《Dead Circus》


 1.01 Welcome to Concordia

    Concordia was a city charmed by devils, a concrete metropolis built with bones and fueled by blood. But, on the surface, you''d never know because the neon lights are as blinding as the placebo of life is intoxicating. The smallest coffee shop could''ve been selling kids from the basement, and as long as those kids weren''t human, no one would''ve batted an eye.


    I knew the strains of the title ''devil,'' though, it was not a moniker I wore willingly. None of us did, that is, the scapegoats for all of Concordia''s shortcomings, cambions. We were like humans and wanted to be equal to them, but equality was a constraint society wasn''t ready for.


    Humans had a monstrous history that brought the world to near destruction, yet, we were the ones vilified for their mistakes. Though I''m getting ahead of myself, I honestly thought I knew what it was to be human before I learned the truth.


    That day started like any other, stealing from a small corner store. Today''s target was Vilio''s fruit stand, a tiny joint situated at the end of the produce market in sector 18.


    It was a light crowd, right after lunch in the early afternoon. Perfect time for me to make my ¡°purchase.¡± Don¡¯t judge me; I didn''t steal for fun; I did it out of necessity. I couldn¡¯t find work and a guy had to eat somehow, right? Besides, I knew Vilio was getting a new shipment soon and would write me off as a bad experience. I did my best to limit my thieving''s inconvenience, so no harm in the long run as far as I was concerned.


    I squeezed through the small group in front of the stand and surveyed my options. It was a usual spread for this sector, apples, grapes, bananas, and oranges, nothing that screamed wealth like starfruit or strawberries.


    ¡°You staring or buying, kid?¡±


    It was Vilio himself, rudely assessing my value as a customer. Granted, I would''ve too if I were him, judging solely from the way I was dressed. Beaten slacks and a worn-out leather jacket don¡¯t suit many, especially not some homeless-looking teenager in Concordia''s lowest end sector.


    ¡°Are you haggling or harassing me, Vilio? What? Is looking before I buy illegal just cause I''m a kid?¡±


    What I said must¡¯ve struck something because he backed off immediately; however, he didn''t look apologetic. He was probably caught off guard being called out by someone younger than him in front of a crowd. He left me alone and turned his attention to his other guests.


    I watched closely as a woman came up and told him what they wanted while rifling through her purse for tokens. Vilio pulled a bag from beneath the counter and filled it as she talked. He was intimidating, at least 2 meters tall, and a laborer''s physique. But, big meant slow, and that made my job easier.


    Bingo, that''s mine.


    I can¡¯t explain how I did it, but I was quick with these things. Like, very quick. While Vilio was focused on exchanging tokens for the fruit, the bag was already in my hand, and I was halfway down the street. I was able to turn the corner before I heard them screaming after me.


    ¡°Hey! Where''d that kid go?¡±


    "He took the bag right out of my hands!"


    They wouldn''t catch me. No one ever did. That was the luxury of deft hands and backstreet knowledge; by the time they figured out which alley I had ducked into, I was already two streets over. I guess if you¡¯re forced to be a street rat, at least be good at it.


    Sector 18 was the poorest, and we mostly had the water treatment plant to thank for that. No one wanted to live there, so profitable businesses were scarce. There was also a fair amount of crime and not just small timers like me. With this sector being right on the inner harbor, it was easy to transport whatever kind of contraband you needed. For the most part, the military police''s presence here was limited, as they only patrolled the exit gates to keep people from leaving freely.


    I traversed the sector like a cartographer, and I could tell you where anything was from the unmarked sell houses to the corner HIZ dealer. I kept my impoverished kingdom well hidden; twelve cardboard boxes stacked meticulously behind a dumpster in the corner of the alley behind the water treatment plant. But my home wasn''t the boxes; it was the grate leading to the underground tunnels beneath the boxes. I lifted it and jumped in, letting the metal grate slam down behind me.


    I called them secret tunnels for effect, but they were old sewer channels. From what I''d heard, it was the sewer system that existed before establishing the walled city-states. Not sure how true it was since the city-state system had been in place for hundreds of years. Regardless, the dry corridors made me feel like less of a sewer rat and more of a sly bandit, but whatever the moniker, I was what I need to be to help myself. When the world turns on you, you turn on the world.


    ¡°Sylas! You¡¯re back!¡±


    Well, I guess I hadn''t turned entirely on the world. I tried to help people that needed more help than me. My fellow sewer dwellers scurried out from the dark tunnel ahead of me. Four munchkins that begged for me to bring them food every day without fail as if they couldn¡¯t go out and do it themselves! The leader of the small bunch, Palm, always approached me with her hands firmly planted on her hips, demanding my respect.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°I promise, Sylas. When I get older, I¡¯ll help you get food. Someone has to help you feed Kay''s fat tummy! I bet Bonnie and Lucas would help too!¡±


    I was offputting if I¡¯m earnest. This little mind reader was in my head.


    ¡°No, Palm,¡± I smiled, ¡°there¡¯s no need for that. I¡¯m fine working on the streets by myself. Besides, I''m old enough not to draw suspicion. A little kid like you would get swooped up by the blues immediately!¡±


    ''Blues'' was what people called the military police. It had become somewhat derogatory over the years, but it started because of their navy uniforms.


    I handed out the spoils to my children. They weren''t my kids, but what else was I supposed to call them? My munchkins? That¡¯s disrespectful. However, I sometimes felt like they were my kids, just adopted. I gave them food, and they gave me company and trinkets they found in the tunnels; this was the agreement we''d had for about a year.


    We all had recently celebrated Palm''s birthday, with some slightly stale bread and a sack of raw potatoes. I wasn''t sure how old the other three were. I had guessed that Kay was likely Palm''s age; he had that baby fat look to him and big brown eyes that didn¡¯t show signs of aging yet. I knew Bonnie and Lucas were twins, and they were also the youngest.


    Then there was me: Sylas, the teenage foster father.


    ¡°Besides, Palm, you¡¯d get eaten up by this city. You¡¯re far too cute, I¡¯m afraid. You lack my sharp eyes and foreboding features! No one would take you seriously with your pigtails.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with my piggies!¡± she protested. She always kept her hair pulled into tight pigtails. They looked like bundled straw sitting atop a puppy''s face.


    I''d say whatever I needed to keep the kids from becoming like me, even if it meant taking on more risk myself. At that time, all I was concerned with is getting them safely to Sector 13 by the outer bay. I had heard there was a refuge for orphans there. I doubted they''d take me in, but that was fine as long as the kids were somewhere safer than the sewers.


    ¡°I think you look cool! Like a supervillain!¡± Kay shouts over Palm¡¯s pigtail dejections.


    A supervillain, huh? I don¡¯t know about the super part, but the villain made me sound edgy.


    ¡°Kay, your mouth, keep it closed while you eat. You¡¯re spitting apple chunks.¡± Palm shouted back.


    Kay raised the apple back to his face and continued munching on it. Bonnie approached me, and beneath the dim light cast from the sewer grate, I could see her emerald eyes, framed by dark curtains for hair. Every time a car passed over the grate, things would go dark for a second, and time seemed to stand still.


    ¡°Why would the blues take us?¡± she asked me softly.


    Darkness, then thin streams of light returned. Bonnie was the hardest for me to see living like this. Her face carried an innocence I had trouble understanding. Lucas was more like me, housing realism in his green eyes instead of hope.


    ¡°Is it cause of Dead Circus?¡± she continued.


    Darkness returned for much longer this time. The stone ceiling above us trembled under the weight of the busy road. I supposed the workday must''ve been over, and the workers from the water treatment plant were returning home. The stone''s cracks would birth tiny meteors and swirls of dust, only visible as the light filtered back in. This darkness came with a decree of silence, and I held my breath till the light returned.


    ¡°Bonnie. Where did you hear about them?¡±


    Bonnie looked petrified as if she¡¯d just told a secret to someone who wasn¡¯t supposed to know it. Palm stepped between us.


    ¡°I can explain-¡°


    ¡°No,¡± Bonnie interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I can tell him.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what?¡± I responded.


    ¡°I heard people talking about Dead Circus through the radio.¡±


    Dead Circus was a taboo in Concordia. They were challenging to describe, and you''d get varying accounts dependent on who was answering. They were either silent heroes or violent villains, and they''d judge you based on which you decided they were. To me, they were just another wobbly leg on an already weak societal chair.


    I knelt, my arms crossed over my knees. I tried to put Bonnie at ease, coming down to her level. Her face lost its tension a bit, but she continued to pull nervously at the bottom of her dress.


    ¡°What¡­radio?¡± I asked, as calmly as my anxious mind would let me.


    I then noticed that Lucas was gone for the first time, and I stood, turning my body and straining my eyes to find him in the dark. He came up from behind me, with the radio in his arms.


    ¡°This¡­this radio, Mr. Sylas,¡± he stammered.


    I took it from him and looked it over in my hands. As I feared, it was an MP radio, but it was brandished with a symbol I¡¯ve never seen before, an embellished and stylized C within a diamond. I''d seen the blues do this before; they would leave trackers for children to find, then follow them back to where they lived. We would need to leave the radio where they found it then relocate, to my displeasure.


    ¡°Where did you guys find this? I told you not to leave the tunnels without me, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Lucas kicked the dirt around him, hands behind his back and head held down. Bonnie walked around me to hug his arm. Palm came to my side, showing disappointment toward Bonnie and Lucas for revealing the secret. Then there was Kay, who has just obliviously finished choking down the last of his apple.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t leave Mr. Sylas. Bonnie and I found it down here a couple of days ago,¡± Lucas responded.


    Uh oh.


    If they''d been keeping this a couple of days, I would need to move us quickly. Thankfully, the only indication it was even working was the blinking red light on the top of it. So, while it was active, it didn¡¯t seem to be receiving anything at the moment.


    Or so I thought.


    ¡°I heard the blues only take kids because if they didn¡¯t, Dead Circus would eat them,¡± Palm says nervously. She looks up at me, "Is that true, Sylas?"


    I shook my head, no.


    ¡°They¡¯re complicated from what I hear. But complicated doesn''t mean people eaters. Besides, I''ve told you the blues aren''t to be trusted either.¡±


    Kay stood up to join the powwow.


    ¡°I heard they help people in need. Unlike the dumb blues!¡± Kay shouted.


    ¡°Sorry, Kay, even if that''s true, they don¡¯t help people like us. We aren''t their kind.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know much back then about the city I was chained down within. I didn¡¯t have the blissful ignorance of a child, but I didn''t have the knowledge to escape my situation. All I wanted was to be free of the imposing lights, the overbearing skyscrapers, the heavy chains of a society that didn¡¯t want me.


    Life wasn¡¯t fair for anyone, and the most unfair part was the understanding that there was no getting better. Concordia was the type of city where you lived with what you were given. But, the city never thought about how you''re supposed to live with what you had taken.


    Beep. Beep. Beep.

 1.02 Cold Cruel World

    Fuck.


    My mind raced with a million different solutions to this scenario. I could leave the kids here and start over somewhere else. But, if the military police were coming now, I would probably run into them while trying to flee. I wanted to escort the kids out, but I feared that we''d be sitting ducks with too big of a group.


    The radio''s light illuminated us in a sickly green, and it beeped steadily. We were out of time, and whoever planted the radio was coming for it.


    Kay ran over to me, ¡°Sy, what is-¡°


    I quickly slapped my hand across Kay¡¯s mouth before gesturing for him to remain silent. I ushered Bonnie and Lucas toward us so that all the kids were gathered around my legs.


    "We know you''re down here! Just call out your names, and we can get you to the surface!"


    I knew it. The voices called out to us just as flashlights illuminated the far end of the tunnel. I could hear boots pounding the stone, coming toward us fast.


    I knelt down, softly addressing the kids, ¡°everyone, listen to me. I¡¯ve prepared you for this. Follow the tunnel to our next meeting spot, and I¡¯ll meet you there afterward.¡±


    Palm shook her head while frantically clawing my shoulder.


    ¡°Sylas, no, we need you to come with us!¡± she protested.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright; I¡¯ll be right behind you once I deal with this. Everyone follow


    Palm and listen to whatever she tells you.¡±


    I shook the kids off me, and they reluctantly followed my orders. I smashed the radio on the floor, crunching the bits of plastic and wiring beneath my shoe.


    ¡°Damn those kids,¡± I muttered under my breath.


    I didn''t have long, and the kids needed time to getaway. I had to do something to distract or detain these intruders.


    ¡°Signal just went out; they must¡¯ve destroyed the radio, but they must be up ahead in this opening on the map.¡±


    A map? How had they gotten a map of this old sewer system?


    I put my back up against the darkest part of the wall I could see, far from the only other light source in the room, the sewer grate above. I was hidden, and I watched as the group finally turned the corner, passing by me to the remains of the radio. Their flashlights illuminated the space, revealing nothing but stone and concrete.


    Good. I guess the kids managed to get ahead. There were four men, heavily armed, but not blues, to my surprise. These men wore olive overcoats, their faces covered with masks. They stumbled upon the remains of the radio and sifted through the wreckage before pulling out a single component.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Thought so. The silo receptor is active. I guess we were right about the kids.¡±


    I felt my skin tighten, and my stomach churn. Kids? So it was a plant? How did they even know to look here? The man examining the radio pressed his fingers to his right ear.


    ¡°Team 2, targets confirmed. One of the kids is an unconfirmed category 1 Cambion.¡±


    I heard a slight crackle in the air, then someone responds.


    "Acknowledged. Shoot-to-kill authorization granted. Please proceed with caution."


    I couldn''t believe what I was hearing. I sat on bated breath, hoping for some reason that these men would just leave. My heart twitched behind my swollen lungs as a building pressure mounted behind my eyes.


    Would they really kill some random kids over suspicions? Cambions are dangerous mutants, but I¡¯d been with the kids long enough to know none of them were out of the ordinary.


    All my misguided thoughts of leaving the children dissipated; I couldn''t let them die just to save myself. Additionally, Cambions were supposed to be eccentric-looking, with odd hair and eye colors. Are they so similar to humans that I couldn¡¯t tell them apart? No. No way. They were planning to kill these kids just on a hunch with no evidence.


    ¡°Team 1¡­copy. We are entering the sewer at Lebroad street now. Weapons are hot, preparing to engage category 1 if spotted.¡±


    Let¡¯s see, Palm has smokey blue eyes. Kay has a set of hazel, and the twins each have dark green eyes. There¡¯s no way any of them wear contacts, and none of them fit the physical description of a Cambion. What is this all about? It doesn¡¯t matter¡­I must do something, or they¡¯ll be found soon.


    I stepped out of the shadows. I didn¡¯t mean to, but I did it anyway. While in the middle of thinking of a way out, my body decided that this was the way. The men in front of me heard my step crunch small rocks beneath my foot.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there!?¡± they shouted.


    Their spotlights illuminated me, leaving everything else in darkness. I shielded my eyes with my arm.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take a step closer!¡±


    I stopped as they commanded. Through my obscured vision, I saw weapons raised at me. They were handguns, but they could still do a person in quickly.


    ¡°Can I help you guys out?¡±


    ¡°No! You can stay right there and tell us who you are!¡±


    ¡°Is that all? My name is Sylas. That¡¯s all you came for, right? I can show you the way out.¡±


    They weren''t thrilled with my attempts to joke and scowled at me together.


    ¡°Do you guys practice that? You¡¯re all in unison; it¡¯s pretty entertaining!¡±


    I smiled widely and threw my hands in my pockets, then took a small step toward them.


    Bang.


    I was struck in the shoulder with something fast but so heavy, it lurched my body back toward the wall. I fell to the ground, gripping my left shoulder. My vision bounced and became fuzzy for fleeting moments, and I removed my hand to see it covered in blood. I felt intense heat scorching across my skin. My whole left arm was on fire, and I couldn''t feel anything above my elbow.


    ¡°We told you not another step. The next one will kill you.¡±


    One man took the lead and stood over me, pointing his weapon down at my head. The pain was excruciating. I felt the blood from the wound engulf my torso, dyeing my dirty white shirt a shade of deep crimson.


    ¡°Whret he clihdern ouy wree whti?¡±


    What did he say? I could see his mouth moving, but his words were muffled. My ears rang, and it sounded as if walls themselves were screeching at me. My vision was fading, the image of the men dipping in and out of the blackness. The grip I had on my shoulder became increasingly weaker as my willpower became limp. I slowly inched myself up against the wall.


    Shit, why did I step forward? I could¡¯ve stayed in the dark and waited for them to leave. But then the kids wouldn¡¯t have had a chance. But who am I kidding? What would I accomplish by getting killed? At least if I had stayed out of sight, someone would survive this.


    Shit.


    Shit.


    I felt blood seep from the corners of my damp lips. Why was this man standing over me? Was he watching me die for fun? My ears ceased ringing for just long enough to hear something.


    ¡°Just kill him already. We need to get going," one of the men shouted from the back.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know who the Cambion is, and we didn¡¯t know about this guy.


    I¡¯m waiting to see if his Crown triggers.¡±


    Crown? What are these guys going on about?


    Shit.


    Not like it matters, I can feel myself slipping¡ªstupid Sylas. Always looking out for others, and for what? Where has it ever gotten you?


    Shit.


    The pain was unbearable. The only alleviation I felt was the numbness overtaking my body. Past my assailants, I saw the light from the sewer grate disappear as a vehicle passed over top. Gravel from the ceiling crumbled down onto my face, gripping loosely to the blood and grime I was wearing.


    Shit.


    I felt those were my final moments as my hearing utterly disappeared. The heat swallowed me, and I was drowning in my own blood. I watched the man above me; his hand was steady, with no shake at all as he aimed down on me. His finger slowly moved from the side of the weapon to the trigger. A gun''s trigger is ironically delicate, delivering death with less effort than it takes to snap your fingers.


    My face was damp. Blood, sweat, and tears all felt the same at that moment. My arm fell limp to my side. I tried to squeeze my hand but lacked the strength to do so.


    Shit.


    As the numbness began to overtake me, I felt oddly tranquil. With no feeling in my body, all I could do was watch particles dance around me, illuminated by the flashlights of my killers. Was it particles of dust that carelessly hopped in front of my face, teasing me? No, I don''t think it was. The man pressed down gently on the trigger, and the last thing I saw before closing my eyes was the flash of the barrel.

 1.03 The Space Between

    I''d spent my whole life imagining what death might feel like, but at that moment, I thought it was taking way too long.


    I waited and waited and waited, and waited. Nothing. I was sure the first time I was shot that it hit me much faster. This was just cruel, knowing death was coming but being forced to wait on it. I didn''t even get the ''life flashing'' experience everyone claimed would happen upon death. Frankly, my death was to be as lackluster and pathetic as the rest of my life.


    My impatience bested me, so I opened my eyes and saw four men in front of me. Three were positioned beneath the sewer grate, dimly lit from above, the fourth over my body, hand outstretched with his weapon aimed at me.


    Wait.


    My body? I could see my body across the room on the floor. I examined myself, and everything seemed normal. I could move my body naturally, even jump and squat. There was no pain, no suffering. My body I saw on the ground, however, was severely beaten.


    Wait.


    I looked at the men beneath the sewer grate again. The particles I was just watching moments before stood still in the light. I walked toward the men and find them completely motionless, frozen in space. The particles around them weren''t specs of dust; they were foreign to me, like someone seeing snow for the first time. Next, I checked the man with the gun, and I saw him in an identical state to the others.


