Page 60

EON

T he Church was located in the Blue District, but it was close enough to Magenta that you could see the grime soaking up between the buildings. It took up an entire block. It almost looked like a warehouse, nondescript except for the massive blue neon cross that covered the three-story facade.

For once, it wasn’t raining. Auspicious, according to some.

“Man, we really need to start taxing these motherfuckers.” I looked over at Cy as he mumbled. He was cast in sharp relief by the sign, his broad nose and high cheekbones highlighted in the ethereal glow.

“Who, the government or POM?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. Look at this monstrosity. Even this close to Magenta, this much land’s worth a billion at least.”

“Starting to sound like a bleeding-heart rebel.”

He tilted his head toward me with that wicked grin. “Don’t get too excited. I’m still a corpo dog. Don’t let my new look fool you.”

Ironically, he looked more corporate now than he usually did. He’d let me change his hair to a more neutral black and slick it back into a clean, high bun. He wore a standard but sharp suit to match my conservative dress. I eyed him up and down with a grin, and he frowned, tugging at his collar.

“I hope you’re enjoying this, because it’s not happening again.”

“It’s about playing a character, Cy. It’s easier when you have a costume.” He’d pouted, but let me do it nonetheless.

He was still staring at me. “What?”

“Never thought I’d have a thing for blondes, but you make it look good.”

I rolled my eyes. “Get a grip, corpo. Are you ready?”

He nodded and slid his arm through mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We walked through the front doors into the Church’s atrium.

I’d attended church in the outlands as a child.

It had been an old barn, always packed with bodies that stank of sweat from the heat and long days of work.

I remembered playing on threadbare carpet with the other kids while the priest droned on.

I mostly ignored it, as children do, but I remembered it being warm, friendly, and filled with joy.

This place was nothing like that.

The atrium was long and narrow, and uncomfortably cold. Thin, icy-blue pipes of Stellarium framed the ceiling and drew the eye to the far end of the space, where a glowing blue arch beckoned. It was meant to be isolating and overwhelming.

We walked toward the arch, our footsteps echoing like gunshots in the hollow space. Near the arch, a woman stood, her face covered in the translucent white veil of the Church, her neon halo casting her features in harsh lines.

“Welcome, children of Light. I’m sorry, but the Church is closed to all but Echelon-level members tonight.”

I put on my best disappointed look, tilting my head like I was just so heartbroken to be turned away. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. We were recommended by Brother Ian—he told us to come as soon as possible. Said it was urgent.”

The Sister’s expression wavered for just a second, enough for me to catch a flicker of uncertainty before she pasted her polite smile back on.

“Yes,” Cy chimed in smoothly, looping an arm around my waist in an easy, possessive gesture. “My wife here, you see, she’s been—”

I let my Flux pulse, just a little. The faint crackle of electricity sparked in the air, more visible in the dim light. My knees buckled, and I leaned heavily against Cy, letting out a soft gasp like I was overwhelmed.

Cy caught me effortlessly, his arm tightening around me in a way that felt natural, like he did this every day.

He shifted his weight to support me fully and glanced down with what even I almost believed was genuine concern.

His acting wasn’t half bad, and for a split second, I forgot we were lying.

The Sister, however, couldn’t even fake subtlety. Her eyes widened, and the greed practically radiated off her as she watched the sparks skitter across the floor toward her feet.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, making my voice tremble. “Sometimes it’s just too much.”

Her smile stretched wider, a saccharine grin that made my stomach churn. “Oh, my poor darling. Of course, of course. I’ll get someone to see you right away. Father Malachi is busy, but perhaps Brother Lucas can—”

She stepped back, muttering into her Vysor.

Cy leaned down, his breath brushing my ear. “So manipulative. I love seeing this side of you, jerking these fools around.”

“Am not,” I whispered back. “Stay in character.” I nudged his ribs with my elbow.

He chuckled. “Whatever you say, wife.” He tightened his grip around my waist unnecessarily.

“Brother Lucas will see you now,” the Sister said, reappearing with that same rehearsed smile. She gestured for us to follow.

