±


    ¡°Must¡¯ve slipped my mind,¡± she replied smugly.


    ¡°JACK IS GIVING MAE HIS LONELY PLACE!¡± Mae shrieked, bouncing on her toes.


    I inwardly groaned, forcing a smile as I pulled down a lever. The space was suddenly bathed in crimson light. Overhead, a large red moon flickered to life, casting an eerie glow across the workshop. Smaller lights, strung haphazardly along the walls, lit up in sequence, their soft hum breaking the silence.


    Senna rubbed the back of his head. ¡°It¡¯s impressive you managed to get power down here, but¡­ I think I preferred the old light. That moon feels a bit off.¡±


    Ev, however, seemed captivated, her eyes fixed on the glowing red orb. ¡°Do you guys hear that?¡± she whispered.


    I strained my ears, listening for anything unusual. ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything.¡±


    Mae, uninterested in the light show, sprinted toward the workbench. ¡°Which one¡¯s mine?¡± she asked, practically vibrating with excitement.


    I grabbed the fancy box, removing its lid to reveal the daggers inside, gleaming ominously in the crimson light. ¡°These are for you,¡± I said, glancing nervously at Senna and Ev, whose raised eyebrows burned holes in me. ¡°But you¡¯ll get them when you¡¯re older.¡± Yeah, probably not my best idea.


    ¡°Yay!¡± Mae cheered, clearly not understanding she wouldn¡¯t actually get them anytime soon.


    Quickly moving on, I picked up Senna¡¯s gift and handed it to him, holding my breath. The gold-and-brown pistol gleamed as he rolled it over in his hands, stopping to notice the initials carved into the metal just behind the trigger.


    ¡°Jack, this is¡­¡± he paused, glancing at me. ¡°Perfect. I¡¯m proud of you, Jack.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but grin. ¡°I am the best, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    Senna rolled his eyes but smiled as he holstered the pistol.


    With one more gift to go, I grabbed Ev¡¯s hat from the table. I glanced up to make sure she was watching, then applied pressure to the right side of the brim. Sharp metal jutted out, barely noticeable but undeniably deadly. To demonstrate, I flung the hat at an old metal chair. The blade sliced deep into one of the legs, leaving it lopsided. I walked over and dusted off the hat, pressing the same spot to retract the blade.


    Ev took the hat wordlessly, inspecting every inch of it with the sharp focus only she could manage. When she put it on, it nearly slipped off her head¡ªit was a bit too big for now, but she¡¯d grow into it. If she lived long enough.


    ¡°Jack, this is incredible. I love it,¡± she said quietly.


    I shrugged and slid on my own hat. ¡°I made one for myself too.¡± Mine had a ¡°J¡± on the front and was slightly smaller.


    Leaning back in my chair, I watched the three of them admire their gifts. Mae wasn¡¯t allowed to touch anything, of course, but that didn¡¯t stop her from marveling at them. Senna was already playing with his new pistol.


    ¡°Watch it, punk!¡± he said, twirling it dramatically. ¡°You know who I am? No? Then let me show you. Whablam!¡±


    Ev arched a brow, unimpressed. ¡°You know, that just might be¡­ the lamest thing I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    Senna¡¯s face fell, like he¡¯d just been betrayed.


    ¡°Never do it again, okay?¡± she added, her lips curling into a creepy smile.


    I stifled a laugh, watching them. It was rare to see everyone genuinely happy ¡ªmoments like this felt as fragile as they were fleeting. Sweet¡­


    I smacked my forehead as the thought hit me. I almost forgot!   ¡°Ev, Frankie said something about an offer he gave you. Oh, and that you should tell him by tomorrow. Whatever that means.¡±


    The words hung in the air, echoing faintly in the quiet workshop.


    Ev¡¯s smile faltered, a subtle tension creeping into her expression. ¡°An offer?¡± she murmured, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. Her voice was calm but I caught the sharp edge hiding underneath.


    I glazed at senna, who had gone unnervingly still. His hands rested at his sides, clenched tight enough to make his knuckles whiten.


    For a moment, he didn''t answer. The air felt heavier, like the room was holding its breath


    Then, without warning, senna slammed his first into the rock wall, the sharp crack splitting like a whip. The force echoed through the workshop, sending a shiver up my spine. Dammit he barked, his voice raw with anger. ¡°I told him to leave her alone!¡±


    Ev angrily crossed her arms, her fingers gripping her sleeves tightly. ¡°Hang on. When did you say that to frankie? Are you doing jobs for him again?¡±


    Senna froze, his gaze flicking briefly to Mae and me before he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. ¡°Look.¡± he began, his tone defensive but weary. ¡°It was just a little meet up for a simple job. I sneak into some dead rich guy¡¯s house, grab a few designs and valuables and get out. That''s it¡±


    He paused, running a hand through his hair as though trying to shake off the weight of the explanation. ¡°The problem was I couldn''t find a way in. the place was locked down tighter than i expected¡ªguards everywhere, not a single opening.¡±


    Ev¡¯s scoff cut through the tension like a blade. ¡°You can''t risk your life like that!¡± she snapped her voice rising. ¡°What are we supposed to do if something happens to you?¡±


    Senna¡¯s eyes narrowed as he turned towards her, his jaw tightening. ¡°And who do you think I''m doing this for? He shot back. ¡°The pay would''ve been enough to fix your problem. You think I''m just out there for fun?¡±


    The air felt heavy, thick unspoken frustrations. I sat frozen, my nervous smile glued to my face like a mask. Why were they fighting? We''d all been happy just moments ago¡­


    Evs trembling hands dropped to her sides as she locked eyes with Senna. ¡°Where exactly is this dead guy''s place?¡± she asked , her voice quiet but steely.


    Senna hesitated for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a shrug, he said ¡°I don''t know the address. I just followed the map Frankie gave me. There was a green statue out front. Some kind of angel I think.¡±


    Ev closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as if steadying herself. When she opened them again, the fire in her gaze was unmistakable. ¡°I know the place,¡± she said firmly


    ¡°And I know the way in.¡±


    Senna raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°But,¡± Ev continued, cutting him off, ¡°neither of us is small enough to make use of the opening.¡± Her words hung in the air.


    Senna turned his head towards me, his lips curving in a slow, deliberate smile. ¡°You¡¯re up, Jack, he said.


    I stiffened, my stomach tightened with excitement as Ev''s gaze followed him. Her face hardened the instant she realized what he was insinuating ¡°No!¡± she barked, ¡°absolutely not!¡±

 The Plan

    The next morning, the usual hum of Purgatory life seeped into our hideout. Dripping water, distant clangs of machinery, and the occasional muffled shout painted the backdrop of our lives.


    I was up early, tinkering with a busted radio id found the other day. My hands moved on autopilot, twisting wires and adjusting dials, but my thoughts were far from focused. I can''t believe I get to be a part of one of Frankie¡¯s jobs. The excitement was clearly expressed on my face.


    Across the room, Mae sat cross-legged on the floor, her attention buried in her combat manual. She hummed to herself, off-key but blissfully unaware of the tension hanging over us. She paused, looking up at me. ¡°Jack, why did Ev get so mad last night? Are we in trouble?¡±


    My fingers slipped, sending a faint spark from the radio. ¡°Uh¡­I don''t know,¡± I mumbled, not meeting her eyes.


    Mae frowned, but before she could press further, Senna entered, his boots scuffing against the stone floor. He was carrying a bag of something that looked suspiciously like food from the market¡ªrare, but not unheard of when Frankie was involved.


    ¡°Mae,¡± he said, his voice steady but with an edge that suggested he wasn¡¯t in the mood for her usual questions. ¡°Go wake Ev.¡±


    Mae looked at him for a moment, her pout forming. ¡°Why do i always have to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just do it,¡± Senna interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    Grumbling, Mae skipped off toward the sleeping area.


    Senna dropped the bag on the table and glanced at me. ¡°You look way too chipper for someone about to walk into danger.¡±


    I shrugged, barely hiding my grin. ¡°Is it that obvious? This could be huge right? One job and maybe we can finally get a decent meal, hell maybe Frankie sees what I can really do and will take me on some of the jobs you guys do.¡±


    Senna raised an eyebrow, his lips pulling into a lopsided smirk. ¡°Careful what you wish for Jack. Frankie doesn''t forget talent, and he doesnt let it walk away either.¡±


    I paused mid-twist of a wire, his words sinking in for a moment before I shook them off. No, this is a good thing. ¡°Still, it''s better than being stuck here forever.¡±


    Senna didn''t respond, just leaned back on the old wooden box we used as chairs, the faint creak of wood breaking the silence as he eyed me like he knew something I didn''t.


    When Ev finally emerged, her hair a tangled mess and her expression sharper than daggers. She didn''t look at me¡ªdidn''t even acknowledge me as he grabbed a piece of the stale bread senna had brought. Mae trailed in behind her, humming something that sounded vaguely like a victory march.¡°Evs awake!¡± she declared unnecessarily, plopping down beside her.


    ¡°About time,¡± Senna muttered, pushing the bag toward Ev. ¡°Eat. We''re meeting Franke in two hours.¡±


    Ev froze mid-bite, her jaw tightening as she set the bread down with deliberate slowness. ¡°And then what?¡± she asked, her voice flat. ¡°We just go along with his plan and hope Jack doesn''t screw it up?¡±


    I blinked, startled. ¡°What''s that supposed to mean?¡±


    ¡°It means,¡± she said, finally turning to glare at me, ¡°that this isn''t a game, Jack. You mess up, and it''s not just you who pays for it.¡±


    The sting of her words caught me off guard, but I forced a smile, refusing to let her kill my buzz. ¡°Relax. I''ve got this.¡±


    Ev didn''t look convinced. She muttered something under her breath before standing abruptly walking back toward the sleeping area.


    Mae, ever the peacemaker, poked my arm. ¡°Don''t worry, jack. You''re good at stuff! You''ll do awesome.¡±


    Soon after leaving Mae at home, we set off for Frankie¡¯s place. The Burge. No one really knew where the name came from; it sounded like something someone muttered once, and it just stuck.


    The walk stretched on in heavy silence. Senna and Ev walked ahead of me, their footsteps falling in uneven rhythm. The tension between them was almost suffocating. Ev¡¯s arms were crossed, her head slightly turned away, while Senna occasionally glanced at her, as if trying to figure out what to say. Every time one of them spoke, it fizzled into curt, one-word replies that only deepened the awkwardness.


    I trailed a few steps behind, my hands shoved into my pockets. I hated being left out, especially when it came to whatever invisible war they were waging, but I wasn¡¯t about to stick my neck out by asking.


    Before we left, Ev demanded she get her favorite drink as compensation for ¡°having ruined her weekend.¡±


    Senna let out a quiet sigh, clearly unimpressed, but before he could argue, she was already holding out her hand expectantly. With a grumble, he dug a few coins from his pocket, forking them over.


    She took a long, deliberate sip, then waved us off with a flick of her wrist. ¡°Go on ahead. I want to enjoy this in peace.¡±


    Senna and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us argued. We continued down the street, the faint murmur of activity in Purgatory filling the gaps in conversation. The smells of fried meat and engine oil clung to the air, mingling with the occasional burst of laughter or a shouted argument.


    We turned a corner, and a shout cut through the air like a warning shot. A man hurled a shoe with all the force he could muster, his target ducking just in time. The shoe whizzed past and clattered to the ground, narrowly missing senna, who sidestepped it with practiced ease.


    ¡°Careful,¡± he muttered, glancing at the offender, but his words were drowned out by the eruption that followed.


    The man who dodged the shoe lunged forward, tackling his assailant with a feral growl. Dust swirled in the dim light as the two men collided in a flurry of fists and wild, brutal movements.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Jack,¡± Senna said, his voice calm and distracted as though the scene barely registered to him. He stepped aside as the brawl got more aggressive, a few bystanders started forming around him ¡°We¡¯ll sort it out eventually.¡±


    ¡°Sort what out?¡±


    The voice was unmistakable, pulling my attention away from the chaos. Serrani stood just behind us, her figure glowing softly under the warm halo of a nearby streetlamp. Her guards flanked her on either side, their gazes sharp and unyielding, though their postures suggested they were more interested in the fight than anything else.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you in a month, Senna,¡± Serrani said, her face making a disappointing look. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for Jack, I¡¯d have thought you were all dead.¡±


    Senna chuckled lightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. ¡°Well, you know Ev isn¡¯t your biggest fan, and I¡¯d rather not deal with one of her lectures. Plus, I¡¯ve been busy doing jobs for Frankie again.¡±


    Serrani groaned, rolling her eyes. ¡°You guys wouldn¡¯t be starving if you worked for my parents. I don¡¯t understand why Ev is so against it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easy,¡± Senna replied, leaning against a rusted post. ¡°She thinks your parents are murderous criminals in a murderous criminal organization, and us joining would corrupt our ¡®moral compass.¡¯ Whatever that means.¡±


    I frowned, glancing between them. Sure, Serrani¡¯s parents were dangerous, but I honestly think Ev¡¯s real issue is that Serrani is prettier than her. Not that I¡¯d ever say that.


    It¡¯s strange to see her outside the Lock & Key bar. I usually find her in the backrooms talking to Don or sitting alone. ¡°Whaddya doin out here in the middle of the street?¡±


    Serrani gestured at the ongoing fight, ¡°I was supposed to oversee a small time deal sanctioned by Mom and Dad¡¯s bosses, but as you can see¡­.¡±


    Senna cleared his throat, his tone shifting to mock seriousness. ¡°Right. Can I talk to you in private? I have a few questions about your intentions with my younger brother. Marriage isn¡¯t off the table, but I need to confirm a few things.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Heat rushed to my face. ¡°Senna!¡± I hissed, mortified, but it was too late. Serrani¡¯s composure cracked, her face turning as red as mine.


    She glanced away quickly, and my embarrassment melted into smug satisfaction. Serrani blushing? That was perfect. I couldn¡¯t help the grin spreading across my face as my thoughts started to wander.


    For a moment, the world around me faded. I imagined a future where things were simple. Where Serrani and I were something more. Laughter in the quiet moments. The way her hand might feel brushing against mine. The warmth of her voice, just for me.


    I tried to snap out of it, but the grin wouldn¡¯t leave my face.


    Serrani had turned to Senna, and they exchanged a few words before stepping aside. Their voices like they didn¡¯t want anyone overhearing. dipped low, whispering in hushed tonesI tried not to look, but curiosity tugged at my focus. What were they talking And why the secrecy again?


    about?I kicked a loose stone at my feet, trying to act casual. A small cloud of dust puffed up where it landed, filling the air as I waited for them to come back. My thoughts circled back to Serrani¡¯s reaction, replaying her quick glance and the faint color rising in her cheeks.


    It wasn¡¯t long before Senna returned, breaking whatever trance I¡¯d been in. He nudged my arm, his expression unreadable.


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± he said, ¡°Let¡¯s go check on Ev.¡±


    I followed him without question, catching one last glance at Serrani. She didn¡¯t meet my eyes.


    It didn¡¯t take long to find Ev. She was sitting on a stool in front of the vendor we left her at, staring at the chaos that had unfolded in the street. The fight had seemingly grown into a brawl.


    ¡°You look too pleased with yourself,¡± Ev said, her eyes flicking up at me before returning to the fight.


    ¡°It¡¯s not everyday a boy becomes a man.¡± I said, leaning back with a smug grin


    She didn''t miss a beat. ¡°And what do you know about becoming a man?


    ¡°A girl like you wouldn¡¯t get it if I told you.¡± I shot back, trying to sound cool.


    Ev snorted. ¡°Right, because you¡¯re a man now?¡±


    Senna clapped his hands together, drawing our attention. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. No distractions.¡±


    The three of us set off toward the Burge. It sat near the middle of Purgatory, nestled close to the massive support structure that loomed like a dark mountain in the distance. Above it, the central stalagmite towered, its peak hidden in the haze of smoke and light from the city¡¯s upper tiers. The wealthy or Purgatory lived up there, untouchable, like they didn¡¯t even breathe the same air as the rest of us. Ungrateful of where they came from.


    The Burge itself was smaller than I¡¯d expected, its stone walls weathered and dark. Despite its size, it seemed to pulse with life. ¡°It¡¯s owned by Josiah Wright, an information broker.¡± Senna said as we approached, his voice low but steady. ¡°Just keep your head low¡±


    I nodded, even though my nerves were starting to buzz. I¡¯d never been inside before. The Burge had always been a place Senna refused to talk about. Now that I was here, I wasn¡¯t sure if my curiosity or unease was stronger.


    I stuck close to Senna, the rough edges of my confidence fraying as we neared the entrance. My eyes flicked to Ev, who seemed entirely unbothered, and then to Senna, who strode forward with confidence.


    ¡°Just stick with me,¡± Senna said over his shoulder, not breaking stride. His voice was calm, but it held that unspoken edge of authority I¡¯d come to rely on.


    Taking a steadying breath, I followed him inside.


    From the outside, the Burge didn¡¯t look like much. Seemed like just another tall building owned by some guy with power. Inside, though, was another story. The air was thick with smoke, perfume, and something else I couldn¡¯t quite place¡ªa heady mixture that clung to my skin. This was a place for adults with... peculiar tastes. Men tangled with men, women bound in strange positions, and there was even a woman folded entirely in half, pleasuring herself. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder why someone like her even needed to be here.


    Ev¡¯s reaction wasn¡¯t much better. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene, her face twisting between confusion and disgust. Noticing my gaze, she shot me a sharp look before clamping a hand over my eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at that,¡± she muttered, dragging me through the maze of depravity while keeping her other hand tightly wrapped around mine.


    We weaved through the dimly lit corridors, slipping past half-naked bodies and the muffled sounds of laughter and moans. The air seemed heavier here, charged with something I didn¡¯t fully understand. After a few moments, Ev finally removed her hand from my eyes.


    The first thing I saw was a large, reinforced metal door at the end of the hall. Senna approached it confidently, raising his fist to knock. Two sharp taps, then three, followed by a final one for good measure.


    For a moment, nothing happened. The muffled chaos of the Burge buzzed behind us: the distant shouts, clinking glass, and occasional burst of laughter. I shifted uneasily, half-expecting something to go wrong. Metal locks clicked and clattered, the sound sharp and mechanical as they were undone. The door creaked open, just enough for Frankie to poke his head out.