    Wait¡ªthe bullet.


    I saw it between his gun and my injured body. It was hanging in the air, still as a photograph. Even the flash from the barrel was frozen. I knelt next to myself; I didn¡¯t look alive. I looked between my two bodies and found no scratch on myself now¡ªno dirt, no blood, no sign that anything had happened. My shirt was cleaner than it was this morning even, and my shoes showed no scuffs or wear.


    ¡°Hey murderers, can you hear me?¡±


    No response.


    ¡°Interesting. Is this the afterlife? Being forced to witness your own death repeatedly? If so, fuck you, God!¡±


    I stood back up to examine the bullet closer.


    Wait.


    "It''s¡­still moving?¡±


    The bullet''s movement was so slight, it was almost unnoticeable. But I stared at it for long enough to confirm that it was still moving toward my injured body, so slow it was almost imperceptible. I reached out to try and touch it.


    ¡°SHIT! THAT¡¯S HOT!¡±


    I recoiled from the pain. I should¡¯ve thought a bit more; the first thing I felt when getting hit with one of those was the heat, after all. My confirmation of the bullet''s movement meant that everything else must have been moving as well, just slower.


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t let this thing hit me. I need something to help me move it.¡±


    I looked around, and nothing immediately caught my eye. No debris or rubble big enough for me to poke it out of the path of my injured body. Then, I noticed all the men wearing gloves with padding and hard knuckles. I walked to the man who shot me and grabbed him by the wrist. He wasn''t wearing any identification like the blues did. The only marker on his coat was the same symbol I had found on the radio. It was embroidered on the left breast pocket, with ''CDA'' below it.


    "Who are these guys? I''ve never seen uniforms like these.¡±


    I slid his left-handed glove off and put it on. I tried again to touch the bullet, and this time it didn¡¯t burn me.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°I need to move this away from me before I get any more fucked up.¡±


    I gripped it between my fingers and held it for a moment. I could feel it vibrating, pulling toward where it was shot. That''s when it really set in, this man was going to kill me. He didn¡¯t hesitate to take my life with as little effort as snapping fingers. His face was calm, composed, unwavering. I had tried to forget this type of look on a person, but I knew it well.


    I was a kid to these men, a teenager scrounging around in some abandoned old tunnels. Sure, I was a thief around sector 18, but I was just some sewer rat to these guys. Yet, despite my insignificance in their lives, they condemned me to die. For what? What crime had I committed that constituted the punishment of death? I knew this city and its dictators were cruel, but this type of treatment was diabolical.


    I moved the bullet behind his head and removed the gun from his hand. He would be the one to die now, not me. For some reason, I''d been given a choice here; the option to trade his life for mine, to survive while he didn''t. This man probably had a wife and kids at home. However, all I felt then was if he did have a family, they''d be better off without him coming home.


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll leave the rest and see if I can catch up to the kids.¡±


    I walked away, leaving my body behind. I still wasn''t sure what was happening, but I could help the kids with my new, uninjured self before it was too late. However, as I passed by the other men, I felt a powerful tug against my chest. I nearly fell as an immense pressure bombarded me, ushering me back toward the scene, almost as if I had hit a wall, firmly cemented in the empty space in front of me.


    ¡°Damn it, what the hell?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t pass; I pushed and thrust but was repeatedly tossed back by nothing. I was stuck there, surrounded by frozen harbingers of my inevitable demise. It was hardly poetic justice, but more of a cruel joke of a way to end my life. The kids were going to die in the same tunnels I had convinced them were safe. What could I do? I couldn¡¯t fight my way out of something I didn¡¯t understand.


    Wait


    If time was frozen here, was it safe to assume it was frozen everywhere? If that was the case, then the children weren''t in danger after all, at least not until I found a way to release this stasis. Whatever force was holding me here obviously felt my business was unfinished. I decided to bank on the kids being safely frozen in time, and I walked back to the other three men.


    For the first time, the nature of my situation dawned on me.


    ¡°Was¡­I the Cambion they were looking for?¡±


    Cambions were supernatural beings the government warned people about repeatedly. They were nearly identical to humans but often had out of place features like their hair color or even strange markings. Though, more specifically, we were always warned about their eyes. Cambions were said to have striking eyes of unnatural vibrance but devoid of all humanity.


    Cambions had strange powers, allowing them to do things people only dreamed about or saw in video games and movies. Though, few people had ever met a cambion in their life. The Concordian government vilified their existence, citing them as a threat to humanity, like a plague or natural disaster. To most people, including myself, Cambions were somewhat of a boogieman story, and we doubted their relevance.


    I had heard about Jaegers shortly after I began living on the street. They were a military group that specialized in locating and eliminating Cambion children. They''d often work through the blues, having normal children taken from the street for screening. Like Cambions, most people felt the Jaegers didn''t exist and were just a ruse to garner more tax dollars. This group must have been them, though, which would explain why I didn¡¯t recognize their uniforms.


    "Well, if Cambions are real, then it can''t be me. Cambions are supposed to manifest between the ages of 5 and 7. I''m 15 and have never exhibited any traits.¡±


    The still world around me did not reply to my protests, as my words fell deafly onto the cold stone. No matter how much I denied it, I was alone in this frozen space with only the unwanted truth for company. This would change everything. If I survived to make it out of this tunnel, I''d be hunted forever by the government. Where would I go? Where would I hide?


    "Dead Circus..."


    They were labeled as a terrorist group, but they were the only official Cambion organization recognized by the government. Would they protect me? If they did, what would the cost be? Would I be forced into a life of terrorism and crime? Well, I guess I was already a small-time criminal. My life in the tunnels wasn¡¯t a glorious one, but it was the life I had made work.


    "I guess I can''t argue with what is in front of me. I''m a Cambion, and this must be my power. I need to figure out how it works. I can''t remain in stasis forever."


    What did I know? I knew I was about to die. That must have been the trigger for what happened. I could freely move around this area up to a certain distance. I also knew that I was outside of my old body while still interacting with everything around me. Other than that, everything moved at speeds so slow it looked stationary.


    Wait.


    I turned to my body, still heaped on the ground in a disheveled state. It was a sad and strange sensation, as it''s challenging to explain watching yourself die. I walked to it and reach my hand out, but it began to pass through my head. I try to yank it back quickly, but my hand got caught for a moment before slipping free.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like that. That¡¯s not comforting at all.¡±


    The only thing I was incapable of directly interacting with was my original body. It was helpful information, telling me that this new body must be some kind of projection, and my old one was my physical anchor to reality. This helped me develop a theory that things may return to normal if I return to my body. But, I wasn¡¯t prepared for that to happen. I¡¯d turned the bullet toward Mr. Wants to kill me, so if time returned, it would hit him instead of me. But, if that were to happen, I¡¯d have three more killers ready to take aim at me.


    I walked to the others, and one by one, I positioned their bodies in a circle. Each had their weapon in hand, finger resting off to the side of the trigger. I arranged their arms next, making each point next in the circle, their guns aimed at each other''s heads. I carefully took each firearm and forced their fingers down on the trigger.


    Why were my hands shaking? It¡¯s not like they could do anything to me right now. So, what was I so nervous about? If I didn¡¯t do this, they''d kill me for sure. I was just repaying what they sought to give me, same as the man who shot me. Death was a fickle thing to me. It bore the weight of the world, yet, killing was a disturbingly liberating feeling.


    I had always valued life to a fault, helping others wherever I could. Ever since being abandoned by my mother, the concept of family was crucial to me. Deep down, I would''ve traded my life for the lives of the kids 10 times over. Now, I was given the power to trade lives for mine, and it felt good to be on this side of things.


    I finished my presentation of the bodies and returned to my own, accepting I''d forever be a killer after this. I laid down within myself and felt a strong force yank me into place. I looked once more at the lives soon to be no more and closed my eyes.


    Oddly enough, the serenade of gunshots brought me comfort.

 1.04 A Meeting of Devils

    I felt a dribble of blood escape my ears as violent echoes overtook the tunnel. I opened my eyes and saw my choices before me, four men laid on the ground, adorned in blood and lifelessness. Their heads were open, caved in on one side while burst apart on the other. They spilled blood by the pint, soaking the floor.


    I felt my stomach churn, and I¡¯d have thrown up at the sight, but I simply didn''t have the strength. The pain in my shoulder persisted, and I struggled to hoist myself from the ground, using the wall for support.


    There was no way the noise didn¡¯t attract some attention, so I needed to move before it was too late. I got my ass off the ground slightly before crumbling again. My left shoulder no longer burned as it did before, but the aches and numbness remained. My legs felt like straw, loosely bound together with unrealistic expectations of holding my weight.


    I tried to push again, pressing my right hand firmly on the blood-soaked stone. My left arm hung loosely at the shoulder where I was struck, and as I forced myself up, I managed to slide a knee beneath my body to support myself. My breathing had grown harsh and choppy as I struggled to inhale through fits of coughing blood. I''d probably had my lungs punctured by fragments of the bones broken within me.


    ¡°Shit, I couldn¡¯t have had an ability to heal injuries too? What good is saving myself from death if I¡¯m still going to die anyway?¡±


    I trudged forward, my feet scraping through the red as I drag them along. All my victims were unrecognizable, their faces painted across the floor like abstract splash art.


    ¡°I hope for their families¡¯ sake that they carry some ID. What kind of person needs weapons like this?¡±


    I noticed one of the guns resting peacefully in a pool of the owner''s blood. We were always warned by the media to be careful of Cambions and their dangerous abilities. Yet, weapons meant to maim and disfigure people like these flew under the radar, carried by the city''s ''protectors.'' I fought my ailing body but managed to pick the weapon up.


    It was cold to the touch, heavy and metallic. I turned it over and traced my finger over metal notches, buttons, and tiny levers. The idea that something so seemingly fragile could cause so much destruction was frightening to me.


    ¡°It came from this way!¡±


    I quickly put the gun into my jacket pocket and turned to see more flashlights beaming down the tunnel. I stepped over the dead men and moved as fast as my body would allow me in the direction the kids went. My left leg dragged, limping behind in my stride. I didn¡¯t feel the same pain as before; it¡¯d been replaced with dullness overtaking the left side of my body. I was still losing blood, but the flow has slowed since my ability activated.


    Shit.


    Not only was I moving too slow, but I was leaving behind a trail of blood to follow. I guess it didn¡¯t matter; I was dead whether I ran or not. The kids shouldn¡¯t have gone far. The sewer was a winding maze, but I''d taught them how to get around. Our rendezvous point was only a few streets away, and we knew how to count streets based on the sewer grates overhead.


    ¡°It''s getting dark out, but the fact that there is still light coming in tells me I was partially right. Time must have stopped completely, and not just around me.¡±


    The lights shining behind me disappeared for a moment.


    ¡°We got bodies here! Four dead, the Cambion has to be down here!¡±


    ¡°Shit, there¡¯s no more time. I have to find the kids.¡±


    The fleeting light from above quickly dissolved, leaving me alone in dank shadows. I pressed myself into the side of the tunnel, both to help guide me forward and to help wavering body. It shouldn¡¯t be much further, one more street and I would be there. But, I found that I had hit my limit. I collapsed onto the ground, barely staying upright with the help of the wall.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    My brain told my muscles to move, but I felt nothing. Damn it, if I was a Cambion, then where was my supernatural strength? Where was my durability? Cambions were supposed to be superior to humans; it was the reason humans hated them. Yet, of all the Cambions hidden in the world, I must have been the only one dying from blood loss in a sewer.


    "How fucking lame is this-" I choked on the blood in my mouth while trying to speak.


    No matter what I was in life, it didn''t seem to matter. All roads for me would lead here, a worthless and meaningless death to cap off a useless and empty life. I felt terrible for the kids that they looked up to someone like me.


    Wait, the kids. No matter how much I griped about my life, I was the only one in the world that could do anything to help them. Despite how meaningless I felt, right then, I was one of a kind, the only person capable of doing this job. No matter what happened to me, I would make sure those kids made it out of this tunnel alive.


    By this point, my left side was dead, unmoving despite my efforts. I reached for the pistol in my coat, barely able to pull it out with my shaking hands. If I was going to help Palm, Lucas, Bonnie, and Kay, I needed to jumpstart and get over this hump of fatigue. Despite the pain that getting shot initially had caused, it also filled me with adrenaline.


    I took the gun and pressed the barrel into my right thigh, then pulled the trigger. The shot would''ve alerted everyone in the tunnel, but that was what I wanted. I wanted every murderer in here to know I was still alive, and I was ready to take as many of them with me as I could so the kids could escape.


    I felt the adrenaline surge, overtaking the searing pain in my thigh. I managed to avoid an artery but likely cracked or shattered my femur. I pressed anyway, pressing all of my weight on to broken and feeble bones and muscle until I was finally standing again.


    Then, I was assaulted by floodlights shining past me deep into the tunnel. I covered my face with my right arm while trying to keep the gun aimed ahead of me. My eyes were getting heavier; they throbbed and became foggy.


    ¡°Where are they? What do you want from us?¡± I screamed. My throat burned as I muscled out the words. I let loose several gunshots into the blinding lights.


    I heard a faint clapping, but it grew louder as the lights lowered from my face. I moved my arm to let my eyes readjust. A tall man stepped out in front of me, dressed in a long olive coat, adorned with gold accents and medals on the left breast. His face was vague but fiendish, and his hair was tucked beneath an officer¡¯s cap. He stood over me, poised as if to mock the crumpled posture I struggled to hold against the wall.


    ¡°Are you the one we¡¯re looking for?¡± he said softly. The words slithered off his lips as if flickered into my ear from the mouth of a serpent.


    I aimed the gun right between his eyes and pulled the trigger.


    Click.


    Click.


    Click. Click. Click. Click.


    What irony, that the gun would run empty before my aimless fighting spirit. I felt my body slip down the wall, but I continued to hold myself up with as much strength as I could.


    ¡°We tested the other¡¯s bodies. No matches, unfortunately. But none of those children mentioned someone like you.¡±


    The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and I could feel the color drain from my complexion, leaving my arms paperwhite. The man approached me and extended his arm. He gripped my face, his hand wrapped around my jaw. I tried to recoil but only managed to lose the gun. I had no strength left.


    The serpent''s eyes were vibrant red but lacked any emotion. There was no shake, quiver, or inconsistency in this creature''s gaze. It bored through me, answering questions I hadn¡¯t even been asked from my expression alone.


    ¡°You killed my other men, didn¡¯t you? How interesting.¡±


    I was still losing my footing and could feel my loosening grip on reality.


    ¡°How did you do it? Was it your Arma? Or did you use some bullets on them too? I have many questions, so please stay awake.¡±


    I could barely keep up with his words. What was this guy talking about? Couldn''t he tell I was one foot in death¡¯s door? I couldn''t answer any of this sketchy guy¡¯s question, even if I knew what he was asking.


    I tried to focus on the man¡¯s face. It was calm, studious as if he was performing some kind of examination just by looking at me. His jaw was sharp, his features tight and angular. I''ve never forgotten his eyes, pools of flaming blood ready to engulf me in an instant.


    ¡°Maybe you just don¡¯t want to talk to me.¡± He released me, and I collapsed to the floor on my knees.


    My head hung low, and the cold stone wall was the only thing that keeping me from toppling over. I watched his feet as he took a few steps back. Then, small footsteps approached me.


    ¡°Sylas? Why didn¡¯t you tell us?¡±


    ¡°Palm? Palm, is that you?¡± I frantically responded.


    She stepped out of the darkness from behind the man and approached me. My vision continued fading in and out, but I could see her; I could see her pigtails clear enough to know it was Palm.


    ¡°The bad men were looking for you, Sylas¡­we tried to help¡­to keep them from you-¡°


    ¡°Palm, stop. This is my fault, not yours. I should¡¯ve been more prepared for something like this. I should¡¯ve known how to protect you.¡±


    Tears streamed down my face, carving paths like a river through canyons of blood and dirt.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to fix this, so you and the others can continue on like I taught you.¡± I strained my neck, just enough to see the devil himself standing over Palm. His eyes were glowing red, with a demonic horn extending from his cap. Did I imagine it?


    ¡°You¡­¡± I coughed, ¡°Take me or kill me or whatever you want. But let the kids go.¡±


    I felt Palm embrace me, wrapping her arms around my hanging shoulders. ¡°Sylas¡­¡± Palm¡¯s voice faded as the man¡¯s cheeks pulled into a heinous grin.


    Palm¡¯s body collapsed in front of me, and despite my failing eyes, I could see her clearly. A deep gash was carved into her throat. I caught a glimpse of her left eye, lifeless, and grey. Her right eye was¡­gone¡­a bloody socket in its place.


    My ears began to ring, and my head felt fuzzy and hectic, like a whirlwind drowning my consciousness. The man approached me again, and the horn was gone; his eyes no longer glowed.


    ¡°We are alike, you and I. Creatures surviving in a world that hates us.¡± He wrapped his hand around my neck. ¡°Don¡¯t cry for humans, boy. Humanity has never shed a tear for us.¡±


    He dropped me on the ground with Palm''s body and walked away. His expensive boots clicked on the stone, pounding against my eardrum like every step he took shook the earth.


    "We''ll collect him and bring him to Article C, Commander Rain."


    An armed man approached and extended his arm toward Palm''s corpse. My body moved without me thinking. I saw the man recoil from me in fear as flashing lights and muffled screams surrounded me. Then, I was standing alone beneath the moonlight, with Palm''s body in my arms. I gripped her tightly and couldn¡¯t help but to let my tears rush. I collapsed to the ground, unable to move, waiting for death to reunite me with my family.

 1.05 Dead Circus

    Concordia, some called it the pillar by the sea. I referred to it as shit, and I wanted to leave from the day my mother abandoned me. It''s not an easy place to escape from. The walled marvel was like a drug that kept you coming back, continually beating into you a reason to stay. My reasoning was Rain Reinhurst, the man who killed my family five years ago. How could I leave while such a devil enjoyed the breath of life?


    I could''ve gone to Baltigo, our neighboring city-state. Calico told me they treat cambions well there, that our arma was sought after to help society prosper. But, alas, I found myself looking down on Concordia from the top of the wall. The view was deceptive, beauty covering layers of a hateful society. These views made me think of Palm. I''d promised her that she''d see the ocean one day, framed by glass buildings taller than the walls; a promise that''d been broken for five years now.


    "I''m getting tired of all the waiting, Calico," I didn¡¯t mean to come across as whiny, but the words just groaned out.


    We were on top of one of the inner walls, towering to a height rivaling small skyscrapers. However, in this sector, the wall was taller than everything else, providing a good view of the military office where we''d find Rain. Calico sat next to me, cross-legged and teetering at the steep edge like a cat balancing on a fencepost. Her hair was always neatly kept in a bun, and she wore a tank top with pocketed military pants. She was cute, though, admittedly not my type.


    "Oh, pipe down, rookie. Don''t be all in a hurry to go dying on us. We have a lot invested in you."


    She carried sarcasm in her voice, but I was used to it, even though we''d known each other for less than a year. Though, her eyes still frightened me regardless. They were angled, sharp, and aggressively magenta. Calico always looked as if she was hunting you, whether her intentions were malicious or not.


    Cambions, or devils to the Concordia citizens, often had eyes that could be mistaken for CGI or contacts, aside from mine. I lacked this trait; I instead had silver irises and pitch-black pupils. Though, I did have somewhat unique hair, like obsidian with veins of silver ore shining through.


