The sky above Integrity City was tinted a dirty blue, as it was usual during sunset. In the apartment that was now hers, Sarah Wenders was treating the burns that ran up and down her left forearm.

Standing over her sink, her face held a terrible grimace, before she stuck the offending limb under the stream of cold water.

“Aaaaraagh!”

After some undignified screaming, she withdrew her arm, while her other hand, trembling from the pain, clumsily groped around for the salve which she had previously taken out of the cabinet.

Fifteen minutes and no small amount of swearing later, she plopped down on the couch with a freshly bandaged arm, and closed her eyes in exhaustion. Then, she spoke.

"If you don’t tell me what exactly you are, I’ll–"

“General combat support artificial intelligence, Master.” The device, which had previously been an amethyst pearl inlaid in a flat diamond of black-carbon steel, but was now somehow an ordinary hairband, spoke up in a tinny voice. "Model number–"

The string of digits and letters passed through the air like a pleasant breeze.

“No name?” Sarah’s eyes were still closed, wisps of her own light bronze hair falling over her eyelids.

“That is for you to decide.” 

It better not be anything stupid, then. Last time I named my character something dumb I had to suffer through fifty hours of gameplay. FIFTY! What kind of game doesn’t let you change character names?

Another part of Sarah’s mind told her no, this is real life, not some forty-dollar RPG, but she dismissed it with some contempt. After all, she wasn’t much in the mood for dealing with reality at the moment.

Something witty. Something poetic. 

Her mind travelled up and down lists of legendary weapons and warriors, of characters and figures both fictional and real.

You’re going to name your robot-buddy-slash-magic-wand. Don’t mess this up.

But try as she might, she couldn't think of anything, and eventually fell asleep on the couch, taken by the arms of exhaustion. 

~~[a]~~

I fell asleep without showering. 

Sarah woke up, dazed and confused, only cognizant of that one fact. Much as she wanted to, she refrained from swearing, even in her own mind. 

At least it wasn't on the bed. I changed the damn sheets just yesterday.

Well, perhaps a bit of swearing was fine.

“It’s nearly midnight, Master. You should go back to sleep.”

“Can’t. Won’t. And can’t.” She spoke in short bursts. 

First was a shower, where she washed herself thoroughly, ridding herself of the grime and soot that she had accumulated during her chase around the city.

Second was the laundry, in which she dumped her now-ruined school uniform, and stared at the spin cycle until it was done.

Third was dinner, which was heating up one of the frozen meals stockpiled in the fridge, just for the times when you didn’t want to get out of the house. 

Finally, with fork in hand and warm food starting to fill her belly, Sarah reread the email that had came in so suddenly this morning.

////

Dear Ms. Kara Wenders,

We regret to inform you that your next-of-kin, William Wenders, has passed in an unforeseen accident at Site Alpha-A05 at 0500 local time this morning.

We understand that

////

She tore her eyes away, the food now tasting like sand in her mouth.

If everything ever goes wrong, just find yourself a good husband and live a comfortable life. Her dad had joked with her. She remembered how he had poked her in the side, laughing as he did so at his own jokes. Would be much harder if you were a boy. Ahaha! 

Absolutely stupid. A twisted expression rose to her face as the urge to both smile and cry came at the same time. 

Well, moping wouldn't solve anything. It was what it was. 

She looked back again at the hairband–nope, it was now a necklace. Or was it a pendant? 

The thought that all this was a bad dream came to her mind, but vanished almost instantly. I know when I'm dreaming. This isn't it. Today, I received an email that my dad died, skipped school, stole a piece of technology because its voice called out to me, beat up the guys looking guarding it when they came after me, then ran home. 

She had read several books and played several games, lived the fantasies of many different protagonists, thought about how it would be if she ever got herself into some terrible situation where her daily life was destroyed. She had thought that she would be reacting with much more disbelief and indignation.

She had been wrong. 

Yeah, why am I just sitting here and accepting everything so calmly? I really thought I'd be freaking out more. 