    His sharp eyes swept the hallway, scanning us and the space behind us with the precision of someone who trusted no one. Satisfied, he pushed the door wider and jerked his head toward the interior. ¡°Get in.¡±


    The room beyond was a stark contrast to the rest of the Burge. It was dimly lit but quiet, almost serene compared to the cacophony outside. A woman sat on a worn sofa, puffing on a long pipe. She was heavyset, dressed in a garish yellow gown that barely contained her ample figure.


    ¡°Who the fuck are these kids?¡± she asked, her voice as rough as the smoke curling from her lips.


    Frankie strolled over, casually snatching the pipe from her hand and taking a puff himself. ¡°Time to skedaddle Big Ma.¡±


    Ma? My brow furrowed. She didn¡¯t look anything like him¡ªand, honestly, she didn¡¯t even seem much older.


    The woman huffed, standing up with surprising grace for someone her size. ¡°And what¡¯s to be done about Tommy¡¯s boys? They¡¯ve been messing up my girls and ruining profits.¡±


    Frankie waved her off, guiding her toward the door. ¡°Ol¡¯ Tommy¡¯s about to learn what happens when you mess with the merchandise. They¡¯ll be out of your hair soon enough.¡±


    He paused at the threshold, glancing back at her. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t worry. Josiah won¡¯t ask for payment this month, considering your... circumstances.¡±


    Big Ma gave him a curt nod, her lips curling into a sly smile. ¡°Give the boss my thanks.¡±


    ¡°Will do,¡± Frankie said, ushering her out and closing the door firmly behind her. The locks clicked back into place, the sound carrying an odd sense of finality.


    He turned to us with a long, exaggerated sigh before breaking into a broad grin. ¡°Now then, what can I do you for?¡±


    Senna stepped forward, running through the details of the heist and explaining why Ev and I needed to be added to the plan. Frankie listened intently, his sharp eyes narrowing in thought as he stroked his chin. Without a word, he crossed the room to a rusty cabinet, pulling open drawer after drawer as he rifled through stacks of papers.


    Finally, he pulled out a bundle of yellowed documents, spreading them across a wooden table. He gestured for us to gather around. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, his voice low and serious. ¡°Let¡¯s get to it.¡±


    The three of us exchanged looks before walking over and taking a seat.  Frankie leaned back in his chair, his large frame casting round shadows in the dim light from the hanging lamp above.


    ¡°So, here¡¯s the plan,¡± Frankie began, slapping a creased map down onto the desk. ¡°Once you get off the train, follow this map to the letter. It¡¯ll take you straight into the sewers. From there, you pop out right next to the vent.¡± He tapped a circle on the map, glancing at me. ¡°Jackie boy, that¡¯s where you come in.¡±


    I leaned forward eagerly,  ¡°What do I do?¡±


    Frankie smirked. ¡°The vent should have an opening here. Crawl through, then open the first panel you see¡ªit¡¯ll drop you into the elevator shaft. Look for the ladder on the wall and climb until you hit the top.¡±


    ¡°Then what?¡± Senna asked, calmly.


    ¡°There¡¯s another vent at the end of the ladder,¡± Frankie continued, pointing to a marked path on the map. ¡°Open that up, stick to the right, and you¡¯ll find another opening. Meanwhile¡±¡ªhe looked up at Senna and Ev¡ª¡°you two are taking the adjacent building. Go up the stairwell, jump across to the balcony, and wait for Jack to unlock the door. Then you¡¯re in.¡±


    Senna nodded slowly, studying the map. ¡°And once we¡¯re inside?¡±


    Frankie shrugged, spreading his hands. ¡°That¡¯s where it gets fun. We don¡¯t have much intel on the interior. You¡¯ll have to locate the schematics on your own.¡±


    Ev¡¯s jaw tightened, her fingers drumming against her crossed arms. ¡°You mean to tell me we¡¯re going in blind?¡±


    ¡°Not totally blind,¡± Frankie said, leaning back with a grin. ¡°We¡¯ve got a man on the guard, so the vent should be clear when Jack gets there. After that, it¡¯s all on you. But hey, I¡¯ve got faith.¡±


    Ev¡¯s glare could¡¯ve melted steel. ¡°That makes one of us.¡±


    Frankie ignored her, turning back to Senna. ¡°Exit plan¡¯s simple¡ªback through the sewers or the way you came in. Your choice.¡±


    ¡°And if something goes wrong?¡± I asked, trying to sound calm but feeling the weight of the question.


    Frankie¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Well, then you improvise. That¡¯s what makes it fun, right?¡±


    Fun wasn¡¯t exactly the word I¡¯d use, but I nodded anyway.


    Senna studied the map a moment longer before rolling it up and tucking it into his jacket. ¡°We¡¯ll ride the train back if everything goes well.¡±


    ¡°If,¡± Ev muttered under her breath, shooting him a hard look.


    Excited, I focused on Frankie. ¡°So, what do I need to bring?¡±


    ¡°Just yourself, your tools, and that big ol¡¯ brain of yours,¡± Frankie said, standing up and stretching. ¡°The three of you know your parts now, eh?¡±


    I glanced at Senna, who looked confident, and Ev, who was glaring daggers.


    Frankie stood, his shadow stretching across the room. ¡°So, we agreed then? You all know your parts?¡±


    I glanced at Ev, whose eyes burned with frustration, and at Senna, who seemed resigned. Then nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t let you down.¡±

 The Heist

    The three of us stood in the darkness as the train rumbled along, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks filling the air. Nerves gnawed at my stomach, twisting tighter with every passing second. My first job. I couldn¡¯t afford to mess this up.


    Senna¡¯s hand rested lightly on my shoulder, calming me down. His voice cut through the noise, calm and firm. ¡°Just remember your part of the plan. You¡¯ll be just fine.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see his face in the darkness, but I didn¡¯t need to. I knew he was smiling¡ªthat confident grin he always wore when he wanted to put someone at ease. That thought pushed back some of the doubt creeping into my mind. Everyone¡¯s counting on me. I can¡¯t let them down.


    The train jolted slightly, and I grabbed the Senna for balance. It stopped periodically. The car doors opened every so often as people got off, revealing unfamiliar places. The hiss of brakes marking the comings and goings of passengers. Each pause stretched my nerves a little thinner, my fingers tapping lightly against my leg.


    Finally, the train slowed to a crawl. With a harsh scrape, the door was yanked open. The faint orange glow of platform lights bled into the car. My pulse quickened.


    A platform worker stood silhouetted against the light, his expression unreadable as he scanned us. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and I tensed, waiting for him to say something.


    But then his shoulders sagged, his expression shifting to one of disinterest. He waved us off with a dismissive gesture.


    We stepped onto the platform, the sound of our boots echoing faintly against the stone walls. Above the main entrance, a massive bronze face loomed, carved into the archway with an eerie precision. Its vacant eyes seemed to watch us as we passed beneath it, mirroring the disdain most people wore when they looked at us. Like we didn¡¯t belong.


    Ev and Senna moved with purpose, and I trailed closely behind, keeping my head down. The platform was sparse, a few workers and guards milling about, their voices low and hurried.


    We veered left, heading for the stairs that led to the workspace that was on the other side of the tracks forcing us to cross them.


    As we crossed the tracks, I glanced at Ev. Her hat¡ªtoo big and slightly crooked¡ªkept slipping down over her eyebrows, and every few steps, she pushed it back into place with a frustrated huff.


    The air grew thicker as we descended the stairs, a heavy blend of oil, rust, and something metallic that stung the back of my throat. The clunking and screeching of machinery grew louder, each sound sharp enough to set my teeth on edge.


    As we stepped onto the main floor, the sight that greeted us made my stomach twist.


    A handful of skinny kids worked at battered benches, their hands moving with mechanical precision as they pieced together half-broken parts. Their faces were streaked with grime, their shoulders hunched as though the weight of the air itself pressed down on them. Their movements were almost robotic¡ªefficient but lifeless. The weekend workers. They worked for no pay with double the workload.


    I swallowed hard. I¡¯d heard about them before, but seeing them like this was different. They were barely older than me, and their eyes¡ªdull and hollow¡ªseemed to stare straight through the world around them.


    Ev¡¯s jaw tightened as she took it all in, her hands curling into fists. Her whole body seemed coiled, ready to snap. She¡¯d told me once that this wasn¡¯t supposed to happen, that what they were doing here was illegal.


    But here it was.


    ¡°They¡¯re not supposed to be here,¡± she muttered, her voice low and seething. Her eyes burned as they darted from one kid to the next. ¡°They¡¯re not supposed to be here.¡±


    I glanced at Senna, hoping for reassurance, but his expression was unreadable. For once, he didn¡¯t have a quick quip or a calm grin. Instead, he stood there silently, his jaw set as he watched the scene unfold.


    Senna shook his head, disgust twisting his features, while Ev¡¯s face darkened into a grimace. The kids toiling on the floor were a grim, haunting sight¡ªcovered in sores and bruises, their limbs unnaturally thin. Some were missing fingers or ears, and one had only a stump where an arm should have been.


    My stomach churned, and I forced myself to look away. I didn¡¯t understand why they kept trying. No machine rat ever lived long enough to grow up.


    They barely noticed us as we passed, their hollow eyes glued to their work. The steady clink of tools and the mechanical hiss of steam filled the air, an unrelenting symphony of labor. Each step past them felt heavier, the silence among the three of us growing louder.


    Ahead, a set of elevators loomed, their bronze grates glinting faintly in the dim light. I¡¯d seen them before, watching adults use them from a distance, but this was the first time I¡¯d ever been close enough to touch one. The intricate mechanisms called to me, begging to be studied.


    But there wasn¡¯t time for curiosity now.


    Ev stepped forward, pressing one of the buttons. With a screech of worn metal, the bronze grate slid shut, enclosing us in the cramped space. The elevator jerked to life, and I felt a strange, disorienting sensation¡ªa mix of floating and being pulled downward all at once. My stomach flipped, but before I could process it, the ride was over.


    The grate groaned open, and what lay beyond made me freeze.


    A semi-open space stretched out before us, glowing with a warmth I¡¯d never associated with this world. A golden fountain stood at its center, water cascading down its polished surface in glittering streams. The soft hum of conversation drifted through the air, mingling with the delicate notes of a piano playing somewhere unseen.


    The people were even more surreal. Men in top hats and tailored suits, women in fine dresses that sparkled faintly under the polished lights, as though they belonged to a world untouched by grime or hardship.


    ¡°Who the fuck are these rats?¡±


    The rough voice cut through my head while I was lost in thought. Snapping me back to the moment


    Two guardsmen stepped forward, their boots echoing sharply against the smooth marble floor. They slid another bronze grate across the elevator entrance, blocking our way. Their uniforms were crisp, their buttons gleaming, but their sneering expressions carried the same disdain I¡¯d seen on every adult who looked at us for too long.


    My chest tightened as their eyes raked over us. I shot a glance at Senna and Ev, expecting panic, but neither of them seemed fazed. Senna stood relaxed, his hands tucked in his pockets, while Ev stepped forward like she owned the place.


    ¡°Foreman Bulatta wants his gun finished before tomorrow,¡± she scoffed. ¡°Now, I don¡¯t think he¡¯d be too happy to hear I couldn¡¯t get it done because a pair of guardsmen had questions.¡±


    Her confidence hit the guard closest to her like a slap. He growled low in his throat, clearly not used to being talked to like that by a kid. ¡°Piss off, then,¡± he snarled. ¡°Rats like you carry diseases.¡±


    Ev smirked, brushing past him without a second glance. She grabbed my arm, tugging me forward as Senna followed behind.


    The hallway beyond was pristine, too pristine. Every surface gleamed as if freshly polished, reflecting the warm glow of the overhead lights. The air was clean¡ªalmost unnervingly so¡ªand carried the faint scent of lavender, a sharp contrast to the world we¡¯re from.


    My gaze flicked to the doors lining the walls. Each one was marked with a golden-brown number, the paint perfectly smooth and unblemished. I wondered at their significance, my mind swirling with possibilities until we came to an abrupt stop.


    Door number 74.


    Ev shot us a sharp look before knocking briskly on the door.


    ¡°Come in!¡± called a high-pitched voice from within, unnervingly cheerful against the stillness of the hallway.


    We stepped into a narrow corridor lined with mismatched pictures. Crooked frames jutted at odd angles, cluttering the walls and shelves. Foreman Bulatta¡¯s face appeared in nearly every photo, but the grinning, wide-eyed man in the images was nearly unrecognizable. His toothy smiles felt out of place compared to the stern scowl I¡¯d seen on him in person.


    We moved into a sitting room that caught me off guard with its unexpected elegance. A green velvet couch sat near the room¡¯s center, flanked by polished side tables and a matching chair. The glow of an antique lamp cast a soft, warm light, its shade embroidered with tiny, intricate flowers.


    And then I saw her.


    A young girl, no older than twelve, lounged in the velvet chair. Her short black hair framed her expressionless face, and her pristine navy-blue dress fell in precise folds. She sat perfectly still, her posture rigid, her gaze locked on the opposite wall. There was something about her blank stare¡ªdetached and unblinking¡ªthat sent a chill up my spine.


    ¡°You brought friends,¡± she said, her monotone voice cutting cleanly through the quiet room.


    Ev stepped forward, pulling us along as she spoke. ¡°This is Senna, and this is Jack,¡± she said, gesturing between us.


    ¡°How do you do?¡± Senna asked, his attempt at a friendly smile coming off more awkward than charming.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I muttered, my gaze darting to the floor.


    The girl tilted her head slightly, a slow, deliberate motion. ¡°Hm.¡±


    Ev knelt beside her chair, gently taking the girl¡¯s small hand in her own. ¡°We¡¯re here to fix your father¡¯s jukebox,¡± she said softly. ¡°It would mean a lot if you didn¡¯t tell him they were here. We have a little sister at home, and we can¡¯t afford to lose work.¡±


    The girl¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t shift, but her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. ¡°Only if you promise to be my friend.¡±


    Ev gasped theatrically, clutching her chest. ¡°I thought we already were, Priya!¡±


    Priya¡¯s expression softened, her monotone brightening ever so slightly. ¡°Good. Then I¡¯ll break more things so Father calls you back. That way, we can talk more!¡±


    I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to groan as Ev nodded and smiled indulgently. Friends with a Ringer? Has she lost her mind?


    Senna caught my eye, his lips twitching into a smirk as if he found my frustration amusing. His jaw, though, was set tight¡­he didn¡¯t seem any happier about the situation than I was.


    The jukebox sat in the far corner, unplugged and half-dismantled. Grateful for the distraction, I walked over, crouching beside it to inspect the damage. Senna followed, leaning against the wall and pretending to help.


    I glanced toward him, raising a brow as I gestured toward Priya. His shrug was subtle, his smirk teasing as if to say, Good luck figuring her out.


    Behind us, Ev and Priya¡¯s voices grew softer, drifting toward trivial topics about boys and school. My gaze flicked back to Priya occasionally, watching her far-off stare and the stillness of her posture. A question surfaced unbidden: Is she blind? Her lack of reaction to movement and her focus on nothing made me wonder.


    The jukebox¡¯s issue was simple: a missing spring in the claw mechanism. It was tedious but straightforward¡ªsomething Ev could have fixed days ago if she hadn¡¯t been dragging her feet. My thoughts wandered briefly to Serrani and the concert tonight before I shook them away and refocused.


    Once I screwed the final panel into place, Senna plugged the machine back into the wall. The jukebox flickered to life, its neon lights casting colorful patterns that danced across the room.


    Ev turned back to Priya, her tone warm and light. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re done. Sorry, Princess, but we have to get going.¡±


    Priya¡¯s cheerful demeanor dimmed, her lips tugging into a faint pout. ¡°You¡¯ll come back, right?¡±


    Ev patted her arm gently. ¡°Of course. Keep working on your father, and I¡¯ll see you soon. I can¡¯t wait to hear more about your school.¡±


    Priya¡¯s smile returned, brighter this time. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡±


    As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, I spun on Ev.


    ¡°Friends with a Ringer?¡± I hissed. ¡°Are you insane?¡±


    Ev smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Jealous of my non-criminal choice of friend?¡±


    Before I could fire back, Senna stepped between us, his voice low and firm. ¡°Save it for later. Focus. We¡¯re still on the job.¡±


    We moved in silence, the tension between us heavy as we descended into the dimly lit spare parts room. Back on the main floor, we took a sharp right, heading toward a bathroom. Once out of sight, we slipped into a dimly lit spare parts room with ease. I guess security is light on the weekends.


    Senna wasted no time finding the grate. He knelt down, his hands deftly undoing the screws before sliding it aside with a quiet scrape. ¡°You¡¯re up, Jack,¡± he murmured, nodding toward the opening.


    I took a deep breath and dropped in first, my boots hitting the cold, damp floor with a muted thud. The chill seeped through my soles. Moments later, Ev followed, landing lightly beside me, and Senna brought up the rear. The stench hit immediately¡­stale water mixed with oil and decay. It was rancid, but nothing we hadn¡¯t endured before.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Dim green lights mounted along the slick walls cast an eerie glow, stretching shadows that flickered as we moved. The air felt heavy, damp, and oppressive.


    Before I could move, Senna held up a hand, his face unusually serious. ¡°Alright, listen up,¡± he said, pulling out the crumpled map from his pocket. ¡°From here, it¡¯s going to be a long walk¡­few hours at least.¡±


    ¡°Hours?¡± I groaned. ¡°Are you sure there¡¯s not some shortcut you¡¯re hiding from us?¡±


    Senna smirked, the flickering green light catching the edge of his grin. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s always a shortcut Jack. But shortcuts get you caught¡ªor worse.¡±


    Ev adjusted her hat, ¡°Just stick to the plan and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± I nodded, my nerves stilled. I was starting to worry I might screw things up.


    Ev smirked,  ¡°Come on, let¡¯s move before we meet some of our rat siblings. I¡¯m not a fan of family reunions.¡±


    The three of us walked on, the sewers stretching endlessly before us. The dim, flickering lights overhead cast eerie reflections on the water pooling beneath the grated walkway. Shadows danced along the walls.


    Senna kept the mood light, cracking jokes and teasing me about my nerves. ¡°You know, after this job, I¡¯ll teach you how to be a great husband for the little lady.¡± he said, grinning over his shoulder. ¡°Assuming you survive today, of course.¡±


    ¡°Ha-ha,¡± I grumbled, rolling my eyes. ¡°Very funny.¡±


    Ev shot him a sideways look, her brow furrowing slightly. ¡°You should stop teasing him, Senna. It¡¯s his first real job. Let him focus.¡±


    ¡°I-I agree!¡± I said, trying to ignore the heat rushing to my face.


