A cold night loomed over a city named Abide-Grymsnow; it was the kind of winter night that didn't just numb your fingers but stung your eyes when the wind tried to rush into your skull.
Beneath the flickering street lamps, a boy ran through the slush of the alleys. He was thin, though his slender frame made him look more imposing than he actually was. Exhaustion showed in his sunken eyes, and thin scratches marked his cheeks. He held his thin coat tight, but the fabric was too frayed to offer much defense against the biting wind. Focus, Nova; you spent two days looking for him. You can't let him die now.
He had been in Abide-Grymsnow for a few weeks now, drifting between cheap hotels and eating vendor food by claiming small jobs — vermin clearing in cellars, retrieving lost items for people. He wasn't known by name in the city's underbelly, just a new face in a town that treated strangers like a sickness.
He stepped toward the corner of the square and looked up at the sign: Peachy's Corner. The bell chimed as he slumped inside; the scent of brewing coffee and incense flooded his nose, and he grimaced. The paint on the walls was fading, and a layer of dirt beneath his feet made him feel like he could slip if he ran fast enough.
This place is gross, Nova thought.
There were booths to sit in, but the leather looked sticky to the touch; the tables were clean enough for him. Is the lack of cleaning because there are no customers, or are there no customers because of the lack of cleaning?
"Welcome in, sir," a young girl said. She wore a plain black shirt and jeans with a pink apron and a hat with a small peach stitched into the side. As the boy pulled down his hood, revealing the jadedness etched into his features, her posture softened. "Oh, my apologies. I didn't know it was you, Mr. Small Claims."
"Don't call me that," he demanded.
"Of course, but I've seen you around from time to time." She crouched slightly to press a hidden button under the counter. "My boss will be here shortly." She smiled.
"Thank you, eh..." The boy squinted, his brain struggling to process the letters on her name tag through the exhaustion. "Gala."
He gave her a polite nod and slumped into a chair. The café was unusually quiet, save for the hum of the lights and the mechanics of the espresso machine. He flipped his phone open for the time. It's 23:15. Why is a café even open this late?
When he looked back up, the seat across from him was occupied. A woman sat with her legs crossed, looking like she owned the very air he was breathing. Dressed in the same attire as Gala, but fashioned a bit differently, her hat wasn't straightened like Gala's; she wore no apron, just a black T-shirt with a peach pin on her chest parallel to her name tag.
"What do you want?" she asked, pulling out a cigarette.
Nova looked at her name tag. "Nice to meet you, Loja," he said through tired lips.
Loja rolled her eyes and barked, "Gala! Light!"
Gala rushed over, balancing two coffees on a tray. With a flick of her finger, dust-like particles swirled above it, condensing into a tiny flaming rock in front of the cigarette. As it ignited, Loja inhaled deeply and blew a thick cloud of grey smoke directly into the boy's face.
"Come on now," he coughed, waving the haze away. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his cloak. Missing cat, name Coco, reward 100 Nitche.
"So you found him?" she asked with a smirk.
He pulled his cloak open, revealing a shivering white kitten tucked into a hidden inner pocket. "Here he is."
"Actually, it's a she," Loja teased, with a grin.
"I've stayed up for two days straight looking for this cat; I couldn't care less about its gender," he rasped, his voice dropping into something scornful. "Now stop wasting my time and give me my money."
Loja's amusement died instantly, replaced by sharp annoyance. She blew more smoke toward the counter. Gala opened the cash register for her, and her smoke carried a 100-nitche bill across the table, guiding it to Nova. "There's your money."
He stared at the bill and sighed. "I don't carry big bills." He slid it back to her.
"Well," Loja said, the smirk returning, "I guess you do now." Her smoke moved it back.
Knowing his time was limited, he reluctantly took the bill and tossed Coco into Loja's lap before snatching one of the coffee cups off the table. He left the café fuming, hotter than the coffee in his hand.
Nova made his way to a hotel named the Stay Night Tower — nicer than the ones he'd been spending nights at. He stood in the lobby, his boots leaving muddy muck on the marble floor. The air here didn't feel like the rest of the underbelly; it felt lighter, and smelled like vanilla. How could a hotel like this exist in this part of town?