    "I''m not eager to die. I''m eager to finally kill this bastard."


    "Well, rushing in blind is only going to get you killed. This is a Lieutenant General and a category 3 Cambion we''re talking about. You''ve been an operative for less than six months, so pipe down."


    Her words were slightly aggravating. Despite not being an operative long, I felt like I had made great strides. I''d been on a dozen missions and only been hurt once, though the scar on my back still ached some days. Besides, who was she to say anything about going in blind. Calico practically went through life blind, recklessly acting on her own instincts without thinking about her team. She was the queen of reckless behavior and blindly dangerous endeavors.


    I impatiently leaned back from the edge of the wall. I knew Calico was right, though, but the idea of possibly letting this opportunity slip gnawed at me. After all, this was the man that killed my family we were talking about. This was years in the making, and years of unfulfilled aggression I''d been sitting on. Shaking my foot off the ledge was all I could do to calm my nerves while waiting on the rest of the team.


    Yeahh, Sylas, Calico, is everything going smoothly on your end?


    This voice came from a telepathic link within our heads, like someone talking directly into my thoughts. It was Raust, and Calico responded.


    Aside from Sy''s jitters, we''re good. In position and ready for the drop.


    I couldn¡¯t help but shutter at her casual phrasing, as "the drop" was not something I was looking forward to. Most people would say they feared heights, but I would say I feared falling from heights. Mainly because as I sat on the edge of the wall, looking out at the sector beneath me, I felt tranquil. Inversely, Calico¡¯s excitement for falling from this height was actually the thing that terrified me.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Yeahh, understood, Calico. Sylas, try to keep your eagerness in check. This is a critical boss we''re after.


    I responded mentally, It''s checked. I¡¯ll keep things straight and narrow.


    By this point, I figured Raust would''ve found the target; Lieutenant general Rain Reinhurst, the man in charge of Concordia¡¯s cambion expulsion program. He was despicable, a Cambion himself with no inkling of empathy for his own kind. In truth, he was the embodiment of the Cambion we were told to fear by the military police. Rain was emotionless, cold, ruthless, and inhumane in nature as much as biology. He gave us all a horrid name, yet he bore the uniform and the title of the same people who vilified our kind. Rain was irony in walking flesh.


    Calico chimed in again on the telepathic link.


    Raust, dear. How are things on your end? Have you found Mr. Big bad?


    Yeahh, I think so. Rain is using void currently to blend in, but I¡¯ve got his heat signature locked in. Looks like he''s surrounded by some low-level NPCs. Eclaire, Shugr, you see what I''m seeing?


    Cambions abilities were broken into four states; void was a state in which you could erase your presence from other Cambions and blend in with humans. The other states were station, flow, and arma, the last being a Cambion''s trademark ability.


    The telepathic link was Eclaire¡¯s arma, and it gave her the ability to cast her own consciousness on to others. This allowed us to communicate but also let us tune in to each other¡¯s senses. Raust was right; Rain was on his way to a garage within the compound. Through Raust¡¯s eyes, I could see the heat forms of everyone within the building. Rain was in the middle of a group, heavily guarded as he was transported to an armored vehicle.


    Yeahh, looks like they¡¯re using an armored transport after all. Eclaire gets experience points for her guess.


    No need for compliments; my Intel is always accurate, never guessed. Captain, please regroup with me at the security terminal. She responded.


    Our captain, Shugr, chimed in for the first time.


    Roger roger. I¡¯ll be makin¡¯ my way up to ya from the west wing. I went snoopin¡¯ through some of their files, got myself some goodies. Meet you there, Eclaire! Oh! That rhymed!


    Outstanding captain. We will be going dark as we extract to point B. Raust, I am placing you in control of the rest of this phase of the operation.


    Yeahh, thanks, vice-captain. I''ll lead the quest from here. Calico, the target is leaving the facility and is en route to you. It is a 2 minute drop time¡ªgood luck, and Raust out.


    We''d been planning this mission for almost as long as I''d been an operative. It would''ve been one of Dead Circus'' biggest hits, a Lieutenant General of the military. I was placed on Shugr''s team before the mission was formulated, so fate sided in my favor with it being Rain. I wasn''t usually a fan of fate, but this time she had pulled through for me.


    Our team comprised only five, with two infiltrating the military office, one providing overwatch, and two assaulting the target. Much to Calico''s pleasure, I was placed on the assault team with her. Calico had an odd obsession with my suffering, but she always claimed it was out of love for her comrades. She was strange, and despite her sadistic tendencies, I couldn''t help but be drawn to her bubbly schoolgirl attitude.


    Shugr and Eclaire took on the infiltration, being our captain and vice-captain. I liked Eclaire; she was blunt and direct, but I felt safe when she was the one coordinating our operations. Shugr, on the other hand, was just as brash as Calico, but with a swagger and coolness, I couldn''t comprehend. He was the kind of guy that could shut down a room just by walking in.


    Raust was our eyes on almost every mission, which was fitting with his arma. He was like the little brother on the team, despite him only being a few years younger than me. Calico was super defensive of him, more so than even me, her punching bag.


    I returned to my own eyes, having watched Rain leave the facility through Raust¡¯s vision. Calico was already preparing herself, rigging her harness and tightening it at her thighs and shoulders. I did the same before hiding it all beneath my coat.


    ¡°You ready, Sy? I know you hate this part,¡± she said through an evil grin.


    ¡°As ready as I can be¡­I guess.¡±


    We stood at the edge of the wall together¡ª100 meters straight down to cold, hard concrete. We were above the gate from sector 9 into sector 5, and the plan was simple enough. Fall from the top of the wall, land on Rain¡¯s moving vehicle, and eliminate him. Honestly, this plan even seemed tame compared to some of the things I¡¯d heard about Dead Circus before joining.


    ¡°There it is!¡± Calico hopped happily at the edge, her toes hanging over slightly.


    Rain¡¯s vehicle was coming in hot directly toward us, with its emergency lights on so civilians would pull out of the way. I looked to Calico, and she''d activated her crown. Glowing cat-like ears and a tail erupted from her body, reminding me how she got her namesake in the first place. Her eyes glowed hot pink, vibrant neon even in the late afternoon sun. We clipped our harnesses together before we approached the edge and jumped.


    It only took about 10 seconds to get from top to bottom, and we timed it perfectly. With 10 meters left to fall, Rain¡¯s transport was nearly beneath our feet, and we were lined up to land smack in the middle. This was a military transport, an eight-wheeled armored jeep with two doors per side and a hatch on top. The hatch was our target, and the second before our feet touched the transport, Calico activated her arma.


    Free falling was quite a sensation itself, but the part I had dreaded more was Calico¡¯s arma, ''Cat Snatch.'' It allowed her to manipulate momentum, either increasing or decreasing it at will, all the way from zero to terminal velocity. So, when we were falling at 10 meters per second, having all that kinetic energy ripped away from me in an instant was jarring.


    We landed softly, so softly that the people within the transport couldn''t even hear us. My stomach was sloshing, and despite having done this more than once, I still struggled not to throw up. On the other hand, Calico was okay and beaming as she pulled two magnetic discs from her bag, each with a hook on the back. She leaned down and placed one beneath each of our feet before we each clipped our harnesses to them, ratcheting them as tight as they would go.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Calico smiled at me.


    I pull my gun from my shoulder, holster, ¡°I guess.¡±


    Calico¡¯s ghostly tail twitched with excitement before she placed both hands on top of the transport and halted it instantly in the road.

 1.06 A New Ordeal

    My churning stomach became filled with butterflies as the transport halted instantly. Contrary to how inertia usually worked, it didn''t apply to Calico''s arma. So, the large and heavy vehicle stopped immediately without even a screech of the tires. Calico and I felt the weight of this defiance of conventional physics, but our harnesses kept us firmly in place. From within, we heard numerous soldiers being tossed into the bulletproof glass at the front of the cockpit.


    "Uh-oh, no seatbelts. That''s a violation of the law!" Calico yelled cheerfully.


    She placed her hands on the hatch, gripped tightly, and flared her ghostly cat ears before ripping it entirely off the steel hinge. The lid landed 40 meters behind us, nearly striking some civilian vehicles and penetrating at least a foot into the concrete. The cover alone had to have weighed at least 100 kilograms, and Calico tossed it like a backyard frisbee. She was almost as cute as she was terrifying.


    "Calico! Be careful where you toss things that could''ve killed a human!"


    Her smile faded for a moment and was replaced with wide apologetic eyes.


    "Oops! I guess I got a little carried away."


    Calico''s arma also allowed her to store kinetic energy and use it to bolster her physicality, making things like steel useless against her strength. We both detached our harnesses from the magnets and jumped down into the vehicle. We were met with the groans of half a dozen ''elite soldiers'' sprawled out on the control panel by the front windshield. Their riot armor helped against most forms of trauma, but it wasn''t rated for being slammed into a bulletproof windshield at 100km/h.


    To our disappointment, Rain was not present amongst the crash dummies. The only person seemingly unfazed was a hooded man toward the back of the vehicle, who had apparently ignored our dramatic entrance.


    "Damn it! We must have hit the wrong transport or something." I slammed my hand into the metal siding.


    Calico and I approached the hooded man in the corner, and Calico knelt down to take a peek under his hood.


    "Hey, mister mime, you''re not gonna ignore a lady, are you?"


    "Calico, stop teasing him and take the hood off. He''s probably just a prisoner being transported to a different facility."


    "You do it. I''m getting creepy energy."


    Calico skipped to the front of the transport, humming a tune while passing the bodies.


    I lifted the hood off his head and confirmed Rain wasn''t here after all. Instead, under the hood was a beaten man, stitched at the eyebrow with bruises along his cheeks. His eyes were a pale and hazy orange, but they were absent of consciousness. He had a collar around his neck; it was a limiter device.


    "Yeah, it''s not him, Calico. Pop the back, and let''s go."


    Calico fiddled with the control panel in the cockpit before the bay door in the back of the transport began to lower. I unfastened the man from the seat and lifted him to his feet.


    "What are you doing, Sy?"


    "We''re taking him with us, so we can get the limiter off."


    A limiter was a kind of suppression device for cambions, fastened around the neck or wrists that removed our ability to use arma. Additionally, it reduced us to a tranquil state, forcing a suppression technique called void on our bodies. It was cruel, and regardless of who this man was, he didn¡¯t deserve this treatment.


    "Taking him? Are you nuts, Sy? We''ll be swarmed with military police in a minute, and he''s gonna be dead weight."


    "I can''t leave him like this; these collars are horrible and inhumane.¡±


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    She was right, we didn¡¯t have much time before the blues arrived, but the thought of leaving someone like that didn¡¯t sit well with me. I knew what it was like; I''d been forced to wear a limiter while I was locked up. It was like being in a lucid dream or living with only your head submerged underwater.


    ¡°You go then, Calico. I¡¯ll catch up. I know what it¡¯s like to be in that collar, so I can¡¯t leave him.¡±


    ¡°Ughh, Sy! I get it, I do. But we don¡¯t even know him! He could be some kind of psychopath for all we know!¡±


    ¡°You and I just free-fell 100 meters onto a moving military transport and likely snapped the necks of all these soldiers from whiplash.¡± I waved my hand to all the bodies.


    She puffed her cheeks and paused for a moment, looking between the injured soldiers and me. Most of them seemed like they were out cold, but a few had begun to groan and stir. Outside of the transport, we could hear the sirens of police vehicles approaching.


    "Rescuing Cambions in need is what we do. I''d be dead now if you hadn''t made a choice to save me back then."


    ¡°Alright,¡± Calico mumbled, ¡°get him, and let¡¯s go, now!¡±


    Calico and I lifted the man together, each taking an arm. We exited the back and immediately headed toward a cluster of buildings past the sidewalk. The street lamps had just begun to flicker, signifying the sun would set soon. We were only about a mile from the sector 9 gate, and judging by how close the sirens were already, Rain must''ve seen this attack coming. Police response times in Concordia were usually infamously slow unless you lived in the higher-end districts.


    Sector 5 sat comfortably in Concordia''s northwest corner, the closest sector to the resource-rich Palpa Chania mountain range. It was a heavily labor focused sector, housing most of the industrial plants in the city-state. The workday was already finished, so the streets were relatively clear of humans. It was one of the few sectors with a gate leading outside the city-state, and it was an easy place to disappear if you knew the layout. Thankfully for us, Dead Circus operated here frequently, so we''d adapted quite comfortably to the road and alleyway designs.


    Calico led us up into a steel plant; it was closed for the day, so we didn¡¯t have to worry about running into any humans. We climbed the fire escape to the second floor and sheltered ourselves inside. After shutting the metal door, Calico bent a rebar rod around the handle to keep it closed. The factory was dingy and filled with gloom. It smelled of rust and sweat, and I could hear the groans of steel beams when the slightest wind pushed the walls.


    I helped the man out of his shackles and removed the shroud he had been covered in.


    ¡°Sorry about the limiter collar. I can¡¯t do anything about that here. Are you hurt?¡±


    It was a dumb question because removing the hood gave me the answer. The prisoner was worse off than I initially thought; it looked as if someone had ripped his face apart and done a shoddy job replacing the pieces. The skin on his wrists was bruised nearly black, and I could tell the bones were fractured. He had a bandage over his left eye and long stitches over his right brow and lip. I hadn''t noticed the patch over his eye when I first examined him.


    "Sorry, I guess your injuries are apparent. Can you tell me who did this to you? Was it Rain Reinhurst?"


    None of my words seemed to pique his interest. He continued staring past me into nothing with his one glossed eye.


    Damn, whoever this guy was, he sure had made an enemy of the military, apparently. Judging by his injuries, he must have been tortured for some time. Who was this guy? He must''ve been a high profile Cambion. If the government had maimed him this badly and still needed to transport him elsewhere, he must not have given up any information. Though, sometimes torture served as a pastime for the military in Concordia.


    This situation didn¡¯t make much sense; Raust knew who Rain was, right? How could he have gotten Rain mixed up for this prisoner? We were confident we had him; I even saw his heat signature through Raust''s eyes. If Rain had caught wind of our operation, what was his source? Or, if someone else was responsible for this mix-up, who was it?


    While I mulled over the situation, Calico stomped around, surveying the steel plant before contacting the team.


    Heyyyy, Raust, honey. Care to tell Sy and me how you fucked this up? How could you get Rain mixed up with some random fucking collared prisoner!?


    Well¡­we were thinking the same thing, but she was far more aggressive with her approach than I would¡¯ve been.


    Yeahh, I¡¯m trying to figure it out, Cali. Cool it. You can yell at me all you want after I get you and Sy out of this surprise event. MP¡¯s are blockading the gate to sector 9, and they¡¯re blocking off the road by the transport.


    Hey, Raust. This is Sylas. We''ll definitely yell at you later, but right now, we need to get Calico, me, and the prisoner out of here, and he¡¯s in bad shape.


    Yeahh, sure, Sylas. Just make the quest even more difficult.


    Raust wasn¡¯t wrong. Now that I¡¯d been given time to examine the prisoner, I questioned the decision I¡¯d made. He could barely stand, let alone run, and he was in a forced void, so not counting on him for a fight. Void was a technique cambions could use to eliminate their presence, though it required a massive expulsion of our bodies'' energy. So, when forced into void by a limiter collar, our bodies would become fatigued and weaker over time.


    Limiter collars were one of the military''s tools for combating Cambions. By forcing us into void, it eliminated our ability to use arma. Additionally, it was nearly impossible to remove the collars without killing the Cambion unless you had the right tools. They were terrible things, and depending on how long he''d had it on, we probably didn''t have much time before the collar sucked away the rest of his life.


    Calico had climbed up a set of stairs to the windows above while I examined the prisoner. They were covered with thick wooden blinders, and Calico slid them aside to have a look outside.


    ¡°They¡¯re checking out the transport right now, Sylas. But, they¡¯ll start a search soon if any of the soldiers can speak and tell them what happened.¡±


    The situation was far from ideal and far from what we¡¯d planned. It angered me to not have Rain, but I pushed my anger aside to focus on the task at hand.


    ¡°Sir, do you know where they were taking you? If you can tell us anything, it may help us find a route to safety.¡±


    He looked at me with his hallowed face and one dead eye and finally spoke.


    ¡°Article C.¡±


    Shit.


    His first words were the worst thing he could¡¯ve told me, and after softly trailing on the end of his words, he returned his gaze to nothing. I heard Calico close the shutters before returning to us.


    ¡°That''s where you were locked up, right, Sy?¡± She inquired.


    ¡°Yeah¡­unfortunately. Though, I didn¡¯t know it was still in use. It was a military facility for Cambion experimentation. All for the sake of learning more about us and how our physiology works. Once they had their fill with a test subject, they''d brainwash you into joining the military or kill you. It was a hell on earth.¡±


    Calico¡¯s eyes narrowed as she avoided looking at me, staring at the floor instead. I¡¯d forgotten for a moment that Calico was from Balitgo and wasn¡¯t quite used to the horrors of being a Cambion in Concordia.


    Calico looked to the man, ¡°any idea why, mister?¡±


    Life returned to the man''s eye for a moment, as if he''d been waiting to tell someone for years. He weakly but urgently lifted his head to me before speaking.


    ¡°They¡¯re planning to¡ª¡°


    Click.


    Boom.

 1.07 Devil in the Details

    Damn it all.


    The limiter collar was rigged to explode. Luckily, the audible click was enough of a signal for me to activate my arma. It would''ve been deadly, but instead, I stood alone in the frozen world, surrounded by heat, blood, and debris. If the click was enough of a heads up for me, then Calico should''ve been able to avoid the explosion with ease, yet her body was nearly in front of me, separating me from the blast. I guess she had been trying to save me before herself. It felt out of character compared to her usual devious nature, but deep down, it was clear she put the safety of her teammates above all else.


    Over the past five years, I had developed my arma to the point where I could use it at will. It was more usable now than when it would only trigger at random, but still far from perfect. Though, overuse put a massive strain on my body and mind to the point of sending me into short-term comas. I was examined by Hiko, Dead Circus'' lead doctor, and she told me overuse would lead to my brain believing my body was in permanent stasis.


    My ability differed now from the first time it triggered. Ever since that day in the tunnels, I¡¯d never been able to project a new body again. Instead, when I stopped time around me, I remained within my physical body. Aside from that, it worked relatively the same; I had just become better at using it. Even though it was only for short periods, stopping time around me allowed me to evaluate my situation and act accordingly.


    "Well, shit. This guy must''ve had some useful information if this was the failsafe. Judging by how far the fragments of the collar traveled before my arma activated, I''d say the explosion isn''t strong enough to level the building. Still, it''s more than enough to shred us up."


    I knew there was no saving the prisoner, as I could see, his head was a blood geyser. Red was splattered in all directions, stuck in stasis with the rest of the shrapnel and pieces of flesh. I needed to get Calico and me out of the blast radius, or we wouldn¡¯t survive.


    ¡°Calico, I know you can¡¯t hear me, but I''m apologizing in advanced.¡±


    I scooped her into my arms like a prom date. Carrying her while stopped in time was an odd sensation, as things in stasis are practically weightless. Things still required energy to move, so it was similar to pushing a ball tethered to a counterweight. If she had known what was happening, she would have crumpled my body, or thrown me a kilometer in the air, or maybe just stabbed me. I supposed if she asked what had happened, I''d have to lie.