    Senna chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯ll save the teasing for later.¡±


    We walked for what seemed like forever. The oppressive silence of the sewers broken only by our footsteps and the occasional creak of the metal walkways. Every so often, I caught Senna glancing back at me, his expression unreadable.


    Eventually, Senna stopped, holding up a hand to signal us. ¡°This is it,¡± he said, gesturing toward a ladder that led upward. The faint glow of the blue sky beyond the towering buildings filtered through the grate above, casting fractured light onto the damp walls.


    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked, his eyes scanning both of us for hesitation.


    Ev adjusted her hat, a determined glint in her eyes. ¡°Ready.¡±


    I nodded, swallowing hard. ¡°Ready as I¡¯ll ever be.¡±


    Senna smiled, the kind of smile that made you believe everything was going to be alright. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    He began climbing the ladder, his movements steady and deliberate. I followed close behind, with Ev bringing up the rear. The ascent was silent except for the faint creak of metal under our weight. When we clambered out at the top, we found ourselves in a back alley, shielded from the main streets by the towering walls of massive buildings, the air was cooler and cleaner than I was used to. It felt alien against my skin, too fresh for the world I knew.


    I paused, taking it all in. The contrast was jarring. This part of the city was pristine¡ªcleaner than anywhere I¡¯d ever been. Even the cobblestones beneath my feet seemed polished. Looking up at the towering buildings surrounding us, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a familiar weight pressing down on me, a reminder of how small we really were in this world.


    ¡°Jack. Vent,¡± Senna¡¯s hushed voice cutting through my distraction.


    Focus, Jack. Across the alley, I spotted the vent Senna had pointed to¡ªa small, rectangular opening nestled low on the wall, just big enough for me to squeeze through.


    Without a word, Senna crouched, bracing himself as I climbed onto his shoulders. Ev stood watch, her sharp eyes scanning the alley for any sign of trouble. The weight of the task settled on me as I worked, carefully unscrewing the bolts that held the vent in place. My hands trembled slightly, but I steadied them. When the last screw came loose, I pulled the grate free and handed it down to Ev


    I took a deep breath. This was it. No more rehearsals, no more room for second-guessing.


    Remember your part.


    The elevator shaft was the first obstacle. I hoisted myself into the vent, the cramped space immediately closing in around me. The sound of Senna sliding the vent grate back into place echoed faintly behind me, and for a moment, I hesitated. That sound might as well have been a door locking¡ªa one-way ticket. No way back now.


    The vent system was a twisting, claustrophobic maze. Dead ends loomed unexpectedly. My muscles strained as I twisted and stretched, inching forward with every agonizing movement. The metal walls brushing against my arms as I wormed my way in. The air inside was stifling, the recycled smell of dust and machinery. My knees scraped against the metal as I crawled forward, the sound of my movements echoing faintly in the confined space.


    I was focusing on what senna told me before he closed the grate ¡°First grate, straight ahead you can''t miss it¡±, frustration was starting to bubble inside me. What damn grate?


    I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. Keep moving, Jack. They¡¯re counting on you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I spotted it¡ªa small, rectangular opening on the floor of the vent. Relief surged through me as I unscrewed the grate, but the moment was short-lived. The grate slipped from my hands, falling for a for seconds before landing with a loud thud, the noise reverberating through the elevator shaft like a gunshot.


    I froze, my heart pounding against my ribs as I held my breath. Don¡¯t move. Don¡¯t breathe.


    After a moment, I dared to peek through the opening. My stomach dropped. The shaft stretched into an endless void, shadows swallowing the bottom far beyond what I could see. The bottom was obscured in shadow, and the faint glint of cables and gears only added to the dizzying height.


    This is fine. Totally fine. I thought to myself sarcastically


    I scanned the area, my eyes darting over the machinery and cables crisscrossing the shaft. My gaze landed on a set of wires running vertically down the opposite wall. They were thick enough to hold my weight¡ªprobably.


    ¡°Frankie¡¯s got a lot of explaining to do when we get back,¡± I said, biting back a curse.


    Stripping off my shirt, I wrapped it around my hands to protect them from the coarse metal. Taking a deep breath, I reached my arms out from the vent, gripping the wire tightly.  As I began my descent the strain on my arms was immediate, a fiery ache spreading through my shoulders


    The fall wasn¡¯t smooth. The vibrations from the wire buzzed against my palms, and the friction threatened to tear through the fabric of my makeshift gloves. When my feet hit the ground, my legs buckled, numb from the jarring impact. I stumbled, gasping for air as I shook off the ache.


    I staggered slightly, shaking out the tingling sensation in my limbs. ¡°Well, that could¡¯ve gone worse,¡± I groaned to my thin legs who gave me a sharp reminder to never do that again as I took my first step.


    The shaft was eerily quiet now, the distant hum of machinery the only sound. I spotted the ladder a few feet away, its semi-rusted rungs glinting faintly in the dim light. At least this part of the plan was accurate.


    I slipped my shirt back on getting ready to begin climbing when I felt nothing hit my back. I took it off and noticed that I no longer had a shirt to put on; it had been torn to nothing. ¡°And now there goes my last shirt.¡± I said with a weary sigh.


    I began climbing, each step a battle against the growing fatigue in my arms. My muscles screamed in protest, but I pushed through, focusing on the rhythm of my movements.


    Up and up, rung by rung, until finally, I reached the top. A new grate greeted me, its bolts glinting in the faint light. Resting against the ladder for a moment, I caught my breath, wiping the sweat from my brow.


    Frankie made it sound so easy.


    I quickly unscrewed the grate, and tossed it into the darkness below. The sound of it clattering against the shaft walls sent a faint thrill of satisfaction through me. Steeling myself, I heaved my aching body into the vent. My muscles protested with each movement, the earlier climb taking its toll. I allowed myself a brief pause, leaning against the cool metal of the vent as I continued to catch my breath.


    Please, no pits of fire next, I thought wryly, forcing myself to move again.


    I crawled onward, the tight confines of the vent forcing me to twist and maneuver awkwardly. Remembering Frankie¡¯s plan, I stuck to the right at every fork. The silence in the vent felt oppressive, broken only by the faint scrape of my movements and my own shallow breathing. The tension of not knowing what lay ahead gnawed at me.


    Finally, I reached another grate. No hidden death trap? You¡¯ve really outdone yourself this time, Frankie. With a faint grunt, I pushed it open and crawled out, stretching my sore limbs as I took in my surroundings.


    The room before me was nothing short of breathtaking. Expensive looking furniture gleamed under the soft, warm light. Rich purple fabrics draped across the room like banners of royalty. The sheer wealth displayed here was staggering, a declaration of power and privilege. My eyes darted around, taking in gilded mirrors, intricate chandeliers, and hand-carved shelves lined with ornate trinkets.


    My awe faded into confusion as I scratched my head, glancing around the opulent room. Who even lives like this? And where¡¯s the balcony? The plush carpet muffled my steps as I moved cautiously. Randomly choosing a door, I pushed it open and stepped into an equally lavish bedroom, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and gilded trim. The centerpiece was a massive bed, its canopy adorned with fine lace.


    Across the room, glass doors led to a balcony. Relief flooded me as I spotted Senna and Ev sitting against the doors, their forms illuminated faintly by the daylight beyond. I tapped the glass, watching them jump before unlocking the door. They whipped around, their stiff expressions softening upon recognition.


    Senna ruffled my hair with a grin. ¡°I knew you could do it.¡±


    I chuckled sheepishly, ¡°Well, there were a few problems¡­ but nothing I couldn¡¯t handle.¡±


    Senna raised a skeptical eyebrow noticing my lack of shirt, but didn¡¯t press further. Instead, he surveyed the room with a calculating gaze. ¡°If you handled them, then there¡¯s nothing to worry about,¡± he said absently, his eyes darting to every corner of the room.


    Meanwhile, Ev wasted no time, rushing to the nearest drawer and yanking it open. She rifled through its contents with efficiency, moving on to the next without hesitation.


    I scoffed, gesturing to the extravagance surrounding us. ¡°These ringers live like kings while we fight for scraps.¡± It¡¯s likely that whomever lived here was a member of the Argent Council. A bunch of big shot ringers that control Remfall.


    Ev paused, her expression hardening as she glanced at me over her shoulder. ¡°Just because you can¡¯t see it, doesn¡¯t mean they don¡¯t have their own struggles. Not every Ringer is the same.¡±


    Her words grated on me. ¡°I wonder where that comes from,¡± I shot back, my glare accusatory.


    Ev¡¯s face twisted in frustration, her nostrils flaring as she slammed a drawer shut. ¡°Must you always have such a grim outlook on everything?!¡± she snapped, her voice trembling with anger.


    She closed her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. When she opened them again, her tone was calmer but still sharp. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this.¡±


    Senna stepped between us, his hands raised as if to physically hold the peace. ¡°Ev¡¯s right. I have no idea how long we have. I should¡¯ve asked Frankie more questions before we left. Time might not be on our side.¡±


    He turned toward the door, cracking it open just enough to peer into the hallway beyond. His expression stayed neutral, but his voice carried urgency when he spoke again. ¡°Jack, did you see much of this place on your way here?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, I came straight here as fast as I could.¡±


    Senna nodded, his jaw tightening. ¡°Right. Let¡¯s split up. Scour the place quickly. Search every drawer, cabinet, box¡ªanything that might give us a clue. Meet back here in half an hour.¡±


    With a final glance between us, he gave a curt nod, signaling us to get moving.


    Ev adjusted her hat before taking a sharp right, vanishing into another room. The clatter of drawers being yanked open and the crash of glass breaking followed almost immediately. I winced. Could she make any more noise?


    The room beside hers was yet another shrine to wealth. Gold filigree and deep purple velvet adorned nearly every surface. I turned toward the left and spotted a pair of ornate double doors at the end of a short hallway. My curiosity got the better of me, so I slipped through them, leaving Senna behind.


    The hallway beyond was quieter, the sound of Ev¡¯s racket fading behind me. Portraits lined the walls, their subjects unfamiliar yet dressed in the kind of finery that practically screamed importance. TTheir painted eyes seemed to follow me as I made my way down the corridor.


    At the end of the hallway stood a single ornate door,  its golden handle gleaming in the low light. I hesitated for a moment before pulling it open. A cool breeze swept past me, carrying with it a faint, unpleasant scent¡ªwet dog. My nose wrinkled as I opened the door wider.


    ¡°Whoa¡­¡± The word slipped out as I stepped into the room.


    It was a workshop, unlike anything I¡¯d seen before. A massive, semi-circular table dominated the center, cluttered with vials of vividly colored liquids in odd-shaped glass containers. The left wall was entirely covered by a sprawling two-story library, its shelves crammed with books and scrolls that looked older than the Sanctum itself. To the right, an intricate web of copper and brass pipes twisted and coiled toward the table, their metallic surfaces etched with strange, runic symbols that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light.


    I approached the machine at the table¡¯s center, drawn to the array of buttons and levers embedded in its base. My fingers hovered over them, but I hesitated, the chill running down my spine warning me against touching anything. Weird markings etched into the tubes caught my attention¡ªsymbols I didn¡¯t recognize, but they seemed deliberate, purposeful.


    A soft breeze brushed the back of my neck. I turned, noticing another door tucked into the corner. Following the draft, I pushed it open and found myself in a quaint office. The scent of wet dog was stronger here, clinging to the air like a warning. Trinkets and oddities decorated the room, each one meticulously placed. But my focus was drawn to the back, where a pair of elevator doors stood like a silent sentinel.


    A single lever to call the elevator rested beside them, slick with grease. The smell was almost overpowering now. Glancing down, I noticed faint, wet tracks leading from the elevator and back into the workshop.


    My stomach knotted. Is someone still here?


    I swallowed hard, taking one last look around the office before slipping back into the hallway. My steps quickened as my mind raced. Senna and Ev could be in trouble. I had to warn them.


    The worst-case scenarios swirled in my head as I approached the bedroom door. Shattering glass and gunshots pierced the air, followed by the screech of bending metal. My heart leapt into my throat.


    Before I could open the door, it swung wide. Senna and Ev staggered out, both panting and battered. Ev¡¯s crimson hair was tangled and caked with dirt, her clothes torn and bloodied. The hat I¡¯d made her was gone. Senna¡¯s wild eyes locked onto me as he scanned for injuries, his gun trembling in his hand.


    ¡°Senna, what¡¯s going on?¡± I managed to stammer, fear tightening my throat.


    He rushed toward me, pulling me into a quick, desperate hug before holding me at arm¡¯s length. His wild eyes searched me for any sign of injury. When he saw I was unharmed, he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. ¡°We were attacked,¡± he said grimly. ¡°Some half-metal dog. Bullets barely slowed it down, but we managed to shove it off the balcony.¡±


    Ev disappeared into the room, returning a moment later with her hat in hand. She offered me a weak smile that couldn¡¯t hide her exhaustion. ¡°Jack, did you find another way out? These things came from the elevator. We¡¯re cornered unless there¡¯s another exit.¡±


    ¡°T-there¡¯s another elevator,¡± I stammered, my voice shaking. ¡°In a room next to some kind of lab. I think the blueprints might be there.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for that,¡± Senna said firmly. ¡°We need to leave¡ªnow. Do you remember where the elevator is?¡±


    I nodded, giving them the directions as succinctly as I could.


    Senna opened his mouth to respond, but a bone-chilling, high-pitched noise froze all of us in place. At the far end of the hallway, a half-metal dog emerged, its jaws snapping. The lower half of its face was a grotesque blend of flesh and jagged metal, saliva dripping from its razor-sharp teeth.


    The noise came again, louder this time. A much larger creature stalked into view behind the first. It was a monstrosity, with two vertical glowing red eyes on each side of its grotesque head and six more on its snout. Its lips curled into a feral snarl, jagged teeth gnashing as saliva pooled and dripped to the floor. Its black fur gleamed unnaturally under the lights, its massive frame radiating raw power.


    I froze, paralyzed by fear as the larger beast¡¯s gaze locked onto me. Its fangs glinted as it snarled, and my mind went blank, unable to process anything beyond the primal terror coursing through me.


    I barely registered the faint shout before I was violently shoved aside. Ev grabbed my arm and hauled me away just as the smaller dog lunged. Its roar echoed down the corridor as I stumbled forward. Glancing back, I saw Senna standing firm, his gun raised as he faced the monstrous black beast.


    Senna always has a plan, I told myself, clinging desperately to the thought as Ev dragged me toward the workshop.

 The Promise Broken

    We tore through the halls, the dog a relentless shadow at our backs. The damn thing wouldn¡¯t be easy to shake¡ªnot even if I were alone, and now I had Jack to worry about.


    I spared him a glance. His face was twisted with something¡­was that excitement? No. Adrenaline. He always reacted to danger in ways I couldn¡¯t understand.


    We burst into a room filled with trees, the scent of damp earth and leaves hitting me like a slap. If not for the death hound on our heels, I might¡¯ve marveled at the sight¡­a pocket of untouched nature hidden within this gilded prison. But there was no time for wonder.


    I grabbed Jack¡¯s wrist and yanked him up into the nearest tree. He barely had time to scramble onto the thick branch before I followed. From up here, we had a clear view of the room¡­every door visible beneath us, every possible escape route laid bare.


    The dog entered, its movements eerily controlled. It paused just inside the doorway, scanning the space with methodical precision. Its mechanical eyes flickered as it sniffed the air, head tilting in an almost calculated manner. The soft whir of gears accompanied each step as it moved deeper, its gaze sweeping the room with an unsettling patience. It slowed, sniffing the air, its mechanical jaw clicking softly as the gears inside whirred. Jack and I held our breath.


    It let out a low, distorted growl before retracing its steps. Seconds stretched like hours as it hesitated at the threshold, scanning the room one last time before slipping out.


    My shoulders sagged, relief short-lived. It would come back.


    I swallowed, gripping the brim of my hat, fingers pressing into the worn fabric. I needed a plan¡ªfast. My mind spun through every option, every possibility, but then... a memory surfaced.


    Jack¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, brimming with pride. "Press here," he had said, tapping the emblem on the front¡ªan elegant, polished ''E.'' "It¡¯s subtle, but deadly."


    The memory bled into the present as my fingers found the emblem, pressing down without hesitation.


    With a quiet click, the hidden blade extended from the brim, catching the dim light. I exhaled slowly.


    A large moss-covered rock sat below us, a perfect spot to strike.


    ¡°Jack,¡± I whispered, keeping my voice steady, ¡°I have a plan. I need you to lead that thing over there. I need a clean throw.¡±


    Jack¡¯s eyes flicked between the rock and my hat, uncertainty shadowing his face. His fingers twitched, shoulders tight with hesitation. He swallowed hard, finally meeting my gaze with a mixture of fear and fragile trust. ¡°You won¡¯t let it get me, right?¡± His voice was barely above a breath. ¡°You won¡¯t leave me?¡±


    ¡°I would never leave you.¡± I forced a reassuring smile and pinched his cheek lightly, the way I used to when we were younger. His lips quivered in a nervous grin, but his eyes still held doubt.


    ¡°Stand with your back to the rock,¡± I instructed. ¡°When I say move, dive away.¡±


    He nodded, though his hands clenched at his sides. Then, with a deep breath, he hopped down from the tree, landing with a crunch of leaves. The sound snapped the dog''s attention back into the room,


    The dog reentered, nose to the ground, following his scent with mechanical precision. Jack went rigid when the creature''s ears twitched as it zeroed in on him. Its low, rumbling growl vibrating through the space. It prowled forward, slow and deliberate, lowering into a predatory stance.


    I held my breath. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs as I rose to a crouch, arm pulled back, muscles coiled like a spring.


    Just a little closer¡­


    Now!


    "Jack, move!" I shouted, flinging the hat with all my strength.


    Jack hurled himself to the ground just as the hound pounced. My hat struck the back of its skull, sparks bursting as the blade embedded deep into its plating-but it didn''t go all the way through.


    The beast slammed head first into the rock with a sickening crunch, its metal limbs twitching and convulsing, gears grinding in a painful shriek. A garbled, snarl tore from its throat as it staggered, shaking violently to dislodge the weapon buried in its head.


