Arelia ran through the halls. She flinched away from all the white-suited men she saw, but none of them paid her any mind. Do they not know? Arelia wondered, and then her face contorted. Or does Father not care?

At knee-height, a pinkish smudge caught her eye as she ran past. A hint of a smile crinkled her face. I was so much smaller, then. That was as high as she could reach. Her father had been ignoring her again, too busy with his adult friends, so in frustration, she’d scrawled flowers on the wall. When he’d come back to see his immaculate tower scribbled on, his face had turned so red she’d thought steam was about to burst out of his ears. She’d stared back, resolute, hands on her hips.

Her mother picked her up and held her close. “Relya, apologize, okay?”

“A mere apology isn’t going to—”

A warm smile. Gentle hands cradling her. “We’ll get some paint and cover it up. You’ll never know it happened.”

The memory faded, and her smile drooped as well. Mother took me to harness my hand that afternoon. And then she…

Twisted metal. Shattered glass. Blood dripping down a pale arm.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. It happened a long time ago. I’m over it.

At the end of the hallway, she peeked around the corner. A pair of bulky men stood on either side of the doors to her father’s office. Arelia took a deep breath and ducked back around the corner. They’re going to see me, no matter what. Do I take the chance that Father hasn’t told anyone? Do I have another option?

One of the men put a finger to his ear. He tipped his head, then turned and stared directly at her hiding spot. “Arelia? Boss is waiting for you.”

Startled, Arelia jumped in place. She glanced around, then looked up. A new camera stared back at her. Its soulless black lens sparkled faintly. She blushed and looked down. Her father could see. He’d seen everything.

“Arelia? I’m going to count to three,” the man started.

She stepped out from behind the corner, shoulders squared, expression resolute. There was no need to hide if he knew she was here. It doesn’t matter. I was going to talk to him anyways. Imperiously, to hide the nervousness in her heart, she declared, “Open the door.”

The bodyguards exchanged a glance. The one who’d spoken obeyed, and she walked into her father’s office.

It was the same cold, sterile place it had always been. A white desk dominated the center, surface bare save for a tablet meticulously placed in the desk’s center. A plush, high-backed white leather chair stood behind it, empty as ever. White carpet, so bright it dazzled in the sunlight.

And her father, silhouetted against the rising sun, eyes narrowed as he gazed down on the chaos of the world below.

A burst of color broke the monotony, and she turned, startled, to find a green-haired boy in strange harness leaning against the wall, too-long arms crossed. When Three noticed her glance his way, he grinned and squinched one eye in an approximation on a wink, though his lensed-over eyes could never close.

“Arelia.”

She snapped to face ahead. “Father.”

He turned, slightly. Cast in shadow, the half his face pointed her way was unreadable, nearly sinister. Reflected in the window, the lit half of his face remained impassive. She kept her eyes on his reflection. Familiar nervousness welled up from the pit of her stomach. Arelia resisted the urge to squirm, but put her hands behind her so he couldn’t see the way they twined together.

Desperate to say her part, she spoke first. “Father, I—”

“Have come back, after those people abandoned you?”

She shook her head. “No, I… I know you don’t know them, but they have lives, they have families and hopes and dreams. If you went down with me, met them, if we could talk this out—”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Are you still on about this?” Laredo asked. His tone was cold, flat.

“Isn’t there somewhere else? Does it have to be the Block?” Arelia pleaded.

Laredo turned back to the window. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t. So explain it!”

“They don’t care about you. You’re only a hostage to them. A bargaining chip.”

Arelia shook her head. “You haven’t seen them. They aren’t like that! Not at all!”

Laredo strode to the desk and tapped the tablet. It lit up, showing a dark, grainy scene. Two woemn stood opposite each other, one fiddling with a cloth, the other gazing at something distant, off the screen.

Arelia squinted. Is that…?

Faintly, conversation faded in, bursting with interference and static. She leaned in to hear it better.

“…she’d make a good hostage… why I’ve let her stay… she’s a kid… a confused kid.”

The camera began to zoom, but abruptly, scrap fell across it. June and Tooly turned. Tooly’s eyes flashed in the camera, and the video cut off.

They… that’s all they thought of me? Arelia shuddered. Her chest tightened. Something prickled in her eyes and nose. Tears welled up, and she couldn’t hold them back. They rolled down her cheeks, hot and fat. That’s all I was to them?