    The door we came in was barred shut, and the explosion was blocking our path to it. Despite it being in stasis, we would still be burned by the heat if we went too close. The window up top was a straight path to the blues. They would¡¯ve heard the explosion and would probably find their way in here once time resumed. Then, I noticed another door, higher up on the walkway from the window. I believed it was a service door, leading out to the next story of the fire escape, perhaps. I took Calico and ran to it, leaving the poor prisoner to his unfortunate fate.


    It was hard to tell, but existence had a sound, and only when I stopped the world could I experience true silence. I could tell how much time my arma had left by listening to the ambient noise around me. Birds, wind, or the slight hum of the universe, I learned what to listen for when it all disappeared. By the time I reached the fire escape, I had almost exhausted all my energy. I could hear the slight whine of the steel beams beginning to feel the pressure displacement caused by the bomb. I placed Calico down, closed the door, braced myself against it, and released my arma.


    BOOM.


    The shockwave shattered every window in the factory and nearly blew the doors off their hinges. I could smell the burnt flesh, and scorched steel as the smoke billowed out of the building. The metal door I was braced against turned hot from the flames of the explosion. It was too hot, and I was forced to give up on holding it shut. Luckily, the door held, but the smoke and ash surrounded us as it escaped the factory.


    ¡°What the HELL just happened in there?¡± Calico yelled. The smoke around us forced her into a coughing fit.


    ¡°He fucking exploded, Calico. The limiter was a bomb collar.¡±


    ¡°Damn. That poor guy is probably dead, huh? Maybe it wasn¡¯t a good idea to bring him after all.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    She was mocking me. However, she hadn''t realized I was the one who got us out, so I let it slide.


    ¡°Fuck off. Get us out of here before the blues catch us.¡±


    We had to be running out of time; that explosion was loud enough to alert half of sector 5. Aside from the blues, we also had potential military forces to worry about. If that guy was a high profile prisoner, they wouldn''t be happy that he was turned into fresh paint on the walls. Additionally, someone had set us up with the wrong target somehow, and I had a feeling they''d be watching the events play out.


    I was totally wiped out, depleted of energy, and barely able to hold myself up. Thinking about the situation was a chore of its own. Despite the air tasting typical, every breath was a struggle against the building smoke. Calico extended her harness, clipping it into mine. The ties retracted tightly, bringing us chest to chest and face to face. My face turned flush. I wasn''t sure if it was from the intensity of the situation or our bodies being pressed together. I was just hoping if Calico noticed, she wouldn''t think it was the latter.


    ¡°Hold me tight, Sy!¡±


    I reluctantly wrapped my arms around her, and we took off into the sky. The sun had just started setting, disappearing over the eastern horizon. The view from the walls was one thing, but to look at it as Calico and I sailed through the sky was something else entirely. It almost made me rethink my hatred for Concordia, but not quite. I could see the mountain range to the west and the ocean to the south from up there. The sea always made me think of Palm.


    Calico yelled to me over the wind, ¡°I¡¯m almost out of energy, but I should have enough to get us to the rendezvous point. I need you to see if Raust is still on the telepathic link.¡±


    Calico¡¯s arma didn¡¯t let her fly as much as it let her float and glide. While she could feasibly fly, it would require too much concentration to balance her kinetic energy. However, she was skilled enough to guide us into a smooth landing far away from the steel factory. It was a lot like skydiving, but neither of us had a parachute or a planned landing zone.


    Raust, this is Sylas. We¡¯re en route to the rendezvous point, but we lost the prisoner. Do you copy?


    "..."


    Raust, this is Sylas. Do you copy?


    "..."


    Calico yelled to me again, ¡°is he not responding?¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s not. Doesn¡¯t seem like anyone is on the mind link.¡±


    Our meeting spot was a brewery in sector 4 owned by Rodger Pell, an unregistered Cambion. We used the basement as an operating center while working within the city and away from our main base. Hopefully, the team was waiting for us there and just off the link. Though, with what we''d only experienced, pessimistic thinking was hard to shake.


    "So, what happened back there, Sy?"


    "He exploded."


    "Well, I gathered that. I meant, how did we not explode."


    "Oh. I used my arma and carried you out that fire escape door."


    Damn it. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized I''d forgotten to lie like I told myself I would. I was hoping that Calico wouldn''t have heard me with the noise from the wind, but I wasn''t so lucky.


    "Oh? You did? Like a fireman carry or like a prom date?"


    I couldn''t see her face, but I knew from the tone in her voice she was wearing that coy smile I knew too well.


    "Well...I uh-"


    Yeahh, Sylas? Raust here. Sorry about that. Shugr and Eclaire got into an encounter, so I had to help them out. The guildhall is safe. Wipe your feet when you come in.


    I''d never wanted to thank Raust more. Despite his videogame terminology being foreign to me, the team was safe, and I didn''t have to answer Calico''s question.


    We reached the wall above sector 4 just as the sun was replaced with the flickering of neon and cheap fluorescent lights. It was a grimy low wealth sector, boasting Concordia''s highest population. There were plenty of opportunities to spend your hard-earned factory tokens on alcohol, drugs, or gambling, but compared to sector 18, this place felt like a getaway destination. Calico and I descended the wall into an alleyway and ditched our weapons and harnesses in the locked dumpster behind the brewery.


    Rodger was at the counter when we walked in. He was a rough behemoth, unnaturally large for a human or Cambion, with concrete skin and an almost unhinged underbite. Eclaire told me that his people came from a small village far to the south of Concordia, along the sea line. He spoke slowly, with an odd accent that made him sound adventurous and brash. His dialect was harsh but enticing; it made you want to buy a drink from him as well as arm wrestle.


    ¡°Aye, Sylas and little Cali! How ya been? Aven¡¯t seen you round in a bit, ya!¡± Rodger was always excited for customers but extra excited for us.


    Calico responded, ¡°We¡¯re doing swell, Rodgey! Have you seen mom, pop, and my darling baby brother anywhere?¡±


    This was all code, in case anyone happened to be listening. By this time, Rodger was closing soon, so most of his guests had filtered out drunk into the night.


    ¡°Aye! They¡¯re back in the storeroom! Yer pop was helping me with some o¡¯ the inventory.¡±


    Calico and I went back to the storeroom. It was small, though it was just a closet Rodger pretended to store goods in. Behind a large bookshelf was the door to the basement, and Rodger walked in behind us. He activated his crown, which appeared as a translucent chain necklace. He touched the bookshelf and returned to the bar giving us a thumbs up on the way out.


    Rodger¡¯s arma was ¡°lock and key,¡± which allowed him to lock objects into place. It was perfect for hiding things, and his subtle crown could be passed off as simple jewelry, unlike Calico''s cat ears and tail.


    The basement had no electricity to hide its existence and was only lit with small oil lamps. Rodger had made this basement from remnants of an old mining tunnel underneath sector 4. He piled bricks and stone himself to make the room, locking all the walls into place with his ability. Unless it was us or Rodger, no one else knew this place existed.


    "This place is so dingy, I hate it. Why can''t we have meetings in a penthouse suite?" Calico complained. She closed her body off, coldly crossing her arms over her body.


    "Ah yes, a secretive and subtle penthouse suite. I''ve heard of those!"


    She continued with her pouting posture, only looking back at me over her shoulder to let me know she was glaring.


    "Calico, if you really want, you can wear my coat. It''ll keep you dry and clean."


    She pounced on the opportunity, snatching it away from my hand as soon as I had it off. I wasn''t a large man by any metric, but my coat swallowed her. Calico wasn''t that much shorter than me, though she definitely had me in muscle mass. I wondered if the coat looked big on me too. Maybe I should have been training with Calico more to beef up some.


    ¡°Welcome, welcome! Good to see ya all safe and sound!" someone exclaimed, "Calico, is that a new jacket?¡±

 1.08 Old Wounds, New Stitches

    Calico and I entered a small room with a large table and a chalkboard. It was faintly lit by an oil lamp hanging overhead and a little wood-burning furnace in the corner. Shugr stood near the entrance with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He was the first to greet us.


    "It''s good to see you both safe! Sounds like you two had as much fun as the rest of us."


    He eyed my coat that Calico was wearing.


    "Maybe more fun than us."


    I''m sure Raust must''ve told him about our situation. I wondered what their ''encounter'' was. Also, I wasn''t sure what he meant by his second statement.


    Calico responded, "Shugr, why are you smoking indoors?"


    He quickly put the cigarette out on the table, probably fearing the wrath of the cat-lady. Being a Cambion, Shugr didn¡¯t have to worry about the harmful effects of smoking. Our natural cellular regeneration was fast enough to render things like cancer unviable, though in exchange, our tolerance for addiction was much lower than a human. Shugr started smoking as a weapon to use with his arma, then it became a habit he enjoyed partaking in. He said it made him feel like a ''distinguished gentleman.''


    Shugr was eccentric, even among Cambions. He had a blanket of snow for hair despite only being in his 30''s and sly purple eyes you''d expect to find on a con-man or a fox. He always wore a slate suit, he said it matched his eyes or something, and a long navy duster with a high collar. It was Dead Circus'' signature jacket, the one all captains wore. I asked him once why he chose his coat in dark blue, and he told me I''d learn when I was older. Shugr also wore gloves regularly, no matter the situation, and also declined to share why.


    "What smoke? You must have me confused with someone else. The only smoker here is Eclaire. Isn''t that right, dear?" Shugr said sarcastically.


    "No. That''s incorrect, sir," Eclaire responded.


    Eclaire was our unenthusiastic vice-captain and our general caretaker if I''m honest. She was typically more of a leader-figure than Shugr, who tended to act immaturely. Eclaire often led our missions, even if Shugr was present, as she was the one that tied everything together. Her arma was the ability to project her consciousness to others. Through her powers, we had no need for radios or any other form of communication. We always kept in touch through a mental link, meaning our comms were never compromised. Her arma was complimented by her intelligence, being the brains of our little operation.


    Eclaire was taller than the rest of us, with Shugr only being slightly shorter than her. Her hair was thin and wispy like strands of seaweed beneath the water, sitting loosely at her shoulders. She wore a straight black suit and tie, accompanied by a pressed and crisped white button-down shirt underneath. For all of Shugr¡¯s idiosyncrasies, she was the opposite; she was rather unemotional most of the time, rarely being expressive except over small sweets like shortcake.


    Then there was raust; he had a thin chocolate stick hanging out of his mouth, mimicking the cigarette Shugr had just put out.


    ¡°You guys let the prisoner die? No experience points for either of you.¡±


    Raust was the youngest of the group by a couple years, and he often spoke in reference to video games he played. Additionally, he almost always had some kind of snack on him, usually a cookie stick covered in chocolate. He wore the same coat as me, a standard issue for fieldwork. While I opted for a traditional black jacket with white fur lining, Raust decided on a digital camo with brown fur lining. His eyes were red, matching a thin streak in his bangs that stood out against the rest of his black hair.


    Calico walked to Raust and took a cheek in each hand, ¡°don¡¯t say such mean things, my darling! After all, it was Sylas¡¯ fault!¡± she exclaimed loudly, pointing a finger while sheltering Raust with her free arm.


    Shugr let out a small gasp, ¡°oh heavens! Sylas, please say it isn¡¯t so!¡±


    ¡°Oh, good lord,¡± I responded, ¡°I just watched a man explode, and you guys are making jokes about the situation.¡±


    ¡°Ahem, WE watched a man explode!¡± Calico interjected.


    ¡°Does that matter? He was trying to tell us something, Calico. Right before he-¡°


    Eclaire stepped to me, interrupting my sentence. ¡°What was he trying to say?¡±


    I stepped back slightly, ¡°uh, well, I was getting there.¡±


    ¡°Speak more briskly. I need all the Intel you and Calico gathered for my report.¡±


    Calico jumped up, waving her hand in the air. ¡°Oh! Oh! Oh! I know this one!¡±


    Eclaire acknowledged her like a school teacher, ¡°yes, Calico?¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­so here¡¯s the deal. Sy and I find the prisoner, and Sy is insistent that we gotta save him!¡±


    She said her words mockingly, doing an imperfect mimicry of my voice.


    ¡°So, we hop out the transport, and there¡¯s blues coming, so we duck into the steel plant-!¡±


    Calico continued storytelling, embellishing details along the way, like how she managed to move me out of the course of the explosion in an instant while also saving a small bird trapped in the rafters of the factory.


    ¡°Then, before the blues raided the factory and locked us up forever¡­Sylas professed his love for me!¡±


    She hugged herself and wore a loving smile on her face.


    ¡°What? No, I didn¡¯t-¡°


    ¡°He said, I love you, Calico! You¡¯re my hero and savior! Before we flew into the sky together!¡±


    ¡°Calico, that¡¯s not true-¡°


    Eclaire grabbed me by the lobe of my ear, ¡°Sylas, Miss Calico is an essential member of our team. Your fraternizing could lead to impregnation and Calico¡¯s inability to perform fieldwork. Furthermore-¡°


    Ouch. Eclaire had a fucking firm grip on my ear. She rambled about the dangers romantic relationships pose in our work, all the while Calico was winking at me with her tongue out. Shugr couldn''t help but laugh at our exchange while lighting another cigarette. Meanwhile, Raust took to sitting on the floor cross-legged and playing some game on a handheld device. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Despite how outlandish the situation had become, I enjoyed every moment of it. All the friends I''d made in life had been stripped from me one by one. My family had been reduced to nothing more times than once. Yet, as I had my ear yanked and was scolded about safe sex, I couldn''t help but believe this family was finally the one that would stay.


    ¡°Additionally, as you are aware unprotected sex can lead to-¡°


    ¡°Alright, alright. That¡¯s enough,¡± Shugr interrupted.


    Thank god, someone had finally stepped in to end the nonsense. Shugr stepped between Eclaire and me, shoving a gloved finger into my face.


    ¡°Sylas, Calico is far too old for you!¡±


    ¡°Captain! That¡¯s so mean!¡± Calico cried.


    ¡°Please kill me, captain,¡± I said, giving in to the senselessness around me.


    The antics continued. Shugr and Eclaire paced the room, arguing with each other how to properly expose me to sexual education. Raust became further enveloped in his video game, blocking out the world in a way I could only do with my arma. Calico came over to console my recently tugged ear by tugging on my other ear to even them out.


    After aimlessly deliberating for far too long, we finally got to the task at hand, the operation and the prisoner. It was safe to assume from comparing intel that another Cambion must have used some kind of arma to help Rain slip by us. Shugr was giving us a presentation from the chalkboard.


    "Arma is broken into categories based on their usage. For example, Calico possesses what we call a Physical arma, which allows her to use her arma through contact."


    I knew little about the technical classifications of arma. All of my knowledge on Cambions came from my time locked up in Article C, and I wouldn''t refer to that as higher learning.


    "Eclaire and Raust, on the other hand, both have projection arma, allowing them to affect things they aren¡¯t touching," Shugr continued.


    I knew more or less how arma worked upon observing it''s usage. That skill was beaten into me while trying to make me a weapon of the military. My arma was classified as ''spatial,'' allowing me to affect the space around me and others. Though Dr. Amedia did mention that she wasn''t positive in my classification, it made sense from my experience.


    Shugr removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew smoke onto the tabletop. His eyes began to glow vivid purple, and three small wisps of the same hue materialized around his shoulders. He waved his hand over the smoke, and it began to form into a miniature diorama of the military office in sector 9.


    "Then there are Cambions like myself; manipulators who can control matter with our arma."


    I was awestruck by the delicacy of the smokes maneuvers, how the tendrils wove themselves into buildings and streets, as well as moving figurines of humans and cars. Shugr pointed out locations on the smoke map.


    "Raust, you were positioned at the top of this building, roughly 70 meters from where you found Rain''s heat signature."


    Raust looked up from his handheld for a moment to nod and take a bite of his chocolate stick.


    Eclaire chimed in, "so we have to presume that whatever Cambion sabotaged the operation had to have been near Raust. Otherwise, we would''ve sensed multiple from the office. Additionally, to cast an illusion that could fool Raust''s arma, it''d most likely be a spatial classification, limiting its range of use."


    Shugr continued, "aside from you, Sylas. There are no documented spatial arma with a range of over 30 meters."


    "Yeahh, so...do we think someone wanted to keep Rain alive?" Raust asked.


    "Not necessarily. We have no confirmation Rain was ever there in the first place, and we were deliberately led to believe that we were pursuing him, leading Sylas and Calico to the prisoner," Shugr responded.


    Calico and I looked at each other, then back to Shugr as he released his arma and allowed the smoke to billow out.


    "He tried to tell Calico and me something before he was killed."


    "Oh?" Shugr raised his brow, "what were his words exactly?"


    "Well, first he said they were taking him to Article C."


    "And then?"


    "They''re planning to...then boom."


    Shugr turned his back to the table, examining the chalkboard he had been using to write arma classifications before. He flipped the board and began to scribble while muttering to himself. Eclaire posed next to him, one arm tucked beneath her other elbow, hand-pressed firmly to her chin.


    "Are they like, thinking together?" I asked. I was slightly curious but also somewhat uncomfortable.


    "Yeah, they do that. You''ll get used to it, Sy. This is your first in-depth mission, after all," Calico responded.


    Come to think of it, Calico was right. I had yet to be on a mission that didn''t go according to plan. The few times things got a little hairy, I was pulled back on account of being in training. However, this time, I was in the thick of it with the team, trying to figure out what we should do next.


    "Captain, vice-captain?"


    Shugr and Eclaire both turned to me, revealing a rough sketch of Concordia.


    "Yes?" they answered in unison.


    "What if this mystery Cambion was trying to help us? Rain was the one who brought me to Article C five years ago. If we''re being directed to go there, maybe Rain is planning to recommission it and reopen or something."


    "That''s close to what Eclaire was thinking," Shugr responded. "Article C has been decommissioned since the incident two years ago. It''s since been a quarantine zone, but maybe Rain and the military have finally devised a plan for it''s reopening."


    Since ''the incident'' Shugr referred to, Article C was the most dangerous place in Concordia. It had been quarantined entirely, no entry or exit until all the escaped Cambions could be killed or recaptured. It''s decommissioning had been a blessing, effectively killing most Cambion trafficking in the city for the last couple of years. If Article C were to reopen, it''d mean reestablishing widespread Cambion genocide that had only recently been ended.


    Shugr lit another cigarette and placed one foot up on the table confidently.


    "Well, I say we follow the lead of our mysterious tamperer and find out what Rain is up to. If they are reopening that facility, it''ll combat everything Dead Circus has tried to do for Cambions."


    The room nodded in agreement.


    "With any luck, maybe our mystery someone will accompany us and continue to intervene. Now get some rest, all of you." Shugr concluded the meeting, and we all left the basement.


    Rodger allowed Calico, Raust, and me to stay the night in the brewery. His bar was on the street floor, and most of the upstairs offices were unrented, so Rodger had turned them into makeshift hostel rooms. The anticipation for what was to come made it hard to sleep, so Calico and I stayed up by the window.


    "So, Calico. What''s Baltigo like compared to here?"


    She had my coat zipped up all the way, and the collar covered her whole lower face.


    "It''s less gaudy. The neon in some of the sectors here is just too harsh on the eyes."


    "Well, I more so meant for quality of life."


    "Oh, that? Well, in Baltigo, Cambions don''t have to worry about being ripped off the streets or stolen from their mothers. We''re still monitored, but we aren''t slaves like in Concordia."