Instead she was in a fugue state, eating dinner like normal, doing her chores like normal.

Also, I'm pretty sure I just broke the law. What the hell did I just do? What was I even thinking?

Was I even thinking at all?

"What are you?" She asked the machine once more. 

"A general supp–"

"Yeah, yeah." She sighed, then bit out her next question in frustration. "Are you the type of dumb AI that'll give the same answer if I ask the same question?" 

"It depends, Master." 

So 'no', then? Heaven's sake. "Who made you?" 

"I do not know, Master." 

"For heaven's sake." The remark was came out several tones more audibly, and  much more rudely. It was getting hard for her to maintain a semblance of politeness. "Right. Why call out to me?" 

"Because you were there at the time." 

So much bullshit. This thought Sarah kept to herself, and she took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay." Her head was beginning to hurt, both from the situation, and from being awake at an ungodly hour. "Where are you even from?"

"Martian Special Operations and Military Intelligence."

Great. There's going to be some stupid development where I get forced to do stuff by scary men in black suits, now. I'll bet my life, okay, maybe not my life–oh, you get the idea.

She tried to think, to cut through the fog of exhaustion suffusing her brain. Should I know this thing? No, don't think so. Did Dad know this thing? No, don't think so either…

Did her father ever even mention MSOMI? She grasped at the last tenuous straw, and couldn't recall anything.

"Right," she said outwardly, and stood with the clinking of utensils. She had had enough for the night. She washed up, dried the bowl and fork, and was about to head to bed when a thought struck her. "You have a camera and image recognition, right?" 

"That is correct, Master." 

There were many, many other concerns that Sarah could think of, from the fact that the device could probably hack into her…other devices, that it might have been broadcasting to some unknown person or location, et cetera, but the only thing she could do at the moment was…

Taking the the freshly washed bowl, she turned it upside down, and slid the device under it. She then filled a mug with water, and stacked it on top of the bowl. 

It certainly wasn't any real protection against anything, but it made her feel better nonetheless. 

She flopped onto the bed, turned off the lights with the remote, and tried to sleep. 

~~[a]~~

Her phone's chirping alarm sounded at dawn, or the time that corresponded to dawn, and Sarah awoke with tears in her eyes. 

Papa…

She had been having a nightmare, full of fire and depths and metal and catwalks, of her father falling down, down, down, away from her, disappearing into the darkness. But with the morning, the dreadful images faded to mere blurs that only gave her twinges of negative emotion.

I feel…terrible. Over her shirt she put a hand on her belly and rubbed it. No, not the time of the month. It's just…bad. 

She washed herself and redid her bandages, not bothering to keep her voice down as she held her arm under cold running water. You know what? Maybe I do want to beat up the guy that did this. They say personalities and powers don't correlate, but so far all the pyrokinetics I've seen were absolute assholes. 

White short-sleeved blouse. Green skirt ending just below the knees. Green ribbon at the neck. She shoved the clothes that constituted the uniform of the Integrity City University's affiliated high school on her own frame, further shoved on an additional navy-blue windbreaker jacket for warmth, and finally…

…the device had returned to being a hairband, and she put it on. It didn't hold back her fringe of dark hair, though. "Now," she said, addressing the object, though without much expectation. "I'm going to school as normal until something happens. I trust you have common sense to not draw attention to yourself. Or me."  

"Yes, Master." 

And the fact that I have no ability and just go along with everything proves that I have no personality. 

~~[a]~~

"Why do you keep calling me Master?" She murmured on her walk to school. "You some sort of tall and handsome machine butler? Can I turn off that setting?" 

"Short and of below average looks is the best I can do." For the first time, the device seemed to grumble, traces of discontent in its voice. "As for the latter, no. And as for the former, because I feel like it." 

So an AI can feel stuff too, eh? Guess they're making them more and more human every month. "What do you mean, you 'feel like it'?"

"I guess I live to serve, Master." 