The walk through the Church was just as staged as the atrium. Every detail was designed to impress—or intimidate, depending on how you looked at it. The hallways were lined with shimmering Stellarium mosaics depicting angels, celestial beings, and streams of divine light. None of it was comforting.

The Sister led us through it all with quiet reverence, occasionally glancing back at me like I might collapse at any moment.

Cy kept his arm around me, playing the worried husband a little too convincingly. I let myself lean into him, if only to sell the act, though I couldn’t help but notice how warm and steady he felt.

After a few long corridors, we were ushered into a small chamber. The room was sparse, save for a heavy wooden table and a few high-backed chairs. A man in a simple white robe waited for us, his hands folded and head bowed like he was mid-prayer.

“Brother Lucas,” the Sister announced. “These two seekers have come to us on urgent recommendation.”

The man lifted his head, his eyes flicking to me first, lingering a moment too long on my trembling, spark-laced hand. He smiled, and it was all teeth.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice smooth and practiced. “You must have been chosen by the Light. Please, sit.”

The room was dimly lit, the glow of Stellarium mosaics casting ethereal patterns across the walls.

Brother Lucas folded his hands neatly on the table, his sharp eyes flicking between us.

He radiated a calm authority, but there was something else in his gaze—a hunger just barely concealed beneath his polished demeanor.

“You’ve come to us in a time of great need, my children.

The world around us is shrouded in darkness.

Nowhere is that more visible than in this city of perversion and sin,” he began, his voice low and reverent.

“But fear not, the Light always guides those it chooses, though rarely so…vividly.” His eyes lingered on me, and it felt more perverse than anything I’d ever experienced at the club.

I cast a nervous glance at Cy, who reached over and covered my hand with his, tracing slow, reassuring circles with his thumb. He was playing the doting husband to perfection, but the slight tension in his jaw almost gave him away.

“We believe so,” Cy said smoothly. “My wife—she’s…well, she’s special.” I saw a small spark in his eyes at that, but no—it must’ve been the lights.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t feel special. Most of the time, it’s…overwhelming. Like it’s too much for me to handle.”

Brother Lucas leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with what he probably thought was compassion, but I saw it for what it truly was: predatory.

“And yet, the Light has chosen you. Do you know what a gift that is, my dear? To be blessed with such a rare power? It is a sign of divine purpose.”

“I don’t always feel like it’s a blessing. Sometimes it feels like a curse.”

“That is the struggle of the chosen,” Brother Lucas replied, his tone dripping with faux sympathy. “The Light rarely reveals its plans all at once. It tests us, shapes us, until we are ready to fulfill its will.”

Cy squeezed my hand, his thumb pressing just a little harder—a subtle warning. “That’s why we came,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We were told the Church could help. That you could…guide her.”

Brother Lucas shifted his gaze to Cy, his expression momentarily unreadable. “We guide all who seek the Light, of course. But those who are chosen…they require special attention. Their journey is not like others’. Tell me, Sister, how do you truly feel about your gift?”

I hesitated, letting the silence stretch long enough to seem genuine. “I…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Sometimes I feel like it’s not mine. Like it belongs to something bigger than me. Like I’m just a vessel.”

Brother Lucas’ smile widened, and I knew I’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. “A vessel for the Light,” he murmured. “Yes, that is precisely what you are. You are not here by chance, my dear. The Light has brought you to us, so that you may become who you are meant to be.”

Cy shifted in his chair. “And how exactly does the Church help with that?” he asked. Always so impatient. I squeezed his hand back to say, Slow down.

Brother Lucas’ smile didn’t falter, but a flicker of annoyance flashed in his eyes. “The Church provides guidance, support, and…discipline. The chosen must be nurtured, of course, but they must also be tested. Only through trials can one truly understand the Light’s will.”

I let out a shaky breath, pretending to be overwhelmed. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I’ve never been tested before.”

“That is the nature of doubt,” Brother Lucas said, his voice softening.

“But doubt is merely the shadow cast by the Light.” This fucking guy.

It took all my will not to roll my eyes.

“Embrace your gift, Sister. You were meant for more than this world’s petty struggles. You were meant to transcend them.”

I lowered my gaze, feigning vulnerability. “I just want to understand. To stop feeling like I’m fighting it all the time.”