    "Right, aren''t Cambions more like celebrities?"


    She paused for a moment to free her hands from the oversized sleeves of my jacket.


    "Damn fabric. Oh, what? Celebrities? In a way, I guess."


    She managed to free herself and unzip the coat enough to show her pretty face. I mean, her regular face. Then she continued.


    "Humans and Cambions should have a symbiotic relationship. Cambions protect them from the dangers outside the walls, and they protect us from the dangers inside the walls."


    "Dangers inside the walls?"


    "Discrimination, prejudice, racism. All the things that hold a hierarchical society together."


    There''s a fundamental difference between a sense of moral duty and seeking to be a problem fixer. Concordia wasn''t her problem, so why did it matter? Why would she come here? Balitgo sounded like it had everything I''d ever wanted. Security, equality, peace. Yet, she left and faced the dangers outside the wall to interject herself here?


    "I really wish I could''ve been born in your shoes, Calico. I would''ve never left Baltigo. I wouldn''t have even cared if other city-states existed or not," I laughed.


    I was laughing by myself, getting only silence in return. Calico stared out the window, acutely focused on the gate to sector 5 and its tawdry neon sign.


    "Sylas. Evil isn''t created by those who perpetrate it. Evil is something perpetuated by those who standby and watch because it isn''t being done to them."


    Calico looked to me from the window. Her face was stone cold, a seriousness I''d never seen her show before. She tugged the collar of the coat up to her chin and whispered to me.


    "..."


    Beep. Boop. Badooooop.


    "Shit. Game over."


    "Raust?" I replied, "how long have you been in here?"


    "I dunno. Been gaming. Other room was lonely."


    Calico and I laughed together, and Raust restarted his game.


    "That''s alright, Raust. You can hang out with us. There''s plenty of places to sleep here." Calico smiled and gave him a tight hug, which he accepted apathetically.


    Raust continued his gaming, stopping for only a moment after Calico let him go.


    "Wait. Isn''t that Sy''s jacket?"

 1.09 To and From, We go

    Concordia was divided into segmented sectors within a massive outer wall; it was like a labyrinth, designed for safety and restraint. There were 20 sectors within the central city and five across the river known as the royal district. Article C was situated in the royal district, far away from ordinary citizens who might challenge its existence.


    The city-state was an unsavory melting pot of culture, a tacky conglomerate of humanity''s efforts to remain afloat. Like an abstract painting, nothing seemed to fit but was accepted as usual regardless. It wasn''t uncommon to see a massive and immaculate corporate skyscraper casting a shadow over slummed shacks and alleys filled with shit-stained poverty. Like few before me, I''d glimpsed past the walls of the sector I was born into, and I came to realize this labyrinth existed as a filter to keep the profane from blending with high society.


    Rodger was kind enough to extend our stay at the brewery, and we spent a week hashing out different plans, deciding eventually to examine the grounds of Article C lawfully. Calico was displeased in our subtlety, but I thought it was a smart move. After all, we were heading into a quarantine zone, where very few over the last few years were allowed to travel. We''d possibly have to deal with Jaegers or control drones, which Shugr didn''t find ''profitable.''


    Despite our grim destination, the ride there was mystical. I was in a limo! I''d never dreamed of riding in a vehicle of such luxury. The only time I had ever seen one was when the royal family made their annual trip through all the sectors. Now, I was in one, riding like a high roller from the casinos! An armored limousine, stocked with a full drink and snack bar, heated and cooled sectional seating, and a glass roof the entire length of it. It even had a television behind the driver and an interweb connection!


    "How come you''ve never let me ride in this before?"


    I wasn''t addressing anyone in particular. I was thinking out loud, busy pressing my face against the glass, watching buildings fly by, and drooling over the amenities.


    "This is Shugr''s limo. He was kind enough to lend it to this operation." Eclaire replied stoutly.


    She was unenthused by our lavish transportation, reading a book in the corner near the driver. Raust was nose deep in his handheld like usual, though he did actively peruse the snack bar. Calico was uncharacteristically quiet. She sat across from me by herself, silently sipping a flavored drink, as if she was letting me have my childlike moment of wonder to myself.


    "If this is Shugr''s, then why isn''t he with us?"


    Eclaire didn''t look up from her book, "the captain will not be joining us. He has professional matters to attend to. Besides, this is purely a scouting operation. Combative behavior is prohibited."


    In addition to being a captain within Dead Circus, Shugr was also an accomplished businessman within the city-state. He was the CEO of a private investment firm that worked primarily with wealthy humans. Shugr also told me he did business with the royal family, but who knows where the truth stopped and embellishment began?


    "So why the limo this time?" I asked.


    "We''re traveling to the royal district legally, which only Shugr and I have credentials to do. His company clearance will grant us easy passage." Eclaire responded, taking a sip from a teacup behind her book.


    We had the luxury of traveling on Concordia''s ''express circuit,'' a superhighway built above the conventional roadway. It was designed by the royal family to transport high-priority personnel quickly and more efficiently, and it allowed us to make a 200 mile trip in under two hours. We''d traveled from sector 4 and through sector 3 before arriving in the capital.


    Sector 14 was Concordia''s capital, a new-age technological marvel that stood above all other sectors, spitting on them from its high horse. There were as many tall corporate skyscrapers as there were government offices and shopping malls. At night, you could walk the streets and never realize it was dark outside. It was my favorite place in the city-state, though I''m sure most people shared my opinion. When I was younger, I wondered what it''d be like to live there? To be able to look out your window and see life in motion no matter what time of day it was.


    In sector 18, where I was born, the dark meant hiding to get a chance at tomorrow. Sylas five years ago would''ve scoffed if he''d known where I was now, gawking at the things I''d hated so much. I''d always wanted nothing more than to hop on a boat and leave; now, I was about to cross the river into the royal district. The royal district was a place I never thought I''d go, and never thought I''d return to.


    The limo came to a slow halt before the window near Eclaire began to slide down. Royal guards approached, dressed in navy and red coats over black suits.


    Alright, everyone, please begin using void.


    It was Eclaire''s arma, the telepathic link. I hadn''t even noticed her activating it. Her crown was a small holographic cube that usually floated by her head. However, she had repositioned it beneath her seat.


    Void was a skill that had always come easy to me. I went so long, devoid of silo particles, that I was familiar with the feeling of being empty. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths, and allowed the energy to pour from my body into the limousine. It had a similar feeling to releasing all of your oxygen while underwater. I felt surrounded, encased in the silo particles instead of being part of their flow.


    One of the guards was leaned against the roof, looking into Eclaire''s window.


    "Morning, name, and business, please."


    "Eclaire Elliott, vice-president of Shugr and Spice investment professionals." Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Are you kidding me? Was his company named after him, AND a pun? How could Shugr keep his secret when his actual name was plastered all over legal documents like that? I supposed people might not believe his name was ''Shugr.'' It was pronounced like the condiment but spelled oddly, like a character from a fantasy novel.


    "Ah, Miss Elliott. We''ve got you right here. Enjoy your trip, and for your safety, try to avoid sector R3 as usual."


    "Thank you, but actually, we have a meeting in that sector. Please alert the gate guards of our arrival and forward the proper permits."


    Eclaire''s eyes flashed for a millisecond, and the guard blankly responded.


    "My apologies, Miss Elliott. I will make the arrangements for your arrival."


    Eclaire returned to sipping her tea and reading her book as we drove off. She had surgically precise use of her arma, being able to influence the minds of multiple people in an instant while maintaining a perfectly sound telepathic connection with the rest of us.


    "Sy, close your mouth. You''re gawking. It''s weird," Calico snarled.


    "Yes, Sylas. Your staring at me is a sign of rudeness," Eclaire added.


    Shit.


    I must''ve zoned out at Eclaire''s display. Admittedly, I had a weak spot for cool arma. I''d gone most of my life thinking of superpowers as a fantasy to help me escape. Now, I was surrounded by badasses who did mind control and jumped buildings like it was their job. Well, I guess it was their, and now my job.


    "S-Sorry! I wasn''t gawking. I was daydreaming a bit."


    "Please don''t daydream about me. I am your vice-captain, not a subject for your young adult perversions."


    "Wait. No, there was no¡ª"


    Calico pounced, leaning over me with our noses nearly touching.


    "Sy, you better stop being pervy to other girls, or I won''t wear your jacket ever again."


    "What? You asked¡ª"


    She placed her index finger against my lips and blazed her cat-ear crown.


    "Just remember, you''ve been warned, Sy."


    "Yeahh, can you move, Calico? I''m trying to get to the snacks," Raust interjected.


    Uh oh. Raust must not have seen the mood Calico was in.


    "Why yes! Of course, darling Raust. Snack to your heart''s content."


    Oh yeah, I''d almost forgotten Raust was her golden boy, who could do no wrong.


    I''ll be sure to scold Shugr for leaving me alone with such children.


    We all turned to Eclaire, collectively asking, "Uh. Eclaire, you may have accidentally thought that over the mind link."


    She closed her book and sipped down the rest of her tea.


    "Ah, yes. I seem to have accidentally forgotten."


    Calico rescinded her crown and returned to her seat. Raust took a handful of his favorite cookie sticks and returned to his game.


    We were halfway over the bridge, nearly on the highest point. I liked the bay. It had always given me hope of escape, that one day I could steal a boat and sail away with the kids to someplace better. Realistically though, I did not know what laid waiting beyond the outer walls. People told wild stories of atrocities and demons that plagued the land.


    Traveling between city-states was unattainable for all but the most wealthy socialites, and all travel was done by flying vehicles. Air travel was also the only reliable means of trading between city-states, and the only airbase in Concordia was inside the royal district. I''d only seen planes in old movies and television; they never flew over sector 18.


    My mother told me that my father worked in the mines outside sector 5. He''d seen the outside of the wall, though, not in the free-spirited way I had hoped to. Travel from the sector to the mountain mines was done through a Cambion-made tunnel and a bullet train. I''d never met him. He died on an excavation shortly after I was born.


    My first time outside the walls was during my time at Dead Circus'' main base. It was situated in the mountain range, hidden not far from the excavation site. Though travel to and from it was secure, so like my father, my experience was limited.


    Raust got up for more snacks.


    "What''s that game you''re always playing?" I asked.


    He studied me for a moment, trying to figure out the reasoning behind my question.


    "It''s called Liquid Seal," he answered through a mouthful of cookie, "it''s a tactical role-playing game."


    "Role-playing? What''s that mean?"


    He raised his eyebrow, then walked over and sat down beside me.


    "Role-playing game means you play as a fictional character. So, you interact with the game through them, instead of interacting with the game directly like a first-person shooter."


    "First-person shooter?"


    "Wow, do you really know nothing?"


    Yeah, I really knew nothing. I''d never played any video games before. My mother didn''t have the funds between all my siblings, so we all shared board games instead. The closest I had come to electronic games was my training simulations while at Article C, though I wouldn''t consider them fun like video games were supposed to be.


    Raust pointed out some characters to me from his game, knights on horseback, wizards, healers, and strong armored soldiers.


    "These are the main characters, Effie and Eric. They''re twins, and they''re the nobles of a kingdom that has been taken over."


    "Was it taken over by some other evil king?" The visuals of the game were fascinating. Despite only being colorful pixels, the art was beautiful and exuded a unique charm.


    "I wouldn''t call him evil. The twins and the king both want the same thing, but they take different paths to achieve it. Evil is only decided by the one who lives to tell the tale."


    "That''s an interesting take on things."


    "There''s a reason losing gives you a game over. You can''t continue telling your story as the good guy if you lose."


    Raust laid the handheld in his lap and addressed me directly.


    "You know, once this mission is done, I can show you some video games if you want."


    I stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, taking in the offer. Raust had never talked to me this much before, and now he was inviting me to play video games like we were school friends.


    We''re approaching the second gate; please resume using void. Eclaire signaled us over the mind link.


    Yeahh, well. We''ll talk more later. Raust thought back to me before returning to his seat.


    I closed my eyes and released the silo within me once more. Raust''s words wore more heavily on me than I expected. He spent most of his time nose down in digital fantasy, but I guess his games carried more severe tones than I had expected.


    I looked out the front windshield at what was ahead of us. This gate was larger than the last and was more heavily guarded. Five guards stepped in front of the limo as we came to a halt. We were being watched on both sides from two tall guard towers; the men inside them aimed rifles down at us.


    A man approached Eclaire''s window, the same routine as before.


    "Good afternoon, you from Shugr and Spice?"


    "Correct, sir. We have a meeting in sector R3. The permits should''ve been sent by now."


    "Oh yeah, got the permits from the main gate right here. Though, it doesn''t say who it is you''re meeting with. You know R3 is a quarantine zone, right? I wouldn''t want you getting hurt by any freaks."


    "Yes, sir. However, I regret to inform you that I am not at liberty to discuss our meeting''s details. I was under the impression things had been arranged prior." Eclaire remained stone-faced, not budging an inch.


    Eclaire, are we going to be alright? I thought to her, trying to remain as calm as possible.


    Yes, Sylas, we will be fine. I''ll use my arma again if needed.


    Calico shifted in her chair to face Eclaire.


    I''ve got 13 guards total and one drone on standby. Calico thought to us calmly.


    The guard ruffled his brow, "sorry, ma''am. I hadn''t been made aware. I don''t want to hold you up, so we''ll just have the drone scan the ride, and you can be on your way."


    Eclaire''s eyes glinted for a moment as she spoke, "That won''t be necessary. Our initial vehicle scan should be in the permits."


    I felt a small bead of sweat on my temple; this wasn''t going nearly as smooth as the first gate. Eclaire''s crown rescinded from beneath her chair, but the guard remained still, stuck in thought over her last statement.


    "Ma''am. Go ahead and put it in park and roll your window up," he turned his back and moved toward the guardhouse, "bring in the drone, run the scan."


    Eclaire rolled her window up, then closed her book and set it on the table with her teacup.


    "Drats. Calico and Raust prepare for a counteroffensive. Sylas, be ready. On my signal, activate your arma and get the gate open."


    My hands were clammy. I could hear the drone humming as it hovered overhead, preparing its scan.


    "What is this thing going to scan for?" I asked, trying to keep my teeth from clenching.


    Eclaire flared her crown, this time, above her shoulder like usual. It emitted a soft purple glow like a nightlight and hovered delicately without a sound. The light in her eyes intensified, like a soft colored flame from her pupils.


    "It''s a silo scanner. It''s made specifically to find Cambions using void."


    I struggled to swallow my anxiety, choking up at the thought of going against one of those death machines. Then, the soft hum of the drone turned violent as it cascaded the entire limo in an eerie red beam.

 1.10 Touching Hells Door

    I was not too fond of our daily scans. It wasn''t like anything would change day to day; they had me living in a highly controlled box for crying out loud. Every day, I had the same routine. Wake up, do simulation courses, eat, train, eat, simulations, sleep. I wasn''t too far removed from being a robot at this point, living out my days as if they were only zeroes and ones.


    Beep. Beep. "scan completed. Vital signs are normal. Silo count stable," a robotic woman called out from the speakers.


    "Yeah, no shit, you dumb bot. You scanned me like 12 hours ago."


    "Subject 3108, please refrain from insulting the automation," the doctors told me through the intercom.


    I raised my middle finger to them.


    They had me wearing only a pair of briefs as a dozen doctors examined my scan from behind bulletproof glass, but I was in trouble for insulting a damn robot.


    "Yeah, yeah. Fuck off. Just let me back into my room¡ª"


    A violent shock overtook my body, originating from the tattoo on my neck: my identifier, number 3108. The ink was my welcome gift upon my arrival at Article C; it was accompanied by a handful of beatings and the stripping of my dignity. This place was fucking horrible, even worse than the shithole sector I was from.


    The overhead lamps kicked on, and four caretakers entered the testing area. They grabbed me by my arms and legs and carried me out against my will.


    "Wait," Dr. Amedia stopped them at the doorway, "subject, please remember to complete your simulations before the end of this week. We will be doing evaluations soon."


    Out of all the doctors in Article C, Dr. Amedia was the most tolerable; at least she was easy on the eyes. She was domineering, like a drill sergeant but with glasses and a lab coat. Outside of this place, she was probably well sought after. She had long and well maintained blonde hair, pale green eyes, and tight cheekbones. However, her nonchalantly sadistic attitude towards her ''patients'' was not attractive.


    "Yeah, yeah. If I fail, I die. It''s not so much a threat when it sounds better than living," I retorted.


    She waved her hand, dismissing us, and I was dragged through the facility and back to my room. Article C was an old series of factories hodgepodged into a "research center." The grated iron walkways and exposed steel piping made it feel more like a prison built in a basement.


    The caretakers wore all white, like actual hospital workers. But the white scrubs here were often stained with the blood of subjects like me if we acted out of line. It seemed odd that they wouldn''t wear something darker until I realized it was an intimidation tactic. If they beat us and got blood on their scrubs, we''d be hit harder. So, most patients tended to not act out in the first place.


    The caretakers scanned the card for my room and tossed me through the doors. I landed in the common area, just short of breaking through the coffee table.


    "Is it too hard to just set me down? Fuck off!" I yelled through the closed door. But they left without caring about my angry comments.


    "You''ll never get used to it, huh?"


    I turned back toward the common area to find Ordell sitting with his feet up on the table.


    "How could I? You went through the same shit!"


    "After your evaluation, it''ll mellow out." He closed his eyes and laid his head on the backrest of the couch. "Besides, what can you do? Just stop antagonizing them."


    "Fuck that, Ordell, I''m gonna break¡ª"


    "Oh please," he interrupted, jerking forward, "it''s a nice sentiment, but do you know how many people have said the same thing? Every motherfucker in here."


    Ordell was sensible but blunt. He glared at me with piercing orange eyes framed by middle-parted olive bangs. He had a stern look, but I wasn''t intimidated by him.


    "But, who am I to kill someone''s stupid fantasy?" He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back into the couch once more.


    "Heh. Were you a cynical asshole before Article C too?" I smiled wide at him, and he shot a small smirk back.


    I took a seat on the couch across from Ordell, laid back, and let my bangs fall off my face. I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in the silence.


    "Oh, Sylas! I didn''t realize you were back!"


    I opened my eyes to see Charlotte staring down at me, standing behind the couch. She had pastel pink hair that hung around her shoulders and icy blue eyes that forced me to collect myself before speaking.


    "Hey-hey! I didn''t hear you come out." I smiled as I looked up at her.


    It took me a moment to notice her face was flush. Then I saw she wasn''t returning my smile.


    "Uh, is something wrong?" If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She turned her back, took a few steps away, and pressed her nose to the wall.


    "You aren''t wearing any clothes..." she murmured.


    "I didn''t catch that," I stood up, "what''s going on?"


    Charlotte slowly turned, glaring at me from over her shoulder, her cold eyes shrouded in a malicious shadow.


    "You are naked."


    Oh shit. I hadn''t been paying attention since I was tossed back in here. Ordell didn''t even bear my nude body any thought, so it had completely slipped my mind.


    "..."


    How could I respond? Charlotte was facing the wall again, gripping the bottom of her dress so tightly her knuckles were white. Meanwhile, I was still staring at her, just as naked.


    "I''m gonna...go get dressed."


    "Yeah, good idea. Very quick to come up with that plan," Ordell mocked.


    Why did I remember all this now?


    "Sylas, focus!" Eclaire shouted to me."