And he's beginning to learn sarcasm. Great. Absolutely great. "You're sure you can't tell me anything about who made you?" 

"I can."

"That," Sarah felt her temper growing, "was not what you said last night."

"Your exact question, Master, was 'who made you?'" The device chirped in response. "And I don't know the answer to that, not with exact certainty."

Sarah dearly wanted to wrest the device from her hair and crush it to pieces with her fist. Now that I think about it, why am I even carrying this damn thing around anyway? I could have just left it at home. I could have just thrown it away. I could have just ignored it in the first place–

She clutched at her hair, and a few passers-by gave her strange looks. What was it that Dad said? "If you save someone's life, you're responsible for them?" Does that work here? Or should I just– 

"What's up with that look on your face?" Someone lightly touched the back of her neck, and she yelped and spun around, delivering a jab to her assailant. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, Haruka." Haruka Taketori (or rather, Taketori Haruka, if you were to put the Eastern name in its native order) was Sarah's closest friend, a cheerful girl with a pleasant disposition that had ended up in the same class as her twice in a row. A sky-blue scrunchie tied up her brown hair (several shades darker than Sarah's own) which lay in a ponytail draped over her shoulder. "It's just…"

"Something happened?" Haruka looked Sarah up and down, before her gaze settled on Sarah's wrist, or rather, the bandages peeking out from under her long sleeve. "Your arm!" She made to grab it, but stopped herself at the last moment. 

"Yeah." Sarah tugged up her jacket, showed her friend the bandages. "It's…"

"You got into a fight?" 

"Yeah." The reply came out mumbled. 

Haruka pursed her lips, but didn't speak words of rebuke. Instead, her gaze softened. "You skipped school yesterday, right? Are you okay? Does your father know?"

At the mention of her dad, Sarah felt a lump form in her throat once more, the present world seeming to recede into the distance. As if from far away, she saw Haruka greet some other students that had come up to her.

"Right. Something's clearly wrong," her friend said again, when they were alone once more. "Do you want to skip again today?"

"Not going to." Sarah wiped her face. "I'll be fine."

"Just…" Haruka gave her a good, long look. "Tell me if you need help, okay?"

"Yeah." Sarah said automatically, for the third time in a row. "I'm not your kid, for god's sake."

Haruka pouted. "Well, sometimes you do behave like one." 

~~[a]~~

Classes, break, more classes, lunch, some more classes. The day passed in a flash, a blur where everything melted into an incoherent, meaningless blend.

The teachers had of course approached her about her absence yesterday, and she had shown them the email, and received a warning in turn. 

She had been more or less forgiven, in other words.

Haruka had wanted to walk her home, and she had tried to shake her off for various purposes. Half because she wanted to be alone, and half because…

She's a nice person. She shouldn't get involved with me. More than she already has.

After all, she had, in the eyes of the law, stolen what seemed to be a very valuable piece of equipment, and was likely going to perform some more illegal acts, going by the nascent plan in her head.

Then again, the sunny girl had times where she could be persistent if she wanted to, and had decided now was the time. 

Maybe she knows what I'm planning to do, somehow.

Even though her ability was…

"...and I told the seller, no, I don't want red spider lilies, those are inauspicious. It's a symbol of death, and not particularly nice to have around, even if they do look good. White lilies, on the other hand, are fine and dandy."

Haruka's ability, Sarah recalled, was biopsychokineis, or BPK–the control of living tissue. However, it was, for the lack of a nicer word, weak, and it only seemed to work on plants, which made it nothing more than a sort-of bonus modifier to her gardening skill.

What a nice ability to have. Nothing too violent, sort of useful, and properly girlish too. The sarcastic thought raced across her mind, and she reproached herself for thinking it. 

Their footsteps continued to make rough noises on the concrete, and a motorised bicycle sped past the both of them. The city had wide roads, but it was mostly for the benefit of logistics: not many people owned cars, not in Integrity, and not in any martian city.

"My dad's dead, Haruka." 