The receptionist looked up, her smile friendly and professional, but her eyes judging the fresh scratches on his face and the frayed, dripping coat he wore. "Hi, sir, how can I help you tonight?"
"I need a room," Nova said, his voice still raspy from the cold. He pulled the 100-nitche bill from his pocket and slid it across the counter. "For as long as this can give me."
The woman's eyes lingered on the bill, then moved back to Nova. "Of course, that's no problem. I just need to see some ID to get you checked in."
"ID?" Nova stammered.
"Yes," she said, her smile remaining perfectly fixed. "A government-issued photo ID or your Manick Signature Card. We just need to log your frequency for the building's security wards."
Nova stared at the counter. A Manick Signature Card was for documented citizens of a nation, but on paper, Nova was a ghost in the eyes of the law.
"Yeah... I kinda don't have that."
Nova didn't wait for her to tell him to leave. He grabbed the bill, shoving it back into his pocket with trembling fingers, turned, and walked back out into the freezing night.
He wandered the streets, his stomach trying to eat itself. He spotted a small late-night diner, its windows flickering with the blue light of neon signs. Against his better judgment, he entered and sat at the bar, listening to the local news on a small radio.
"After a star was seen FALLING — that's right, FALLING — from the sky, tremors have been getting worse around the city. Could this be a terrorist attack from the sky islands, or is this a sign that our beloved city will come to an end?" the anchor spouted.
Nova pulled out a piece of paper that looked like it had been torn from a newspaper: "Meteor sighting seen in Abide-Grymsnow," with the rest of the article nowhere to be found.
"There's gotta be some type of rare minerals there," he thought out loud.
"It's always something going on in this city," a man in front of him muttered, notepad in hand.
"Whatcha want?" The gruff man towered over Nova, a belly bigger than a pot and a wrinkled snout for a face. He tapped a pen against the notebook, eyes narrowing on Nova.
"You got an animal ability or something?" Nova questioned.
The man glared at him. "You know it's rude to ask that? I can't control what I look like."
"I apologize; I didn't mean anything by it. This is just one of the few times I've seen ani-men in this country."
The pig man loosened up a bit. "If you didn't mean anything by it, then I guess it's fine. So whatcha want?"
"Just give me the biggest platter you've got."
"For someone your size, it'll kill you," the man snorted. He looked at the boy's face, and the boy stared back with an empty look that eventually made the man chuckle. "One everything platter!"
Minutes later, a mountain of meats, grains, and vegetables was set before him. He ate with barbaric intensity. When he finally leaned back, huffing, he felt his heart rate slow.
"Your bill is 90 nitches," the server said, sliding a slip onto the counter. "And don't forget the tip."
Nova jolted up, the sleep-deprived fog suddenly clearing. "Huh!?" He grabbed the slip. "90 nitches for a platter? What kind of meal was this!?"
"The kind where we serve you, and you pay when you eat," the man stated sternly.
Reluctantly, Nova handed over his only 100-nitche bill. He waddled out of the diner full-stomached and empty-pocketed, scammed out of 48 hours of work in ten minutes.
The rain began to fall in a cold, heavy downpour that soaked through his thin coat. Shivering, he scanned the streets for shelter.
"There's got to be somewhere dry," he muttered.
Desperate, he ran to a nearby sewer grate. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time," he muttered, prying it open and sliding down the ladder. He hit the bottom and was immediately hit by the pungent stench of feces and rust. Dim lights hung overhead, barely lighting the path ahead. He flipped his phone open to check for water damage. "Thank the gods it still works." He wrapped part of his hood around his nose and pushed deeper into the tunnels.
"I just gotta hold out for the night," he whispered. "I can find a utility room."
As he moved through the sewers, he stopped at a path with no lights on. He frowned at the oddity, and even after breaking his rhythm, he heard the faint sound of extra footsteps continuing for a second.
Clack. Clack. Then the footsteps stopped.
"Who's there!?" he yelled. Feeling that something was off, Nova pulled out his phone and activated the flash.