    I''d been daydreaming again, but why now? The red beam concentrated horizontally through the limousine.


    WHIRRRRRRR.


    The light moved slowly from the back to the front. Raust was first, then Calico. I gripped the leather of my seat firmly as the light cascaded over me. It felt warm.


    No. I felt warm.


    I caught a glimpse of Raust in my peripheral, with his crown activated. His eyes were trained on me, and a ghostly crosshair burned in bright red in front of his face. He was heating my body with his arma, slightly, but enough for me to have noticed. He was laser-focused, his eyes calm but fiercely precise.


    As the light finished its pass over me, Raust shifted his focus to Eclaire.


    Raust, are you¡ª?


    Sylas, quiet. Let him concentrate. Calico thought back to me.


    Eclaire sat calmly, letting the red glow wash over her. She was in tune with Raust, and they spoke volumes to each other without uttering a word.


    WHIRRRRRRRrrrrrrrr.


    The humming of the drone trailed off into the distance and took the red light with it. Raust released his crown and leaned back into his seat, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve.


    "Do you think we pulled that off?" He asked.


    I could feel the exasperation in his tone; his words were shaky.


    Projection-based arma required more fine-tuning than other classifications, having to channel silo through your body and output it to a specified location. It made me sweat just thinking about it.


    "We shall see. Good work, Raust," Eclaire responded.


    The guard approached the limo once more, and Eclaire moved her crown back below her chair before rolling the window down.


    "Any issues with the scan, sir?" Eclaire asked.


    She was like a statue. Her demeanor was as terrifying as it was impressive.


    "Everything seemed normal. Sorry for the holdup Miss Elliott."


    The gates ahead of us swung open, and we rolled through. The guards watched us meticulously as we passed, and the gates shut behind us.


    "That was nervewracking. What the fuck just happened?" I asked.


    "Darling Raust saved us!" Calico cheered.


    "Well, I felt him using his arma. But what did you do, Raust?"


    I turned to him as I asked, to find him laid out on the seat, sleeping.


    "Oh..."


    "Raust''s arma lets him control the heat energy of atoms," Eclaire answered for him.


    "Well, I know that much."


    "Ahem, If I may continue. The drones used by the military specialize in Cambion detection by scanning the area for silo alongside heat signatures."


    Silo was found in the space between atoms, microscopic particles that made everything aside from matter in the universe. To Cambions, silo was what gave us access to unique abilities that separated us from humans. Naturally, silo flowed freely through our bodies, unlike humans who had silo flow around them.


    "The issue with using void to expel silo from our bodies is the drop in body temperature wCambions suffer while using it. Raust raised and manipulated our body temperatures in time with the scan to appear human," Eclaire continued.


    It was astounding. I''d been amazed by Shugr''s acute usage of his smoke, but that amount of concentration and precision was on another level. No wonder he knocked out afterward.


    "Did he learn that kind of thing at Dead Circus? How do I develop that level of skill?"


    Eclaire walked to the bar and refilled her teacup.


    "Of course. As our operatives, we devote quite a healthy amount of effort to the development of your skills."


    She took a sip and returned to her seat. Calico chimed in.


    "But Raust is special. We''re not sure where he came from, but wherever it was, he already had a solid base of training."


    Raust was boyish, with a baby face for his age. However, he was still a teenager. Despite his childlike inclinations, when I looked at him sleeping now, I saw no comfort. I saw someone like myself, worn by the world and cynically sharpened by it. I wondered what his story was. Was he like me? Or maybe he''d been through a different kind of hell.


    "Miss Eclaire, we''ll be arriving at the requested destination shortly," our driver announced to us over the intercom.


    "Very good, thank you, Watts," Eclaire responded.


    "What''s the story with Watts?" I asked.


    "Beg pardon?"


    "I mean. Is Watts, you know, with Shugr''s company or..."


    "Young master Sylas. If you intend to inquire as to my positioning, know I am an ally of all master Shugr''s endeavors," Watts responded over the intercom.


    I hadn''t seen Watts when entering the limo. The driver''s compartment was segregated from the passengers by a divider with a mirrored window. I imagined him as an old but intimidating man, like a secret vigilante''s butler. Or, maybe an old veteran from some corporate militia, someone unassuming but deadly when crossed.


    "Precisely. Watts will assist us if necessary in our recreational endeavors. But, for now, please think of him as our driver," Eclaire stated.


    The limo stopped on the curb, a couple of blocks from our destination. R3 was closed off to us by massive walls, the standard landscape feature of Concordia, though, they were shorter than the walls in the main city, only about 50 meters. However, they were immaculately detailed with golden adornments and gemmed accents. The gates had no guards outside, and no drones posted that I could see.


    "The security seems a little light, doesn''t it?" I asked.


    Calico responded while lacing up her boots and strapping up her body harness.


    "Good observation. Raust might''ve given you experience points if he was awake," she mocked.


    "Indeed, Sylas. Please stay here with Watts and Raust while Calico and I scout ahead."


    "Isn''t Raust our usual scout? Shouldn''t we wake him¡ª"


    "No," Calico and Eclaire responded together.


    "Alright, I guess I''ll just watch him sleep then."


    "Very good. Calico, let us go."


    Eclaire and Calico exited out the butterfly doors, strapped their harnesses together, then leaped away to the top of a nearby building. The door lowered down and pressed in flush to the sides of the vehicle, giving off a slight hiss as the cabin re-pressurized.


    Raust was still sleeping. I could''ve raided the snack bar, but I wasn''t particularly hungry or thirsty. The thought of not being shot at or attacked was comforting, but I had to admit this was more boring than I anticipated. I hadn''t imagined this return to the hell from my memories would be anti-climactic. I''d had nightmares about this place for years, even while I was still locked up there. Now, I was staring at the gates in the face, and I didn''t feel anxious.


    I was angry.


    I was furious, even.


    I was tortured inside those walls, and now I had to sit and wait as my team scouted without me. What good would that do? We knew what it was. It was a concentration camp for Cambions that needed to be buried in the dirt. What good was scouting out somewhere like this? I knew what it was, and my team was being too cautious and taking it too lightly.


    "Watts, I''m going to do some scouting of my own on the lower wall. Let Eclaire know if they get back before me."


    Chhhhhhhk, the intercom flared.


    "Master Sylas, I believe this to be a foolish endeavor. Your vice-captain gave you directions, and I recommend you follow them."


    Man, here I thought this guy was some badass, and it turned out he was just a scared old man.


    "I''ll be fine, Watts. Just keep an eye on Raust. I''ll be discreet, no Calico type moves or anything."


    I opened the door and left before Watts could protest any further.


    The streets here were vacant, not a soul in sight. Our limo was even the only vehicle anywhere to be seen, taking up the curb independently. Did no one live here? I know we were close to R3, but I didn''t remember seeing another soul since coming through the gate. Maybe only the royal family lived here.


    The buildings along the road were even nicer than the ones in the capital. But, they all seemed so lifeless¡ªapartment buildings and offices with blacked-out windows and unused doors and walkways. I continued down the street, craning my neck to try and find where Eclaire and Calico had gone. I figured they''d be close enough to see over the walls, to try and gauge what was within.


    I already knew.


    I stopped at the base of the wall, looking directly up. I was out in the open, no cover, no security, nothing to hide me. My teammates should''ve been able to see me, but it didn''t trouble me for some reason. I stood in the road, staring at the doors, and as I placed my hand against them, the world seemed to collapse around me.


    My head spun, and the wind around me spiraled.


    My knees became weaker as gravity bore on me and tried to drag me down.


    My hand trembled against the cold steel plates of the door as I struggled to keep the form of fingers rigid.


    Then, I found myself back in my old room, hand on the door out into the facility. I was frozen, my body cold but covered in sweat.


    "Sylas, what are you doing?"

 1.11 Stained Cracked Glass

    Was I losing it? Why was I back in my room at Article C? I had just been outside, right? Now I was gripping a door handle, trembling.


    "Sylas, what are you doing?"


    It sounded like Ordell, but I couldn''t make myself turn around. I was petrified by fear, stricken by confusion. I felt a hand on my shoulder, gripping me tight. Was this a memory?


    "Sylas, this is suicide! If you go through with this, you''ll--"


    My body turned against my will, letting go of the door handle and shrugging the hand from my shoulder.


    "I told them I''d kill them all! That I''d burn this place to the ground!"


    I spoke without speaking, without choosing too like I was merely reciting rehearsed lines in a play.


    "And that''s why Charlotte is gone!"


    Charlotte, gone?


    I remembered. This was the day I escaped, the day we brought down Article C. I had this conversation with Ordell after they took Charlotte from us.


    "Why aren''t you angry, Ordell? Don''t you care?"


    "Of course, I do! But Charlotte is gone because of you! Because you''re too fucking stupid to take a step back and think!"


    "Fuck you!"


    I was doing my best to hold back my tears, to not break down in front of him. He stared coldly, behind those emotionless orange eyes. I felt lucid. My present consciousness was separated from memory, so I had the luxury of feeling these emotions all over again.


    "I know you''ve lost a lot, Sylas. But have you ever stopped to think it''s your fault? You fly blindly with passion, not worried about anyone else until they''re taken from you!" Ordell shouted.


    "Shut up!" I shouted back.


    I remembered this.


    "Then, you whine like a bitch and wonder why life is so cruel to you."


    "Shut up!" I screamed.


    I hated his words.


    "Maybe if you''d ever stop for a second and consider the world around you, you wouldn''t continue killing everyone you claim to love!"


    BAM!


    Ordell fell backward onto the floor, blood gushing from both nostrils. I held my fist tight, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. He wiped the blood on his hoodie sleeve and stood up calmly.


    "See, Sylas. You''re the only one to blame for the graveyard you''ve built."


    I hated him because he was right.


    "That''s fine, Ordell. I''d rather lose someone while fighting than lose someone while watching."


    I''d tried to forget this day. Ordell was right, but I never realized it until it was too late. I was to blame, and I did blame myself every day. I didn''t remember much after that; I left Ordell in the room as I stormed out to wage war against Article C, but my memories were hazy. That was the day, though, when things changed forever.


    I had walked out of the room to find the facility already in flames. Caretakers were spewing bullets in every direction, not even aiming with their guns. I ran through the smoke, the heat, and the blood. The metal walkways sparked as bullets skipped off of them; I pulled my shirt over my mouth to protect my face and lungs.


    I''d forgotten all of this. I didn''t know where I was taking myself, forced to watch lucidly as my memories played out for me.


    "Hey, where you going!?"


    Three caretakers jumped onto the walkway in front of me, letting off short bursts of their guns in my direction. I activated my arma and quickly passed through the barrage of bullets, taking a knife from one as I passed. I slit their throats, one by one, before releasing my arma and letting their bodies fall limp onto the metal grates.


    How could I forget this? How many people did I kill that day? Why couldn''t I remember, and why was I reliving it now? I watched as I continued moving forward, slashing up anyone who stood in my way.


    I beelined it for Dr. Amedia''s office, and by the time I arrived, she had already summoned a half dozen caretakers to her side. I stood patiently in the doorway; all guns were drawn on me.


    "What are you planning to do, Sylas?" The doctor asked me. She was terrified; I could hear it in her shaken voice.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "I came to talk to you about Charlotte."


    "You''re covered in blood! You''ve slaughtered dozens! You call that talking?" She yelled at me.


    "I didn''t want to talk to them."


    I took a step inside, and gunfire was let loose. From my perspective, I gingerly waltzed between bullets, lightly carving out chunks from each caretaker''s neck with my knife as I passed. From the doctor''s perspective, I must''ve gone from the door to her face instantly, before a single bullet hit the wall or body hit the floor.


    I grabbed her by the neck, squeezing fear into her wide-eyed stare.


    "Sylas, what are you planning to do?" She choked.


    "Tell me what happened to Charlotte."


    "I don''t--"


    "Tell me!" I screamed, pressing the bloodied knife beneath her jawline.


    "I don''t know who Charlotte is! You need to stop, Sy!"


    Wait.


    Who was that?


    I slipped from the memory I''d been trapped in, opening my eyes to see the blue sky above me. I felt grass against my skin. Calico was above me; hands firmly pressed down into my shoulders.


    "Calico, what are you doing?"


    "What am I doing? That''s what I''ve been asking you, dumbass!" She pressed her shoulder into my face, laying almost flat across me. "You need to get it together, Sylas!"


    I looked around, piecing together my surroundings. I was no longer outside the gate; I was in a courtyard paved with cobblestone and framed with fields of soft green grass.


    "Calico, what is going on?" I whispered.


    She raised off me slightly and glared into my soul.


    "I have no clue. I was hoping you would tell me that!" She was quiet but fuming.


    Her face was dotted with blood along her cheeks and forehead, her hands and clothes too.


    She noticed my wandering eyes, "it''s not my blood or yours."


    I was relieved but still worried about what had happened. Had I gone into some trance? I looked around again and saw the entrance to an extravagant government building. Then, I recognized it, Article C. I was inside the gates, on the front lawn of hell itself.


    WHIRRRRRRRRRR.


    The sound from a drone surrounded us; it was close, flying overhead somewhere.


    "Calico, how did we get in here? This place is Article C! How did we get through the gate?"


    Calico poked her head above the tall grass for a moment before pressing down again next to my ear.


    "We? You got in! Eclaire and I saw you killing guards left and right from the rooftop!" She snarled into my ear.


    What? Me? Was all this blood from the guards of this place? I didn''t notice till then that I was stained with it. Calico hadn''t got any blood on her at all; it was excess from my body.


    "We heard gunshots," she continued, "then we saw you in the courtyard, slicing through the guards with a small knife."


    Calico let her weight off of me and rolled on to her back.


    "We came down to help, but it was like you didn''t know who we were. You kept screaming about a fire and someone named Charlotte."


    It was some sort of trance. Were those real memories? Or was I misremembering what happened that day? Regardless, I didn''t have time to hash it out at the moment. But, how could I forget so much bloodshed, so much hatred, and anger?


    "Shit. Calico, I''m sorry for--"


    "You can apologize later. Right now, I need you to gather yourself so we can meet up with the others."


    "The others? Where are they?"


    "Eclaire and Watts are inside, Raust is handling what''s left of the guards outside, but we''ll need to help him with that drone."


    Right, the drone I''d heard earlier would be a problem. It could wipe us out in an instant if we weren''t careful.


    "Okay, Calico. I''m ready to move."


    She nodded in affirmation, and we leaped out of the grass. The courtyard was dilapidated, worn by time and violence. There were bodies strewn everywhere, from the front gate to the steps up to the facility. The drone was hovering above the large staircase, idling with its machine gun ready, just waiting for something to challenge it. There was no sign of any mortal life remaining. I guess Raust had finished ''cleaning up.''


    Raust, status report. Calico thought. She noticed my reaction.


    "Can you hear us now? Eclaire didn''t think your connection was working earlier," she asked.


    "Yeah, it''s coming through now."


    Raust reporting. The guards have been taken care of. All that''s left is the drone.


    A sharp scream interrupted Raust''s thought. "AHHH!"


    BANG.


    Sorry, I missed one.


    One thing, in particular, was strange about this whole situation. Why was the drone being passive? Clearly, hostile Cambions had infiltrated Article C. So why wasn''t it targetting us?


    "Earth to Sylas! Did we lose you again? Let''s go!"


    Calico grabbed me by the arm and escorted me across the courtyard to the gate. Raust was waiting, a hunting rifle in his arms with smoke still escaping from the barrel.


    "Giving you an F-rank for this, Sylas. I did not want to be woken from my recharge so soon," Raust said, disgruntled.


    "Sorry, buddy. I wish I could explain what happened back there."


    "Whatever. I''m playing now, so let''s move on with the quest."


    Our issue now was the drone, guarding the gates to hell like Cerberus. However, it seemed like it would let us pass with no problem, but trusting that was likely to get us riddled with lead. Additionally, we didn''t know what was waiting for us inside. Things had changed since I was locked up here, and the last time I saw this place, it''d been burned to the ground.


    Raust activated his arma, bringing to life a ghostly crosshair in front of his face.


    "Looks like the main engine is in the back, underneath an armored panel. We take that out, and the CPU has no juice to work off of."


    That made sense. In addition to Raust''s love for video games, he was also quite an adept tinkerer. He could usually be found working on small robotics or guns if he wasn''t nose-first in a handheld or at the firing range.


    "How do we get the armored plate off it?" I asked.


    Raust looked at me and nodded his head toward the drone.


    "Oh, that''s right."


    Calico was already gone, sprinting through the courtyard, ears and tail flared. For the first time, the drone reacted. The sensor on top lit up red, and the machine gun began to spin before unleashing a hailstorm of bullets. Raust and I took cover behind some stone fencing, barely peeking over to watch Calico in action. Her movements were unreal; she effortlessly weaved right and left, always seconds ahead of where the next volley of bullets would land.


    The entry stairs were framed by large pillars and arches made from concrete. The drone hovered 10 meters in the air, firing down from in front of the second story. Calico''s firm strides left cracks in the ground, and she was on the stairs in a flash. She leaped up the pillars, digging her fingers and feet into the concrete as she climbed. Calico jumped on to the drone''s back where Raust had pointed out the engine.


    She ripped the metal panel off in one swift movement and plunged it back down into the motor. The drone caught flame, and Calico returned to the ground. The engine whimpered, and the propeller motors whined as the drone spiraled back down to earth. It crashed hard in the grass, digging out a rut in the dirt. Sparks and small flames burst and ebbed as the metallic beast died, and the red light went dark.


    Calico stood in front of the stairway, patting the dust and soot from the machine off of her clothing. She released her arma and adjusted the bun in her hair, taking out some bobby pins and reinserting them. Raust slung the rifle over his shoulder and began walking up the path.


    "Is-Is that it?" I stuttered.


    Raust stopped to look back at me, "the boss is dead, isn''t it?" he replied sarcastically.


    I pinched between my eyes, then followed behind him. We''d made a mess of this forgotten place, leaving bodies and destruction in our wake. However, the bodies gave us the answers we were seeking. We were right; something was going on inside Article C.


    Calico waited patiently for us, sitting on the steps and fidgeting with a small piece of scrap from the drone.


    "That was an impressive performance, Calico!" I exclaimed.


    She looked up at me and gave a boastful smile, "no biggie. Once you know where to hit em, they aren''t so tough."


    Both of them were so nonchalant, doing these things like it was just another day to them. Meanwhile, I struggled to hold my composure, thinking about the blood I was drenched in. I''d done a quick count of the bodies I could see. There were at least 15. I''d killed over a dozen men who woke up expecting to go home today. This was supposed to be a scouting mission, and I''d turned it into an all-out assault.


    Was I actually up for this? Was I ready to face this place that still haunted my thoughts? As I tried to prepare myself for what was coming, the three of us ascended to the large double doors. Things were quiet, with only the vague crackling of the flaming drone providing ambiance. I felt like I was walking on fragile glass, trying to keep my weight from pushing through. I was shaking, and I put my hands in my coat pocket to try and keep them from trembling.


    "Sy? You okay?" Calico asked.


    Damn. I guess I was wearing my nerves.


    "I''m fine. Just didn''t think I''d ever come back here, is all."


    I didn''t sound convincing. Not even to myself.


    "Well, alright," she responded, "let''s go then. Raust is already inside."


    Before entering behind Calico, I took another look at the courtyard. Something still felt off about the whole situation, with me going awol and attacking the guards, the apprehensive drone, and the lucid memory. I still wasn''t sure if it was even mine; I had no recollection of something so intense.


