The blinds buzzed faintly as they rotated open, letting in a flood of simulated sunlight. It washed over the room with a buttery glow, a mimicry of morning warmth sponsored by the latest immersive advertisement playing just outside the window. Soft tones of an ambient track flowed into the space, bouncing off the walls of Rae’s apartment—a cozy amalgamation of personality and tech-driven necessity. The room hummed with low vibrations of active systems, faint beeps signaling background processes as various devices communicated in a quiet, digital symphony.
Irintia stretched languidly under the weight of the violet duvet, the fabric coarse but comfortably worn. The smell of freshly activated nutrient packs wafted in from the corner kitchen—a blend of synthetic berries and protein-rich substitutes Rae was expertly throwing together with a handheld Graff mixer. Her mismatched socks slid across the smooth flooring as she swayed lightly to the music, oblivious to Irintia’s half-lidded gaze.
“You’re up,” Rae said without turning, her voice carrying a playful lilt. She flicked her dyed blue hair over one shoulder, her skater dress from the night before now replaced by an oversized shirt with a graphic of a holo-band Irintia had never heard of. “You slept through three of my alarms. Guess the misfit needs her beauty sleep.”
“Takes a lot of effort to look this effortlessly stunning,” Irintia replied, her voice raspy with sleep as she propped herself on one elbow. She adjusted the straps of her carbon-fiber tank top, tossing a wry smile toward Rae.
Rae chuckled, setting the mixer aside and pouring the frothy concoction into a pair of transparent mugs. “Flattery won’t get you out of eating my cooking,” she teased, carrying the drinks to the table before disappearing back into the kitchen.
Irintia took in the apartment around her. Every inch of wall space was covered in holographic decals, posters of radical street art, and compact shelves stacked with botany guides and nutrient formulas. Rae’s love for vibrant life—in a city that seemed to choke it out—was evident in the small hydroponic garden clinging to one corner. Neon vines spiraled upward, their bioluminescent tips casting a gentle cyan glow over the otherwise drab gray walls.
“So, what’s the plan today?” Rae called out, her voice echoing over the hiss of a pan on the induction stovetop.
“I was thinking I’d find some unsuspecting metalhead to hustle,” Irintia replied lazily. “Or maybe I’ll just come visit you at Watskie’s and bask in your inability to serve a decent drink.”
“Excuse me?” Rae’s head popped around the kitchen corner, her eyes playfully narrowed. “You’d be lucky to get one of my signature Illusive Slag Slammers. Takes skill, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, skill,” Irintia shot back, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Skill to spill half of it on your way to the table.”
“Oh, slag off,” Rae said, laughing as she returned to the stove.
Irintia watched her for a moment, her grin softening as the banter ebbed. Rae’s presence was magnetic, filling the room with an energy that made the sprawling megacity outside seem less oppressive.
Rae reappeared with two plates in hand, each adorned with what could pass as a semblance of breakfast—nutrient-packed pancakes, a dollop of vibrant green algae spread, and a side of charred mystery protein. “Ta-da!” she declared, setting the plates down with a dramatic flourish.
“Is it edible?” Irintia asked, eyeing the spread suspiciously.
“Rude,” Rae said, feigning offense. She plopped down across from Irintia, tucking her legs under her. “But yes, it’s edible. Barely.”
Irintia picked up her fork and poked at the green spread. “It’s… not moving. That’s a good start.”
“You’re hopeless,” Rae replied, grinning as she took a bite of her own creation.
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the hum of the apartment’s systems filling the spaces between bites. Rae’s foot found Irintia’s under the table, idly tapping against it in a silent rhythm.
“I was thinking…” Rae began, her tone shifting slightly. She set her fork down and looked at Irintia. “Maybe it’s time we started thinking bigger. I mean, this—us—we’re good. Better than good. But what if we could… I don’t know, make something more of this city? For ourselves?”
Irintia tilted her head, intrigued. “You mean like… take on the world?”
