The border wall was a looming presence that soared over everything and could be seen from miles around.
Thirty feet high, spiked, and wrapped in coils of electrified wire. Beyond it, the Wastes stretched out into oblivion: dust storms, acid rain, and the skeletons of old cities swallowed by time. To Jax, it was freedom.
Or at least distance from the corpse of everything he'd ever known.
He kept to the shadows, taking shallow breaths in through the scarf tied over his mouth. His bag was light: a cracked canteen, a packet of stolen ration tabs, a half-rusted knife. Not much, but it was all he had.
His veins still pulsed faintly with light.
That soft glow had grown steadier, stronger since he'd left the slums. He could feel it moving through him, a current, hot and wild beneath his skin.
He didn't understand it.
Didn't want to.
He just wanted out.
He arrived at the tunnel, an abandoned maintenance tunnel beneath the old tram lines, said to have been unmanned for years. There were no patrols or cameras.
He ducked through the arch… And ran straight into a wall of muscle.
A thick hand slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling.
"Well, well," a voice like crushed gravel said. "Look who forgot to die properly."
Jax's heart sank.
Deek.
And behind him, five other thugs, all wearing Mordrek's colors.
And standing in their center…
Mordrek himself.
Tall, cold, impossibly calm.
"I knew we should've set you on fire," Deek growled, stepping forward. "You theiving little shit."
Jax slowly moved backward. His eyes turned toward the side door of the tunnel.
Blocked.
No way out.
No cover.
Mordrek crouched slightly, peering at him like he was something in a cage. "You're looking a little too fresh for a corpse, boy."
Jax didn't respond.
"Why don't you tell me how you pulled that trick? Better yet, tell me where my artifact is now?"
"It's gone," Jax said.
Mordrek's smile was sharp and cold. "See, I don't believe that. I think it's still with you. In you."
He snapped his fingers.
Kriv and the other man lunged.
Jax tried to run but they were faster.
Fists pummeled his ribs, his back, his stomach. He went down hard. A foot connected to his side. Another boot flattened his wrist.
He heard a crack.
White-hot pain shot up his arm.
Kriv lifted him by the collar. "Let's see if it comes out when we break him open."
Jax's vision blurred.
His mouth was filled with blood.
And then,
The glow in his veins ignited.
Not faint.
Not soft.
Blinding.
There was a sound, like a high-voltage wire snapping loose.
Jax shrieked.
And the air around him exploded.
A pulse of light burst outward from his chest, hurling Deek back into the tunnel wall with a bone-shattering crunch. The others flew in all directions, two smashing into steel pipes, another skidding across the ground in a trail of sparks.
Mordrek was tossed backward, slamming into the opposite wall.
Jax hit the ground, gasping.
His body trembled.
Smoke curled from his fingertips.
A circle of perfect scorch on the ground lay beneath him.
He looked around, dazed.
Deek was groaning, twitching.
One of the others wasn't moving at all.
Mordrek dragged himself to his feet, blood running down his face.
His one good eye blazed with anger.
"You little… freak."
He raised his gun.
Jax couldn't move.
His muscles spasmed, overloading.
The energy was gone now-like something inside him had ripped open and then snapped shut.
The bullet never came.
Because a siren blared overhead.
Bright lights flared across the tunnel entrance.
From a megaphone, a voice boomed: "Back away from the boy! You are trespassing on restricted territory!
Mordrek snarled and then disappeared into the smoke. He pulled Deek's collar and dragged him further away.
Jax tried to stand.
Failed.
Tried again.
The world spun.
He fell onto the dirt, staring up at the ceiling as dark boots ran toward him.
It all faded.
And then - darkness.
•
Jax woke to the sound of humming.
Sterile. Rhythmic. Mechanical.
His entire body ached as if it had been trampled by a freight hauler. He blinked against the harsh white lights overhead, each one flickering with a faint blue edge. The ceiling was too smooth, too clean. Not a shack. Not a gang hideout. Not a hospital, either.
Definitely not the Ashlands.
He tried to sit up.
Metal cuffs bit into his wrists.
Panic surged. He yanked instinctively-but his arms were strapped tight to the sides of a padded table.
His chest rose and fell, his breathing quick and shallow.
A soft voice buzzed through a speaker embedded in the ceiling.
"Subject is awake. Vitals stabilizing. Begin cognitive baseline scan.
A mechanical arm dropped from above, a scanner disk whirring as it swept across his forehead.
"What the hell is this?" Jax hissed. "Let me go!"
Another voice, older, male, clipped with authority, crackled through.
"Subject 16, you were recovered from Zone Delta-3. Near-critical condition. Unknown energy surge. You were classified high-risk anomalous. You've been brought in for observation and containment."
"Containment?" Jax spat. "I saved my own life!"
"The charred remains of three men say otherwise."
He went cold.
Deek.
The rest.
Gone.
He didn't even know how he'd done it-only that something had poured out of him like wildfire, and then vanished just as quickly.
Footsteps echoed beyond a glass wall.
Two figures entered the observation chamber on the other side: one, a white-coated technician tapping rapidly on a tablet; the other, a tall woman in military black, arms folded, her gaze unreadable.
Jax's eyes met hers through the glass.
She didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
Just watched him, like a rabid dog behind bars.
"Still no spike," the technician said. "His biometrics are… baseline. No voltage anomalies. No energy field variance."
The woman frowned. "Are you sure? The reports from the border said the entire wall pulsed with a surge. One that matched old-world core readings."
"Believe me, Commander, we've tested everything: scans, probes, bloodwork. There's no indication of energy now, nothing residual. He's clean."
Her voice was low. "No one's clean."
Jax twisted against the restraints. "What do you want from me?"
The glass window buzzed.
"Answers," she said. "But you don't seem to have any. So until we find them, you stay here."
The lights dimmed overhead as the two left the chamber.
He was alone again.
Except for the hum of machines.
The room was cold.
Too cold.
The next few days blurred.
Needles. Tests. Scanners whirring around him like insects. He is poked, scanned, pricked, monitored-from dawn to dusk and again through the night. They collected blood until his arms were dotted with bruises.
He didn't fight.
Didn't say much.
Mostly, he just lay there.
Watching.
Waiting.
His body was his, but it felt hollow. As if something inside him had gone dormant.
Or was hiding.
They brought him food: synthetic proteins, a white tray with cubes of meat-like mush and hydration gels. He barely touched it.
No one told him what would happen next.
He learned only through overheard whispers.
"Still no readings." "He should have vaporized, not survived." "Maybe it was a fluke. A glitch. Or something ancient that used him up and moved on."
He didn't know if they were right.
All he knew was that the moment he thought of Mordrek - the rage, the betrayal, the blood still staining his mother's floor - his veins burned.
Not like before.
Not a fire.
More like a coal.
Still hot. Still waiting.