Later that night, when the compound goes quiet, I sneak to the surface.
The curfew sirens haven't howled yet. The watchlights from the arena tower sweep low and lazy, and Vaelrin stretches out in all directions—dark, fractured, gleaming like teeth beneath moonlight. Broken towers stitched with power lines. Feral alleyways tucked behind chrome walls. The past and the future twisted into something that doesn't fit either.
I sit on the edge of a half-collapsed balcony overlooking the city's west sector. Below me, the ruins hum with a thousand quiet lives—fighters, spies, ghosts. All waiting. All surviving.
I came here with fire in my veins. Vengeance. Clarity.
Now?
Now I've got questions clawing under my skin like thorns.
I lean my head back against the cold stone and exhale slowly. "Kael Riven."
Even just saying his name feels like summoning something.
The Council's golden boy. The Blade they trained from childhood. The one they unleashed in battles no one walked away from. The one with wildfire eyes who fights like war is his only language.
And yet…
He didn't kill me when he had the chance.
He didn't even try.
What the hell is he doing here?
If he's theirs, this whole thing—The Trials, the Storms, the Veils—is just a game. A trap. And I'm dancing right where they want me.
I reach into my coat and pull out the piece of my clan crest I've kept hidden since the day I arrived. Vireya steel, chipped and blackened. The only proof I ever existed before Nyra Vale.
"You made me a ghost," I whisper to the Council, to the sky, to whatever gods still haunt this place. "But ghosts remember. And they don't forgive."
Behind me, the wind rises. Somewhere far below, a train screams past the ruins.
And high above, the arena lights flicker once.
Wait.
Who is that?A figure-draped in the Council's standard cloak,black with silver trim, movements practiced, deliberate.
The one, who had a conversation with Kael.
I started following the figure from a distance, boots silent over shattered stone and neon-drenched metal.
I don't know his name, but I know the insignia on his collar.
High Commander.
He slips down a path hidden behind the old observatory tower, where cameras blink blind and static clogs the signal. Suspicious. Very.
I move faster, ducking low behind a fractured column as he descends beneath the ruins—into a sealed corridor masked by illusion tech.
The wall flickers as he passes. A cloaking rune. I wait a beat, heart drumming steady against my ribs. Then I step forward, press my palm to the same place—
And everything goes dark.
I'm through.
The passage on the other side is cold and too quiet, lit by low flickering blue lights embedded into the walls. It feels like a place that shouldn't exist. Like a tomb wired with electricity.
I walk lightly, every step a breath held in my throat. And then—
A noise. Behind me.
I spin, already mid-strike, ready to slam my elbow into whoever—
"Whoa!"
My arm is caught.
Jace.
He holds my wrist, eyebrows raised. "Good to see you too."
Beside him, Rei crosses her arms. "We could say the same thing. What the hell are you doing down here?"
"I could ask you both the same damn thing," I snap, pulling my arm free. "Are you following me?"
"We weren't, but now I'm curious," Jace says. "You planning to take on the Council solo?"
I bite the inside of my cheek. "I saw someone. High command. He came down here like it's routine. Like this is normal."
Rei steps past me, eyes narrowing at the hallway ahead. "So we're already in it."
I sigh, shaking my head.
And just like that, without planning, without speaking it aloud—
We move together.
Three shadows in a corridor that shouldn't exist. A rebel, a rogue, and a ghost. Bound not by trust yet—but by purpose.
There's something buried beneath Vaelrin.
.
.
.
We press deeper into the corridor, the blue light flickering like dying stars overhead. The walls pulse faintly with energy—tech laced through stone like veins. The air shifts. Colder. More metallic.
Ahead, the Council agent slows and turns into a side chamber—its entrance framed by curved glass and reinforced steel.
We stay in the shadows, crouched just out of sight. There's a hum, then voices. Filtered. Distorted.
"…Trial Three will eliminate her. If Subject 17 resists again, activate Override Protocol."
A pause.
"…No. She doesn't know yet. But ,does he?."
My spine locks.
Subject 17. Override. She.He.
Rei looks at me sharply, eyes narrowing.
But before I can piece it together—another voice joins in, colder, clipped.
"…and if she doesn't understand? It can be unseal early."
"Then we can control it all."
My blood goes ice-cold.
They're not just talking about fighters. They're talking about control.
Maybe about us.
I shift slightly, heart pounding, breath tight.
But then—the agent pauses mid-sentence.
He turns.
Rei curses under her breath. "Shit. He felt us."
I grab Jace's arm and we back up—quiet, fast—but not fast enough.
Behind us, another light flickers on.
Footsteps. Heavy. Purposeful.
Someone else is coming.
Not the same footsteps. Not the agent. Someone else. From the opposite end of the corridor.
The air thickens. I glance at Rei. At Jace.
We're trapped.
All three of us look at each other, hearts syncing in shared panic, jaws clenched tight.
No words.
Only breath.
Only the realization—
We're not supposed to be here.
And someone is about to make sure we never leave.
.
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