“Something like that.” Rae smiled, though her expression turned more serious. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about applying for that hydroponics and aeroponics program over in Fervile. You know, that big one with the advanced systems? They’re recruiting for junior technicians, and it’s… kind of perfect for me.”
Irintia’s brow furrowed slightly. “Fervile? That’s not exactly around the corner.”
Rae nodded, her tone softening. “I know. I’d have to move. But it’s a real opportunity to do something bigger, to work with plants and systems on a whole new level. Imagine what we could do if I learned all of that.”
Irintia leaned back, crossing her arms. “I don’t like the idea of you being so far away. Watskie’s wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“It’s not forever, Iri. And we’d figure it out. It’s just… something I’ve been dreaming about.”
Irintia sighed, her resistance softening. “I get it. I do. And I’d never hold you back, Rae. It’s just… you’re my rock, you know? Things wouldn’t feel right without you around.”
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Rae reached across the table, her hand brushing Irintia’s. “Hey, it’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve got time. And anyway, who’s going to help you pick fights with metalheads while I’m gone?”
Irintia smirked, the tension breaking slightly. “Oh, please. I’d survive. Probably.”
“Only probably?” Rae teased, leaning forward. “Guess I’ll have to make sure you’re well-fed and ready for battle before I go.”
“Well-fed? You’ve got a long way to go with this cooking,” Irintia shot back, poking at the algae spread again.
Rae laughed, throwing a balled-up napkin at her. “Alright, misfit. Finish your plate, and I might let you come help me water the garden later.”
“Deal.” Irintia smiled, the earlier weight in the air lifting as they settled back into their easy rhythm.
***
The air hummed softly with the ambient tones of low-level synth music, playing from Rae’s old, battered speaker rig. The two lounged lazily on the low sofa, Rae’s legs draped across Irintia’s lap. Rae was halfway through recounting a particularly ridiculous rumor about Chang—something involving a failed shipment of illicit goods and a mad dash across the lower levels of Centafts.
“And then, get this,” Rae said, grinning ear to ear, “the idiot actually tried to bribe a drone operator mid-flight. Like, who even thinks that would work?”
Irintia snorted, shaking her head. “Chang’s got more guts than brains. I’ll give him that. But remind me to never trust him with a delivery.”
“Oh, come on. He’s not that bad,” Rae teased, flicking a piece of fabric lint at Irintia. “You’re just bitter because he out-hustled you at cards last week.”
“He didn’t out-hustle me. He cheated,” Irintia retorted, poking Rae’s thigh in mock indignation. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll figure it out.”
Rae rolled her eyes dramatically and opened her mouth to reply, but the chime of the apartment door interrupted her. They both glanced toward it, neither in much of a hurry to move.
“Expecting someone?” Irintia asked, lazily brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
Rae shook her head, pushing herself up on one elbow. “Not unless Chang decided to show up and bribe me with excuses.”
Irintia smirked and stood, smoothing the rumpled fabric of her tank top and shorts. “I’ll handle it. You’re not exactly dressed for company.” She motioned toward Rae’s oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder.
“As if you’re one to talk,” Rae shot back with a grin.
The door chimed again, more insistent this time. Irintia padded across the room, barefoot, and swiped her IPC over the control panel. The door hissed softly as it unlocked and slid partially open.
“Yeah?” she started, only to have her words cut off as a heavy boot crashed into the door, sending it flying open. Irintia stumbled back in shock. A man in dark tactical gear was instantly upon her. Without hesitation, he grappled her head with one hand, smashing it swiftly into the closest wall. The impact sent her crumpling to the floor, dazed and bleeding.
“Iri!” Rae screamed, scrambling to her feet, but the apartment was already flooding with figures clad in dark tactical gear. One moved swiftly, grabbing Rae by the arm and pinning her against the floor with brutal efficiency.
Irintia groaned, her vision swimming as she struggled to push herself upright. A heavy boot pressed down on her shoulder, shoving her back to the floor. She blinked blearily upward, the room spinning, as a shadowed figure loomed over her.