The girl stopped in her tracks at Sarah's sudden pronouncement. "Oh. That explains this morning." There was barely a moment's pause before Haruka resumed walking. "Do you need help? Settling paperwork or anything?"

"Paperwork?" 

"Mmm. No good? I thought it seemed nice and practical, something that you would like." Haruka frowned. "Maybe I should stay over, cook breakfast for you every morning until you feel better?"

"What are you, a commuting wife?" Sarah rolled her eyes. "Should I ask you to kiss me goodnight as well?"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I wouldn't mind, honestly." 

The unexpectedly sincere reply caused Sarah's mouth to open a few millimetres wider, and she turned to look at her friend in surprise.

"I'm serious." The ponytailed girl would not be deterred. "I've been looking at you all day. It really looks as if you might do something stupid. Apart from already getting into a fight yesterday." 

"That's still not a good reason for you to just stay over. Your mom would get worried–"

"I think Mom would understand. She knows it's not good for people to be alone." 

Haruka's mother worked as a researcher for the University, and as such her family had lodgings within the university campus. With that said, the woman herself had been posted down south, for on-site field research at the Sea of Trees. 

The irony of which was that now Haruka herself lived alone on campus, but then again, she had a knack for making friends. Over the course of many conversations, Sarah had picked up that her friend had befriended her neighbours, the university's gardeners, a fair few of the undergraduates that had taken a course run by her mother, and three of the campus cats. 

Which often makes me wonder why she bothers with me in the first place. 

The pair of them ground to a halt–they had reached the foot of the block where Sarah's apartment was. "Fine," Haruka acquiesced, after several more rebuttals from Sarah. "I'll just wake up early to come over. But–"

"Honestly, you can be such a worrywart sometimes. I'll be fine. I can deal with it." 

There was a sigh. "I know. But still." She turned to leave. "Tomorrow morning. I'll be here. Whether you want me to or not." 

Sarah nodded, and headed for the stairs. She walked three steps before something came to mind. "Hey, Haruka." 

"Hmm?" The girl gave a twirl, facing Sarah. "What is it?"

"Thanks." 

"Don't worry about it." Haruka gave a smile. "Say, how about I–"

"Just get going already!"

~~[a]~~

Although Sarah would never admit it, her best friend's presence had cheered her up slightly, if not significantly.

Which, of course, all went down the drain when she unlocked her door to find her apartment ransacked. 

Of course something like this had to happen.

Immediately, she shed her shoes and went to the master bedroom (a fancy word for her father's bedroom and study) and checked the safe.

It had been broken open, or rather–

Sarah reached down and touched the lock. It was an old-fashioned thing, the kind where you had to spin a dial to the correct positions a few times. The exterior looked fine, but the soft rattling that usually accompanied the mechanism was absent, replaced with a dull sound when she tapped it.

Melted. 

Fire. Pyrokinesis. 

It was the conclusion her mind immediately jumped to, even though a simple blowtorch could have done the same. 

The money, which she knew the amount of, was apparently untouched. So were the simple bits of precious metal, and the few pieces of jewellery. 

The rest of her father's bedroom showed signs of being searched, but unfortunately, she was not familiar enough with the rest to know what was out of place.

She left, and walked over to her own bedroom. 

Also rummaged through, but it looks like they didn't take anything. What the hell is going on?

Absently, her feet found their way to the fridge, which she opened–

–and immediately, she slammed her fist on the nearby wall so hard it hurt. 

They drank my coffee milk! And my lime juice!

Irrationally, this simple fact was the one that enraged her the most. 

Taking the remaining bottle of coffee milk (no added sugar) out of the fridge, she broke open the seal and gulped it down, taking consolation that at least some was left. 

And then–

She was at a loss. 

She could report this to the police, but that wouldn't get immediate results. Besides, it looked like nothing had actually been stolen, which meant that the authorities would likely just write it off as a prank. 

Looking for something. Which means–

"Oi, Purple." Sarah addressed the device. "Got any clues?" 