    I jumped down without hesitation. My boots hit the dirt just as the creature made a last, desperate lunge, its mechanical jaws snapping inches from my leg. I twisted away, yanking my hat free with a wet, scraping sound. Its edge was slick with oil and some black substance.


    With a sharp inhale, I tightened my grip and drove the razor-edged brim into its throat, severing the last of its still-functioning components.


    The beast collapsed in a heap of broken metal and sparking wires, its body twitching once before going completely still.


    I exhaled, my breath ragged, shoulders burning from the tension. Jack stared at me, his wide eyes flickering between horror and awe.


    "That was pretty awesome, Ev," he muttered, still catching his breath.


    I let out a short laugh and ruffled his hair before retrieving my hat, shaking off the blood and bits of flesh. Just how sharp had Jack made this thing? Had he overdone it, or was I only now realizing how dangerous his work had become? The weight of it in my hands felt different now-heavier. more lethal.


    I tucked the thought away, gripping Jack¡¯s wrist as we bolted out of the room and into the hallway. Our footsteps echoed against the cold, metallic walls, hearts pounding like war drums. The dim, flickering lights cast long shadows, distorting the shapes around us as we raced forward, each breath tight with urgency.


    We turned a corner, the corridor stretching endlessly ahead...then stopped dead.


    The air hit us like a wall, thick with the stench of blood and scorched metal. A faint, unsettling hum lingered, vibrating through the ruined space, as if the room itself was still catching its breath from whatever nightmare had unfolded here.


    Senna was gone.


    The room was wrecked. Furniture lay in shreds, deep claw marks gouged into the walls. The trail of destruction stretched down the hall¡­the same path Jack and I had fled through moments ago.


    Jack¡¯s voice came small, hesitant. ¡°Ev¡­ is Senna¡­?¡±


    I squeezed his hand, gripping it tight. ¡°He¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s get home and meet him there, yeah?¡±


    Jack yanked away from me. ¡°We can¡¯t leave Senna. We don¡¯t leave our own behind.¡±


    His glare cut through me, sharper than any blade. I reached for him, but he stepped back. His whole body trembled¡­whether from fear or anger, I couldn¡¯t tell but his eyes burned with defiance.


    ¡°Jack, just listen¡ª¡±


    ¡°No.¡± His voice was raw, cracking under the weight of the moment.


    I clenched my jaw. ¡°This is what Senna wanted.¡± My voice felt tight, strained. ¡°He made me promise to take care of you. If you go back now, he will have sacrificed himself for nothing.¡±


    A memory flickered¡ªSenna and I rummaging through drawers in a dimly lit chamber, dust swirling in the weak glow of our lantern. The air had been thick with tension, every creak of wood sending a shiver down my spine. Then, the beast struck.


    It had come from nowhere, a blur of muscle and malice. Senna had shoved me behind a toppled cabinet, gun raised, jaw set. "If something happens to me, you take Jack and run," he had said, voice like steel even as blood trickled down his temple.


    The memory dissolved, snapping me back to the present..


    I looked into Jack''s eyes. I could see the war raging inside him, the desperate need to believe me clashing with the unbearable weight of what that meant we''d have to do


    For a second, I thought he might listen.


    Then, he turned and ran.


    ¡°Jack, no!¡± I lunged after him, but he was fast¡ªtoo fast.


    He veered down a long hallway, slipping through a doorway torn apart by the beasts. Deep claw marks raked across the doorframe, the metal warped like it had been gripped by something impossibly strong.


    My breath stalled. A cold dread crept down my spine as I ran inside looking for Jack.


    My stomach dropped.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Senna stood atop a bookshelf, battered and bleeding, his breaths ragged as he shouted, desperate to keep the beast¡¯s attention. It looked like he had scrambled up there in a last-ditch effort to evade its snapping jaws. His stance was unsteady, but his voice remained strong. Across the room, Jack moved frantically, his eyes scanning the machinery, searching for anything that could tip the scales.


    He yanked a lever, then another. The glow of the tubes flared in response, eerie symbols flickering to life as a deep hum rattled through the space. Strange metallic conduits pulsed with energy, feeding into the half-circle table at the room¡¯s center. Shattered glass littered its surface, vividly colored liquids seeping into a dark, viscous pool that spread across the floor. A murky black substance, laced with veins of pulsing purple, twisted like something alive.


    Senna¡¯s gaze locked onto mine. For the first time, I saw it¡ªthe raw, aching helplessness behind his eyes. His lips parted as if to say something, but they had came muffled to my ears


    I had promised him. And I had failed him.


    I¡¯m sorry, Senna. I really tried.


    His jaw tightened, shaking off whatever words had been lingering on his tongue. ¡°Ev, my gun¡¯s behind me, but I can¡¯t get to it!¡±


    I forced myself to focus, scanning the room for something¡ªanything¡ªwe could use.


    A sudden blur of motion¡ªtoo fast. Jack lunged toward the table¡¯s center, his breath ragged, his hands desperate.


    My stomach lurched.


    ¡°Jack, stop!¡±


    The words barely left my lips before he reached it.


    Too late.


    Jack¡¯s breath came in ragged gasps as he snatched two metal pipes, his hands trembling. He cast a desperate glance at Senna¡ªthen slammed them together. The sharp clang rang through the room, cutting through the hum of machinery like a desperate battle cry. It wasn¡¯t a plan. It wasn¡¯t strategy. It was panic, pure and unthinking, a last-ditch effort to turn the beast¡¯s attention away from Senna.


    It worked.


    The hound¡¯s head snapped toward Jack, its glowing eyes locking onto him with predatory precision. Then it lunged.


    Senna sprang from the bookshelf, his voice raw as he bellowed Jack¡¯s name. I launched forward, every step heavy, like running through quicksand. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the chaos around me. My hat was already airborne before I could think, my arm snapping forward with every ounce of strength I had.


    "Jack, move!"


    The angle was wrong. The realization hit me like ice. The hat sailed past the beast¡¯s shoulder, slicing metal and flesh but failing to stop the inevitable.


    The beast hit him like a battering ram. The impact sent them both crashing into the stone table. Glass and metal shattered, exploding outward in jagged shards. The creature skidded from the force, momentarily dazed, but Jack¡ªJack¡ª


    He lay sprawled, motionless.


    Blood pooled beneath him, spilling in dark rivulets across the cracked stone. A gash tore across his back, deep and gaping, his small frame unnaturally still.


    My stomach twisted into knots so tight I thought I might snap in half.


    I had failed.


    Senna¡¯s roar ripped through the air.


    The beast snarled, dragging itself upright, its fangs dripping with saliva and blood. Senna raised his gun, hands shaking so violently I thought he might drop it.


    ¡°Shoot it!¡± I screamed.


    Two shots rang out, slamming into the beast¡¯s head, sending it reeling back with a guttural snarl. Senna¡¯s grip tightened as he pulled the trigger again¡ª


    Click. Click.


    His face paled. His breath gasped.


    "It¡¯s jammed!"


    The monster shook itself, blood seeping from the wounds but not enough to stop it. With a guttural snarl, it lunged.


    Senna hurled the useless gun at its face before throwing himself to the side, but it was too late. The beast¡¯s jaws closed around him.


    His scream tore through the room, raw and agonizing, echoing in a way that made my skin crawl. It wasn¡¯t just pain¡ªit was the sound of something breaking, something being torn away.


    I couldn¡¯t move.


    I couldn¡¯t breathe.


    I was watching my world collapse.


    A muffled crack echoed through the room, the unmistakable sound of splintering bone beneath crushing weight.


    Two small holes leaked blood down the beast¡¯s head. Its body stiffened¡­then collapsed, twitching as the last remnants of life drained from its mechanical limbs.


    I didn¡¯t care.


    I was already running.


    I dropped to my knees beside Senna, my trembling hands grasping at his broken body, trying to pull him free, trying to piece him back together.


    "No, no, no! Stay with me, damn it! You hear me? You don¡¯t get to leave me like this!"


    Senna groaned, his body wracked with tremors, blood dribbling from the corner of his lips. Too much blood. His breath hitched, shallow and ragged.


    "Frankie¡­ that bastard¡­ should¡¯ve known¡­" He tried to chuckle, but it barely came out¡ªa thin, rasping wheeze. Another cough rattled through him, crimson spattering his chin. His grip trembled as he turned his head slightly, his gaze drifting to the beast¡¯s lifeless form.


    "Not¡­ half bad¡­"


    His hand twitched, lifting toward my face. His fingers barely brushed my cheek before faltering, too weak to hold on. He tried to smile, but the effort drained him.


    "Ev¡­ keep him¡ª"


    The words cut off. A sharp breath hitched in his throat, then silence. His eyes, once burning with defiance, softened¡ªfading like a dying ember. His fingers twitched, grasping at my hand. Then, with a final, shuddering exhale, he stilled.


    I sucked in a breath, waiting. Waiting for him to finish. Waiting for one last word, one last breath¡ªany sign that this wasn¡¯t happening.


    But there was nothing.


    Senna was gone.


    A strangled sound caught in my throat, something between a sob and a gasp. My hands clenched into fists as I stared down at Senna, willing him to move, to breathe¡ªto prove me wrong. The world blurred, my pulse a deafening drum in my ears. He was just here, just fighting, just promising¡ª


    Gone.


    My breath hitched, chest caving under the weight of grief. I wanted to scream, to tear apart the walls, to rewind time to a moment where this wasn¡¯t real. But reality was cruel, and the cold truth settled in like ice in my veins.


    A groan pulled my attention away.


    Jack stirred beneath the rubble, his small frame trembling, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. His body was twisted unnaturally, pinned by shattered debris, his skin slick with blood. Dark, murky liquid¡ªnot his¡ªseeped from his wounds, the same vile substance pooling from the creature Senna had killed.


    His voice cracked. "It hurts¡­" His fingers weakly clawed at the rubble, trying to move, but the effort sent fresh pain wracking through his broken frame. Too much pain. Too much blood.


    Then, his swollen eyes met mine, filled with something fragile¡ªhope, desperation, or maybe just the last remnants of innocence clinging on for dear life.


    "Ev¡­ is Senna okay?"


    I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. The words wouldn''t form, trapped behind the crushing weight in my chest.


    I couldn¡¯t speak. I couldn¡¯t move. I could only stare at him, my throat closing, my hands shaking as the truth clawed its way into my mind. Senna was gone. Jack was barely holding on. And I¡ª


    I had failed them both.


    The barking echoed down the hall¡ªcloser, louder. More were coming. The vibrations trembled beneath my fingers, a steady, approaching doom. My body locked up, caught between instinct and the unbearable thought of leaving him behind.


    I had to move. I had to act.


    But I couldn¡¯t.


    My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms as my breath came in short, ragged gasps.


    Was this cowardice or survival?


    Every instinct screamed at me to run, but the weight of my failure pinned me in place. Maybe I could stay. Maybe I could fight. But the distant snarls grew into guttural howls, and the tremors in the floor made the decision for me. If I stayed, we both died.


    I looked down at Jack, my chest tightening. His face was pale, streaked with sweat, his breaths short and uneven. The dark liquid seeping into his wounds was pulsing. He was barely holding on.


    Then his eyes found mine.


    Hope... He still believed I would save him.


    My hands trembled as I set my hat beside him, fingers lingering on the brim¡­as if that single gesture could make up for what I was about to do.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whispered.


    Tears spilled down his cheeks, his entire body convulsing with sobs. "Don¡¯t leave me! Please! Ev, please!"


    His hands shot out, weakly grasping at my sleeve, his fingers slipping as he tried to hold on. "You said¡ªyou said you wouldn¡¯t leave me!"


    My stomach twisted. Everything in me screamed to stay. To find another way. But there was no other way. The snarls were too close, the tremors shaking the ground beneath us.


    "I¡¯m sorry," I choked out, my voice cracking as I forced my feet to move.


    "Ev!" His cries turned frantic, shrill with desperation. "I don¡¯t wanna die! Please! Ev, don¡¯t¡ª"


    His voice broke as I stepped away, his sobs turning to ragged gasps. The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was his outstretched hand, trembling, reaching¡ªbegging.


    I ran down the hall, Jack¡¯s cries fading behind me, each desperate plea carving deeper into my chest. My breath came in ragged gasps as I forced my legs to move, to carry me away from the wreckage I had left behind. The walls blurred past me, the flickering lights casting jagged shadows that seemed to reach for me like accusing hands.


    I stumbled into the office, my hands shaking violently as I gripped the elevator lever. My vision swam, Jack¡¯s and Senna¡¯s faces burned into my mind like scars. A strangled scream tore from my throat as I yanked the lever, the weight of my betrayal crushing me.


    Why did this happen?


    Why was the world so unfair?


    A faint shuffle behind me sent a chill down my spine, breaking through the haze of exhaustion clouding my mind. The sound was subtle, almost hesitant¡ªlike something testing the air, waiting for the perfect moment. My pulse stuttered. I barely had time to turn, to react, before something struck the back of my head. A burst of pain shot through my skull, white-hot and searing, then¡ª


    Darkness.


    A rasping chuckle slithered through the void, low and jagged, like rusted metal scraping against stone. The darkness around me seemed to pulse with it, as if the very air carried the weight of its malice.


    ¡°Well, ain¡¯t you a little bundle of joy?¡±

 Buried Embers

    Jack¡¯s voice echoed through the darkness.


    ¡°Ev¡­ why did you leave me?¡±


    I turned, but he wasn¡¯t there. Just endless black, thick and sticky, swallowing my feet like tar. I tried to run, but the ground pulled me down, suffocating me, drowning me. A cold hand clamped around my wrist¡ª


    ¡°Eveline, wake up! You¡¯re having another bad dream!¡±


    My body jerked before I even registered the voice. The sheets clung to my damp skin, my breath caught in my throat, and my pulse pounded against my ribs. My fingers curled into the mattress, grounding myself in the present. This room. This house. Not there.


    Dim morning light bled through the silk-draped windows, dust motes dancing lazily in the golden glow. The scent of fresh linen and expensive perfumes lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the sweat clinging to my skin. Slowly, the haze lifted, and Ariya¡¯s worried face swam into view.


    I exhaled sharply, pushing her away, strands of my hair sticking to my damp forehead.


    That dream again. It was supposed to be buried.


    It had been a while since the nightmares last surfaced. I had learned to suppress them, to shove them so deep down they couldn¡¯t claw their way back. But now, here they were again, slipping through the cracks.


    I ran a shaky hand through my hair and forced a weak smile. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± My voice was hoarse. Lying came easier than the truth.


    Ariya didn¡¯t buy it. ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± she murmured. ¡°That¡¯s why you looked like you were about to stop breathing in your sleep.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond. What was there to say? I forced my body to move, pulling myself upright. The sheets slid off me, damp from sweat.


    Ariya sighed, crossing her arms. ¡°Look, just get up, okay? I don¡¯t wanna be late on the first day. Mother would kill us both.¡±


    I puffed up my cheeks as I exhaled, blowing my hair out of my face. The weight in my chest hadn¡¯t left, but I shoved it aside. I couldn¡¯t afford to let the past bleed into the present. Not here. Not now.


    Rolling out of bed, I stripped off my nightclothes as I headed toward the bathroom. ¡°I¡¯m taking a shower. If I¡¯m not there when Cy and them show up, leave without me. I don¡¯t want Mother yelling at you on my account.¡±


    Ariya muttered something under her breath, but I didn¡¯t hear it. The bathroom door shut behind me, locking out the world.


    I stepped under the scalding water, letting it burn away the remnants of the dream. My hands braced against the shower wall, steam curling around me. Senna¡¯s lifeless eyes. Jack¡¯s pleading face. Mae¡¯s broken body.


    Gone. They were gone.


    My breath shuddered as I tried to push the memories away, focusing instead on the day ahead. The water pounded against my skin, drowning out the ghosts whispering in my ears. Eventually, they faded back into the silence.


    Stepping out, I found my school uniform neatly laid out on the bed. A crisp white collared button-up, long sleeves pressed to perfection, black trousers, and an ugly brown vest.


    Seriously, who thought this color was a good idea?


    I stared at it for a moment before sighing. Five years, and still, I felt like I was wearing a costume. Like I didn¡¯t belong.


    But I¡¯d gotten good at pretending.


    Now dressed, I stood before the mirror on my dresser, running a brush through my hair. My bangs had grown long, falling past my belly button in sleek, inky strands, while the rest barely brushed my shoulders. I worked through the familiar motions, fingers weaving and twisting my braids with mechanical precision.


    But my mind was elsewhere.


    The dream clung to me like smoke, curling through the corners of my thoughts, refusing to fade. How long has it been since I last let myself think about them? Five years should have been enough to move on. Five years should have turned me into someone else¡ªsomeone unburdened, someone whole.


    Yet, as I stared at my reflection, all I saw was the same girl. The same haunted gaze. The same ghosts.


    Satisfied with my hair, I stepped out of my room, beginning the long walk to the common room. The Ashfall estate stretched around me, its wealth woven into every inch of its architecture. Ornate rugs softened the pristine marble floors, walls lined with gilded sconces cast a warm, flickering glow, their flames enchanted to burn endlessly. Display cases filled with rare artifacts stood like silent sentinels¡ªmagical trinkets, ancient relics, and family heirlooms whose stories I never cared to know. Even the air smelled of affluence¡ªa subtle blend of imported spices, polished wood, and something faintly metallic, like the hum of old magic.


    Calling my parents wealthy was an understatement.


    As I understood it, the Ashfall family was the second richest in all of Remfall, our fortune built on centuries of trade. Mother had recounted our history more times than I cared to count, always with that familiar pride in her voice.


    A lineage of pyromancers, our ancestors carved their name into history with fire¡ªboth in reputation and practice. When threatened, they burned their own goods rather than let them fall into enemy hands, a tactic that intrigued powerful figures who preferred scorched earth to stolen resources. From those embers, the Ashfall mercantile empire was forged, securing its place among the ruling elite of Remfall.


    Wealth was supposed to make life easier, wasn¡¯t it? The Ashfall name ensured I never went hungry, never feared where I¡¯d sleep. I had everything I needed. Everything I was told I should want.


    So why did it always feel like something was missing?


    Descending the stairs, I halted at the threshold of the parlor. A policeman stood near the hearth, his gold-buttoned coat catching the morning light, polished boots planted firmly against the marble floor. His presence sent a chill down my spine


    Something was wrong.


    ¡°Father. Mother.¡± The words still felt foreign in my mouth, like a language I had learned late in life, never quite natural.