He had an unsettling mix of corporate polish and unhinged arrogance. His suit was sharp, tailored to perfection, but his sneer was a mask of disdain. He glanced around the cramped, cluttered apartment with barely concealed disgust, as if the very air offended him.
“Trash living in a dump,” he sneered.
Irintia’s head throbbed as she managed to croak out, “Who the hell are you?”
His eyes flared with indignation, and he crouched beside her, leaning in close. “Who am I?” he repeated, as though the question itself was an insult. “I’m Marshall Katari. A name you should know, considering I own more of this city than you’ll ever see in your miserable little life!” He recomposed himself, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. “But I suppose I shouldn’t expect someone like you to recognize greatness.”
Irintia snarled through her pain. “You think you’re better than us? Your spoiled corpse is nothin' but a puppet for the corporate execs!”
Katari’s expression twitched, “You know nothing of what I am!” He glanced down at Rae, who was sobbing quietly, her face pressed into the chic rug as two of his men held her down. “But I'll show you who I am. You took something from me. So now I’ll take something from you. Something irreplaceable.”
“No! Don’t touch her!” Irintia screamed, thrashing against the grip of her captors. “You pile of slag! Let her go!”
Katari ignored her, turning his attention fully to Rae. “You want to know why, don’t you? Why this is happening? Because you thought it was so, so funny. No rules for you. You thought you could defile my family’s last memento and get away with it. My mother planted that garden. My brother cared for it. And you—” He leaned down toward Rae, his voice dripping with venom. “You ripped it apart like it was nothing.”
Rae’s tear-streaked face turned toward Irintia, their eyes locking in shared terror. “Iri…” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Katari gestured to one of the men. He was handed a sleek knife, its sharp blade reflecting the light, blinding Irintia for a brief moment. “So, let me make this clear. This isn’t just punishment. This is justice. And you,” he gestured toward Irintia with the blade, “will remember this moment for the rest of your worthless life.”
He knelt beside Rae, his movements deliberate, savoring the power he held. Rae struggled weakly, pinned under the weight of the men holding her. Katari gripped her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck.
“Please, no!” Irintia’s voice broke, tears streaming down her face. She fought harder, her cries desperate and raw. “Don’t do this!”
Rae whimpered, her lips forming silent words as their gazes remained locked. Katari pressed the tip of the blade against the side of her throat, dragging the moment out, savoring the anguish in Irintia’s eyes.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed the blade into Rae’s neck. Blood welled instantly, spilling onto the rug in crimson rivers. Rae gasped, choking, her eyes wide with pain and fear. Katari twisted the blade, ripping it outward toward Irintia. The spray of blood splattered across her face, warm and viscous, painting her in grief and horror.
“No! Rae!” Irintia’s scream tore through the room, a sound of pure agony.
Katari stood, wiping the bloodied knife on the edge of Rae’s shirt before dropping it beside her lifeless body. He pulled a black dahlia from his lapel, letting it fall onto the growing pool of blood. “Consider this a lesson,” he said coldly, his eyes boring into Irintia. “I want you to remember this moment, Irintia Farvald. Remember how powerless you were, how everything you love was taken from you. Every time you breathe, every time you close your eyes, I will be there, haunting you. You’ll see her blood, feel her warmth fading, and know that you were too small, too weak, to stop it.”
The men released Irintia, and she scrambled across the floor, crawling toward Rae’s body. The room emptied, Katari and his men moving into the hall. Marshal took one more moment to absobe the scene, before motioning to move on.
Irintia cradled Rae’s limp form, her hands trembling as she pressed against the wound, futilely trying to stop the flow of blood. “No, no, no,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please, Rae… please.”
Her cries echoed through the apartment, raw and broken. Blood smeared across her face, her clothes, the rug beneath them. The black dahlia lay beside her, a cruel reminder of the life torn away.