"There are several candidates for who could have performed this break-in, yes." The device's tinny voice sounded. If she had to ascribe a tone to it, Sarah thought that it would be mild. "However, would you really believe me if I pointed my finger at any particular person or group? For all you know, I could just be manipulating you." 

"You don't have fingers." Mentally, Sarah thought that the AI made a good point, but decided not to voice her agreement. Instead, she looked around her apartment once more, this time thinking more about the why than the who. "At the time when I stole you," she began slowly, "could the security cameras on the street have been–"

"Absolutely not." The AI almost sounded cheerful. "I disabled every camera within a hundred metres. And don't worry about them tracking you from following the trail of disabled cameras, either; I randomised some branching paths to throw some interference into the mix." 

Sarah didn't question how the military intelligence AI could do so, and simply moved on. "And we weren't followed, right?"

"Not that I could detect," it replied. "I might add that I stripped myself of everything that could be used to track me, so you can discount that possibility too."

"How can you–" She recalled the events of the previous day–the fight, the conjurations, the…capabilities of the device, technology so advanced that it almost looked like magic. "Never mind."

Because, of course, magic didn't exist. Only psychic abilities–which were well-studied, and able to be placed in neat little boxes. 

And even then, she was completely not a psychic. 

"So it's less likely that they're after you, though we can't rule it out. More likely that they're after something of..my dad's." 

As she voiced her thoughts out loud, she went from room to room, tidying up. The valuables in the safe she stuffed into the bottommost drawer in her own wardrobe, the only one lockable, given that the safe itself was all but useless now.

What did dad do? He was an technician…he worked at one of the nuclear plants, but he's not some sort of secret agent…right? He wasn't involved in anything especially dangerous…right?

Because that sort of thing simply didn't happen in real life. 

Right?

She tried to stand from where she had knelt down, and found that her legs would not move. 

Oh boy.

And that tears were streaming down her face. 

No! I can't stay like this! I need to get up!

But she still could not move. With the softest of thumps, her head came to rest on the drawers in front of her. 

Some time passed, and then a song began playing. A simple, mournful tune, mainly held by the rhythmic strumming of a guitar. 

It was a song familiar to her. A song from one of the older RPGs she had played, a nostalgic tune.

"Are you…trying to cheer me up?" She choked up in disbelief.

"You are the Master, after all," the device said, matter-of-factly. "I don't–it is my duty to support you."

"I don't think that's what they had in mind when they said 'support'." The bantering cleared her mind, and she took a deep breath. Gathering strength in her legs, she stood up with a leap. "Hiyah!" 

Vague notions condensed into clear intention with the kiai shout. "I want to go to my father's workplace," she said. "I want to see where he died. Even if it's going to be useless. Even if it's not going to answer anything. I want to go." She removed her hairband, held it out in one hand, and bowed to it. "Please help me."

"Of course."

~~[a]~~

Night fell, and Sarah was riding on top of an automated transport truck, headed for Site Alpha. 

That was the official designation given to the facility, but most inhabitants of Integrity City would know it as the First Martian Power Plant, the oldest of all such facilities on the red planet. 

The plant was situated fifteen kilometres away from the city, based on old safety guidelines–which was more for peace of mind than anything, for the actual facility was located more than a hundred kilometres underground.

Sarah had changed into long, navy-blue jeans, tough brown hiking boots, and had on two shirts under a dark green jacket with a furred collar. Climate control and artificial gravity might have made Mars inhabitable and livable, but it was still much further away from the Sun than Earth.

The device had shapeshifted itself into an innocuous bracelet which now lay on her right wrist, and she laid her body flat as the truck passed through Site Alpha's outer perimeter, marked by a high wall of rough greenish-brown stone, and an inner perimeter demarcated by a chain-link fence, on top of which sat the customary barbed wire coils. 

"Are you sure nobody will check?" Sarah whispered. 

"You're semi-invisible, enough to fool any complacent human." Purple's voice came out quiet, somehow projected as if it were a person speaking to her from right above her shoulder. "And the guards here are complacent, because nobody is fool enough to attack this place."

