Dragan and his new companion charged through the door, running into some kind of locker room. There wasn't yet time to catch their breath, though -- Dragan instantly whirled around and pushed one of the lockers onto its side, creating a rudimentary barricade against the door. Hopefully that would prevent this Roash character from forcing it open --

-- it was a sliding door. Shit.

"Hey, you," Dragan said urgently, turning to the black-haired girl he'd dragged along with him. "What's your name?"

"Rose," the girl panted, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. "My name's… I'm Rose."

"You have access to these systems?" Dragan jabbed a finger towards the door. He could tell she was an Underman, but he didn't know what kind of access she had. Nervous sweat ran down the back of his neck.

Rose nodded. Dragan could have cheered -- at last, he had something to work with.

"We need that door locked," he explained, punctuating the point with another jab of his finger towards the entrance -- and before she could open her mouth, he continued: "Before you ask why, I'll tell you -- there's a Supremacy soldier chasing us, and if he gets in here he'll kill us both. He's already killed one of the people who was with me, so this isn't a joke. You understand?"

He had to get the point across as quickly and thoroughly as he could. Politeness was a virtue and all, but to tell the truth he didn't much care about social niceties when it came to saving both their lives.

Rose's face hardened, her mouth a straight line of tension. "He… killed one of your people?"

Dragan hesitated a moment -- he'd known Lucia for about an hour at most, but it felt disrespectful just to dismiss her. "Sort of," he admitted. "One of the impound technicians, Lucia Yet. He shot her in the back -- and he'll do the same to us if we give him the chance."

Rose sighed, tension leaving her body as carbon dioxide, hands rising up to massage her temples as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I…" she muttered. "I-I don't…"

"Lock the fucking door."

"Right, right," she pulled her script out of her pocket and tapped a few buttons -- instantly, the faint green light above the entrance turned a deep red. "It's locked -- nobody can get in that way until that's countermanded."

Dragan finally let out his own sigh of relief, collapsing against the wall and slumping down into a sitting position. They still weren't safe -- he had no doubt Roash could burn through that door with his enhanced plasma -- but they'd created an effective security blanket if nothing else.

The Underman -- Rose, she'd said -- cocked her head at the prone Dragan. "Hey," she said slowly. "I know you!"

"No you don't," Dragan replied automatically. He really hoped not. Most of his recent problems in life had come from people recognizing him.

"I do!" Rose nodded. "You're Dragan Hadrien -- you were supposed to be with Skipper and Ruth Blaine! I was meant to take you guys on a tour. Bruno and Serena too."

This didn't seem like the best time to complain about missed tours. "That so?" Dragan forced the dull words out.

"And then Skipper and Ruth ran off, and I tried to chase after them -- only I'm not so fast, and they jumped out a window, and by the time I got down there they'd already gone somewhere else, so--"

"Rose," Dragan spoke up, forcibly bringing the rambling girl's train of thought to a halt. The tiniest glimmer of hope was becoming visible. "You were with Skipper and Ruth when the attack started?"

She nodded mutely.

Dragan picked himself up slightly -- still leaning against the wall, but standing on his own two feet, cutting a slightly less pathetic figure. "This is important," he said clearly, a relieved smile on his lips, fixing his eyes on hers. "Did they say where they were going?"

If he could somehow meet up with them, he got the feeling that this opponent chasing him wouldn't be nearly as much of a threat. To a novice like him, this obstacle was insurmountable, but Skipper was the kind of man who could clear such hurdles with ease -- not that Dragan would ever say it out loud.

Rose thought for a moment, tapping her finger against her temple, before sticking it up into the air as she eagerly replied: "They said they were going looking for you!"

The smile froze on Dragan's face. Slowly, as if dreading the answer, he clarified: "And this was… nearly an hour ago?"

She nodded.

"It was nearly an hour ago… when they said this? When they -- when they said that to you?" Dragan repeated. Maybe, just maybe, if he asked with the right combination of words, the answer would be different, and they wouldn't be in such a shitty situation after all.

"Yes," Rose said. "Definitely. Right after the attack started."

"I see," Dragan chuckled humourlessly, the smile still stuck on his mouth. Then, he turned and struck the locker next to him -- once, twice, thrice -- leaving dents sparking with blue Aether.

