Page 61

CY

S he was fuming. I could feel her Flux pulsing with anger, and honestly, I was living for it. It felt good to feel that kind of power radiating off her, like she didn’t have to hide around me.

“We still going the right way?” I asked, slapping the priest’s severed hand against another door scanner. The dull chime of access granted was almost cheerful.

“Yes, it’s…” She dry heaved, clutching her stomach. “The Echelon chapel should be behind the next set of doors.”

“Just think of it like a turkey leg at one of those street fairs.”

“I will not be doing that. You vile, violent, completely—”

“Keep up the compliments, doll. Really feeding my ego here.”

Oh, she was mad. Her face twisted, and finally— finally —she couldn’t keep her Flux under wraps. Electricity danced around her arms, lighting up the dim corridor in wild flickers of pale violet and white.

“Cy,” she hissed, her voice crackling with static. “You don’t get to joke about this.”

I turned to her, leaning casually against the wall like I didn’t still have a severed hand in my grip. “I’m not joking. You think they’d let us waltz in here with a smile and a song? Sometimes you’ve gotta get your hands dirty, Eon. That’s the job.”

She glared, arcs of electricity snapping dangerously close to my chest. For a second, I wondered if she might actually let loose—fry me right here in the hallway. I wanted her to. I wanted to see how far she’d go, what she could really do.

Instead, she exhaled sharply and pulled the Flux back into herself, like stuffing a storm into a glass jar. Lightning in a bottle, indeed.

“Just…open the damn door.”

I nodded, vaguely disappointed.

We moved down the hallway in tense silence until we came to a bend. Around the corner, two POM Security grunts stood guard outside a set of double doors.

I stuffed the hand into my inside jacket pocket and pulled out my short-bladed tanto.

“What are you doing?” Eon hissed.

“My job. They have shields. I can’t shoot them.”

“But you’re going to kill them? Just for being in our way?”

“Yes.” I’d never had to explain this to someone before. Everyone in my world understood the necessity of violence. But not her. She’d been a victim of it time and time again, yet she still didn’t understand that peace was never an option—not in a world like ours.

“Can’t you…I don’t know, shock them or something?”

I let out an annoyed hiss. “If I could, I would. These are trained POM assets, just like me. Doubt I’d get the jump on both of them without getting my ass stabbed. Not worth the risk.”

Eon bit her lip, glancing between the guards and me. “Just like you, huh?”

I blinked. “Well…beta assets. Not quite as good, but—”

She rolled her eyes. “Then they’ll fall for the same tricks.”

I frowned. “What?”

Eon took a slow breath, squared her shoulders, and smoothed her face into wide-eyed panic. I barely had time to step back before she rounded the corner, stumbling like a lost lamb.

“Oh, thank God! Please—you have to help me!” Her voice pitched high, trembling. I almost believed her.

The guards snapped to attention. “Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be here—”

“I know! I got turned around—I was just—” She swayed, hands shaking. The guards stepped forward, lowering their weapons just slightly—just enough.

Then I saw it. The flicker of violet light dancing across her fingers.

She stumbled into them, one hand to each chest. Before either could react, a sharp crack split the air, and the two guards seized, their bodies locking up as she sent a controlled burst of electricity straight through their systems. They dropped like stones.

I stepped forward, nudging one with the toe of my boot. Still breathing.

Eon straightened, brushing her hair back. “There. No bloodshed. Remind me why I brought you again?”

I huffed, half-annoyed, half-impressed. “Not bad, doll. Though these guys might be a little worse for wear tomorrow.”

The light that had danced around her faded, and I regretted saying it. I moved past her, pulled out the priest’s hand, and slapped it against the security panel.

The final lock beeped, and the reinforced doors slid open with a whisper. I was relieved to see curtains just beyond, likely sound-damping. That gave us the perfect cover. I pulled Eon next to me, and we slid between the wall and the drapery until we found an opening.

Inside, the Echelon chapel was bathed in that same cold, blue Stellarium light.

Rows of pews stretched out in perfect symmetry, leading up to an altar raised on a dais.

At its center stood a tall, crystalline structure—a spire of pure Stellarium, glowing faintly with an inner light.

A raw crystal of that size could’ve powered a whole city block, easily.

The air was thick, humming with an energy that made my skin crawl.

In the center of the dais, a girl stood at the base of the altar, her head bowed.

She couldn’t have been more than seventeen, dressed in a white robe that shimmered faintly under the Stellarium’s glow.

Behind her, a sea of Brothers and Sisters in their neon halos and white veils stood stiller than statues.

From their mouths, a revert hymn more disturbing than the hum of the Stellarium.

A figure in dark robes stood beside her, holding a blade that glinted ominously in the light. The metallic edge looked like it was infused with Stellarium, but I’d never seen Stellarium glow a deep, blood red like that before.

“I don’t like this…I don’t like any of this,” Eon whispered, shaking.

I wrapped my free arm around her shoulders. “Remember, we’re here for intel and that’s it. No interfering.”

She bit her lip but nodded. Then the priest’s deep voice resonated through the space.

“Tonight, you ascend, Sister Celia. Tonight, you become one with the Light.”

The priest gestured for the girl to kneel, and she did so without hesitation, her head remaining bowed.