Laredo moved back to the window casually, tucking his hands behind his back. “They don’t deserve your sympathy.”

She closed her eyes. When they opened, they glimmered with ferocity. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever they think about me, it doesn’t matter. They still deserve to live where they want, how they want. You don’t have the right to kick them out of their homes!”

A scoff. Laredo traced his fingers over the scenery, circling the distant fire. “I don’t have the right? Who does, then?”

“No one!”

“Wrong.” Laredo cut her off. “The Asteri can reshape this world to their will.” His eyes turned to the High City, sparkling skyscrapers and dazzling buildings, then beyond. Distantly, the ruins of what had once been a magnificent city crumbled into the wildlands.

“You’re an Asteri, now?” Arelia asked mockingly.

Behind her, Three chuckled darkly. Father and daughter glared at him. He raised a hand and mimed zipping his lips shut, but smirked to himself, laughing at a joke no one else knew.

“The Asteri. The government, as well. And both have abandoned this place. Look. Do you see police cars? Military hovercraft? Asteri, descending from Synnefo City?”

Arelia stared, stuck dumb. I didn’t notice. He’s right. They should be here. The military, the police, but… Far below, the black mech pinned the construction mech and stabbed it, over and over. Chaos, fire, gunblasts and bullet sparks. Neon-lit cars. Harsh construction headlights. No mechs rushed to intercept the battle. No sirens colored the scene.

“No one wants the Block but me. Thus, I am the government, the Asteri. I am the Block’s god. No one has the right?” Laredo laughed. He gestured at the battle, at the government, cloistered in its capital in the High City, at the Asteri, sleeping in Synnefo City high above. “I have the right. The world has given it to me.”

Arelia slammed her fist on the desk. “It hasn’t! You don’t have the right, the government doesn’t have the right, the Asteri don’t have it, either! The people who live there, who spend their whole lives in the Block—they’re the only ones who have the right!”

“A child who hasn’t heard of eminent domain is not qualified to argue back,” Laredo replied quietly, his tone low but dangerous.

“I don’t have to agree just because something’s happened before!” Arelia snapped.

Laredo’s face twitched with disgust, the first emotion he’d shown since she’d arrived. “Take this thing out of here.”

Three stepped forward.

Arelia fled, instinctively, but didn’t know which way to go. Her father stood by the window, Three by the doors. If she left, anyways, didn’t that mean she lost? She danced away instead, staying away from both Laredo and Three. “Throwing me out because you can’t argue back? So mature.”

Laredo scowled fiercely. Hatred poured from his eyes like Arelia had never seen before, such a pure emotion that she staggered back, surprised. Snarling, he bared his teeth. “When I had your mother killed, I should have killed you, too.”

Arelia stared. Eyes wide as dinnerplates, her lips traced a question, but she couldn’t find her voice. The crash replayed in her head. Motion, whirling. Crumpled metal. Stillness. Blood. Her mother, lying there, eyes closed—

Her mother opened her eyes. Her lips moved, half a smile. She reached out, and their hands met. “I’ll get you out of here.”

Leather boots. White pants. Her mother turned, craning her neck. “Help!”

A gunshot.

Her mother’s eyes closed.

How could I forget? But that was easy. She spent so long trying not to think about it. Refusing to talk about it, to acknowledge it, until it was buried so deep it hadn’t happened at all.

He whirled on her. His hair was still perfect, his suit still impeccable, but the man who turned to her was demented, a madman, a stranger. Ragged, his voice grated on her ears. “She ruined you. Of course I killed her. What if she had gone further? Replaced your arm? And you—I should have thrown you away. You’re trash. Tainted. Filthy. I can barely breathe with you in the same room. You disgust me. How could I hand the Group to you? I might as well destroy it.”

“You—” Arelia didn’t know what to say. What do I want to say? What can I say? She clenched her hand to her chest, so tight the flightsuit dented around her fingers. All because of my hand. All because—

Laredo’s chest heaved. He reached into his jacket and drew out a gun, pitch black against blazing white. “It’s not too late,” he muttered to himself. “I can still fix it.”

“Father!” Arelia screamed, uselessly. This man wasn’t her father. He hadn’t been, not for a long time.

He pointed the gun. Arelia tensed, preparing for something, though she didn’t know what.

An explosion. Arelia stumbled. She squeezed her eyes shut.