    "Wait, Calico!"


    "What is it?" She responded.


    "There''s still someone in the courtyard!"


    She came up from behind me and placed her hands against my back.


    "Sylas, what are you talking about? Are you sure you''re not still having an episode?"


    Did I see something that wasn''t there? Because as I looked back on the courtyard, I could''ve sworn I saw the prisoner I watched die staring back at me from the gate.

 1.12 Descent into Hell

    Calico, Raust, and I entered what resembled an office building. By the time we made our way to the reception desk, we had counted at least 40 bodies in the halls and foyer.


    "This isn''t what I imagined Article C looking like," Calico said.


    "This isn''t it," I responded, "we''re above the real deal. The true facility was always underground; all this office space is a farce."


    Raust knelt over a soldier leaned up against the reception desk.


    "Someone has been busy in here."


    "Someone? Eclaire and Watts didn''t kill them?" I asked.


    "Nah, that''s not their archetype. This scene is too messy. Besides, Eclaire prefers putting people to sleep over killing them."


    I knelt with him and unclipped the soldier''s helmet. He was dark-skinned, probably in his thirties.


    "Check out the damage," Raust began, "nasty bruising all over his face and lacerations on the cheeks and forehead."


    "One of his eyes has been gouged," I added.


    The eye-gouging was Rain''s signature. It was sadistic and sent a message that he wasn''t one to be challenged. Though, why would he kill his own men?


    "Calico, can you check some of the bodies in the hallway? Take their helmets off, check their eyes," I asked.


    "What are you thinking?" Raust responded.


    "I think Rain killed these men. At least this guy here."


    "Why would he kill off his own pieces? That''s how you lose a game."


    "That''s what I''m not sure about. If Eclaire and Watts were pursuing him, you''d think he''d want the backup," I pondered.


    Calico pranced back over to us, a dead soldier in hand that she deposited by our feet. He had an eye gouged as well, from the same socket.


    "All of them are like this," Calico said.


    I stood up from the bodies and walked around to the other side of the reception desk. I began to fidget with the computer keyboard; thankfully, there was still power to the facility. Calico and Raust watched me inquisitively, both leaning on the counter and trying to see what I was doing.


    "Can I help you two?"


    "We just didn''t think of you as the computer type," Calico answered.


    "I used computers a lot while here, actually. I''m hoping the system hasn''t changed too much."


    To my surprise, the system was almost identical as it had been years ago. The computer was already on the login screen, so I tried my credentials from my time as a prisoner. Before the breakout, another Cambion named Derri had hacked the system to increase our security clearance. As long as my login was still valid, I could access the lobby''s security camera footage. Thankfully enough, my credentials went through with no issue.


    Calico and Raust gazed like impressed sports fans. Raust was especially shocked.


    "What are you? Some hacker?" he asked.


    "No, just lucky to have been in the system, I guess."


    That was the only time I''d describe myself as being ''lucky'' for having experienced this place¡ªyears of torture in exchange for getting to watch security cameras, not a fair trade-off, in my opinion. I pulled the files I needed and put them up on the screen. The three of us watched together. Things were calm, with heavily armed guards patrolling the lobby. At the counter, we spotted Rain, talking with a woman in a long, dark coat.


    "Wonder who the female NPC is?" Raust questioned.


    The two of them exchanged a metal case, and the woman left out the front door.


    "That''s weird," I mumbled.


    "What is?" Calico asked.


    "Look at the time stamp on the footage. If this woman left out the front, wouldn''t you and Eclaire have seen her leave?"


    Calico dropped her chin into her hands, "Yeah, you''re right. We didn''t see anyone leave the complex."


    After the woman left, Rain opened the case on the counter and examined its contents. Unfortunately, it was too far away from the camera to get a good look.


    BANG. BANG. BANG.


    Shots rang out in the video, shaking the camera. Rain and the soldiers surrounding him switched their attention to the front door, and they readied their weapons.


    "This should''ve been when you were going haywire," Calico chimed in.


    "So they''re focusing their attention toward the outside guards; let''s see what they do."


    I pulled up the footage from the courtyard, placing it alongside the footage from the lobby. I saw myself, armed with only a knife, seemingly teleporting around and slicing up the opposition.


    "Damn, that''s brutal, Sylas," Raust muttered.


    I wanted to defend myself, but he was right. The footage was unsettling. I looked lifeless, like a puppet killing with no remorse or empathy. Finally, the rest of the team entered the frame. Calico grabbed my body and pushed me to the ground in the high grass. Eclaire and Watts continued up the stairs while Raust began to handle the remaining soldiers. The video feed cut just as the whirring of the drone became audible.


    We continued the video from the lobby as Eclaire and Watts entered. Eclaire activated her arma before a single shot was fired, dropping the dozens of men to the ground in a slump. Watts took the lead, approaching Rain cautiously while Eclaire remained several steps behind. It was clear her arma wasn''t working on Rain for some reason. Rain took no action, allowing Watts to grab him by the coat and pin his back on the counter.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Then, Rain''s crown activated.


    A bright red horn manifested out of his hat, and his eyes burned brightly. Watts jumped back, activating his crown in preparation for what was coming.


    "Damn, the old man had to break out his arma?" Raust seemed startled.


    "Is that bad?" I asked.


    Raust didn''t need to answer. The video showed me everything I needed to know. Every soldier that was incapacitated by Eclaire began to rise, then the video cut as they sprayed bullets throughout the lobby.


    "Fuck, that''s not good! What happened?" I yelled, slamming my hands down on the keyboard.


    Raust turned his attention toward the broken camera high on the wall.


    "Looks like our footage got caught up in the crossfire."


    Calico interjected, "we didn''t find Eclaire or Watts bodies. Where would they have gone, Sy?"


    Good question. It''d been so long since I was here, and the fire took down most of the facility when I left. However, my experience so far was familiar, and it didn''t seem like much had changed. I had a strong feeling Eclaire and Watts weren''t dead because our mind link was still working when we were outside. Besides, killing strong Cambions so quickly didn''t fit Rain''s sadistic personality.


    "They must have gone deeper into the facility, underground into the labs."


    "How do we get down there?" Calico asked.


    I walked away from the computer to the back elevators. The control panel was dim, probably out of order.


    "Normally, you''d take the elevator down to the service level. Then, sign into the labs with your credentials."


    "That''s an easier quest than expected," Raust added.


    "Yeah, on paper. But the elevator looks like it''s¡ª"


    Suddenly, Calico whizzed past me, slamming into the elevator doors and punching a hole through the right side. The momentum she carried with her tossed me on my ass, and she dug both hands in and peeled the right side door out of frame, tossing the metal scraps toward the front of the lobby.


    "Fuck, Calico! You almost killed me!" I yelled.


    She turned back over her shoulder, glaring with malicious intent.


    "You said down, so get your ass up and let''s go," she snarled.


    Raust helped me up, and I dusted myself off.


    "Don''t mind her, just don''t get in her way," he mumbled to me.


    The three of us teetered on the edge of the elevator shaft, looking down into pure blackness.


    "The service floor is on the bottom; not sure how deep it is, though," I said.


    "Doesn''t matter," Calico responded, "we don''t have the luxury of caring."


    She grabbed Raust and my shoulder, pulling us both with her into the chasm.


    It was a magnetic elevator, so there was no large cable in the middle to try and grip too. The only thing that could help our fall was Calico''s arma. I was just worried that we''d hit the elevator car before the service floor if it weren''t on one of the upper floors. The pressure on my body was intense. Air was blown into me hard, beating my exposed skin raw and nearly ripping the fabric of my clothing. I tried to calm my anxiety by counting: Five, six, seven, eight, nine.


    "Hold on!" Calico shouted.


    Calico gripped the collar of my coat and yanked me as we stopped just above the ground. All three of us stumbled into the metal flooring, catching our breath on our hands and knees. Calico was panting hard, and she pushed herself up against the elevator shaft wall to keep from falling over. Raust propped himself up slowly with his rifle. We''d made it to the bottom.


    "I guess that could''ve been worse," I panted.


    My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, though pitch black was still an obstacle, even for Cambion''s eyes. The last obstacle for us to conquer was another set of steel elevator doors. Usually, an easy task for our girlish goliath, but she looked weak at the moment.


    Shit.


    We had managed to avoid running into the elevator car, but that meant it was above us somewhere. If it came loose or were called down for some reason, we''d be seconds away from death.


    "What do we do now? Our muscle is tanked," Raust sighed.


    Calico attempted to lift herself, only to slip back down the wall.


    "Don''t push yourself," I said, "take a breather while Raust and I think this through."


    What to do, what to do? Our time was limited, and we didn''t know what the limit was. I scanned my surroundings as best I could with limited light, but there wasn''t much to observe. The elevator shaft was less than 2 meters wide, with metal plates extending as high up as I could see. Strangely, I couldn''t make out any bolts holding them into place.


    "Find something?" Raust asked.


    "No. More like a lack of something. All the metal siding in here seems to be just floating. There are no bolts or screws anywhere."


    "So?"


    "So, this is a magnetic elevator. The elevator car itself is magnetized, sticking to the siding and applying magnetic force up or down to move."


    "What does that have to do with the missing bolts?" he inquired.


    "They aren''t missing," I answered, "they were never there. These metal plates are magnetized to the shaft as well."


    I began feeling the walls, going to every corner and every side, knocking on the metal like the door to a home.


    Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.


    "Sylas, what are you¡ª"


    Clang!


    Bingo! Found it. A metal plate with a hollow backing, meaning it was encasing something.


    "Raust, use your arma on this spot," I pointed, "tell me if there is a flow of heat there."


    Raust slung the rifle over his shoulder again and activated his arma.


    "Yeahh, I see a thin line of heat. It goes all the way up to the top, looks like."


    My suspicion was right. I had noticed when Calico broke the door in the lobby that it had ripped off in evenly cut chunks. It was a hunch, but magnets tend to break evenly due to their chemical makeup. Breaking one won''t lead to sharding because their natural composition wants to hold them together.


    "The doors are magnetic, not electric," I mumbled.


    With that being the case, the doors were shut by magnetic force and not electrical motors. So, when the elevator car lowered to the bottom, it''s own magnetic force would cancel out the doors, allowing them to repel and open.


    "So, what''s the deal with the wall?" Raust asked.


    "It''s an electrical current. The flow of electricity is what creates the magnetism for the elevator shaft."


    "How does knowing that help us?"


    "If you use your arma on this point in the wall to superheat it, we should be able to create a magnetic field that will cancel out the doors."


    "That''s a thing?" Raust doubted.


    Thermomagnetism, something I''d learned about from a book in my father''s library. By changing the electrical current''s temperature, we would also change the density of the magnetic field. It wasn''t a perfect plan, but if the shaft''s magnetism didn''t match the doors, they''d be forced to repel.


    "It is. But there''s only one issue."


    "Love hearing that," Raust responded.


    I sighed and pushed my hand through my hair.


    "If we open the door this way, the change will likely let loose the elevator car above us."


    "Great, so we only have a few seconds to get through the door before we''re crushed," Raust inferred.


    The thought of being crushed didn''t sit well with me either. It would fall fast and demolish us, but I didn''t see another way of getting out unless we waited for Calico to regain her energy.


    "Alright," Raust continued, "let''s give it a shot then."


    I took Raust''s rifle and hooked his harness to mine. Calico was barely conscious. What the hell? Did the door and the fall take that much out of her? It looked like I''d have to carry her out of this oversized trash compactor. I helped her up over my other shoulder and positioned myself in front of the doors.


    "As soon as these things open, I''m getting us through, then retracting the harness."


    Raust nodded, then focused his attention toward the spot on the wall I had pointed out. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then glared into the metal. I could hear a slight sizzling as a hot spot began to form, making the siding glow dim red. The temperature started to rise around us. I was sweating bullets, and we only had one chance to make this work.


    Creeeeeeeeeak.


    The walls groaned as the pressure within began to change. The metal plates began to vibrate slightly as the hotspot on the wall melted from the heat, boring a hole exposing the electrical wiring.


    Creeeeeeeeeak.


    Fwoosh.


    The doors swung open, shooting apart from each other violently. I quickly tossed Calico and the rifle through the opening.


    Screeeeeeeeeeeach.


    The elevator car was falling fast, and the entire shaft became illuminated by the sparks from above. I leaped out, turned, and slammed my hand into the retractor, yanking Raust off of his feet. He toppled over me, the force of the retraction rolling us both further into the hallway. The elevator car crashed down, smashing concrete and metal bits everywhere. Dust and smoke bombarded the hallway, engulfing the three of us in a thick smog of debris and destruction.


    I was hacking into my sleeve, trying to keep the dust out of my lungs. My eyes burned, and my head felt like it was splitting.


    "Raust," I coughed, "are you okay?"


    Nothing.


    I struggled off the floor, straining my eyes to try and find someone amongst the wreckage.


    "Raust! Calico! If you can hear me, speak up!"


    Still no response. I took a step and felt a sharp pang shoot up my left leg, forcing me back down to one knee.


    "Ow, shit. Did I break something?"


    The smoke started to fade, revealing the trashed service hallway. I saw the rifle, pressed into a corner meters away from where I''d thrown it.


    "Sylas!" Calico screamed.


    Where did it come from? I still couldn''t see fully; my eyes were irritated, and despite the smoke clearing, my vision was still obscured.


    "Sylas! Where are you? Raust is hurt, bad!"


    Shit.


    I pressed my leg down and stood up against the pain. I followed her voice, stumbling into the cold tile walls to help guide me. This place felt oddly like the old tunnels I used to live in like someone had turned an old railway system into a makeshift hospital. Finally, I escaped the rubble and stumbled upon a set of glass double doors locked by a keypad. Calico was on the ground, with her back pressed to the wall, holding Raust''s head in her lap.


    "Calico! Is he breathing?" I asked frantically, hobbling over to them.


    "Barely. What the hell happened?" she winced.


    Raust looked bad. He was unconscious, his chest barely rising from weak and fading breaths. His closed eyes had dried blood at the corners, and it looked like he''d been struck with something on the head, leaving a shallow gash beneath his bangs. Worst of all, his right leg was mangled and his pants torn and bloody.


    "Get his coat off," I blurted, and Calico did what I said.


    I pulled the knife I had been carrying with me and sliced off one of the sleeves. The field jackets we were given in Dead Circus were made from a sturdy kevlar and canvas blend, so the fabric was firm. I took the scraps of the arm and tied it off around his upper thigh.


    "This will stop any bleeding and hopefully save his leg."


    How ironic that the things I''d learned in Article C would be helpful to us now. I knotted the sleeve tight and wrapped my coat around Raust''s torso.


    "Calico, keep an eye on Raust. If you can, get away from here and find us another way out."


    "Me? What are you getting at?"


    "I''m going to find Eclaire and Watts. I know the layout best. This was my world; I''ll find them and get us all out of here."


    "You can''t go by yourself," she protested.


    I ignored her, walking to the keypad and entering the code Derri had given me when we were to break out. My finger moved slowly, lingering on each button, dreading the possibility it wouldn''t work.


    Click. Click. Click. Click. Bing.


    As if by some intervention by a higher power, the keypad lit up green and the glass doors slid open. I stepped through as Calico struggled to set Raust down and pursue me. She slammed both hands into the door as it closed behind me, and I turned to see sympathetic eyes, not angry ones.


    She mouthed two words to me, and I nodded before heading into the unknown.


    Come back.

 1.13 Fallen Angels

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

 1.14 New Friends in Low Places

    I was drenched in a sticky red film. The blood seemed to boil off my skin, heated by passion and anger. My breath was heavy and sluggish like I''d just come off running a marathon. My fingers twitched, my pupils jittered. I could feel everything, every little sensation around me. I wasn''t smiling like I thought I''d be. Instead, I was lukewarm and apathetic.


    Rain''s body crumpled to the floor while spewing streams from the gash in his neck. He clawed at the wound with his hands, trying desperately to seal it shut. Against his best efforts, the blood flowed, soaking his uniform to a dingy brown shade. His blood pooled at my feet, sticking to the soles of my boots like wet mud. Rain looked at me from the floor, a wounded animal begging desperately to be put down.


    I wiped the knife on my pant leg, smearing the gunk off the steel until it was shiny and reflective again. I fiddled nervously with Eclaire''s eye in my coat pocket, trying to clean it off as best I could with my thumb. Eclaire, I needed to find her. She had to be close, close enough to use her arma on me.  Once I knew she was safe, we could search for Watts together.


    "I''ll kill you," Rain choked. He gargled the blood gushing in his throat, drowning in it.


    I stepped over him and discarded him from my thoughts. It was over. Rain would be left to bleed, alone, with no one there to save him. I''d left him how he left me, as nothing but a dying animal. I took one last look at him. His body was trembling, slipping into shock.


    "You''ve already killed me once, Rain. Now, it''s your turn to die."


    I swung the door open and escaped back into the hall. I carried a trail of blood with me as I searched through the remaining rooms, kicking doors open up and down the corridor.


    "Eclaire! Where are you?"


    One after another, I found them empty. I started running, searching for every conceivable hiding place I could remember in the facility.


    "I''ve gotta be out of her range at this point. Should I turn around?"


    Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!


    Piercing sounds of gunfire echoed off the walls around me, overwhelming my thoughts of finding Eclaire. I saw the spray of bullets from down the hall, shortly followed by someone being thrown into the wall. I could hear the concrete crack despite being at least 50 meters away. I gripped my knife with the blade reversed and ran toward the commotion.


    By the time I had reached the end of the hallway, the shooting had stopped. I looked toward the first soldier I had seen. He was face down, slumped against the cracked wall. He''d been splattered against the concrete, blood everywhere. Beyond the corner of the wall, I found more soldiers in similar states, all of them bloody messes, but with no gashes, cuts, or lacerations anywhere.


    "Watts? Are you here?" I called out.


    Silence, so I continued onward with caution.


    Watts was like a butler but also somewhat of a mentor. He trained Shugr in arma, firearms, hand-to-hand combat, and military strategy and tactics. Despite Shugr''s childish demeanor, he was a force to be reckoned with, which spoke volumes of his teacher. It was apparent from the stacking body count that Watts could handle himself and was more than enough backup with Shugr being absent. The evidence toward his credibility in combat even made me wonder why Rain felt confident at all about containing or killing him. As far as I could tell, once Watts decided someone was an enemy, run.


    "Hrrrgh!"


    As I turned the next corner, I was violently hurled back onto the floor. My head skipped off the stone, rattling my brain off the walls of my inner skull. By the time I opened my eyes, a girl was leaning over me, straddling me with her legs and sitting on my chest. I felt something cold against my forehead.


    A gun? No.


    I glanced up to find her holding a nail gun, finger on the trigger with a friendly smile on her face.


    "Hi! What''s your name?"


    "Uh¨CWhy are you¨C"


    She pressed the barrel of the nail gun into my skin and frowned.


    "No. Your name," she scolded.


    "Sy¨CSylas," I stammered.


    Her smile returned, and she relieved the pressure of the barrel.


    "That''s a dumb name!" she giggled. "Nice to meet you! I''m Cythe! It''s pronounced like a scythe, but it isn''t scythe! It''s Cythe! So don''t get it wrong!"


    What the hell was wrong with this girl? How could she insult my name while hers required an explanation? Cythe, like a scythe, but Cythe. Repeating this over in my head made me question if I had ever pronounced that word correctly in the first place.