    They had taken me in, given me their name, their wealth. A fresh start.


    And I had repaid them by becoming exactly what they wanted.


    I stepped into the room, folding my hands neatly behind my back, my posture instinctively perfect. It had become second nature¡ªstanding the way they expected, speaking the way they demanded. The weight of the estate¡¯s grandeur pressed in from all sides¡ªthe towering bookshelves, the gilded furniture, the faint scent of burning cedar that always lingered in this room.


    Yet today, the air felt heavier.


    The officer sat stiff-backed in the chair across from my parents, his face unreadable, the brass buttons on his coat reflecting the dim light of the sconces. The tension in the room clung to the walls like a ghost.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Father¡¯s gaze met mine¡ªsharp, assessing. That look. The one that measured, weighed, determined.


    ¡°There was an attack at the Foundation,¡± he said. His voice was even, but underneath it, something colder lurked. ¡°Fifteen dead. Four of them children. Five staff members missing. Three more kids unaccounted for.¡±


    A slow, sinking weight pressed on my chest.


    The Foundation had been established four years after I became an Ashfall. Its purpose was simple¡ªgive homes and education to kids from Purgatory, offer them a future beyond the filth they were born into. Our family had been one of its major investors, shaping its structure, funding its expansion. A beacon of hope, they called it.


    Now, it was a massacre site.


    ¡°Splicers?¡± I asked, though my gut already told me it wasn¡¯t that simple.


    Father shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re not sure. The motives and evidence line up, but the only witnesses were from the outside. They claim they saw Coyote and Smoke fleeing the scene.¡± He exhaled sharply, reaching for the porcelain teapot on the tray beside him. The soft clink of china against china felt jarringly ordinary. ¡°Why is it that whenever things begin to muddle, those two are always involved?¡±


    Coyote and Smoke. My fingers twitched at the names. They stirred something distant, like a whisper from another life¡ªhalf-remembered, elusive. I knew those names. I knew them. But no matter how hard I reached, the memory slipped through my grasp, dissolving like fog under the morning sun.


    "Why were they at the Foundation?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.


    Father sighed as he poured his tea, his movements precise, unbothered¡ªlike this was just another minor inconvenience in his well-ordered world. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re trying to find out.¡±


    His gaze lingered on me, unreadable, expectant.


    Coyote and Smoke. The most infamous underworld hitmen in Remfall. Their names alone had sent shivers down spines, whispered in back alleys as both a warning and a promise. And then they had vanished. A few years ago, after the police put a bounty too large to ignore, the city¡¯s criminals did what they always did¡ªthey turned on their own. No honor among thieves, no loyalty among the hunted.


    And now, after years of silence, they were back. Not at some underground job. Not in a back-alley deal.


    At the Foundation. Surrounded by Splicers.


    None of this made sense.


    Those two didn¡¯t show themselves for anything less than a fortune. Even if someone had the funds, nobody knew where to find them. You didn¡¯t hire Coyote and Smoke¡ªyou made enough noise, and they decided if you were worth their time.


    But the Foundation?


    There couldn¡¯t possibly be anyone there worth such a sum. Most of the staff had been handpicked, people who actually wanted to help. Father had ensured that.


    So why?


    I bit my lip in frustration. ¡°You¡¯re right. Whenever those two are involved, the truth only gets harder to see. And with how little anyone actually knows about them¡­ it makes it worse.¡±


    Father didn¡¯t respond. He just turned his gaze toward the window, his fingers idly tapping the side of his teacup.


    Mother sighed, already tired of the conversation. ¡°You must be on your way, Eveline.¡± Her voice was clipped, all efficiency, no warmth. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t do for you to be late on the first day.¡±


    Dismissed.


    I checked the clock, then leaned down to place the routine peck on each of their cheeks¡ªa motion more habit than affection.


    As I turned for the door, a bitter thought slithered in.


    Would they still call me their daughter if they knew what I had done?


    ¡°I also have a report about our refugee problem¡­¡±


    The policeman¡¯s burly voice was cut off as I shut the door behind me, leaving the weight of the conversation inside.


    Ariya and Cyromo sat on the front steps, mid-conversation. Cy glanced up lazily, one brow arching.


    ¡°There she is. I was beginning to think we¡¯d have to leave you behind again.¡± He stressed the last word, letting it hang.


    I ignored him. My mind was still tangled in the attack.


    Five years. Five years in this house, and I still felt like a guest in someone else¡¯s life. But for once, I had been proud of something my family stood for. The Foundation wasn¡¯t just charity¡ªit was a chance, a way for the orphans of Purgatory to break free from the cycle that swallowed so many of us whole.


    And now¡­


    Cyromo raised a brow, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though there was an edge beneath it. ¡°Ariya, has your sister been replaced by a forgeborn or something? She looks fried.¡±


    I blinked out of my thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s called thinking, Cy.¡±


    ¡°Thinking, huh?¡± He squinted at me. ¡°That¡¯s dangerous for you.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, but Ariya shot him a warning glare.


    He held up his hands in surrender. ¡°I just mean¡­¡± His voice softened, concern slipping past his usual sarcasm. ¡°It¡¯s not like you to be this quiet, Eveline. You got a bad feeling?¡±


    I hesitated, then exhaled. ¡°You guys didn¡¯t hear?¡± My voice was flatter than I intended. ¡°There was an attack at the Foundation.¡±


    Ariya stiffened, her fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve. ¡°An attack?¡± Her voice wavered. ¡°Was anyone hurt?¡±


    ¡°Fifteen dead. Some of them kids.¡± The words felt leaden in my mouth. ¡°Three missing.¡±


    Cyromo ran a hand through his hair, tension creeping into his usually relaxed posture. ¡°Shit. Was it Splicers?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°There was evidence of Splicers, but the only report was a sighting of Coyote and Smoke.¡±


    Cyromo straightened, adjusting his collar. ¡°What the hell would two of the most wanted contract killers this side of the Fringe River want with a bunch of caretakers and kids?¡±


    I sighed. That was the question, wasn¡¯t it?


    It was never simple when those two were involved. Something bigger was at play.


    But right now? I had more pressing matters to attend to.


    The journey to school was short but steeped in the quiet pageantry of upper Remfall. The streets, paved with smooth white stone, gleamed under the morning light, their polished surfaces reflecting the gold-trimmed carriages and steam-powered automotives that rolled past. Towering buildings of ornate marble and glass loomed on either side, casting long, elegant shadows over the bustling avenues.


    The elite of Remfall moved with purpose, their gaudy silk and velvet garments adorned with intricate embroidery and enchanted gemstones that shimmered subtly with each step. Street vendors lined the edges of the walkways, selling delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar, fresh fruit infused with magic to enhance flavor, and small half-metal animals¡ªautomatons crafted to mimic real pets, their brass-plated bodies whirring softly as they twitched their tails or ruffled artificial feathers.


    Above, the sky trolleys weaved through the city on their elevated rails, glass cabins reflecting the sunrise. They glided smoothly along invisible tracks of magic-infused steel, ferrying those too impatient or too important to walk among the crowds.


    Ahead, the academy loomed, its towering spires stabbing into the morning sky. Ulvu Academy. The grandest and most prestigious institution in all of Remfall. Its architecture blended the arcane with the mechanical¡ªarched windows lined with runic etchings, spiraling towers crowned with floating, rotating rings of glowing symbols. Magic-laced lanterns flickered along the pathways, their soft blue light intensifying as students passed, reacting to movement like living creatures.


    Enchanted banners unfurled in the air, despite the lack of wind, displaying the various house sigils and the Academy''s crest¡ªa golden quill piercing a shield, symbolizing both knowledge and the power to defend it.


    At the academy gates, the three of us split up, each heading toward our respective wings. I barely spared a glance at the banners and signage welcoming students back for another year. I had no patience for the pageantry. My focus remained on the west wing, where my first class awaited¡ªgeology, of all things.


    Ulvu Academy was a fortress of knowledge, its sprawling halls carved from polished obsidian and ivory stone, gilded accents catching the morning light streaming through towering arched windows. The corridors stretched endlessly, adorned with enchanted banners that shimmered and shifted between school crests and historical imagery. Soft, blue lanterns lined the walls, flickering in response to passing students, casting a faint glow that pulsed like a heartbeat.


    I moved through the west wing, navigating through the streams of students filling the halls. Dueling apprentices sparred in an open chamber to my right, their spellwork crackling as instructors barked corrections. A few younger students huddled near an alcove, their noses buried in grimoires far too advanced for them, likely hoping to impress their peers. I passed a great mural of Remfall¡¯s history, the enchanted ink shifting fluidly¡ªscenes of battles, treaties, and revolutions playing out in real-time across its surface.


    Every step I took felt measured, calculated. The weight of my last name preceded me, pulling eyes wherever I went.


    I turned left at the Grand Stairwell, its spiraling steps appearing to stretch infinitely upward. Wrought iron railings twisted in intricate patterns, glowing faintly with protective sigils. With ease, I bypassed the main stairs, taking the narrower corridor meant for upper-year students. Here, the whispers were quieter but still present, slipping through the cracks of conversation like an insidious draft.


    "Ashfall."


    The name floated behind me, hushed but unmistakable.


    I ignored it. I always did.


    The lecture hall was just ahead, its heavy wooden doors adorned with elaborate carvings of the land¡¯s elemental deities. The murmur of conversation spilled from inside, blending with the rhythmic scratch of quills against parchment. I took a final breath, straightened my posture, and stepped through the threshold¡ªjust another day, just another routine.


    "Did you see the new girl? She¡¯s so pretty!"


    "Pretty?" The word barely registered as I passed a group of first-years, their hushed voices laced with excitement.


    "She¡¯s kind of intimidating. I wanted to say hi, but one look and I lost the courage."


    I kept walking, uninterested. Until¡ª


    "A new girl?"


    The words hooked into me before I could stop them. My gaze followed the whispers, drifting to the far end of the hall where a girl sat alone in the back row. The noise of the room faded into a dull hum.


    Long, dark brown hair. Striking features. Almond-shaped eyes that once looked at me with trust.


    My breath caught. My heart kicked against my ribs.


    Serrani.


    For a moment¡­our eyes met. Something flickered there. Recognition? Hesitation? A memory clawing its way to the surface?


    Then, like a steel trap snapping shut, her expression hardened. Her jaw tightened, lips pressing into a thin line, like she¡¯d just swallowed something bitter. No warmth. No hesitation now. Just sharp, cold contempt.


    She looked through me. As if I were a ghost. A stain. Something unworthy of a second glance.


    A slow, sick feeling curled in my stomach.


    I didn¡¯t talk to her much back then. Not because I hated her. Not because I feared her. But because she belonged to a past I wasn¡¯t allowed to have.


    But now? Now she was here, staring through me like she saw everything I had spent years trying to bury.


    And I think it¡¯s safe to assume she probably thinks the worst of me.


    The professor strode in just as I was about to stand. I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then sank back into my chair. Serrani would have to wait.


    I chose a seat near the front, my back stiff as I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder. But I felt it, the weight of her gaze, sharp and unyielding, pressing between my shoulder blades like a blade poised to strike.


    The glass board flickered to life with a wave of the professor¡¯s hand, runes and shifting text scrawling themselves across its surface. The words rearranged automatically as students scribbled their notes, while holographic diagrams hovered midair¡ªtactical formations, historical war maps, intricate arcane sigils shifting through layers of meaning.


    I leaned back, barely paying attention.


    "Good morning, students. I am Professor Ernhurst. If you open your¡ª"


    I tuned him out. First days were always the same. Yearly content outlines, expectations, school regulations. Nothing I hadn¡¯t heard before.


    Serrani hadn¡¯t taken her eyes off me the entire time.


    Even as the lecture dragged on, even as students murmured and copied notes, the cold weight of her stare lingered¡ªunrelenting, like she was daring me to turn around.


    By the time class ended, my patience had thinned. I stood too quickly, eager to escape the tension coiling in my chest. My hands clenched at my sides as I made for the door, ignoring the urge to look back.


    Serrani needed time.


    And maybe¡ªso did I.


    Ulvu Academy¡¯s grand halls pulsed with the rhythmic hum of enchantments woven into its very foundation. Arches of gilded marble stretched high overhead, their surfaces laced with faintly glowing runes, remnants of old magic infused to fortify the structure. The corridors buzzed with students shuffling between classes, their conversations blending into a low murmur, punctuated by the occasional crackle of a misfired spell or the whir of mechanical quills scratching notes onto parchment.


    I weaved through the crowd, my steps unhurried. Unlike most, I wasn¡¯t scrambling to my next lecture. As an Inventor, I only had one other class¡ªcombat.


    That left the rest of my time open for research, innovation, and personal projects. The Ashfall name carried certain expectations, and while my magical studies were handled privately by a tutor handpicked by my parents, the Academy structured my days with far more freedom than most.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Still, combat was an oddity here.


    Few students elected to take it. Ulvu was a school for scholars, inventors, and traders¡ªpeople who built their influence with intellect, not brute force. Law enforcement, mercenaries, and bounty hunters trained elsewhere, in academies tailored for war. The only reason combat class still existed at Ulvu was because of me. The Ashfall name had sway, and when I had chosen to enroll, the Academy hadn¡¯t dared to refuse.


    I turned a corner, passing beneath an ornate iron archway where the flow of students thinned. The combat wing was a relic from an older time¡ªwhen Ulvu had prepared students for more than just politics and commerce. Now, its corridors were emptier, its once-pristine sparring halls faded from disuse. Last year, only six students had been enrolled. This year, I expected even less.


    Effort determined our grades, not results. The class had no easy way to skate by with half-hearted participation. It had long since been abandoned by those looking for an effortless A.


    The academy¡¯s pristine halls gave way to something more utilitarian¡ªsmooth stone floors, reinforced steel doors, and banners stripped of unnecessary embellishments. The walls bore faint scorch marks, remnants of past duels, and deep clawed gouges from training sessions involving more¡­ volatile techniques.


    I came to a stop outside the heavy double doors, rolling my shoulders. The Academy didn¡¯t care about combat anymore. Most of the students didn¡¯t care about combat.


    But I did.


    And that was enough to keep this place open.


    Pushing open the heavy doors, I stepped into the combat hall just as Serrani and Faun exchanged a rapid series of blows. The space echoed with the sharp sounds of impact¡ªgrappling feet, controlled breathing, the scrape of boots pivoting against the reinforced mat.


    Serrani¡¯s toned muscles flexed as she parried a strike aimed at her chin, her stance strong but fluid. Faun, ever the quiet technician, barely shifted his expression as he pivoted low, sweeping Serrani¡¯s right leg out from under her. She staggered. Before she could recover, he pressed the advantage, using his left leg to further throw off her balance.


    In a blur of motion, they hit the mat. Serrani crashed face-first, a grunt escaping her lips. Faun wasted no time, locking her right arm as he rose, looming over her.


    A few beats passed¡­then, with a grunt, he let go. No words. No reaction. Just a curt release as he turned on his heel and walked off, his usual silence filling the space where most would have boasted.


    I couldn''t tell if that meant he approved of our new classmate or not.


    Faun had arrived in the middle of last year, immediately establishing himself as a force to be reckoned with. He had proceeded to kick my ass repeatedly for the remainder of the year¡­an experience both frustrating and enlightening.


    The most I¡¯d ever heard him say?


    "My name is Faun Morrigan."


    And that was it. Not another wasted syllable.


    He hadn¡¯t even flinched when I introduced myself, when the name Ashfall had passed my lips. No hesitation. No hushed whispers. No veiled caution in his eyes. He had treated me like anyone else, like my family¡¯s influence was nothing worth acknowledging.


    That was rare.


    I was used to being looked at like I was a walking bomb¡ªsomething volatile, something to be careful around. Even here, in a class meant for fighting, most people approached me as though they were handling something fragile.


    Faun didn¡¯t.


    And that was the closest thing to normal I had felt in a long time.


    Serrani sat up, rubbing her right shoulder. I stepped forward, extending a hand. ¡°He¡¯s like that with everyone. Don¡¯t take it personally.¡± I said lightly, trying to cut through the tension.


    Her eyes flicked to my outstretched hand, then to my face. Something unreadable passed over her expression before she swatted my hand away, harder than necessary.


    "I don''t need your help." Her voice was steady, but fire smoldered in her eyes.


    I pulled my hand back. ¡°Alright.¡± I swallowed the sting of rejection. ¡°Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see you here.¡±


    Serrani gave a short, humorless laugh. ¡°Yeah. Surprise.¡±


    The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating. I wasn¡¯t sure what to say¡ªwasn¡¯t sure if  I should say anything. Five years. That¡¯s how long it had been. Five years since everything, since the life we once knew crumbled to dust.


    I wanted to ask her why she was here. I wanted to ask her how she¡¯d been. But the weight between us made every possible question feel wrong.


    Serrani tilted her head, studying me with something close to disbelief. ¡°You really don¡¯t know, do you?¡±


    I tensed. ¡°Know what?¡±


    Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she exhaled sharply. ¡°Figures.¡±


    The way she said it, like she expected nothing more from me¡­made something inside me twist. I forced myself to meet her gaze. ¡°If you have something to say, just say it.¡±


    Her fingers twitched at her sides. Like she wanted to grab something. Like she wanted to grab me.


    ¡°You left him,¡± she said. Not an accusation¡ªan execution. ¡°You left him, and then you just kept going. You kept living.¡± For a split second, her breath faltered, but she swallowed it down, her voice hardening ¡°And now you want to stand here, look me in the eye, and act like it never happened?¡±


    The air between us was suffocating.


    Serrani stepped forward, her voice dropping to something sharp and personal. ¡°Tell me, Ev,¡± she pressed, her jaw clenching tight. ¡°When you abandoned him, did you even look back?¡±


    The words struck deep, scraping against wounds I thought I¡¯d buried. Wounds that had never healed.


    I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. ¡°Who are you to judge? You weren¡¯t there.¡±


    She let out a low, humorless laugh. ¡°And you didn¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Not about him. Not about what he meant to¡ª¡±


    She stopped. Just like that. Cutting herself off like she had said too much.


    ¡°What he... what?¡±


    She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. ¡°Forget it. You already did.¡±


    The sound of the training room doors swinging open cut through the moment. Serrani straightened, already moving. She turned to leave, her pace brisk, deliberate¡ªuntil, at the very last second, she hesitated.


    That made it worse.


    She didn¡¯t look at me when she spoke.


