The earth shook again beneath her feet.
Zora didn't hesitate. She bolted forward with her boots slamming against rusted debris as Vektar moved beside her in perfect sync. The Hall of Origins crumbled behind them.
"Left!" Vektar shouted, scanning with his mechanical eye. "There's a drone cluster coming from the east!"
"I don't care where they're coming from, just get me out of this death trap!" Zora yelled back, ducking under a collapsed beam.
The two ran through the collapsing ruin with Zora's chest congested by the dusty air she inhaled. Her legs burned, but her body was finally responding. The glitching from earlier had settled… for now.
Vektar slid to a stop ahead and reached down, pulling open a rusted hatch buried beneath a shattered statue. "Through here!"
Zora slid into the hatch without hesitation, sliding down into a long tunnel. The air had a metallic taste. She hit the ground hard but rolled up smoothly, surprised at her own agility.
"Well," she muttered. "That was… surprisingly badass."
Vektar landed behind her. "You're adapting faster than expected."
"Yeah, well. It's either adapt or die." Zora said dusting her cloak.
The tunnel led them up through a hillside littered with twisted machines and the charred bones of what once might've been towers. When they emerged onto the ridgeline, Zora finally saw it.
The kingdom of Songrin, but not her Songrin.
Below the hill, the once-magnificent capital city stretched out like a graveyard. The skyline was jagged and broken. Smoke trailed from dozens of factory towers and drones glided overhead like vultures.
Zora heaved a long sigh.
"He enslaved it…" she whispered. "He turned our city into a machine for suffering."
Vektar stepped beside her, quietly."This is the cost of silence and seven years of unchecked rule. Horam controls the sectors, the food, and the surveillance grid. But here… here you'll find people who haven't given up... who are still waiting."
"Waiting for what?" she asked bitterly. "A miracle? A girl in pieces who can't even run without glitching?"
"They're waiting for blood," Vektar said softly. "Royal blood, and that means you."
Zora didn't give him an answer. Her gaze stayed on the city as wind whipped her hair back.
Finally, Vektar pointed toward a smog-filled district near the city's edge.
"There," he said pointing to the east. "That is lower Sector Five. I know people there, Mechan dissidents, outcasts, the ones who refused to serve Horam. It is not safe, but it is quiet. You can lay low and learn how to control your new body."
She turned to him slowly, narrowing her eyes.
"You sure that's all you want from me?"
Vektar turned towards her, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I mean my mother's voice rang in my brain like a warning bell and she said not to trust you." Her tone was calm, but her words carried meaning. "So... tell me, Vektar, are you planning to turn me in?"
"No."
"Planning to control or reprogram me?"
"No."
"Then say it," she challenged, stepping closer, "Say you have no intention of betraying me."
He didn't blink. "I have no intention of betraying you."
Zora studied him for a moment longer, searching for changes in his composure.
"Fine," she said. "But don't expect me to stop watching you."
"That," he said, " that would be wise."
She turned away before he could say more, her boots crunching over stones.
They descended toward the outer ruins in silence, their path weaving between fallen metal trees and the cracked sculptures of past rulers of Songrin. Vektar began outlining the plan... secure a safehouse, meet with a rebel mechanic named Senn, and gather intel on Horam's new chain of command.
Zora barely listened. Her mind kept replaying her mother's voice that whispered warnings no one else could hear.
She didn't know what was real anymore, but she did know her gut, and her gut said, stay sharp and don't sleep on trust.
"So," she said, breaking the tension with a smirk, "any chance this rebel safehouse has a real bed and not just a metal slab that smells like armpits?"
"If it does," Vektar said, "we'll both be shocked."
"Oh joy," she muttered. "A rebel sleepover. All I'm missing is nail polish and unresolved trauma."
He gave a brief nod that might've been a chuckle.
They turned a corner and stopped. Something was there.
A tall, armoured figure stood in the middle of the road ahead. Its frame gleamed obsidian-black, and it was sleek and silent. A glowing red optic eye blinked from behind its helmet. Across its chest, etched deep into the metal, was the royal symbol of Songrin.
Zora's blood ran cold.
"Dromain," Vektar whispered." It is a specific type of hunter with an advanced tracking unit. It should not be this far out."
The Dromain stepped forward and it spoke with a voice that was almost human but slightly distorted.
"Princess Zora," it said.
Tension spread across her body. "It knows my name."
"It knows more than that," Vektar said, stepping forward.
The Hunter's scanner pulsed as it locked onto her. Zora could see the text:
Subject: Zora Aiden.
Classification: Unknown Asset.
Threat Level: Processing...
DNA Match: 100%.
Bloodline Confirmed.
It raised a weapon, glowing red this time. Zora reached for her blade... but it didn't fire.
Instead, it stared for a long moment and slowly lowered the weapon, tilting its head.
"Your blood survives," it said. "I know your blood."
And then, with a shimmer of light, the Dromain disappeared into stealth mode and was gone.
Zora stood frozen.
"They're not just hunting me," she said quietly, "They're recognising me. She glanced at Vektar with a slow, growing smile.
"Good," she whispered. "That means Songrin hasn't forgotten me."