"Tsk."
Dax sneered as he swung himself onto the bike, his movements sharp and restless.
Naya's lips curved into a sly smile.
"You might want to hold on to me."
'Hold on to her? Was she serious? am I, a child clutching his babysitter?'
"Hey," he shot back, his voice tight with defiance. "I'm not scared."
Naya smirked, and it was the kind of smirk that dripped with wicked amusement.
"Well, if you said so."
She struck the machine alive with a hammering kick.The beast woke.
Vruuuuum… vruuum… vrum vrummm.
The sound was muffled yet potent, like a caged predator growling through steel. The very air seemed to quiver as if the atmosphere itself vibrated with anticipation.
Gearing it, she revved harder, the rear tire screaming as it spun in place, exhaling smoke and screeching fury. Anchoring her leg, she whipped the bike around in a feral drift, pointing it straight toward the non- barriered edge.
"What are you doing?" Dax asked, his voice caught between disbelief and panic.
She didn't answer.
Then...
Boom!
She launched.
Dax's eyes widened, his stomach twisting into knots.
"Hey... HEY! You're going the wrong way!" he roared as they surged closer to the precipice.
And then....
Vuuuuum!
The bike flew off the edge. Its roar fused with Dax's terrified yell until it was impossible to tell which was louder. Truthfully, Dax's scream overtook the machine's voice, raw panic ripping through him.
Instinct betrayed his pride. He seized the one thing he swore he wouldn't... her. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, desperate, his palms pressing into her bare skin. If they plummeted, it was certain death.
"Aaaarrrghhhh!" His scream tore the air.
But then the machine transformed.
Like some evolutionary beast mid-metamorphosis, its tires retracted, vanishing into the body as sleek, cylindrical rockets; sharp and glinting with sapphire edges, slid outward.
Its form streamlined, smooth as if sculpted by the wind itself. With a violent hiss, blue energy ignited from the twin thrusters, and they surged forward with a devastating burst.
The world blurred.
They cut through the sky, a comet's streak trailing behind them, chromatic blue fire painting a path across the heavens. The roar of their propulsion was deafening, yet exhilarating, as if the bike itself rejoiced in flight.
Dax clung tighter, not just out of fear. The warmth of her body seeped into him. Her cropped top left her belly bare against his hands, and the heat of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing, the faint fragrance of her hair, all of it pressed mercilessly against his senses.
If she realized that this, more than fear, was why he refused to let go, she'd throw him off without hesitation.
The ride was short, mercifully so. The distance between the Beyonder Tower and the Stronghold wasn't far, and with Naya's reckless velocity, it was a fleeting blur.
They shot into the Stronghold through an open balcony near the tower's crown; no rails, no barriers, just a raw ledge daring mortals to fall. As they descended, the bike shifted back, its tires unfurling like divine hands, gripping the ground with a screech as they touched down.
Naya dismounted first. Her laughter erupted, unrestrained and ringing.
"Hahaha! Oh my God.... you were screaming…!" She doubled over, clutching her stomach, tears threatening to form in her eyes.
"You were screaming like a BABY, Dax!"
Dax's face burned crimson, his embarrassment vivid as fire across his cheeks. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
Sure, he was getting tougher. Sure, he wasn't the same punching bag he'd been back at school. But in that moment, he felt like the same old Dax, awkward, humiliated, and desperate to save face.
"No, Ms. Maltheron, I wasn't screaming. Not, you know, fear screaming. It was… uh… a scream of joy. A scream that meant I loved the ride." He stammered, tripping over his words like loose stones. It was obvious he was lying, trying to defend himself, who wouldn't.
Naya laughed harder, her mirth cascading like cruel music. "Okay, okay... you weren't afraid. Right?"
"Exactly." Dax nodded too quickly, puffing his chest. "I was like, 'Yaaaah! I'm enjoying this ride!'"
But she saw through him. Of course she did. She steadied her laughter, but her smirk told him she wasn't fooled.
"Why then did you hold me. huh?"
Dax opened his mouth to answer but words didn't come out, well that did it he was caught. After all, it was not like he held her threw the whole ride for fear. No, there was something else, something much more better, and he wouldn't dare mention it.
"I wish I had seen your face," she teased, twisting the knife deeper into his wounded pride.
Dax exhaled sharply. He'd thought he'd be the one to annoy her. Instead, she'd flipped the tables, leaving him flustered.
"C'mon, I wasn't scared. Why would I be scared? It was just a ride."
"Oh, you're serious?"
"Damn straight I am," he answered, trying to feign courage.
She chuckled again. "You're seriously being serious."
"Yes!" He spread his arms wide in frustrated exaggeration.
Naya tilted her head, savoring his misery. "You're seriously serious in the seriousness of your… seriousity."
"Urghhh…" He groaned, hanging his head low.
She chuckled once more, then gestured ahead.
"Come on Mama's boy. Let's get into the main hall."
'Really Mama's boy... oh God.'
....
The hall was no hall at all; it was a dreamscape masquerading as architecture. Dax swore they had climbed floors upon floors, but when he looked upward, there was no ceiling. Instead, an endless sky stretched above, drenched in darkness, streaked with crimson and violet constellations that shimmered like a painted galaxy.
The walls glowed, adorned with radiant neon lights that pulsed with shifting colors, giving the chamber a surreal glamour, as though it breathed with its own heartbeat.
They entered with the crowd, streaming in like rivulets into a vast river. The seating stretched in columns: to the right, seven rows; in the center, another block of seven; to the left, the same. Pathways divided them like arteries feeding into the heart of the hall.
Then straight above, was a high panel with three seats..... raised like a sanctuary.
Most of the seats were already claimed, filled with murmuring voices and restless bodies.
Naya gestured toward the far-left column, tight to the wall.
"This is the Beyonders' line of seats."
Dax nodded, following her. He noticed immediately how structured it all was; with the seating mirroring the towers. Beyonders to the left. Veilbound in the middle. Transcended on the right. An unspoken hierarchy carved into stone.
As they moved toward the front rows, Dax frowned.
"Why aren't we sitting at the back?"
Without glancing at him, Naya replied, her voice dry.
"The newly stirred... that's you, the Transcended, and the Veilbound... are required to sit at the front for the ceremony."
"Urgh." Dax groaned, slumping as they reached their seats.
When Naya sat beside him, he squinted at her.
"Why the hell are you sitting here? You are not a stirred remember. Oh, I get it. You'll miss me if you don't."
Naya chuckled, then shot him a sharp, withering look.
"You're too full of yourself, asshole."
"Hmph." Dax muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth. "Then why are you here?"
Naya exhaled, smacking her palm against her face.
"Every stirred sits with their Maltheron, dumb Daxxy. Oh God."
Dax smirked, pretending triumph.
"Alright, alright."
But as he sat, he felt the tension. Transcended and Beyonders, though separated by the Veilbound, glared at one another with eyes like drawn blades. Silent threats mouthed across the aisle, whispers venomous enough to cut.
Dax leaned toward her. "What's with the Transcended and us?"
Naya's expression hardened. Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing with undisguised animosity.
"Well, Dax," she said, her voice sharp enough to bite.
"This ceremony isn't just an initiation. It's a competition. The reason the Veilbound are kept between us and them is because we always clash. We fight over who's better. Which facet has stronger warriors. Which side has more high-ranking, iron-willed souls."
Her voice dropped lower, taut with anger. Her head bowed slightly, though her hatred didn't waver.
"And the truth is... they've been winning. For almost seven years now."