Rose squeaked, hugging her script to her chest. "Should you be so loud?" she whispered, eyes flicking around the room. "If there's someone looking for us, I mean."

Dragan's reply was muffled, his face in his hands. "Probably not," he said. "But we're kind of fucked, you see. A Supremacy maniac with a fighter-grade rifle will be here any minute."

"Maybe he won't notice us?" Rose smiled weakly. "Pass us by?"

"There's a big red light over the door telling him which room we're in."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

How had things gotten like this? The objective had been so simple: join back up with Ruth and Skipper and then just leave -- but somehow, somehow, they'd ended up more split up than they were originally. Y only knew where the hell Bruno and Serena had gone. Dragan was pretty sure the way he'd run had taken him further away from what few comrades he had.

It was just him, then -- him and this girl he'd known for single-digit minutes. Nobody else to rely on.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Dragan swallowed, forcing down the anxiety that threatened to stall his decision making. He had no time to whine about the situation he'd gotten himself into. He was in it now -- the only thing to do was find a way out.

The only one who decides what happens to me is me.

He stepped fully away from the wall, letting out a deep breath as Aether began to crackle around him. His eyes flicked up to look at Rose.

"I have a plan," Dragan lied -- he hadn't actually come up with the plan yet. He had one powerful shot stored up, two pistols, a meat shield and a dream.

Not everything he needed, but he knew it was everything he was going to get.

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"H-He's in the locker room, with the other person," Niles whispered over the communicator -- as if she'd be overheard by her prey if she spoke too loudly. "They're both n-near the door, so if you blow it up you'll probably get them."

"There any escape routes?" Roash's gruff voice came through loud and clear.

Niles shook her head, forgetting for a moment her partner couldn't see that over the audio link. "N-No, I don't think so -- well, definitely not. That room goes through to a training zone, but there's no exits there."

"Training zone? What kinda thing we talkin' here? Little gymnasium or what?"

Again, Niles shook her head. "Um, n-no. It's a kind of holographic t-training suite, we have them back home too. It p-projects different environments, like jungles or u-urban centres, so t-they can train for different s-scenarios."

She could have punched herself. What the hell was she doing? Could she not even explain how a room worked without sounding like a frightened mouse? Roash wouldn't see her as an ally unless he respected her -- who would respect someone like this?

For what it was worth, Roash didn't seem to mind. He was too busy with his patriotic fervour. "Ha!" he scoffed. "Plastic trainin' for plastic troops. Wouldn't expect anythin' more."

Like I said, we have them back home too.

Suddenly, she jerked up, watching through countless walls as the blue shade began moving, rushing towards the training arena. "H-He's on the move," she said hurriedly. "H-Heading towards the training suite. I-I don't know if he has a plan or w-w-what, but he's m-moving with purpose."

"On my way," Roash said, bloodlust audible in his voice. "How 'bout the other person you mentioned? They still with him?"

"L-Like I said, they're h-hard to see, so I don't know."

"Guess I'll find out the hard way." The energised thunk of Roash's rifle being reloaded was audible over the communicator -- Niles winced at the unexpected loud noise. "I'm here. I'm goin' in."

If the thunk was unwelcome, the explosion that followed was even more so -- the door to the locker room being eviscerated with just a couple of seconds of sustained fire. Niles winced at the deafening audio, groaning as she turned the sound on her communicator down slightly. "I-I'd appreciate a warning in the f-future," she said, with all the nerve she could muster.

"Sorry, Niles," Roash sounded genuinely apologetic. "Element of surprise is what gives a fella victory, though. If I go warnin' you, I might go warnin' them. Can't do it."

Niles sighed, nodding. "O-Okay. Hadrien's still in the t-training suite. Top left c-corner. Think he might be h-hiding."

"I'd expect nothin' more, Niles. Locker room's clear -- I'm goin' in. I'll keep the line open if I need you to keep tracking him. Wish me luck."

The communicator clicked off, without time for Niles to even reply. She honestly wasn't sure if that was an intentional snub or just a case of Roash not thinking things through.

Still -- she had her ways to listen in. She pulled up another program on her script, the one tied to the tracker she'd planted on Roash. Through it, she could hear the tinny sound of rushing air -- the elevation platform moving through the hallway connecting the locker room and the training suite. Just under that, Roash's steady breathing was audible.

