Ren blinked. His vision became clearer with each lazy blink. He winced as cold seep through his back and crawled into his bones. His head throbbed like his skull has been whacked with metal.
His head was bowed, all he saw was the grey tiles beneath his legs. He struggled to move but felt a surge of pain. His arms were wrenched behind him and wrists locked in restraints that bit into his skin. His fingers twitched as he struggled with restraints.
He raised his head up. He squinted and blinked as white lights fell on his face. The world swam for a minute and then everything steadied.
A glass wall stood in front of him. On the other side, three figures stood together. Two wore white coats, like they were saints who had returned to earth. The third wore a black ZeCO uniform. He had some bruises on his face and a bandage around his arm. He stood arms folded, regardless of his injury, and he wore a hard expression. He was the last survivor of the chase earlier.
"Subject is conscious," one of the men in white said.
Ren swallowed. His throat was dry. "Where am I?"
No one answered him.
A device lowered from the ceiling, its arm jointed and insect-like. The tip hovered inches from his chest.
"Begin the core scan," the officer said.
The device pulsed and emitted a blue beam. The beam rested on his chest, moved down to his stomach, ran up to his eyes and then forehead. It did this twice and the screen beside it flickered.
"That is not possible," one scientist muttered. "Run it again."
The pulse came stronger this time. Ren felt it press into him. It was like it was piercing deeper into his subconscious; like a hand rifling through his insides. He felt himself being flipped upside down.
He gritted his teeth and grunted. He saw flashes of the crimson strings from his trial in the path swimming in his sight. He shook his head and yelled.
The device glitched, symbols and words scrambled on the screen and then rearranged themselves again.
"That is not a standard core," the first scientist said as the device went back up.
"What is it then?" the officer asked.
The scientist hesitated. His fingers hovered over the console like he was afraid to touch it.
"From what the axiometer shows, he has a primary core designation," he said slowly. "It is called the Fool's Flame."
The room went quiet, the other two men exchanged glances.
Ren frowned. Fool's Flame. He remembered reading those exact words after he completed the trial. The words meant nothing to him, but the way the others reacted made his stomach twist.
'What is this Fool's Flame?'
"Is there a sub-core?" the officer asked.
The scientist swallowed and typed again. The screen flickered again. For a moment it went black, then symbols bloomed back into view.
"His sub-core is exactly what you saw him display when you were chasing him. It's called the Burning Deck."
"I have never heard of that," the other white coat said.
"Neither have I," the scientist replied. "And that is a problem."
The scientist leaned closer to the screen. His jaw tightened.
"What is the growth potential of this sub-core?" the officer asked.
The scientist leaned back with a look of disbelief.
"What is the ceiling?" the officer pressed on when got no response.
The scientist's voice dropped. "There isn't one."
They all looked at Ren.
"He killed my men!" the officer snapped, pointing at Ren, "Three men on my squad died today while he just tossed cards. And you tell me what now? That he has a chance to grow above the scale? Not on my watch."
The officer picked up a baton. He pushed a button and the glass that demarcated them from Ren slid away.
The officer approached him, breathing heavily. The baton struck his ribs.
Ren groaned, his body jerking against the restraints.
"Who are you?"
He struck him again on his face. Ren groaned in pain.
"Where did you come from?"
He hit him on his arms.
"Where did you get your powers from?"
The officer yelled and he struck him with the baton continuously till he bled from his nose, mouth and the side of his head. There were bruises on Ren's arm and part of his face.
"Captain," the scientist said behind the officer who was heaving in anger.
"I recommend we terminate him as a preventive measure. If word gets out that we have an unclassified kindling around, the entire Zenith City won't feel safe anymore. We can't even let the Imperium hear this."
The officer stared at the bloodied face of Ren. He grunted and punched his jaw. His head snapped sideways, stars bursting behind his eyes. Blood filled his mouth and dropped on the floor.
"Start the execution process then."
The scientist snapped his fingers. Two other ZeCO officers in gray matched in. Hands yanked Ren from the chair. The restraints disengaged only to be replaced by heavier ones. Shackles snapped around his wrists and ankles. They dragged him down a narrow corridor. Every step he took sent a jolt of pain through his legs.
At that moment, Ren could only think of how much of a mess his life was.
'And I thought Zenith was safer and less brutal than the Outliers. I thought this was the light at the end of my tunnel... what a facade."
He forced a smile even with the pain.
'At least I died fighting.'
They stopped when they reached a small circular chamber. There was nothing in the chamber, save for a single platform that stood at the center, with metal restraints open and waiting. A device that looked like a large drill bit looked over the platform.
The captain cleared his throat.
"You are charged with illegal possession of powers. Unauthorized core manifestation. Possession of contraband materials. And the murder of Zenith City Overwatch personnel."
Ren said nothing.
"This execution is authorized in the interest of public safety."
They forced him onto the platform. The restraints closed around his arms, his legs, his chest. He could barely breathe.
The weapon overhead shifted. It rotated and light gathered at its center.
Ren stared up at it. He wished he could summon his cards but he felt no fire inside him now. Just dead silence within him.
A voice cut through the room as the light swelled.
"Wait."
Everyone froze.
The door of the chamber slid open behind them. Slow, confident footsteps echoed across the chamber.
A woman stepped into the light. She wore a white coat like the others, over a silver dress that revealed itself through the unbuttoned coat. Her blonde hair was pulled back neatly. She had sharp, stunning eyes that hid behind thin lenses.
She took in the scene in a single glance.
"Why," she said calmly, "am I walking into an execution I did not authorize?"
The captain stiffened and rolled his eyes.
"This subject is classified as—"
She raised a hand.
"Stop," she said. "Before you embarrass yourself further, turn that off immediately," she said, pointing at the twirling device.
The other officers obliged and did what she said.
Her gaze shifted to Ren. It rested on the restraints, the bruises, the blood at the corner of his mouth, and finally the pendant hanging from his neck.
"This one," she said, "is not yours to kill, captain."
The room fell silent. The men cast looks at each other.
Ren slowly lifted his head. And for the first time hope hurt worse than fear.
The blonde woman flicked out a laser knife as she approached Ren with a smirk.