The flash couldn't pierce the darkness, but Nova could see particles of energy floating in the damp air, congregating to one spot.
"I SAID, WHO'S THERE?"
He was met with silence.
"Okay! I know your game! You saw me pay for that meal with my hundred-nitche bill, and you want my money!" He yanked his pockets inside out. "Well, I ain't got no more. So stop following me," he yelled nervously.
As Nova began to backpedal, the energy joules started to take form.
Manick particles?
Before he could process it, a sound of vibrations echoed, and a giant disc of energy rushed at him.
"Shit!"
He dove, lying flat against the slimy sewer floor. The disc hissed over him, leaving a dark gap in the wall where a horizontal cavity had been perfectly erased into the stone. Nova looked up, readying for another attack. The presence was closer now. Twenty feet.
Nova steadied his voice. "Nah." He slowly backed away, keeping a steady pace — one slip-up, and he was done for. He glared into the darkness once more. Ten feet away, he could barely make out a silhouette. "I know you're there," Nova said.
"I wish you hadn't noticed me." A girl stepped into Nova's view. Her skin was a fair bronze, her hair a deep, jade black, tightly curled and pulled back into a neat bun that mirrored her dark eyes. As she moved, the dim light caught the glint of gold and silver — multiple piercings along the curve of her ears and the bridge of her nose, twinkling like stars. She wore a pristine, white knitted long-sleeve sweater and a flowing white skirt that reached down to her shins. A collection of bracelets clinked softly at her wrists, but Nova's eye was drawn to one in particular — a silver band with a jagged crystal embedded deep into its center.
Nova noted the bracelet. "That a cluster?"
"That doesn't matter." Her bracelet began to rattle slightly. Nova watched manick particles vacuum into it as her hands rose toward him; a disc of manick particles started to form.
"Shit, wait." Nova put his hand up to stop her.
"No." Manick joules shot from her fingertips, decimating the surrounding area. The sewer shook with the impact. This time the ceiling and floor took the damage, the cast running vertical instead of flat.
"AHHH, MY ARM! YOU CUT IT OFF!" Nova rolled on the floor, wailing in pain, squeezing his shoulder and holding his eyes shut.
The girl looked at him with pity. Without a word, she turned away, lifting her arm to finish him off.
"Wait! Please, I have one thing to ask!"
The particles stopped forming, and she looked at him again. "Make it quick."
"My phone — after you kill me, call my sister in my contacts. Here, I'll unlock it for you." Nova dug into his pocket with his good arm. "Here, take it."
The girl reached to take the phone but was met with an uppercut to her chin, knocking her out. Nova quickly caught the bracelet as it slipped, prying it off and stashing it in his coat pocket. Thirty seconds later, the girl came to. Nova sat atop her, holding her hands behind her back with her sleeves knotted for good measure.
"You... lied," she whispered, starting to cry. She looked at his arm — fully intact, still gripping her wrists.
"It's literally one of the oldest tricks in the book." Nova pulled out her bracelet and dangled it in front of her. "Look what I've got~"
The girl thrashed back and forth until Nova fell off her.
"Shit," Nova whispered.
As the girl unknotted her sleeves, she pounced on Nova, ready to take the bracelet back.
"Where is it!?" she shouted, gripping his collar and shaking him.
"I lost it when you tossed me off." Nova pushed her off him and sat on her once more.
"Damn it," she said, tearing up even more.
Nova felt awkward looking at the girl. "Jeez, didn't think you'd cry so much."
"It's not that," she sniffled. "I'm on the floor of a sewer, and it smells like shit."
"Should've thought about that before following me in here," he smirked.
She lay there silent, holding her breath, trying not to take in the smell.
Nova rolled his eyes. "What's your name?" She didn't respond, trying to get up instead. "We're not doing this again." Nova twisted her arm into her.
"Ahh!" she yelled in pain. "It's Oblivi."
Nova stopped. "Oh, now we're speaking."
"Yeah, because she's here," she frowned.
"What?" Nova whipped around to be met with a cloth over his mouth and a voice in his ear: "Sleep."