Sarah blinked as she slid off the truck, which had stopped at a vehicle bay. "Why?"

"Think about it. The plant provides energy not just to Integrity, but to the whole planet. The energy also powers the artificial atmosphere and gravity, preventing every living human from dying a terrible death to cold vacuum."

"Oh." 

However, the AI's words were immediately proven wrong, because there was a four-note chime, followed by the sound of boots on asphalt.

Many boots.

A whole platoon of guards had been deployed. 

Of course! They'd be on high alert right after an accident. Damn it!

"Spread out and search!" A loud voice commanded. "The intruders can't have gotten far. The five of you, circle the outside. The rest of you, with me into the interior!"

From her new position under the truck, Sarah watched several boots disperse in different direction. 

Intruders? There's people here other than me?

"A convenient distraction. Stick close to their backs. They won't have the sense to look at what's right under their noses." 

"The security cameras–"

"Will be no problem. Assume they don't exist." 

The truck had stopped at a loading/unloading bay, though it seemed that nobody was going to attend to it. The bay itself opened up into a high-ceilinged warehouse-like area, which itself had a few cargo lifts in the back…

…and a security checkpoint which stood in its way. 

"Just go over it." The AI spoke in her ear. "It's not being manned at the moment." 

Call me Alice, because things are getting curious and curiouser. Sarah carefully climbed on the table, then over an x-ray machine that usually scanned the bags of visitors. She could and would have just jumped on them normally, but she didn't want to make any noise.

Plus, she was beginning to feel a strange, ominous feeling, the kind of which would incline one to make themselves as small as possible.

To shrink down and hide, hoping that what was hunting you would pass you by.

Instead of the lifts, she opted for the stairs, and, judging by the rough sounds of tromping echoing up from below, so too had the guards. 

"I don't suppose you can silence my footsteps as well?" Her voice was light as she made her way down as fast as she could, again trying to maintain stealth. 

"There are limits to what I can do in the material world, even with that fun display yesterday. With that said, look to your wrist."

A number popped up in a tiny hologram. 

0.09

"That's approximately how much radiation you're being shielded from, in microsieverts. With that said, I'll tell you when we should be bailing out anyway, so it's not that important."

Sarah nodded as she continued her way down. 

Exposure to one sievert increases your chances of developing cancer by about five percent. Who knew that what she studied in school would actually be used in real life? 

"Take this door." 

Sarah complied, and proceeded, emerging from the stairwell into a wide corridor. Thick, dingy, walls of concrete were on all sides, and pipes and various cable sheaths ran along the them, parallel to the ground, as did painted stripes, which served as directional markers of a sort. 

The lights above were flickering. 

"What do you mean, shielded?" Sarah quietly murmured, as the question caught up to her.

"By the capabilities of this device, I can protect you from harmful radiation, which you would need a clunky suit for otherwise. Think of it as a force field. Or a ward or buff." 

"Magic doesn't exist, you know?" Only psychic abilities.

"And you know what they say about sufficiently advanced technology." The AI retorted, though without rancor. "Go through here, and get to the next zone. Ah, but there's a–"

Sarah walked right into the next section of corridor, and right into a black-armoured guard, who had been blending into the half-light.

"!" 

No! As much as she regretted not paying attention, the damage had already been done–and it also seemed that the guard had no hesitation, for he immediately raised his rifle and fired.

Surprisingly quiet gunshots narrowly missed her as she frantically dodged to the side.

I need a weapon! But–

There was no time to think, and no time to even panic. Her eyes fell on a fireman's axe behind its glass right above a red hosereel cabinet, and that was what appeared in her hand.

Without hesitation, she leapt forwards, surging through the air. Both hands hafted the axe, and the blunt edge traced a purple arc in the air, before connecting solidly to the side of the armoured guard's helmet. 

Said guard collapsed on the spot, folding up like a house of cards, and Sarah herself was braced against the wall, heart pounding the most quickly it had been in recent memory.