The knife flashed crimson, a violent contrast to the cold blue light of the room as he held it aloft over her head.

I swore I saw glyphs shimmer across its surface before they blinked out of existence.

Eon gasped beside me, louder than she should’ve. I moved fast, clamping my hand over her mouth.

“Quiet,” I whispered harshly, my breath hot against her ear.

Her eyes shot daggers at me, her Flux sparking faintly against my hand, but she didn’t fight. Not completely. I eased my grip just enough to let her breathe but kept my fingers hovering near her lips.

“Tonight, you cleanse your body of the impurities that bind you to this earthly form,” he intoned, raising the blade higher. “Tonight, you shed your fleshly chains and embrace the divine.”

The girl tilted her head, exposing the back of her neck.

Eon stiffened, her body trembling beneath my arm. Her muffled protest was sharp, and I pressed harder, leaning in close. “Don’t,” I hissed. “We’re not here to save anyone. Stick to the mission. We won’t get rescued a second time.”

Her eyes burned into mine, wild with fury and desperation. She was too soft for this. Way too fucking soft.

I pressed my hand tighter to her mouth, feeling the sparks of her Flux start to jump against my skin. Her glare was scalding, but I didn’t let her go.

The blade came down in a swift, precise motion, slicing into the girl’s neck just below the base of her skull.

Blood welled up instantly, but the priest’s hands moved with practiced precision.

The girl let out a soft groan but held her position.

A few more flips of the knife, and the priest’s hand came away holding a tiny chrome Flux chip.

He raised it above his head triumphantly as the crowd began murmuring a wordless hymn, the sound building until the space vibrated with it. The knife was no longer glowing.

Two sisters stepped forward as the girl nearly toppled, but in their grasp she rose to stand. Blood dripped down her neck, but she only looked dazed.

“How do you feel, Sister?” The priest cupped her face gently.

“Free, Father.” Her smile was lopsided, feral. I looked at Eon, and she stared back at me with wide eyes, neither of us believing what we saw. Removing your Flux chip was a death sentence. Everyone knew that.

The chapel filled with a bright, blinding light as the girl gasped, her body convulsing.

At first, it looked like she was ascending—her body levitating slightly off the ground as arcs of blood-red energy coursed through her veins.

She glowed, her eyes snapping open to reveal irises flooded with pure, radiant light.

The congregation erupted into cheers, their voices a cacophony of praise and reverence.

“Behold,” the priest declared, holding the knife aloft like a trophy. Its unnerving red glow now pulsed like a heartbeat. “The Light is within her! The vessel has been claimed by an angel who—”

But then, something changed.

The red glow in the girl’s veins began to splinter, jagged cracks spreading across her skin like a spiderweb. Her breaths turned ragged, her body trembling violently.

“No,” she choked out, her voice distorted and unnatural. “No, this…this isn’t…”

Her body twisted unnaturally, limbs jerking at odd angles as the cracks deepened. Deep red light spilled from the fissures in her skin, growing brighter and brighter until it was blinding.

Then, with a deafening snap , her body tore itself apart.

Shards of flesh and bone rained down in a grotesque shower, the light imploding in on itself before extinguishing completely. The chapel fell silent, the congregation frozen in stunned horror.

“She was not pure enough. It is the will of the Light.” The priest lowered his head, then walked out of the chapel.

Eon clapped a hand over my wrist, pulling my hand from her mouth. She was shaking, her breaths shallow.

“Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why did she…they need to…”

“They’re not going to do anything,” I said, harsher than I meant to. “You saw what happened. She was just a pawn to them.”

Eon shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. “This isn’t—this can’t—”

“Focus,” I snapped, grabbing her shoulders to steady her. “You can fall apart later. Right now, we move.”

She swallowed hard, nodding once, though her entire body was still trembling.

Together, we slipped out of the chapel, leaving behind the broken pieces of a girl who thought she was destined for something greater.

She’d learned the hard way that people like us don’t get to ascend, no matter how much the higher-ups want you to believe you could.

That world wasn’t built for us, and she’d paid for that truth with her life.

Eon was still shaking in my arms. “Still feel bad for that yarou now?” I asked, tossing the severed hand aside as we exited through the back of the building.

She leaned over and heaved, the splash of vomit hitting the ground as she coughed in the dark alley behind the Church. I reached over, gently pulling her hair back as she heaved again.

“Nothing you could’ve done. Best to let it all out and move on.”

She rose to standing, her violet eyes locked on mine as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “How can you stand it?”

“See it every day. This whole city is built on death—its very foundation laid on the lives they deemed expendable just to raise the creds to build it. You get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it.” I saw the power in her gaze again, but this time, it only made me sad.

She really was too soft for this. Guess she wouldn’t make a good asset after all.

And somehow, that thought was comforting.

I wanted her sharp edges, but I didn’t want her to break.

I didn’t want her to lose that hopeful heart she tried so hard to hide.

“That girl…her death was no different than anyone else’s.”

“Actually,” she said, her voice low and steady, “it was exactly like someone else’s.”

The power in her eyes swirled, an endless galaxy of light, and I lost myself in it. I was so deep, I almost forgot to mourn that our time was running out.