Kara did not believe in faith.

To her, everything was part of a randomized chaos and the only order there was existed because you yourself chose to make it so. Destiny was therefore a lie. It was the simplest way of convincing yourself that you are where you are supposed to be. But it also meant you had no true control over your life. And Kara hated that.

She found purpose in the liberty life gave her. She was not meant by some divine power to die by the hands of her enemies, it was something she herself planned to do. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to, but she knew it was going to happen the way she planned it.

She opened the hatchard and climbed up the ladder from the engine room. Steam and dust followed her trail.

She wasn’t tall but had been working by the machinery long enough to build up some muscle, enough to look a bit intimidating at first glance. She kept her black hair short, but whenever she went downtown, she would put on a wig to mask her appearance. That along with proper shoes would give her the looks of yet another city-girl if need be.

Kara stopped at the platform and scanned the world around her.

This was her home. At the top of the western cable-tower she both worked to make a living and lived to make herself work. It would’ve been so easy to just quit, to just accept that the world was cruel and that she had no way of changing that. That she herself was just another part, another cog, in the machinery that was this city.

So, standing where she stood, above them all and on a safe distance from the buzzling streets and flashing lights, she was actually free.

Up on the tower she could see the lie that was Banmoor.

She stood a bit longer before going further up to the platform she had named her own. This was where she spent most of the nights, inside of a shed she had built out of scraps. From there through the skylight, she had a pretty good view of the people dining at the restaurant below. At first, she had been worried they would’ve seen her looking down at them in their fancy suits and dresses, but she had eventually learned that these people were too blind to see anything not set in gold or walstone.

She found her bag, and quickly checked that everything she would need was there. Some spare cloths and disguises, a small gun she had never used and a silencer to go with it. And…

She held up the watch and saw the silver-blue piece of metal for what it actually was. It was heavier than it looked and more dangerous than it seemed. Her true weapon, masked as everything else about her was.

She pushed the weapon into her pocket, and went to rattle the cage that were the city of Banmoor.

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Moving across the streets, among crowds hiding their faces, she was invisible. She melted into the rhythm of the city, even though she hated the tones. In a matter of seconds, she had adopted the pace and the attitude of a citizen of Westorch, the dirty underground belly of Banmoor.

This wasn’t the place you would’ve expected anyone claiming to be decent. These people did not much care for what happened when night came, so long as their pockets and bellies were full. Dealings in this part of the city were darker than the sump water flowing through the canals. In the end, there were rarely any lies in Westorch. It was a place brought down in shadows, and it did not claim to be of light.

Kara stopped at the crossroad as she saw the sign of Hotel Nine Corners. It was a white building with large windows facing the streets.

A pity, Kara thought. Had she suspected she would have to flee tonight those windows would’ve been an asset. But it had been a long time since she felt like a prey.

She crossed the road, ignoring the honking of the automobiles and late-night busy pedestrians in their dusty top hats and worn-out suits.

Up on her tower the air was still clean, but down here it was filled with soot and dust and ash. People talked of a time before the engines, how there had been gardens for every other block, but Kara had a hard time imagining such a thing. Not the green world they spoke of, but that Banmoor ever had been part of one.

It must’ve been a beautiful place if it ever existed.

Kara stopped outside the hotel and tried to determine if anyone had been following her. So far, the only ones looking her way was a pair of caged parrots that entertained an audience by singing further up the street. The colors of the birds were too bright for this city.

Kara relaxed her shoulders and went inside.

A young woman with braids sat at the reception desk. She reached under the table for something when Kara opened the door but hesitated when she saw who it was.

“He hasn’t come,” she said with a thick Westorch accent.

“I’m counting on it. Which room?”

“Twenty-fourth. Second floor.”

“Thanks Ada.”

Kara dropped a few bills on the counter and gave the woman a reassuring smile, before going upstairs. The woman risked a lot by organizing this meeting and would probably have refused if she knew what the outcome would be. Therefore, Kara assumed she’d better be making up for it somehow.

She reached the room and was happy to determine that it seemed to be next two unoccupied ones. It was a simple apartment with a bed at the far corner, a writing desk by the window and washing stand by the door. A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, giving off a cold white light and buzzing sound.

She did not need anything eccentric for this meeting. The man she was supposed to meet was an old former constable who had been trying to reach her about resurfacing walstone on the black market. She had been corresponding with him by letter before and felt pretty confident that the intel he had was legit.

By habit, Kara took out her watch and opened the case. There were no hands, no dials, to tell the time, but instead a series of blank pieces of metal in a constellation creating a circle with a cross inside on the surface. She let one finger touch one of those pieces and the watch started humming.

Slowly, the colors in the room started to bleed through. Kara stared at them.

Every room and every moment were different. The colors changed each second, stretching away, building shadows of items once present, now moved. They made the room vibrate and beautiful. Alive.

Kara smiled.

Until she saw a purple stream of light coming from under the bed. It was too strong to be of an animal, and too bright to be an older trace than a few minutes ago.

Kara swallowed, stepped outside the room, and closed the door.

A few seconds later, the room exploded throwing her backwards into the wall of the hallway.