"You can't pull that again as we go deeper. It's difficult to block bullets and radiation at the same time." A voice of warning came to her.

"I'll…keep that in mind." The back of her throat felt dry, but she would just have to deal with it. Not that she would risk drinking any water in this place, anyway. "Any chance that he could have called for, er…"

"I jammed everything. Probably why he didn't dodge–too busy being confused at how nobody was responding." 

There was a pause as both human and machine contemplated how close to disaster they had come.

"We'd better get moving." 

Deeper and deeper they descended, through many twisting corridors and stairs. Still, Sarah could not shake of the feeling–the feeling that she was being watched, that she was being hunted. 

But I'm not psychic. I don't have ESP, or precognition or anything like that.

She said as much to the AI, and received a verbal equivalent of a shrug in response.

"I'm sorry. I can't perceive what you are talking about." 

"Guess not." 

Eventually Sarah arrived at a large door, which looked like it belonged more on a bank vault. 

It was nothing less than a giant disc of solid metal, thicker than her forearm was long. Without the grace of human engineering (that is, perfectly balanced hinges), she doubted that any amount of pushing and shoving would have been able to get it open.

And the sight that met her eyes after was–

Criss-crossing lines of metal catwalks over a deep pit. 

Perfectly circular walls. 

And the gloom of night, lit only by an ominous crimson glow coming from the unknown machinery that lay deep below. 

She looked at her wrist much like how one would check the time, and the displayed number nearly gave her another pulse of vertigo.

"The source of the disturbance is down there." The device's voice sounded. 

Sarah leaned over the railing and looked down. "And how are we supposed to–oh, you've got to be kidding me." 

"It'll be safe. Trust me." 

~~[a]~~

Sarah Wenders leapt from catwalk to catwalk, landing on each one with a significant plonk. Her first jump had nearly missed, but she had been able to grab on to a guardrail and pull herself over the side. 

I'm already dead. She repeated to herself, over and over again. This is just extra time. Just overtime. 

Sheer terror had gripped her in that moment, hardly abating afterwards, and the mantra was only a tiny token in comparison. "Say, I can see the catwalks leading to other doors." Sarah gritted her teeth. "Surely we could have climbed down some more stairs instead of–" 

Her voice broke off. Instead of what? Nearly having a heart attack with every ten metres of descent? 

The AI seemed to know what she meant, because it replied. "You don't want to know how many people you've avoided by following my route. I've been monitoring communications as well. They've summoned more of the Guard unit.

A commando force in all but name, Sarah recalled. That was what it was.

Fantastic, send in the space marines. In real life. As if I don't have enough to deal with!

The ground chose this moment to shake, and a low rumble came to her ears.

"That was not from down there." Sarah looked around.

"It wasn't. Seems like our fellow intruders are making quite the bang." 

Quite the bang, if it could be heard from all the way in here. We're deep inside a…whatever this is, but we're practically behind walls as thick as my arm!

She leapt down once more, and finally she was level with what appeared to be the tip of a large cylindrical metal tower. There was a panel with multiple LED lights, which gave off their own glow, and other surfaces that looked like various control panels. As a boon, this walkway appeared to have stairs that led to the lower levels, but though the crisscrossing metal texture at her feet, she could still see that the bottom was a long way down. 

Slowly, Sarah walked forward. She wanted to run her hand over the machinery, to feel the bumps and dents.

Was this where Dad worked? Did he come here often? Adjust the knobs and dials, keep an eye on everything, stop the planet from exploding? 

Her father had never gone into the details.

Another boom from high above sounded, and the sound of a door being slammed open echoed downward, as did two voices. 

"Bullshit. How have we not found it by now?" Rough, female, exasperated.

"Another question for the list." More melodic, male this time. "Let's keep going."

There was a puff of displaced air.

"Next." 

Another puff.

"Next." 

Another.