“And you will,” he replied. “The Church will see to that.”

Cy cleared his throat, drawing the priest’s attention. “That’s all very inspiring, but my wife’s health is my priority. She’s been…struggling with this for a while now. She needs rest, not trials.”

“Of course. We would never endanger one of the chosen. But rest assured, she is in the right place. The Light will guide her, as it guides us all.”

Brother Lucas rose from his seat. It was no mistake that he positioned himself between Cy and me. His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a chill crawling down my spine.

“You don’t need to fear your power,” he said, his voice low and reverent. “Fear is a shackle. Your Flux, Sister, is divine providence. It marks you as chosen—a vessel for the will of the Light.”

I bit my lip, hoping I looked sufficiently nervous. A vessel . He’d thrown my words back at me, and they sounded like a trap disguised as a prayer. The same term that Renard had used.

I tried to look at Cy, to gage his reaction, but Brother Lucas moved to block my view.

“Do not succumb to the fear, Sister.” He reached out slowly, like testing the boundaries of a cornered animal. His fingers brushed my arm, then slid down to my wrist. “You shouldn’t carry this burden alone. Let the Light guide you. Let me guide you.”

My hand curled into a fist. I was seconds away from breaking his fingers, but I took a breath and steadied myself. Then, I leaned into it. It was no different from the other roles I’d played.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I mumbled. Not a lie.

Brother Lucas’ fingers tightened slightly around my wrist, and I suppressed a wince. He smiled—a sanctimonious curl of his lips that made bile rise in my throat. “You don’t need to be afraid of your power. Or of me.”

His other hand lifted, as if to touch my face, and I braced myself for the unwelcome contact. In the corner of my eye, I saw Cy stand. He grabbed Brother Lucas’ wrist and yanked him backward with enough force to make him stumble, the serene mask on his face cracking into startled anger.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

Cy kept his eyes on the priest. “Get your hands off my wife,” he said flatly, his voice colder than the room’s artificially controlled air.

Brother Lucas straightened, barely hiding his disdain. “You misunderstand our ways, Brother. We seek only to—”

He didn’t get to finish. Cy’s fist connected with his jaw before he saw it coming, the impact sending him sprawling into his chair with a grunt. He slumped, dazed but conscious.

“What the fuck! This wasn’t the plan?” I stood up as Cy loomed over the man. Brother Lucas tried to swipe weakly at him.

Cy batted his hands aside and grabbed the man by the neck. “Plans change, doll.” Brother Lucas’ body convulsed as Cy electrocuted him, knocking him out cold.

“We don’t have time for the whole initiation runaround, and we weren’t getting anywhere.”

I could still feel the phantom pressure of the priest’s hand around my wrist. I rubbed at it absentmindedly. “That’s the reason?”

He grinned up at me. “Should there be another?” The room’s neon lights glinted off a metallic surface as Cy pulled something from his jacket. A short blade that looked like a mini sword. He flicked a switch, and a serrated blade popped out of the pommel.

“What are you doing? How the hell are we going to sneak around without—”

He answered by grabbing the priest’s arm and sawing at the wrist with the blade.

I covered my mouth as blood spurted, quickly followed by the nauseating stench of burning flesh as he cauterized the wound with his Flux.

Two more solid strokes—the awful crunch of bone making my stomach flip—and the priest’s hand hit the floor with a wet thud .

Cy bent down and scooped it up like he’d dropped his wallet, then spun back to me.

Our gaze met over the hands still clamped to my face.

“What? DITA told us full palm biometrics, right?” He waved the hand nonchalantly. “Full palm.”

I couldn’t speak. My brain was doing a very accurate facsimile of the loading logo on a terminal screen. I finally got my legs to stop shaking. “You idiot! When they find him, we’re done.”

“Well, we better hurry then.” He slapped the hand against a panel next to the door at the rear of the room, and it popped open. He gave me that stupid grin and bowed, gesturing with the hand like a butler in a manor.

“My lady, if you would.”

I could’ve screamed, but I held it in. As I walked past, I heard him mumble, “Besides, a priest should know not to put his hands on another man’s wife.”