    Cythe continued looking over me, staring with eyes that looked lifeless and manic at the same time. She tapped her fingers restlessly on the side of the metal tool, humming softly to herself. Her hair was seafoam green, tucked beneath a bowler hat. Her wavy bangs framed her round and dainty face, and her bright pink eyes glowed in the dimly lit hall.


    Cythe was a Cambion; she had to be. But, what was she doing down here? Was she working with Rain, or was she locked up here as part of their new program?


    "So, what''s up?" I asked, trying to insinuate the oddity of our sitting arrangement. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She must''ve been daydreaming because my question seemed to startle her.


    "Oh! Sorry, I got lost in my head. What''s up? Not much, just hanging out. You?" she replied. Cythe was peppy, always bopping between her words with an erratic flow.


    "Well, Cythe," I started, "I was looking for someone before you decided to sit on me."


    "Are you asking me to get off?"


    "That''s kind of what I was getting at."


    "Ohhhhh," she exclaimed, "I get it."


    She hopped up quickly, separating herself from me by way of a back handspring without ever dropping the nail gun. I knocked the dust off of myself and leaned up.


    "Get what?" I asked.


    She stared at me, head cocked to the side. "You like men, right?"


    "What? No, that''s not what I meant¡ª"


    "It''s okay if you do," she interrupted.


    "I know that, but what I meant was¡ª"


    "Especially since you''re a Cambion," she interrupted again, "the bigots would prefer if we don''t reproduce."


    How did she know I was a Cambion so quickly?  Regardless, I''d become sidetracked by this ecstatic, flipping anomaly. I needed to continue searching for Watts and Eclaire. I stood up and finished knocking the dirt from my pants, only now noticing just how much dried blood I had caked on me. Though, Cythe either didn''t see or didn''t care, neither of which was comforting.


    "It was nice meeting you, Cythe, but I need to¡ª"


    "You looking for that old guy?" she interrupted.


    I got excited for a moment, "Yes! have you seen him!"


    "Sure," she shrugged, "he''s with my boss. I can bring you to them."


    Boss. I wondered what implications that had. Was he a government boss? Or was he more of an underground leader, the same as we''d had when breaking out years ago?


    "That''d be fan¡ª"


    Whizz!


    Cythe raised the gun and fired a single nail into my shoulder, fast enough where I couldn''t react. It stung, not as much as a bullet, but a much sharper pain. I tried to recoil, but my body didn''t move. All I could do was stare at the mysterious girl in front of me. As I did, I saw a stream of neon pink lines crawling up the left side of her body. They extended from her lowcut shirt to her exposed upper chest and neck and stopped beneath her eye.


    It was a subtle crown that could be mistaken for a vibrantly colored tattoo in the daylight. But, in this underground tunnel, they glowed brightly like a casino sign. Cythe held her malicious smile as if she''d caught something that had been running from her. I tried to make my body move to inspect the wound, but it wouldn''t. However, it wasn''t like something kept me from moving; I just felt as if my body wasn''t there.


    "Your body is heavier than it looks!" Cythe exclaimed, "you must have some muscles beneath that big coat!"


    She raised her empty hand and waved at me, and I waved back. It wasn''t until then that I noticed the thin stream of red from my shoulder to the nail gun, like an invisible thread that someone had spilled blood on. Was I being controlled? It sure seemed so because when she put her hand back down, I did as well.


    "Don''t worry!" she giggled, "I''m not going to hurt you anymore! This is just safer for me, is all!"


    Cythe cut the string from the nail gun then pulled the other end from my shoulder. It drifted whimsically to the ground as she approached me.


    "Now that my blood is inside you, I don''t have to worry about getting backstabbed!"


    "Your blood is where?"


    Cythe grinned and dug her fingers into the wound on my shoulder.


    "Ow! Cythe, what the hell!" I shouted as she pulled the nail from my skin and licked the blood off of it.


    "I''m not wasteful. I always get my nails back!"


    Great, a psychotic sadist with an affinity for blood and hardware tools. That was probably the number one personality combination that I''d choose to have control over my body. Cythe slung the nail gun at her hip with a long leather lanyard and slipped the nail back into the clip. She fixed her skirt and top meticulously, straightening out the creases as best she could, before doing the same to me.


    "Cythe, you really don''t need to¡ª"


    She slapped a bloody finger over my lips to quiet me, then continued cleaning the grime off me with a small handkerchief.


    "Disgusting. I can''t walk with someone so filthy. I just know Basil will scold me severely. She''ll think I''m some gold digger, just sleeping with you for your money!" She barked.


    "I don''t even have that kind of money, and we aren''t sleeping together!" I responded.


    Cythe stopped cleaning for a moment to get within a centimeter of my face, scowling with a glare that made me shudder.


    "I suppose," she whispered before walking away. As expected, my body followed in her stride against my will.


    Cythe led me through parts of the facility I was unfamiliar with, service tunnels that I had never had the chance to explore when I was a prisoner.


    "Where are you taking me?"


    Talking was the only thing I seemed to be able to do. My body moved robotically without my help, mirroring my bubbly captor.


    "To see Heathcliff!" she sang back to me.


    I didn''t continue asking, assuming I''d continue to get vaguely informative songs in response. Instead, I resigned to my circumstances and studied the information I had before me. I wasn''t sure what allegiance Cythe had, if any. I figured Heathcliff must be her superior, but I couldn''t be sure what part of the government they belonged to. Would the police employ someone like Cythe? Would they let someone so obviously sadistic into their ranks? I guess they let Rain in. Hell, they made him a lieutenant after all.


    What else did I know? Cythe''s arma let her manipulate people through blood. More specifically, by injecting her blood into the victim. To do that, she used nails wrapped in a thin string lace, fired from a nail gun. There was blood on the thread. Maybe her arma wasn''t manipulating others. Perhaps her ability involved controlling her own blood. That explained why she required an injection point.


    "So, you have some kind of haemokinesis? Am I right?"


    Cythe paused her humming for the first time, stopping herself and me before turning around. She studied me from a meter away, seemingly keeping a conscious distance from me. Her caution was strange, considering I was her puppet currently. Perhaps I was spot on with my guess about how her arma worked. Many Cambions made it a goal to keep the specifications of their arma a secret from others.


    "No more talking till we get to Heathcliff." She made me nod, then we continued.


    By the time we reached the boiler room at the end of the service tunnel, I could feel the effects of Cythe''s puppetry wearing off. It''d been less than 15 minutes, but the control duration was likely proportional to the victim''s size and the amount of blood she injected. Cythe paused before opening the door to the boiler room.


    "Now listen," she began, "you need to be respectful to mister Heathcliff. We''re giving you and your people a chance here."


    "Giving us a chance? What does that mean?"


    Cythe swung the door open without answering and forced me to walk in with her.


    "Ah! Master Sylas!" Watts shouted as we entered.


    Watts was bloody, but it didn''t seem to be his own. He sat on a crate across from a man in a long olive coat, draped with golden accents and tassels, as well as military accolades on the breast pocket. Though I hadn''t recognized the name, I knew who it was as soon as I saw his face.


    Heathcliff had sharp and pressing orange eyes and jet black hair swept back into a messy combination of a bun and ponytail. He was unshaven, sporting the rough beard of a war veteran. Beneath his olive duster was a shabby button-down shirt, loosely tucked into an old leather belt. It was supposed to be white, but age and use had darkened it. His slacks were mismatched from his outfit, colored a brown plaid that only matched his chestnut boots. I''d seen him before when the Royal family was on television or at sparsely held parades; he was always close at the side of the ruler of Concordia.


    Heathcliff: The impenetrable bulwark, guardian of the Royal family.

 1.15 Reunion

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

 1.16 Mirrored Sea

    My eyes fluttered, letting in light for only a fleeting second. I felt a salty breeze on my cheek, a cool crisp air brushing past me like a woman''s delicate touch. I felt weightless, translucent, dead. Though my eyes struggled to open, bright sunlight still bombarded my iris''. I tried again to peer out, slowly adjusting to the bright rays cascading over me. The faint hint of salt grazed my tongue, further parching my already dry mouth.


    "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?"


    Colorful orbs spotted my vision until I''d blinked enough to make them flee. The voice belonged to Ordell, a ghost from my past made flesh once again. There he was next to me, sitting leisurely with his face toward the sun. I''d always imagined what seeing a proper ocean horizon might look like. But, even as I stared out over an endless expanse of rolling waves, I couldn''t believe the marvel I was witnessing.


    "Where am I?"


    My words were jumbled but clear enough. My tongue was slower than the rest of my muscles to awaken. Ordell pined over the horizon. I was no longer retrained, though I felt a heavy lull of melancholy weighing down my body.


    "You''re free, Sylas. Like you always talked about."


    Free. Like I always talked about.


    "How are you¨C"


    "Alive?" he interrupted.


    I nodded.


    "I was saved by faith, Sylas."


    Faith? What a copout answer that was. When I asked, I expected to hear more details, not some bullshit on how he found god.


    "You seem dissatisfied,"


    "Well, it''s not that I''m dissatisfied," I continued, "I guess faith just doesn''t seem like a good answer to how you weren''t crushed or burned alive."


    Ordell chuckled, something I''d only ever seen him do sparingly.


    "We have much to discuss, old friend. I hope our talks will help you understand how faith spared me."


    Ordell returned a silent gaze to the horizon. We were atop a wall very similar to Concordia, though the environment felt different here. Despite being on the ocean, the sea breeze never swept through Concordia, as it became overpowered by the heavy smog of industry. I waited, pondering over what had happened. How did I get here in the first place? I remembered looking for Calico and Raust, then blacking out. More importantly, there was the mystery of Ordell. I watched him die in the fire, yet someone just like him was now speaking with me.


    "Do you have more questions?" he inquired.


    "I already asked. Haven''t got a good answer," I retorted.


    "Sylas, you seem skeptical."


    I turned my nose away from him, "I''ve dealt with enough Cambions never to trust things the way things seem."


    "You and Charlotte had a relationship."


    My hairs raised as a chill ran up from my toes. I kept my head turned away from him, if only to avoid exposing my expression. Charlotte and I had a relationship. That was a fact I didn''t even think the real Ordell knew.


    "How did you¡ª"


    "I am Ordell."


    "Even you didn''t know that."


    "I knew more than you think, friend."


    I crossed my arms and looked down at myself. Someone had changed me out of my uniform, leaving me in a pair of grey slacks and a fitted white t-shirt. My feet were out, and my bare heels rested against the smooth stone wall. The waves far below me crashed into the side of the wall rhythmically, churning like the belly of a great beast. I was high up, at least 200 meters, and the fall was straight into the expanse of blue.


    PHWEEEEERGH. PHWEEEERGH.


    Loud groans flowed in on the breeze, causing the wall to shake slightly. I watched something splash in the ocean, far away from where the waves crested into the wall.


    "What the hell are those?"


    "Hoo hoo hoo," Ordell laughed, "I forgot how little they teach you in Concordia! That is a pod of whales!"


    "Whales? What''s a whale?"


    "They''re a fascinating conundrum. A whale is like large fish, but they''re mammals like humans and cambions."


    "That makes no sense. Why would mammals live in the water when they need air to live?"


    "Well, I''m sure that question has been posed for centuries. However, it seems to be ocean-bound has left them as some of the only wild mammals left on this planet."


    "They didn''t become Pray?"


    "You tell me."


    The whales emerged from the waves, flailing wildly before crashing back down into the water with a thunderous splash. They were huge! The largest animals I''d ever seen, easily the size of a city bus or even two! They were beautiful and terrifying.


    "I didn''t know such a beast existed," I breathed.


    Ordell held his face to keep from laughing at me. "They are quite a marvel. Did you know they''re so loud they can kill a person?" Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "What? Are you serious?" I questioned.


    Ordell nodded, "Indeed. Which is why viewing them from afar is preferred."


    I watched again as the grey giants rose into the air then crashed back down. They drifted farther and farther away from the wall, eventually disappearing behind the curve of the horizon.


    "Do you know where they go?" I asked.


    "Wherever they want, I suppose. Such is the luxury of freedom, and they may be the only thing in this world truly free."


    I stood up, letting my toes dangle off the edge of the wall.


    "Tell me about your faith, Ordell."


    He seemed surprised but genuine enough. He rose with me, and we walked along the wall together while we talked. To my left, there was an endless expanse of blue. There was a sprawling wealth of grasslands, forests, and cities in the distance to my right.


    "That day, when Article C came down, I didn''t know what to do. I thought I''d lost you and Charlotte, my only family. But many eyes were watching the downfall happen. Dead Circus found you, and Flush found me. They brought me into their temple and healed me. I was scarred and burned beyond belief, but they restored me."


    "That''s miraculous. But, Flush, who are they? I''ve never heard of them."


    "Well, they aren''t from Concordia. They''re the rulers of Baltigo."


    Baltigo? Where Calico was from? I stopped, and Ordell turned with concern. Was I in Baltigo? That would mean I was over 1000 miles away from Concordia. My fingers began to jitter as I tapped my foot on the concrete. Calico and Raust, the last time I''d seen them, they were hurt. Now, I was across the world with no way of knowing if they were okay.


    I bit my lip, "Ordell. How long has it been?"


    "Pardon?"


    I looked up to him, letting him read the anxiety draped across me. "How long has it been since you brought me here?"


    Ordell''s smile faded, "does that matter¡ª"


    "Answer me," I demanded.


    He glared at me, his face straight and to the point. "You were in bad shape when we found you. It''s been two months."


    I tensed up, only able to keep my eyes drilled into my feet¡ªtwo whole months without a word from me. My team probably thought I was dead. Maybe they were looking for me? But, based on my last known whereabouts, believing me to be alive was a stretch. Regardless of that, I needed to get back to Concordia as soon as possible.


    "I need to go back."


    Ordell ruffled his brows and frowned, "you''ve only just recovered this week. You were unresponsive for over a month. You can''t just go¨C"


    "Ordell. I said what I said. Either you take me back, or I go myself."


    "You''re an idiot, Sylas. It''d take you two weeks to walk there, and that''s assuming starvation or the Pray don''t kill you," he protested.


    "You brought me here, didn''t you?"


    "I did, but¡ª"


    "Then take me back," I demanded.


    I stepped toward Ordell. I''d grown taller than Ordell, and as the sun shifted, I cast a looming shadow over him. I stared down at him, waiting for the next excuse to fall out of his mouth. Something hadn''t been adding up from the beginning. Ordell had gone through so much trouble to bring me here, but what for?


    "I can''t. I''m not the one who brought you here, just the one that found you," Ordell admitted.


    "Why? Why were you pretending to be a prisoner? How did you fake your death in the factory? What was it all for?" I yelled.


    Ordell stayed quiet, staring down at the ocean. I took a few steps back from him, trying to settle my anger. Ordell had lost his composure, and with that, something changed. I turned out toward the ocean again. The sun''s beams reflected off the surface like a mirror, and all my fascinating whales were gone. Without another word, I took a step forward and went over the edge.


    "Sylas! What are you doing!" Ordell screamed.


    I felt gravity push me down, but I didn''t fall. My foot stepped firmly in the sky, with seemingly nothing beneath me. The world around me began to dissipate as the ocean dissolved and the wall crumbled. The winds howled before fading entirely, and the sun''s warm glow became cold and dark.


    "Damn it! What did you do, Sylas!"


    Ordell fumed behind me, now revealed in actual reality. His single eye glowed bright orange; he hid his other eye with black bandages. Behind his shoulder, an orange drama mask shone, one side happy, one side sad. We stood within a warehouse, likely far away from the actual ocean.


    "You lost concentration, and the breeze lost the salty taste you had crafted."


    "He''s right, Ordell. What a poor showing."


    I didn''t recognize the voice, and it spoke from somewhere within the darkness. I heard the clack of boot heels echoing around me as Ordell retreated to the back wall, glaring at me with malice.


    "Who are you?" I asked the stranger.


    "I told you, he''s annoyingly gifted," Ordell snarled.


    "It would seem so," the man continued, "hence why we wanted him in the first place."


    Out of the shadows, a tall man walked out, hands in his pockets. He wore a long duster coat, with a loose and lowcut shirt beneath, tucked into nice black slacks. He had edgy yet comforting eyes that oozed royalty in a purple-blue mix. The sides of his heads were shaved, with the top and back left long and loose. Beneath his right eye, he had long perpendicular stripes tattooed, with a K printed at the vertex. On his hip, he carried a sword sheathed in a dark green scabbard adorned with gold accents.


    "It''s nice to meet you, Sylas."


    He spoke low and slow, with a commanding yet endearing tone. He exuded an overwhelming presence as if everything in the room were beneath him. Despite this aura, he stopped and bowed to me.


    "My name is Atlas. I am the king of Baltigo, and I welcome you."


    "Th-thanks," I stammered, "what am I doing here exactly?"


    "Recovering," Atlas stated.


    Atlas was arrogant and expecting. He''d saved me from Article C, and in return, he expected me to be grateful. But, my mother was the same way, and I''d learned that people often use kind deeds as manipulative tools.


    "I appreciate your assistance, Atlas. But I''d like to be returned home, to Concordia."


    "That''s fine."


    Ordell''s eye shot open, "Atlas, we can''t just¨C"


    FWOOO. CRIIIICK.


    The air instantly became heavy as Atlas'' eyes glowed to life. He glared at Ordell, his face stone cold. The rafters began to crack, and the metal walls began to cry under stress. Ordell was forced down to a knee, then two.


    "Sorry, Ordell. I didn''t hear you quite correctly. Please repeat yourself."


    "I-I-I didn''t say anything, sir. Pl-please disregards me," Ordell choked.


    The pressure released, and Ordell''s body relaxed as Atlas'' eyes returned to normal.


    "Thank you, Ordell. You may remain quiet while Sylas and I discuss things further."


    Ordell nodded, his head still nearly touching the floor. In between Atlas and me was a small table and two chairs. He motioned for me to sit, and I did.


    "I just have some things to discuss with you before we send you back to Concordia," Atlas smiled.


    What was his arma, some kind of pressure build-up? I hope that shift wasn''t from him exuding his presence alone, but I didn''t see him manifest a crown. It''s possible that his crown is subtle, that I wouldn''t have noticed it. Regardless, his malice didn''t seem directed toward me, though I was still wary of him.


    "Alright, go ahead. I''m an open book for the most part."


    Atlas leaned over the table, resting his chin into open palms. "Well, I''d firstly like to explain why exactly we brought you here."


    I nodded.


    "In addition to being King of Baltigo, I am also the leader of Flush. You could think of us as a religious movement of sorts for the betterment of cambions as a whole. We follow the teachings of Jiin and want to spread his word and prosperity for cambions."


    Jiin.


    The same person that Rain wanted to talk to me about. Was there some kind of connection? Rain claimed that something was coming. Was Flush that ''something?''


    "I''ve heard of Jiin. He was the destructive reason for the establishment of city-states."


    Atlas frowned slightly, "that is a common assumption, unfortunately."


    "Was I mislead then?"


    "It''s true Jiin is the reason. But Jiin merely brought about destruction for humans. All in the pursuit of equality for cambions. So, do not blame him for these reactionary walled cities the humans concocted."


    "Destruction is destruction, regardless of the victim," I affirmed.


    "I see. This conversation has been informative, Sylas. But perhaps you learn better through example. We''ll meet again; think hard about our talk before that day."