The safehouse was little more than a crumbling tenement buried deep within the slums of Nova Helix. Its walls, streaked with grime and patched with mismatched scrap, barely kept the damp air at bay. The single, flickering overhead light cast long shadows across the room, illuminating a battered table and two mismatched chairs. A rat scurried along the cracked floor before disappearing into the corner, where the walls sagged inward.
Elior sat on one of the chairs, his emerald eyes fixed on the doorway. His fingers traced the edge of the table, feeling every dent and splinter as he wrestled with exhaustion. The events of the past few days had drained him physically and mentally, and the Echoes still lingered at the edges of his thoughts, their fragmented cries haunting him.
The door creaked open. Vera slipped inside, shutting it quickly behind her. Her sharp features were pinched with irritation, and her cybernetic implants glinted faintly in the dim light. She shot Elior a glare before pulling a small device from her jacket and scanning the room for surveillance bugs.
“You’ve got the enforcers crawling all over this sector,” she hissed, her voice low but charged with frustration. “You’re a walking magnet for trouble.”
Elior remained silent, his gaze steady. Vera’s lips tightened as she shoved the scanner back into her pocket and leaned against the wall, folding her arms.
“Alright, talk,” she demanded. “What are you? And don’t give me any vague crap. I saw what you did back there with those… things.”
Elior took a slow breath, trying to gather his thoughts. How could he explain necromancy—a practice born of his world’s arcane energies—to someone whose reality was defined by circuits and digital interfaces?
“I’m not from here,” he began carefully. “My… abilities come from another world, a place where magic exists.”
Vera raised an eyebrow. “Magic? That’s your story? You expect me to believe you’re some kind of wizard?”
“Necromancer,” Elior corrected, his tone even. “I work with the dead. Or, at least, I used to. Here, it’s different. The energy feels fragmented, corrupted. The Echoes—those ‘things’ you saw—they’re not spirits in the way I’m used to. They’re pieces of people, trapped in your System.”
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Vera’s skeptical expression faltered for a moment. She looked away, her jaw tightening. “And you can… control them?”
“Not control,” Elior said quickly. “I can summon them, maybe guide them, but their pain… it’s overwhelming. They’re suffering, and I don’t fully understand why.”
Vera paced the room, her boots clicking softly against the floor. She was silent for a long moment before stopping and facing him again.
“If what you’re saying is true, then the corporations have been lying to us on a massive scale,” she said, her voice low but urgent. “The System is supposed to manage data, maintain order, keep things running. But if it’s using people…” She trailed off, her fists clenching. “Damn it. This could be huge.”
Elior studied her, noting the shift in her demeanor. Beneath her guarded exterior, he saw a flicker of something else—hope, maybe even determination.
“I can’t do this alone,” he admitted. “I don’t understand your world, your rules. If you help me, I can show you more of what I’ve seen. Together, we might find a way to stop this.”
Vera hesitated, her eyes narrowing. “And what happens when I stop being useful to you? What’s to stop you from… turning those Echoes on me?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Elior said, his voice firm. “I didn’t choose this. I just want to survive and maybe make things right.”
She studied him for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “Fine. We’ll try this… alliance. But if you cross me, I’ll make you regret it.”
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Over the next few hours, Vera introduced Elior to the basics of survival in Nova Helix. She showed him how to navigate the labyrinthine streets, pointing out the symbols and markers left by others in the slums: warnings of enforcer patrols, directions to safe zones, and signs of hidden resources. She explained the hierarchy of the megacity, from the gleaming corporate spires at its center to the shadowy depths of the Undermarket.
“Stick to the shadows,” she advised as they moved through a narrow alley, its walls covered in pulsating neon graffiti. “Blend in when you can, but don’t stay in one place too long. The enforcers have drones everywhere.”
Elior nodded, absorbing her words. His confusion and vulnerability seemed to soften her demeanor, and she occasionally glanced back at him with a mix of pity and curiosity.
“You’re like a lost puppy,” she said at one point, smirking despite herself.
“I’ve never seen a city like this,” Elior admitted. “In my world, we have castles, villages, forests. This place feels alive, but it’s… suffocating.”
Vera chuckled dryly. “Welcome to Nova Helix. It eats you alive if you’re not careful.”
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By the time they returned to the safehouse, Elior’s head was spinning with information. Vera tossed him a thin blanket and a packet of nutrient bars before collapsing onto the creaking cot in the corner.
“Get some rest,” she said. “We’ve got a long road ahead.”
Elior settled onto the floor, the hard surface a stark contrast to the simple comforts of his past life. As he stared at the flickering light overhead, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this alliance was as fragile as the city itself.