Teleportation! Sarah's jaw clenched in anxiety again, and she instinctively ducked down low, into the shadows, trying her best to meld into the gloom. Slowly, she inched towards a corner.

"Next!" 

The two men appeared on the level above her, and finally, Sarah could make out their appearance. Melodic voice had on what seemed like trendy-looking street clothes in muted colours; he also appeared to have a mop of spiky-ish black hair, which somewhat matched the black jacket that fluttered behind him with every movement. 

On the other hand, rough voice had on tougher-looking clothing: what appeared to be a set of coveralls, teal-green in colour. At present, the hood was left down, exposing curly auburn hair to the elements. Both of them looked relatively young. 

The ground rumbled once more. It was no more intense than the shock that had came before, but it seemed to permeate through Sarah's bones, in a very definite and present manner. 

Then the second tremor came–not physical, but a wave of terror, almost primal in nature. 

Sarah shuddered, and curled up more into herself. Still, out of the corner of her eye, she could spot the two youths above undergo a similar action. 

The rough voice swore. "What the fuck was that?" 

"The clock ticking." Melodic Voice, when it replied, had a hard edge to it. "How much longer–"

"Yeah, about that. I'm just at my limit here, trying to keep us both shielded." 

"Then there's no point going deeper. Not if we're going to die of radiation sickness. We're retreating." 

Crouched far below, Sarah heard the puff of air retreat into the distance. She tapped her wrist. "How long more can you keep me shielded?" 

"Less than an hour if we stay on this level. Less than half an hour if we keep going deeper."

Another wave of terror shook her, and she resisted the urge to simply freeze, to lie down on the ground and accept whatever death awaited her. Channelling all her focus into each individual movement, she forced herself to speak. "Let's get out." 

Doom, that was what it was. Doom, and dread, and other similarly ominous feelings starting with 'd'. The worst thing was, knowing that it was unnatural did not help in the slightest. 

In fact, it just scares me more that something exists that can just…give off whatever it's giving off!

She couldn't stand it for another second. She leapt into the air, and–

Well, that was the simplest way to describe flying: as a jump in which you forget to come down from. She soared through the air, dodging around the walkways of steel that were now lethal barriers, and returned to the level in which she had come from. 

On her skin, something like a purple film flickered for a moment. "What's that?" 

"Apologies, Master. Just adjusting the Barrier Colloid. You don't want to know how much radiation was down there." 

She nodded. That was how the device worked, right? An insulating layer of remotely controlled microparticles…or something. The exact mechanics had been explained to her when she hadn't been in a state to listen, and she now hadn't the heart to ask for a recap. 

Not that I would understand it anyway. 

The way up and out was made just by retracing her steps, but the guards she had encountered or sneaked by were now all absent. At long last she emerged back into the cargo bay, and breathed a sigh of relief at returning to the surface…or would have, if the building hadn't been faintly smouldering around her. 

"Stay calm. All you need to do now is get back home." 

"Easier said than done." To be honest, that had not been something she had considered at all, and her jaw settled into a stubborn clench. 

"I'd advise getting as far away as possible from this place. Immediately." 

After the heat of a building's interior, the night air felt crisp and cold in comparison. She walked forward slowly, not rushing, not just to buy more time to examine her surroundings, but also because people had a tendency to chase anything that ran. 

Gunfire sounded in the distance, and there was the boom of an explosion. But whatever was going on at the other side of the facility, she wanted nothing more to do with it, and so she carried on moving. 

But of course, things were never so simple. 

Two small figures ran past her in the night, both wearing dark clothing and hooded jackets. Long black hair whipped in the wind, as did short straw-blond, a strange faded colour that looked as if life had been leeched out of it. 

Hey, it's dangerous! Her mouth was open, but her voice was silent, on survival instinct alone. 

"You need to get out," the AI urged. "Unless you want to be caught–"

"I get it. Shut up."

More gunfire. Another explosion. She didn't know for sure, but to her it felt as if the sounds were getting closer, catching up–

She began to run. 

And it wasn't long before–

"You! You're the one!"