Another explosion sounded off -- this one distorted, the tracker's feeble microphone unable to properly record it -- as the door to the suite was blasted open.

Niles bit her lip. This was it.

----------------------------------------

This false jungle the UAP had created was convincing, if nothing else, Roash thought as he entered the room.

The trees around him stretched up to fill a sky that did not exist, and thick heavy fog swirled around the ground -- like smoke from a battle that had not yet happened. In the distance, he could hear birds tweeting, the ravenous growling of an unseen predator.

But none of it rang true. There was no heat, no stench, no physicality to this place. The only thing a facade like this could fool was the eyes -- and Roash had access to eyes far superior to his own.

Slowly, carefully, Roash proceeded into the room, his platform hovering steadily over the ground as he pointed his rifle in front of him. Aether-user or no, he was certain a well-aimed barrage of his enhanced plasmashot would take Hadrien down. It had never failed in the past.

He licked his lips, doing his best to calm his muted nerves. He'd embarked on missions like this many times before, but the exhilaration of it never went away. The knowledge that you were about to prove your worth, objectively, for all to see.

That was what the UAP didn't understand -- conflict was not a means to an end, it was an end in and of itself. The eternal crucible in which only the strongest survived. There were no more suitable environs for living creatures. Failure to improve meant stagnation -- and what could you call stagnation but death?

Niles had said that Hadrien was concealing himself in the top-left corner of the room. Slowly, carefully, Roash adjusted the angle of his rifle to aim in that direction. It was strange to think of this place having corners -- the jungle stretched on as far as he could see -- but that was just another part of the illusion.

His aim settled on the location, a shriveled tree sticking out from a small mound -- just small enough for a curled-up human to fit inside. Hadrien must have had to get down on his hands and knees to fit in there. How appropriate.

Roash's finger curled almost tenderly around the trigger -- and he pulled it with the passion of a lover.

The instant he did, the mound sparked and fizzled -- the image becoming indistinct as Hadrien leapt out of it, narrowly avoiding the flurry of red shots as he charged straight through another huddle of trees. The scenery here truly was aesthetic only -- you could walk right through everything as if it wasn't even there.

The communicator in his ear clicked on again, Niles connecting. "H-He's run to that spot in front of you, and now he's n-not moving. He m-might want you to t-think he kept moving, but h-he hasn't."

He grunted in response. Niles was good at what she did -- he'd do his best to see right by her. She was too weak to become a Special Officer, of course, but he'd have no issue with keeping her on as an assistant or something similar. It was unfortunate, but that was probably the best she could hope for with her deficiencies.

Roash spoke up, keeping his rifle trained on Hadrien's new position. "Running away, boy?" he sneered. "You prove your weakness."

For a moment, there was silence -- save for the false sounds of animals around him. Then, surprisingly, Hadrien actually answered.

"My weakness?" he asked, the source of his voice obvious -- he really hadn't moved. "Sorry, but isn't it the other way around?"

And then -- defying all battle sense -- Hadrien strode out of the trees, bark flickering in and out of existence as he stepped through it. The young man cocked his head at Roash, as if he hadn't just sealed his doom. One of his hands was empty, and the other held a script -- controlling the holograms?

But something wasn't right. Roash adjusted his stance, just slightly. "What do you mean?" he growled. If nothing else, it wouldn't hurt to let the bastard talk.

Hadrien smiled, his face the very picture of innocence. "Well," he said, smugly dragging his words out. "I'm thinking you can't use Aether, right? Or you wouldn't be bothering with these kinds of tactics. It's just kind of refreshing fighting someone who's legitimately weaker than me, you know?"

Roash narrowed his eyes. "Y'think just cause my gun's top-grade I can't use Aether? Maybe I just like to make sure scum like you is dealt with thoroughly."

Hadrien shook his head. "Nah. If you could use Aether, you'd have just used an Aether ping to find me. You wouldn't have had to do all this messing around."

Genuine confusion struck Roash for a moment -- he furrowed his brow. "Messing around?"

"Yeah," Hadrien nodded, smirk becoming an almost manic grin as he glanced up towards the ceiling. "Messing around. Isn't that right, Niles?"

----------------------------------------

As she heard her name leave the Cogitant's lips, Niles froze in sudden terror.

Something was wrong.