    ¡°You ever wonder if he¡¯s alive, Ev?¡± Her voice was hollow now. ¡°I do. Every single day.¡±


    A pause.


    ¡°But you? You seem content with forgetting.¡±


    My pulse pounded in my ears.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have that luxury.¡±


    She let the silence hang between us for just a moment longer¡­long enough for the weight of it to settle.


    Then she was gone.


    Our conversation was far from over, but it would have to wait. The weight of it pressed at the back of my mind like an old wound that had never quite healed. Seeing Serrani again stirred something uncomfortable, nostalgia laced with regret. An old face in a new life, dragging the past up with it.


    The doors to the training hall creaked open, and the low hum of chatter filled the room. I blinked, pushing my thoughts aside as students trickled in, some stretching, some standing around in small groups. It was noisier than I expected.


    A lot noisier.


    I scanned the room, my eyes twisting in mild disbelief. There were more first-years than I had ever seen in this class. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Combat training had always been a dying elective. Most students here pursued careers in invention, trade, or alchemy¡ªthings that kept them far from bloodshed. Fighting was for law enforcement, mercenaries, or people without any better options. And yet, here they were. First-years. Watching. Whispering.


    I caught snippets of conversation.


    "You think we have to spar on the first day?"


    "I heard last year only had six people."


    "Is that¡ª? No way, that¡¯s an Ashfall.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°Fantastic.¡±


    The familiar screech of metal on stone cut through the murmurs.


    ¡°Can I have your attention here?¡±


    The instructor dragged a heavy iron crate across the floor, the grinding sound making a few students wince. Professor Corvus Lightfoot. Even among the Fae, wardens were rare, but his presence alone would have set him apart regardless. His skin was alabaster white, his ears sharp and elongated. His stance¡ªperfectly still yet brimming with restrained power¡ªradiated authority.


    ¡°For those of you new here, welcome to combat class.¡± His gaze swept over the students, unblinking, measuring. I had seen that look before¡ªassessing, calculating. A few of the first-years straightened under the weight of it. ¡°I see a lot of fresh faces this year. Interesting.¡±


    He let that word hang in the air for a moment before continuing. ¡°Any returning students, you may go ahead and change.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to be told twice. Turning on my heel, I made for the women¡¯s locker room, Claire and Maz falling into step behind me.


    The locker room was as bare-bones as the training hall. Simple wooden lockers lined the walls, each marked with a dull bronze number. No embellishments, no unnecessary luxuries. Just function. Locker nine was mine.


    I pulled it open, the hinges creaking slightly, and grabbed my training clothes. A plain black shirt and grey trousers practical, unremarkable, just like the rest of this place.


    As I changed, I let my mind wander, but it kept circling back to Serrani. That wasn¡¯t a reunion. It was a challenge, a reminder that I hadn¡¯t left everything behind as neatly as I liked to believe.


    And something told me this wasn¡¯t the last time we¡¯d clash.


    I shut my locker with more force than necessary, trying to shake off the lingering tension from my run-in with Serrani. I could still feel her gaze burning into my back, even now.


    As I pulled off my vest, Claire leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching me.


    ¡°So, you and the new girl have some history?¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°You saw that, huh?¡±


    ¡°Ev, half the class saw that,¡± she said, smirking. ¡°I was expecting you to punch her.¡±


    ¡°Tempting,¡± I muttered, yanking my training shirt over my head.


    Claire grinned. ¡°So, are we ignoring it or addressing it? I need to know if I should prepare popcorn.¡±


    Before I could answer, Maz spoke from a few lockers down, her voice as monotone as ever. ¡°You should not involve yourself in matters above your station.¡±


    Claire turned to her, incredulous. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Maz peered at her from around the corner, unfazed. ¡°Lady Eveline¡¯s family is of significantly higher status than yours. Why do you believe your counsel is needed?¡±


    Claire scoffed. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t realize friendship required an economic prerequisite.¡±


    Maz blinked. ¡°It does not. But guidance should be offered only by those qualified to give it.¡±


    Claire turned to me in sheer disbelief. ¡°Do you hear this? Your little gremlin over here thinks I¡¯m unqualified to give you advice.¡±


    I sighed, already used to this dynamic. ¡°Maz, Claire doesn¡¯t care about my family¡¯s wealth.¡±


    Maz tilted her head slightly, as if the concept was foreign to her. ¡°That seems¡­ impractical.¡±


    Claire groaned, throwing up her hands. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m done. I am so done.¡± She turned to me. ¡°Ev, if I ever go missing, just assume Maz has had me executed for social inferiority.¡±


    Maz shrugged. ¡°A reasonable assumption.¡±


    I barely stopped myself from laughing.


    I stifled a laugh behind my hand. Maz had always been a bit dense when it came to social cues, but at this point, I was used to it. Honestly, it was impressive how far she¡¯d come since we first met years ago. Back then, she was denser than a mountain¡ªand then some.


    I stood, slipping away as Claire launched into a long-winded explanation about how wrong Maz was. The conversation trailed behind me, Claire¡¯s frustration clashing with Maz¡¯s ever-calm demeanor. By the time I stepped back into the training hall, the rest of the class had gathered in a loose circle around Instructor Corvus.


    He paced in front of us, dragging his fingers along the surface of a metal plate embedded into the floor. The air in the training hall shifted, magic rippling outward in faint waves.


    ¡°This year¡¯s first challenge is simple,¡± he said, voice carrying over the murmurs of the students. ¡°Stay standing.¡±


    A few people exchanged glances, confused.


    Corvus smirked. ¡°For the next twenty minutes, you will engage, evade, and endure. If you¡¯re knocked down for more than five seconds, you¡¯re out. If you refuse to engage, I will personally make sure you do.¡±


    At that, the entire hall shifted. Thin, glowing lines spread across the floor, sectioning off the space into several uneven arenas. I counted four in total, their edges flickering like embers.


    "Every five minutes, the space will shrink. By the end, only one person should be standing in each zone. If you step out of your designated area before it¡¯s time, you¡¯re out.¡±


    The class was silent now. This wasn¡¯t a free-for-all; it was endurance, survival.


    Corvus tapped the ground, and suddenly, our feet weren¡¯t on solid stone anymore. The magic in the room pulsed. The air felt heavier, the gravity slightly adjusted. Subtle, but enough to make this fight take its toll over time.


    I clenched my fists, already planning. This was a psychological test just as much as a physical one.


    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± a first-year muttered, shifting uncomfortably. ¡°This isn¡¯t even a real fight.¡±


    Corvus chuckled, his golden eyes glinting. ¡°If you think this isn¡¯t a real fight, you¡¯re not ready for this class.¡±


    Then, without warning¡ª


    A chime rang. The match had begun.


    At first, nobody moved. It was a game of nerves, waiting for the first fool to make a mistake. The faint hum of the magical barriers around our zones filled the silence.


    Then, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Faun had already moved.


    He wasted no time, striking down a first-year in his section with a single well-placed kick. The student gasped, hitting the ground hard. I counted¡ªone¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­ before the kid scrambled up, shaking.


    Faun didn¡¯t look at him again. He had already dismissed him as a non-threat.


    In my own zone, I mirrored Faun¡ªwatching, calculating. The trick wasn¡¯t to burn yourself out in the first minute. The longer you lasted, the heavier the air would feel. Corvus wanted to see how we handled exhaustion, how we adapted under pressure.


    A blur of movement caught my eye. Someone sprinted past my zone¡¯s edge, lunging straight for Faun.


    Dreads whipped through the air as the new guy made his move, twisting his body to avoid Faun¡¯s counter strike.


    His footwork was fast. Too fast. Faun had to shift his weight, adjusting mid-step to keep up. The exchange was rapid¡ªa jab, a feint, a quick retreat before a sudden push forward.


    Faun was holding his ground, but just barely.


    I let out a breath, my focus shifting back to my own fight.


    I had my own battle to win.


    The first few minutes passed in controlled chaos.


    I moved carefully, engaging only when necessary. Wasting energy now would be a death sentence later.


    Across the shrinking arena, Faun and the new guy were still locked in combat. His movements were sharp, precise¡ªusing every ounce of speed to force Faun to react rather than dictate the fight.


    I took the opportunity to analyze him.


    Quick footwork. Reflexes like a street brawler. Smart, too. He wasn¡¯t blindly attacking¡ªhe was testing Faun, finding openings. But Faun wasn¡¯t easy to shake.


    The moment the new guy pivoted too hard on his left foot, Faun seized the mistake.


    A brutal counter-kick to the ribs.


    The air cracked from the impact, the new guy staggering before dropping to one knee, gripping his side. He wasn¡¯t out, but that hit had cost him.


    I exhaled, reminding myself to stay focused.


    A shadow loomed to my left. I turned just in time to see a girl lunging at me.


    She was fast¡ªbut not faster than me.


    I sidestepped, hooking my foot behind her knee. She hit the ground hard, gasping as I pressed a palm against her shoulder, keeping her pinned for the five-second count.


    ¡°Stay down,¡± I warned, before pushing off and resetting my stance.


    She cursed under her breath, but didn¡¯t argue.


    My zone was still mine. For now.


    Corvus tapped a finger against his wrist¡ªa countdown display flickering into existence above his palm.


    ¡°First shrink. Move.¡±


    The glowing barriers contracted sharply, forcing us closer together. The air thickened. The magic Corvus embedded in the field was doing its job¡ªmaking us heavier, slower.


    Faun barely looked fazed. The new guy, though, was struggling. He had speed, but speed meant nothing if you couldn¡¯t breathe.


    I clenched my fists, my own body starting to feel the pull.


    Five more minutes. Then another shrink. Then another.


    The real test was just beginning.


    ¡°Too slow, bossman!¡± The new guy jeered, twisting just out of Faun¡¯s reach. His movements were fluid, his agility undeniable¡ªbending, weaving, adjusting mid-motion like he was made of water.


    The air grew heavier, pressing down on my shoulders, a constant reminder of the magic influencing the room. The gravity was growing more intense, just as Corvus promised. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the weight. I couldn¡¯t afford to tire out early.


    Claire appeared at my side, her breathing slightly labored as she adjusted to the changing gravity. I hadn¡¯t even noticed her approach¡ªnot good. I was getting distracted.


    She nudged me, her eyes fixed on the fight. ¡°Any idea who that is?¡±


    I shook my head, eyes narrowing. ¡°Your guess is as good as mine.¡±


    She crossed her arms, her posture rigid under the invisible weight pressing down. ¡°Must be a new student.¡±


    I watched as the guy flashed a cocky grin, narrowly dodging a counterstrike from Faun. ¡°Di name Ricao Erwin, but yuh cya call me Yers.¡± His accent rolled effortlessly, thick yet playful. He turned his gaze on me, chuckling at my stunned expression. ¡°Ah, seems like me words tek yuh breath away. Or was it me handsome looks?¡±


    I blinked. What.


    Claire¡¯s face was unreadable before she turned to me, completely deadpan. ¡°That¡¯s the worst pickup line I¡¯ve ever heard.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t even respond. That was so¡­ Lame! How was he not embarrassed?


    The weight in the air grew denser, my limbs feeling heavier by the second. Claire¡¯s posture shifted, her shoulders drooping just slightly under the increased pressure. The glowing lines around the arena flickered, contracting slowly, forcing the fighters closer.


    Corvus¡¯s voice cut through the haze of my spiraling thoughts. ¡°Eveline, Claire, and Maz. Disqualified.¡±


    Shit. I inwardly cursed myself. I got distracted by that nonsense.


    Claire made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a groan. ¡°Unbelievable.¡±


    Frustrated, I tore my gaze away from the arena as Claire and I pushed through the gathering crowd. The magical pressure eased once we crossed the barriers, the air feeling light and breathable again.


    Maz was already seated on the bench, her expression vacant, like she had just seen the end of the world.


    Claire plopped down beside her, rubbing her temples. ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    Maz blinked, her voice distant. ¡°I suddenly felt sick after hearing the words come from that man¡¯s mouth.¡±


    Claire frowned, looking genuinely concerned. ¡°Huuuh!?!? You can understand that, but not me?¡±


    Maz simply nodded, her face visibly disturbed. I bit my lip, struggling to keep from laughing.


    Despite the absurdity of Ricao¡¯s introduction, the fight itself was shifting.


    Faun had adjusted, his stance wide and grounded, his weight expertly distributed to counter the artificial gravity. His eyes were sharper now, calculating, focused.


    He had figured out Ricao¡¯s rhythm.


    The playful, nimble dancer was being slowly, methodically boxed in. Every step forward was countered, every jab deflected. Ricao¡¯s fluid movements became jerky, uncoordinated, as Faun closed the gaps, suffocating his momentum.


    But Ricao¡¯s grin didn¡¯t falter. Even as Faun advanced, even as the noose tightened, he looked annoyingly unfazed.


    I narrowed my eyes, analyzing the exchange. What¡¯s he planning?


    This fight is over.


    Or so I thought.


    Corvus¡¯s voice cut through the air, sharp and definitive. ¡°Faun. Disqualified.¡±


    What?


    The three of us exchanged confused looks. The magical lines on the floor flickered, shifting subtly as the arena adjusted to Faun¡¯s removal. The shrinking zones grew tighter, the glow from the embers casting an eerie light across the training hall.


    Faun pushed his way through the crowd, settling down next to me, frustration written all over his face. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched tight. The pressure in the air had faded outside the ring, but his irritation remained heavy.


    ¡°How?¡± I asked, genuinely bewildered.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure,¡± Faun admitted, his brows furrowed in irritation. ¡°I had him. I was shutting him down completely. Then¡ª¡± He hesitated, jaw tightening. ¡°He suddenly landed a hit on my jaw. It wasn¡¯t even that strong, but somehow, in the same breath, he got behind me and put me in a chokehold.¡±


    I absorbed the information, frowning. That didn¡¯t make sense. If Faun was as in control as he claimed, there was no reason for Ricao to break through so suddenly.


    Claire crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Great. That buffoon is gonna win, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± I muttered, my gaze drifting back to the fight.


    The glowing lines on the floor pulsed, shrinking inward. Each contraction was accompanied by a faint hum, the air rippling as the barriers forced the remaining fighters closer together. The magical pressure increased, gravity pushing down harder, making every movement more labored, more deliberate.


    Ricao moved within his zone, his posture loose, casual. He wore a lazy grin, one that should have looked ridiculous given the circumstances, but somehow suited him. He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze locking with mine. He winked.


    My jaw tightened.


    Instructor Corvus disqualified a few more students as skirmishes erupted across the training grounds. The air was charged, thick with tension. Some of the fights were over in an instant¡ªbrutal, efficient takedowns. Others dragged out longer as the more skilled fighters tested their mettle, dancing around each other with precise footwork.


    The lines continued to shrink, the magic growing more erratic, the hum intensifying. The floor beneath the fighters¡¯ feet vibrated faintly, the glowing embers at the edges flaring as the zones reached their smallest form yet.


    One by one, the disqualified wall of shame grew. Faun sat next to me, his eyes glued to Ricao, shoulders rigid. I could practically hear his teeth grinding.


    I couldn¡¯t blame him. I didn¡¯t understand it either.


    Until only five remained.


    Two girls. Three guys.


    And among them¡ªRicao and Serrani.


    Ricao smiled cheekily, winking my way. It took everything in my power not to recoil in secondhand embarrassment. What part of him thought that was attractive? Why did he have this unshakable, unearned confidence?


    I nearly jumped when Instructor Corvus¡¯s voice cut through the air. ¡°Five minutes left.¡±


    My gaze shifted, taking in the remaining contenders. Three new students. All of them moved with the ease of people accustomed to fighting. They weren¡¯t amateurs. Still, I doubted any of them were a match for that dread-headed narcissist. Then again, I¡¯d been in this class for years, and even I wouldn¡¯t be confident facing him.


    Then, without a word, one of the remaining students stepped forward.


    Pale. Lean, but not fragile. There was something unsettling about the way he carried himself¡ª poised, fluid, like a blade drawn in silence. He barely acknowledged Ricao before moving.


    A single strike. Ricao staggered back, barely blocking in time. The force was staggering. Not just fast¡ªbrutal. Efficient.


    Who the hell was this guy?


    Ricao recovered quickly, slipping into a counter. He aimed a quick, sharp jab at the boy¡¯s jaw¡ªonly for his wrist to be snatched mid-motion. The new guy barely reacted, fingers clamping down like a vice.


    Ricao¡¯s knees buckled. His face contorted in pain. ¡°Me concede!¡± he squeaked.


    Laughter rippled through the class.


    Claire smirked. ¡°That idiot lost that easily? Pfft.¡±


    The remaining four exchanged looks. Then, without much hesitation¡ªone by one, they conceded.


    ¡°Emily, Serrani, Edward, Ricao. Disqualified.¡± Corvus declared, stepping forward.


    Ricao grumbled under his breath as he rubbed his wrist, muttering something about ¡°lucky shot¡± before retreating to the wall.


    ¡°Well done to Dorian Shadsly,¡± Corvus announced, his eyes lingering on the pale boy. There was a flicker of curiosity, maybe even approval, in his gaze. ¡°Now, for the rest of you, you¡¯re free to do as you see fit for the remainder of class.¡±


    Dorian didn¡¯t react. No smile, no relief. He merely relaxed his stance, the tension leaving his shoulders as if the fight had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.


    Maz cocked her head. ¡°Shadsly? I¡¯ve never heard that last name before.¡±


    I frowned. Neither had I.


    Claire scoffed. ¡°Maybe the school finally started a program to give poor people a chance at learning.¡± She didn¡¯t even bother hiding the contempt in her voice.


    Claire''s words should''ve made me roll my eyes. I should''ve laughed. I should''ve said something sarcastic in return. But I didn''t. My gaze drifted back to Dorian. He stood near the weapon racks now, running his fingers over the hilt of a practice sword, his posture eerily relaxed, like he had all the time in the world.


    The way he moved¡­deliberate, precise¡­reminded me of someone. Someone from a past I wasn¡¯t supposed to think about.


    I exhaled sharply, forcing my attention elsewhere. Around me, students milled about, some stretching, others talking in small clusters. Ricao was still rubbing his fist, muttering something to himself as Serrani pretended he didn¡¯t exist. Faun had already moved to the far side of the room, meticulously adjusting the straps on his sparring gloves, his face unreadable.


    I needed to shake this feeling off.


    Pivoting on my heel, I strode toward the refreshment table set up in the corner of the training hall. Most students ignored it, but I knew better. The Academy never did anything by half measures¡ªespecially not for students bearing the right last name.


    A boy dressed in the crisp, navy-and-gold uniform of a school servant stood behind the table, barely older than twelve. His posture was rigid, his eyes carefully lowered, hands folded behind his back. The Ashfall name carried weight, and while I rarely wielded it like a weapon, others still bent beneath it.


    He straightened at my approach. "Would you like tea, Lady Ashfall?"


    I bit back a sigh. I hated the title, the way it felt like a collar around my throat. But correcting him wouldn''t change anything.


    "Yes, please," I said instead.


    The boy moved with practiced efficiency, selecting a fine porcelain cup and filling it with amber liquid from an ornate silver pot. The scent of jasmine and honey drifted upward as he handed it to me with both hands, head slightly bowed.


    I took the cup, fingers brushing against the delicate ceramic.


    This was my life now.


    I was fine.


    I had my family. My place in Remfall.


    I had friends. I had a future.


    I was fine.


    The past was over.


    The past was buried.


    And yet, as I brought the cup to my lips, the taste of the tea did nothing to wash away the bitterness lingering on my tongue.

 Unfinished Goodbyes

    It had been weeks since we crossed paths again. Neither of us made an effort to close the distance. The silence between us lingered, thick and unmoving, a ghost of something neither of us wanted to acknowledge.


    "Class dismissed."


    The instructor¡¯s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked, realizing I¡¯d barely processed a single word of today¡¯s lesson.


    I was sitting in the astrology lecture hall, my last class of the day. The room was vast, lined with arched glass windows that reflected the faint glow of enchanted star charts floating above the professor¡¯s desk. Celestial maps flickered with shifting constellations, but I barely glanced at them as I packed up my things.


    The professor was young, awkward, and timid, the type you¡¯d expect to find buried in the academy library instead of leading a classroom. His passive nature made it easy to slack off, and my grades had started slipping because of it. Not that I cared.


    Outside, the corridors buzzed with the usual excitement. Tomorrow was Rem Day¡ªa week-long festival celebrating the defeat of the warlord Rem and the rise of the city¡¯s golden age. Remfall would be in full celebration, draped in banners, with nobles hosting extravagant feasts and parades rolling through the city streets.


    To me? It was just time off.


    I was weaving my way through the flood of students when I heard someone call my name.


    "Serrani, can we talk for a minute?"


    I turned, surprised to see Dorian Shadsly standing behind me. His stance was confident, but his expression held something unfamiliar¡ªhesitation. His eyes flickered with something measured, as if he was bracing himself for something uncertain.


    Since our first day in combat class, no one had managed to dethrone him as the best fighter. He was an enigma¡­quiet, unreadable, detached. I had never expected him to seek me out.


    I nodded, following him as he led me outside into one of the academy¡¯s stone-paved courtyards. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the marble pillars. A faint breeze rustled the ivy lining the archways, but the tension in the air between us was far heavier.


    Dorian hesitated, staring at the ground before meeting my gaze.


    "Are you¡­ involved with anyone?"


    The words hit like a misplaced punch, knocking me slightly off balance.


    I blinked at him, trying to process what I had just heard. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes¡ªsharp and focused¡ªstayed on me.


    "I just... I¡¯ve never seen you with anyone." His voice was steady, but there was something uncertain underneath. "I was curious."


    I exhaled slowly. My pulse had picked up for reasons that had nothing to do with his question.


    "I¡ª" I faltered, swallowing the lump in my throat. "There was someone. Someone important."


    I hesitated. Saying his name felt like reopening an old wound that had never fully healed.


    "He¡¯s... gone now."


    Dorian¡¯s gaze softened, just a little. "I see."


    The weight of my past pressed heavy against my ribs. Eight years. It had been eight years since Jack was taken from me. Since Ev left him behind. Since my world splintered apart. But grief doesn¡¯t care about time¡ªit lingers, festers, waits in the quiet moments to remind you of what you¡¯ve lost.


    "I can¡¯t let him go. Not yet," I admitted, voice quieter than before.


    Dorian nodded, as if that answer was enough. "I didn¡¯t mean to bring up anything painful."


    I forced a smile, though it felt brittle. "You didn¡¯t know. It¡¯s fine."


    Silence stretched between us. It wasn¡¯t uncomfortable, just¡­ heavy.


    Then, after a beat, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe we could just be friends, then?"


    I blinked.


    "Friends?" The word felt strange in my mouth, unfamiliar.


    He shrugged. "I haven¡¯t exactly made many connections here."


    I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Dorian Shadsly, the strongest fighter in our class, the cold, untouchable mystery, claiming to be alone?


    Then again, who was I to judge? I hadn¡¯t made any real friends either.


    I studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Yeah¡­ I don¡¯t see why not."


    His shoulders eased, a small, almost boyish smile crossing his lips. It was the first time I¡¯d seen him look anything other than serious.


    "See you after the break, then?"


    "See you then."


    He turned, walking off with that same poised confidence, but this time, it felt less guarded.


    I watched him go, my heart fluttering before sinking like a stone. Jack still held a place in my heart, a place no one could ever touch. But for the first time in a long time, it didn¡¯t feel like a weight.


    I pushed the thought aside as I returned to my dorm. It didn¡¯t take long to gather my things, and before I knew it, I was stepping onto the trolley heading home.


    The operator¡¯s face tightened when I told him my stop was D6. Not many people asked to get off near D¡ªtoo close to Purgatory. Too close to the edge of civility, where the streets bled into something harsher, uglier.


    I didn¡¯t care.


    I leaned against the trolley¡¯s cold window, watching the city blur past in streaks of gold and iron. The hum of the engine faded into the background as my thoughts slipped backward, pulling me into a memory I had spent years trying to forget.


    Where is he?


    I paced the length of the backroom at Lock and Key, my boots scuffing against the rough wooden floor. The tavern was packed tonight, the noise spilling in from the front¡ªlaughter, shouts, the heavy clatter of mugs against tables. Through the walls, I could hear the low thrum of music from the streets outside. The concert was about to start. Excitement buzzed in the air.


    But not for me.


    I crossed my arms, leaning back against the wall, eyes fixed on the door. Jack was late. Again.


    I had spent more time getting ready than I¡¯d ever admit. Usually, my clothes were practical, built for slipping through Purgatory¡¯s streets unnoticed. But tonight? Tonight was different. A dark, fitted jacket with silver buttons, paired with a high-collared blouse that hugged my frame just right. My boots, polished but worn, tapped impatiently against the floor. It was stupid to care. I knew that. But tonight was supposed to be special¡ªa rare night where I didn¡¯t have to be Serrani of Purgatory. Just... Serrani, and I could finally tell Jack how I felt about him.


    He is always late. But never this late.


    My heart thudded harder, anxiety prickling beneath my skin. I chewed my lip, glancing at the clock on the far wall. Twenty minutes past the time we were supposed to meet. The concert would start without us.


    Maybe he got distracted. I could already picture him, head buried in some broken contraption he¡¯d found in the scrapyard, hands smeared with grease, lost in his own world. He¡¯ll come running through that door any second, grinning like a fool. Any second now.


    The door didn¡¯t open.


    My foot tapped against the floor, my patience unraveling. I was excited, damn it. I¡¯d been looking forward to this night for weeks. He knows I¡¯m leaving tomorrow. He wouldn''t be late on purpose. Jack¡¯s stupid smile flashed through my mind, his eyes bright when he asked me to go with him. I could still hear his voice¡ª¡°Then let¡¯s make it like, totally the most fun day ever!¡±


    I shoved off the wall, unable to sit still any longer. The front room was packed tonight¡ªmaybe Jack was out there, waiting for me. Maybe he thought we were meeting outside.


    Slipping through the side door, I stepped into the cool night air, exhaling sharply as the noise of Lock & Key dulled behind me. The street was alive with movement, a tangled mess of overlapping voices¡ªlaughter, drunken shouts, the occasional clash of metal on stone. Further down, the distant shatter of glass sent a ripple of reaction through the crowd, but no one seemed all that concerned. Just another night in Purgatory.


    I leaned against the tavern¡¯s outer wall, arms crossed, scanning the faces weaving through the dimly lit streets. My fingers drummed anxiously against my sleeve, a restless rhythm that mirrored the gnawing unease in my gut.


    He wouldn¡¯t just ditch me. Right?


    Maybe I got the time wrong when they¡¯d be back. Maybe he was still caught up in something. Jack had a habit of getting sidetracked over scrap metal and busted radios, but that thought didn¡¯t make me roll my eyes like it should have. Instead, my stomach twisted. The anticipation that had once felt thrilling now felt like a bad omen.


    The minutes stretched. My pulse quickened.


    A sharp gust of wind whipped past, and I cursed under my breath, rubbing my arms. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.


    Then, a voice¡ªSenna¡¯s voice¡ªcut through my memory, unbidden and urgent.


    "If we don¡¯t come back... take care of Mae"


    I was left breathless in that moment. My mind tried to reject it, but the weight of his words settled in my chest like a stone dropping into deep water.


    If we don¡¯t come back.


    The way he had said it. The way he had looked at me before they left. It wasn¡¯t a casual remark. It had been a warning.


    A cold dread seeped through me, crawling up my spine like ice.


    Jack wasn¡¯t here. I haven''t heard from Senna or Ev. And Mae¡ª


    Shit.


    I turned sharply, locking eyes with my bodyguard¡ªa hulking figure who had been lurking in the background, blending into the shadows.


    "Follow me. Now."


    I didn¡¯t wait for confirmation.


    The second I broke into a sprint, he followed.


    Purgatory at night was a different beast entirely. The streets stretched long and empty in places, only to give way to pockets of chaos¡ªa drunk being dragged into an alley, figures huddled around burning trash cans, the distant pop of gunfire swallowed by the low hum of the city. The neon glow of street signs flickered weakly, some failing entirely, leaving entire sections bathed in shadow. Overhead, scaffolding clung to half-collapsed buildings like skeletal remains, the echoes of past lives carved into crumbling stone and rusting steel.


    I ran through winding alleys slick with oil and filth, dodging overturned crates and shattered glass. The air reeked of damp rock and sewage, the thick stench of rot clinging to the walls, but further down, the sharp burn of cheap street food and charred spice lingered. My foot nearly slipped on the uneven cobblestone as I turned a corner, catching myself just in time. My heartbeat pounded against my ribs.


    Past the decrepit market stalls and rundown apartments, the terrain shifted. The man-made ruins of Purgatory gave way to something older, untouched by progress¡ªmassive rock formations and jagged stone pathways that burrowed deeper underground. The glow of the city dimmed behind me, swallowed by the oppressive dark.


    The deeper I went, the quieter it became.


    The hideout was exactly where it had always been¡ªa hollow carved into the rock face, hidden from prying eyes and unwanted visitors. Rough-hewn walls framed the entrance, the door itself little more than reinforced scrap metal, bolted into place like an afterthought. The dampness in the air clung to my skin, the weight of the earth pressing in from all sides.


    I slowed as we neared the tunnel leading to the front door. The passage carved into the rock was barely wide enough for a single person, the jagged walls closing in like the gaping maw of some long-dead beast. I turned to my bodyguard, raising a hand.


    "Wait here." My voice was low, steady. "If something''s wrong inside, I don¡¯t need you blocking the only exit." He gave a silent nod, shifting to take position near the entrance, his hand resting on the grip of his weapon. I took a breath and stepped forward.


    The tunnel swallowed me whole, the damp air thickening as I moved deeper. My boots scuffed against the stone, each step heavier than the last. The deeper I went, the heavier the silence became, swallowing even the faintest echoes of the city above.


    Then I reached it.


    The door.


    A cold slab of reinforced metal, slick with condensation. My fingers curled into a fist, hesitating for just a moment before I pressed my palm flat against the surface.


    Too quiet.


    Too still.


    I pushed the door open and stepped inside.


    The air inside was thick with damp earth and the faint, lingering scent of burning oil. Shadows stretched long and uneven across the rough stone walls, the flickering light of an old, half-empty lantern barely keeping the darkness at bay. My boots scuffed against the uneven ground as I stepped forward, my breath slow, controlled.


    I walked through the narrow passage leading to the main living space, the sound of my own footsteps swallowed by the heavy silence. My eyes scanned the room as I entered, my pulse steady but wary¡ªuntil they landed on a small figure curled up in a nest of thick blankets.


    Mae.


    She lay fast asleep, her tiny body buried beneath layers of mismatched fabric. Her face was peaceful, her dark curls fanning across the pillow. In one small hand, she clutched a worn stuffed animal, its fur matted from years of love.


    For a long moment, I just stood there, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing. The weight in my chest pressed heavier. They weren¡¯t back.


    Jack, Senna, Ev¡ªthey should have been back by now.


    And Mae¡­ she was just here, waiting. Unaware. Still expecting the world to tell her what had happened.


    I knelt beside her, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.


    "Mae." My voice barely rose above a whisper.


    She stirred, murmuring something in her sleep before her eyes fluttered open. Groggy, unfocused at first. Then she blinked up at me, confusion flickering across her features.


    "Serrani?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Is Senna back yet?"


    I hesitated. Just long enough for her to notice.


    "Not yet." I forced the words out, keeping my voice softer than I intended. "Did Jack or Ev come back? Have you seen them at all tonight?"


    Mae rubbed her eyes and shook her head, her curls bouncing with the movement. "No¡­ they said they¡¯d be back before I fell asleep. But they never wake me up when they do."


    Her voice was drowsy, unaware of the worry twisting tight in my chest.


    She yawned and stretched, blinking up at me, still too wrapped in sleep to understand what wasn¡¯t being said.


    "Why are you here? Where is everyone else?" Her small voice broke the silence, a quiet tremor beneath the weight of uncertainty.


    She hadn¡¯t realized it yet¡ªthe possibility they might not come back.


    I forced a smile, brushing her tangled hair out of her face.


    "Senna asked me to take you somewhere safe if they didn¡¯t make it back on time. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re just running late."


    I had to believe that. I needed to.


    Senna¡¯s voice echoed in my head, words that had haunted me since I first heard them.


    "If we don¡¯t come back¡­ take care of Mae."


    Mae frowned, her small brows knitting together. She was starting to piece it together.


    I reached out my hand, keeping my voice light, steady. Not for me. For her.


    "Hey, it¡¯s like an adventure. Just the two of us." My smile barely held. "And at the end of it? Cake. Lots of it. We¡¯ll eat like princesses."


    Her eyes lit up at the mention of cake. Her tiny fingers wrapped around mine, warm against my cold skin.


    "Really? Just like a princess?"


    I laughed softly, my heart breaking.


    "Exactly like a princess."


    I led her outside, feeling her small hand gripping mine tighter as we stepped into the night.


    The moment her eyes met Purgatory¡¯s streets, she froze. Her world had been so small. She had lived her life in the safety of their hideout, shielded from the worst of this place. I had almost forgotten how little she had ever seen of the outside world.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    We left the outskirts behind, heading toward Lock & Key.


    Mae was a handful the entire way. Darting off, getting into trouble, stopping every few steps to gawk at something as if she had never seen the world beyond the hideout. Maybe she hadn¡¯t¡ªnot like this. Purgatory¡¯s streets were a mess of movement and noise, a far cry from the hollow silence she was used to.


    I lost count of how many times I had to apologize to irritated shopkeepers and half-drunken mercenaries. At first, I tried just keeping her close, but even with my hand firmly gripping hers, she squirmed, tugging me toward every flickering neon sign, every stray cat, every stand selling fried rat on a stick.


    Eventually, I gave up and asked my bodyguard to carry her.


    She pouted, crossing her arms in defiance, but at least she stopped trying to run.


    I glanced up at the sky, a dull stretch of fog and smog-choked stars.


    On the way home, my thoughts ran in circles, turning over a hundred different ways to explain this to my parents.


    Tomorrow, I was supposed to be leaving. Tonight was supposed to be my date with Jack. Everything had already been decided for me¡ª just like everything else in my life.


    I couldn¡¯t just drop Mae off and disappear.


    But I also knew Mom and Dad wouldn¡¯t magically change their minds. Whatever convinced them to send me to that preppy Ringer school, they weren¡¯t telling me. Just vague, half-assed explanations that didn¡¯t add up.


    We stopped outside Lock & Key.


    The guard set Mae down, and she huffed in annoyance, adjusting the stuffed animal tucked under her arm. I flashed her a small smirk. ¡°Come on. Time to meet my folks.¡±


    Inside, the familiar scent of whiskey and cigar smoke settled over me like an old coat.


    Dad was leaning against the bar, his hat pulled low, the glow of his cigar briefly illuminating his sharp features each time he took a drag. Mom stood behind the counter, absentmindedly drying cups¡ªa habit she fell into whenever something was on her mind.


    Their expressions were tight. Unreadable.


    I frowned.


    Had something happened between them?


    A quick glance around the bar told me nothing was out of place. The usual faces. Hardened men and women, survivors of Purgatory¡¯s worst.


    But just as I opened my mouth to speak¡ª


    Mae let go of my hand.


    She was weaving through the tables, her tiny hands clenched into tight fists. Her dark curls bounced with every determined step, her small face twisted in an expression I''d never seen before¡ªa mix of anger and pure, childlike fear.


    "Hey!" Mae shouted, her voice trembling despite her attempt at bravery. "That''s not yours!"


    I followed her gaze, heart seizing at the sight of the stranger seated alone in the corner. The woman lifted her whiskey glass with calculated slowness, amber liquid shimmering in the dim, wavering light. The hat resting on the table before her was unmistakable; it was Ev¡¯s hat. The one jack made her. My chest tightened painfully. That hat shouldn''t be here¡ªnot with her.


    The stranger tilted her head just slightly, eyes shadowed beneath the wide brim of her own hat. Her posture was casual, almost lazy, but danger radiated from her like heat from a flame. When her voice finally came, it was rough velvet, cold yet oddly smooth.


    "Careful, little mouse," she purred, swirling her drink slowly. "You might just bite off more than you can chew."


    "Hat''s on my head you see." the stranger drawled, her voice rough like gravel and dangerously soft. "That makes it mine." She tilted her head slightly, studying Mae with dark amusement beneath the shadowed brim. "And besides¡­ how would someone like you know anything about it?"


    I stepped forward before Mae could lose control, my heart hammering. My voice held steady, even as panic clawed through my chest. "We knew the person who owned that hat." I forced my gaze unwaveringly on hers. "I''d like to know how you came by it."


    The woman¡¯s gaze shifted languidly to me, eyes glinting with something darkly amused. She leaned back in her chair, fingers tapping lightly against the table. "Happened upon an unfortunate scene that damn near broke my heart¡± she began, her voice low enough to force me to lean in despite my instincts screaming to run. "Two boys. Brothers, I reckon. One looked to have already checked out." She paused, her eyes glittering. "The other... Jack, right? Poor thing was left bleeding out, followed his brother soon after. Kept begging someone named Ev not to leave him. But she did, just like that." Her eyes drifted meaningfully to the hat. "Left this behind, too."


    Jack¡¯s¡­. dead?


    The world tilted beneath my feet. My stomach twisted, bile rising to burn at the back of my throat. It felt like my chest was caving in, crushing my heart with a vice grip. A raw, animalistic pain blossomed inside me, so fierce it almost took my breath away. Every memory I had carefully surged forward, drowning me in grief.


    No. It couldn''t be true. Not Jack. Not him.


    But her voice held no lies. It only carried the cruel satisfaction of truth.


    I forced my body to stay rigid, my muscles tight as steel cables. I wouldn''t break¡ªnot here, not now. Mae was watching me, her eyes wide with confusion and dread. I had to hold it together for her. My heart was breaking apart piece by piece, but no one would see it.


    The woman¡¯s gaze flickered past me, locking onto my parents. She lifted a slow eyebrow, lips curling into a cruel, predatory smile. "Fancy meeting the infamous owners of Lock & Key." She set her glass down, the sharp clink echoing harshly through the sudden silence.


    Dad exhaled a long stream of smoke before speaking. ¡°And why¡¯s The Coyote cleaning up after rat catchers?¡± His tone was even, but I caught the underlying tension. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you took out the trash for a living.¡±


    My father shifted, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You got business here, Coyote, or you just here to cause trouble?"


    Coyote? The name sent ice running down my spine.


    "Just passing through, Wright," Coyote drawled lazily. "But you know how I am¡ªalways finding ways to stir things up."


    Father took a step forward, his hand resting on the handle of his revolver. "Then maybe you best keep moving."


    Coyote chuckled, a slow, menacing sound, her eyes glittering with amusement and venom. "Quite a mouth you got on you, ¡®Claw¡¯," she drawled softly. "Just like your old man." She leaned forward, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Shame he didn''t live long enough to teach you when to shut it."


    The room went dead silent.


    Dad smirked, grinding his cigar slowly into the rim of her whiskey glass. His voice was deadly calm. "Best run along now, Coyote. Otherwise, folks might start thinking we''ve taken to hiring whores." He tilted his head mockingly. "Then again, stick around. My brother might be interested in renting you out¡ªlike your pappy used to."


    The table clattered as Coyote shot to her feet, whiskey glass shattering against the floor as she reached for a weapon. Chairs scraped violently as every patron in the bar stood, hands moving instinctively to theirs. The sharp clicks of hammers being pulled back and safeties flicking off filled the tense air, a deadly chorus of warning. Muzzles gleamed under the dim lights, all aimed squarely at her.


    Mae whimpered beside me. I pulled her close, my fingers trembling, breath hitching. I held my ground despite the fear gnawing at my resolve.


    Yet Coyote stood calm, fingers hovering momentarily over her holster, eyes surveying the room with cool, detached appraisal. After a slow, tense heartbeat, she relaxed, offering a humorless smile as she shrugged on her coat, grabbing a fresh whiskey bottle off the nearest table with deliberate insolence.


    Every weapon remained fixed firmly upon her.


    She moved toward the door with unsettling confidence. Every eye¡ªand every gun¡ªfollowed her. At the threshold, she paused, No fear. Not even a flicker of hesitation.


    "See you around, little mouse."


    Not a threat¡ªa promise.


    She vanished through the door, leaving only the lingering, bitter scent of whiskey and tension behind.


    The room exhaled collectively, chairs scraping against the wooden floors as people settled back into wary silence.


    Mae¡¯s tiny fists trembled at her sides, eyes locked on the door.


    Coyote. I won''t forget that name.


    Dad grumbled, pushing himself off the bar. His eyes immediately landed on Mae, narrowing slightly as he took in the way she clutched my hand like a lifeline, her tangled curls shadowing her worried eyes. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down his face with tired resignation. "And just who might this be?"


    Before I could even begin to answer, he raised a hand to silence me, eyes darkening with quiet intensity. "You''ve got some explaining to do, miss."


    Without another word, he turned and headed toward the back room. I bit my lip, heart hammering anxiously as I tugged Mae gently along. She stumbled beside me, quiet and lost, still shaken from everything she''d heard. It wasn''t fair for her¡ªso young, and already carrying more than anyone her age should bear.


    Donrani lingered near his doorway, his expression unreadable. His eyes briefly met mine, something unspoken passing between us. Had he heard everything? Of course he had. He always did.


    Inside, the back room felt smaller than usual, the air heavy and thick with tension. Mom stood near the couch, silently lighting her pipe, one hand resting gently over the swell of her pregnant belly. Her eyes watched us carefully, her expression a mix of curiosity and guarded concern.


    Dad had already settled himself on the worn couch, leaning back with a sigh, feet propped casually on the coffee table. Both of them fixed their eyes on me expectantly, waiting for answers I struggled to give.


    Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, my voice soft and tentative. "This is Mae," I said, nudging the girl gently forward. "She''s the youngest of Senna''s family."


    A heavy silence followed. Mom''s expression softened immediately, glancing down thoughtfully at her stomach, a flicker of sorrow crossing her features. Dad exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.


    The weight of everything pressed down on me all at once¡ªJack''s absence, Senna''s final words, Ev''s betrayal. My chest tightened painfully, grief threatening to pull me under. Before I realized it, I had sunk to my knees in front of Dad, my trembling hand gripping his tightly.


    "Dad¡­" My voice cracked, wavering as tears blurred my vision. "I¡­I should''ve been there. I should''ve done something¡ªI should''ve helped them. Jack¡­he didn''t deserve this. I didn''t even get to say goodbye, didn''t get to¡­" My voice broke completely, words fading into a quiet, strangled sob


    Dad''s eyes widened slightly, the hardness in his gaze slowly melting into something softer. His hand reached out, resting gently on my shoulder. "Serrani," he murmured quietly, his tone filled with a rare tenderness. "You can''t change what''s done. Ain''t no one got that kind of power."


    I shook my head, tears streaming freely down my face, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably. "But it''s not fair," I choked out. "Jack deserved better than that. He deserved someone who wouldn''t abandon him. He deserved¡ª"


    I swallowed hard, finally lifting my eyes to meet Dad''s gaze directly, letting my voice drop into a raw whisper: "I loved him."


    The admission hung between us, heavy and aching. Dad didn''t look away, didn''t seem surprised. He simply nodded slowly, a deep sadness and understanding in his eyes. "I know, kid," he said gently. "I know."


    Something within me broke then, the careful mask I''d been holding together finally shattering. I pressed my face into Dad''s shoulder, letting the tears flow freely. His hand tightened on my shoulder, steady and reassuring, grounding me as I let go of the weight I''d been carrying.


    After a long moment, Dad finally spoke, his voice calm yet firm. ¡°You cant change what happened, Serrani. Nobody can. The only thing you can control now is how you move forward. You have someone who needs you.¡± He glanced meaningfully toward Mae.


    I wiped my face and exhaled slowly, pressing my fingers against my temples. I had to pull myself together. Falling apart wasn¡¯t an option, not now. Mae was watching, her small face drawn in quiet confusion, waiting for me to tell her what to do next.


    Dad seemed to sense the shift, nodding quietly toward the stairs. "She can take the spare room upstairs. Get her settled, Serrani. Then come back down¡ªyour mother and I have things to talk about with you."


    I wiped my face with the back of my hand, taking a shaky breath to steady myself. Mae looked up at me with wide, uncertain eyes, clearly waiting for guidance.


    Summoning all the strength I could muster, I forced a gentle smile and held out my hand again. "Come on, Mae," I whispered softly, guiding her toward the stairs. "Let''s get you upstairs and into bed."


    She hesitated for a moment, her grip tightening on my sleeve before she finally nodded. I guided her toward the stairs, keeping my pace slow, steady. Each step felt heavier, like the weight of the night was pressing down on me with every movement. My body ached from exhaustion, but I didn¡¯t let it show.


    When we reached the room, I paused at the doorway. Mom and Dad had probably planned to turn this into the new baby¡¯s nursery. It was mostly empty, save for a few old pieces of furniture. A single lantern cast a soft glow across the walls, flickering faintly with each small movement of air.


    Mae climbed onto the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. I picked up a stuffed bunny from a nearby chair, brushing some dust off before handing it to her with a small smile. ¡°Sorry about the cake. We¡¯ll eat tons of it tomorrow.¡±


    She hugged the bunny close, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric like it was her last tether to something safe.


    I brushed the hair from her face as I tucked her in. ¡°Want a bedtime story?¡±


    She nodded.


    I started telling her the story of Princess Rhea, but before I got far, she tugged at my shirt. ¡°Tell me a scary one. Like Senna does.¡±


    I froze. The stillness in her eyes when she said his name twisted something deep inside me. My breath hitched for half a second before I forced myself to smile.


    ¡°Alright. Scary it is.¡±


    She grinned, nestling deeper into the blankets. I started telling her the story of The Mangle, A man turned killing machine stalking abandoned mine tunnels hoping he can one day get his revenge for the people who turned him into a splicer. But as I spoke, Mae¡¯s eyelids drooped, her small body curling into the blankets like a cocoon.


    Her small giggle echoed in my ears, a ghost of a moment long past.


    The warmth of that room, the dim lantern glow, the steady rise and fall of Mae¡¯s breath¡ªit all started to unravel. The scent of wood and whiskey faded, replaced by the sterile, metallic tang of the trolley. The distant murmur of Purgatory¡¯s streets warped and twisted, folding into the dull, rhythmic hum of train tracks beneath me.


    A dull ringing filled my head, distant yet persistent, like a sound carried from another lifetime.


    I blinked awake, my cheek pressed against the trolley window. My face was numb, my body stiff from the awkward angle. The transition between past and present hit like a punch to the gut. The grief that had momentarily dulled came roaring back, raw and suffocating.


    The trolley operator¡¯s voice cut through the haze.


    ¡°Last call for D6!¡±


    Shit.


    I jolted awake, my cheek peeling off the trolley window. A faint ringing echoed in my ears as I wiped the drool from my mouth, blinking the haze of sleep from my eyes. The station lights flickered overhead, casting long, warped shadows against the rusted beams of the platform.


    I scrambled to my feet, grabbing my bag before hopping off just as the doors hissed shut behind me. The stale air of Purgatory hit like a punch to the gut¡ªsmog-heavy, laced with damp metal and lingering oil. The city loomed in the distance, cast in rust and shadow, its jagged skyline a stark reminder that nothing here ever truly changed. The above-ground remains of the abandoned mine stretched toward the sky like broken ribs, skeletal remnants of a world that had long since moved on.


    But that wasn¡¯t what caught my attention.


    A lone figure leaned against the mouth of a nearby alley, flicking a lighter open and closed, the soft click cutting through the silence like a metronome.


    Click.


    He wasn¡¯t waiting for just anyone.


    I exhaled sharply, stepping up beside him. ¡°What do you want, Uncle?¡± My voice carried no warmth.


    Click.


    Vernan Well. Leader of The Brass. My uncle. A man whose ambition had no ceiling, no limit, no conscience. The flame from his lighter briefly illuminated the sharp angles of his face, the faint smirk curling at his lips.


    ¡°What? Can¡¯t a man check in on his favorite niece?¡± His tone was light, almost amused, but I knew better. This wasn¡¯t a social call.


    I crossed my arms, unwilling to entertain whatever game he was playing. ¡°The school¡¯s issuing a trade mission soon for specialists and above. I¡¯ll be on it.¡± The words came out sharper than I intended, but it didn¡¯t matter. A half-truth at best. My grades had tanked, and if the mission were issued now, I wouldn¡¯t make the cut. But I had time. A month, maybe two, to claw my way back.


    Click.


    His hand landed on my shoulder, firm. Just shy of painful. ¡°Careful, kid,¡± he murmured, his gravelly voice dropping an octave. ¡°For the sake of your little psycho friend, I¡¯d watch that tone.¡±


    A chill crawled up my spine. My shoulders tensed, but I shrugged him off, keeping my face neutral. I wouldn¡¯t give him the satisfaction.


    I turned and walked away, ignoring the heavy boots that fell into step behind me. My shadows. The Brass members flanking me, their presence a silent warning to anyone paying too much attention. Even without their weapons in plain sight¡ªthanks to the recent investigator crackdowns¡ªthey were unmistakable.


    The descent into the lower levels of Purgatory was like stepping into another world. The air thickened, heavy with the stench of damp stone, burnt oil, and too many bodies crammed into too little space. Graffiti stretched across the crumbling walls, scrawled threats and faded warnings layered over old gang insignias. A few passersby threw nasty looks my way, but their eyes flicked to the men behind me, and just like that, they found better things to focus on.


    By the time I reached the neon glow of the Lock & Key, my jaw ached from clenching too hard.


    The bar had changed over the years. The second floor had expanded into a proper base of operations, and a third had been added for family quarters. The sign out front flickered faintly, casting warped letters against the cracked pavement below.


    The moment I stepped inside, something small barreled into me.


    ¡°Serrani! Serrani! Let¡¯s play!¡±


    Wyatt. My brother. Seven years old and full of boundless energy, his face scrunched in exaggerated effort as he tried to squeeze the life out of me.


    I chuckled, ruffling his wild hair as I pulled him into a hug. ¡°I gotta see your sister first,¡± I said, nudging his forehead with mine. ¡°We¡¯ll play after, okay?¡±


    ¡°Okayyy¡­¡± Wyatt dragged out the word, throwing a quick glance toward the hallway, then scurried off.


    I followed his gaze to the heavy metal door at the end of the hall.


    Mae¡¯s room.


    It had been months.


    I knocked softly before pushing it open. The air inside was cool, tinged with the faint scent of old books and copper. Only the dim glow of green light broke the darkness, casting eerie shadows along the walls.


    Mae was pacing, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, muttering under her breath. The words were too low to make out, but her tension was palpable, crackling like static in the air.


    I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me.


    ¡°Mae?¡± My voice was careful, quiet.


    She didn¡¯t stop pacing. Didn¡¯t even look up.


    My stomach twisted.


    A stuffed bunny was pinned to the wall, a dagger buried clean through its throat. The blade pulsed faintly, its eerie green glow casting flickering shadows against the stone.


    Jack¡¯s gift to her when she was 7. A pair of daggers.


    I exhaled slowly, my chest tightening. Mae still hadn¡¯t noticed me.


    She stood in the dim glow of her room, long hair falling in tangled waves over her face, her back turned as she muttered to herself. I hadn¡¯t been able to see her much these past few years. Uncle Vernan made sure of that. His idea of ¡°keeping her safe¡± had kept me busy running bribes, smuggling weapons, and doing whatever else he needed out of the city. A trade. A leash. All so I could keep her out of his hands.


    And yet, standing here now, watching her in this dimly lit room, I wondered if I had failed anyway.


    Mae turned, eyes catching the lantern light. ¡°Do you remember,¡± she asked, her voice light¡ªtoo light¡ª¡°the Mangle bedtime story you told me all those years ago?¡±


    She stepped closer, a flicker of excitement sparking behind her emerald gaze.


    I nodded.


    She grinned, but it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. It stretched too wide, something sharp curling at the edges. "I''ve been thinking... the ending sucks."


    Her arms swung wide, like she was directing a grand stage play. ¡°A man-turned-killing-machine, wandering abandoned mine tunnels, waiting for revenge? C¡¯mon. He just waits for them?¡±


    She tilted her head, her expression playful, but something about it made my stomach turn.


    ¡°I like my version better," she continued. "The one where he actually hunts them down. One. By. One.¡±


    Her voice dipped, a slow, deliberate rhythm to each word, letting them sink in like teeth into flesh.


    The air in the room felt colder.


    Every time I came back, she seemed... darker. It was subtle at first. The way she talked, the way she looked at people when she thought no one was watching. Little things. But now, it was something else entirely. A shift I could no longer ignore.


    This wasn¡¯t just growing up. It wasn¡¯t just learning how to survive in Purgatory.


    If it weren¡¯t for Uncle Vernan¡­


    My jaw clenched. How the hell did he even find out about her connection to the others? The only people who knew were me, Mae, Mom, Dad, and Donny. And none of them would¡¯ve breathed a damn word.


    ¡°So, what do you think?¡± Mae¡¯s voice cut through my thoughts.


    I blinked. She was watching me now, waiting, impatience flickering behind her sharp gaze.


    What would Jack think of me?


    I swallowed hard. He¡¯d probably be furious at how little I¡¯d been there for Mae. Or maybe... maybe he¡¯d understand. I couldn¡¯t be in two places at once.


    ¡°Mae, I...¡± I hesitated, feeling the weight of what I was about to say. ¡°Starting next week, I won¡¯t be able to see you for at least five months.¡±


    Her expression barely changed.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna be hell getting my grades back up, and if I make the cut for the trade mission... well, who knows where they¡¯ll send me?¡± The school kept the destination locked down until the last moment. No one got a leg up. No one had time to prepare.


    I¡¯d been on trade missions before, but never one this important.


    Mae pursed her lips. ¡°Another trade mission? Can¡¯t you just¡­ y''know, not go?¡±


    I exhaled a soft chuckle, already expecting her to start prying into the details.


    Instead, she just shrugged. ¡°Alright. Just tell me where you¡¯re going before you leave so I can mark it on our map.¡± She smirked faintly. ¡°I¡¯ll read up on it so I can grill you with questions when you get back.¡±


    She turned toward her bed, rummaging for something. ¡°More importantly, check this out¡ªI learned a new card trick.¡±


    She kept searching, flipping over pillows and blankets, but whatever she was looking for wasn¡¯t where she thought it was.


    I watched her, that gnawing feeling in my gut twisting deeper.


    It was the same reaction as last time. Like she was expecting it. Like she already knew.


    Why did that bother me so much?


    My stomach twisted, a cold weight settling in my chest. I rubbed the back of my neck, forcing myself to shake it off, but the unease lingered.