One foot in front of another, Theo Xeta approached Vye with an intentional slowness.

The three-second fight knocked all the wind out of Vye. Her nose had finally stopped bleeding, but the cuts and bruises still burned under the blood-soaked shirt. After witnessing Xeta’s superhuman strength and speed, she did not even bother to run.

Although Xeta spared her life, she was still afraid. After all, he had just paralyzed a man for life with zero hesitation.

“What is your name?” Xeta asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, but Vye was buying none of that.

At a closer look, Xeta was wearing more than Stormrunning gadgets. Underneath his burnt left sleeve, an intricate array of metal rods extended into his shirt and beyond. It must be an exoskeleton that enhanced his physical capacity.

Vye was unaware this technology even existed, but it wouldn’t be the first time that the CEO of XetaCorp kept secrets from the public.

“Cut the bullshit,” said Vye. “Whatever you wanna do, just do it fast.”

Xeta looked almost a little hurt by the remarks. He handed her a tiny syringe.

“It’s ethermine. Painkiller used by Stormrunners on the fronts.”

Vye knew exactly what it was. Ethermine was more than a painkiller. By tweaking a few molecules, ethermine would morph into its highly addictive counterpart, ethermax. Half of her jobs in the underworld involved either ethermine or its upstream supply chain.

However, Vye was in too much pain to care. She grabbed the syringe and plunged it into her veins. Instantly, the burn and throbbing faded away. After a few tries, she managed to sit up.

Feeling her fingers return to life, she reached into the boxes behind her, searching for a usable weapon.

“Careful there,” said Xeta, oblivious to her plan. “You took a pretty hard hit.”

Vye pulled away a little.

“Don’t put on that friendly act,” Vye said. “You are fooling nobody.”

Xeta was a little taken aback.

“I’m a Fraxian, just like you.”

“You’re a Fraxian billionaire. First a billionaire, then a Fraxian.”

“And what is wrong with that? XetaCorps is the pride of the Fraxians.”

Vye sneered, forgetting she was speaking to one of the most powerful individuals in the nation.

Her hands continued searching. Finally, her fingers wrapped around a spherical orb the size of an orange. This could be her chance.

“What’s the use of Fraxian pride? Can pride fill an empty stomach or pay rent? Step out of your mansion. Go take a walk along the Mill Row. Ask the kids in those tents if they feel any Fraxian pride.”

At Vye’s words, Theo Xeta fell into silent contemplation. His eyes glanced outside the window, at the same full moon Vye had spoken to.

Pouncing on the chance, Vye picked up the orb and threw it toward Theo Xeta’s head at full force.

Catching the movement from the corner of his eyes, Xeta instantly dodged. However, the orb did not fly in a straight path. In fact, it decelerated rapidly until it floated in midair.

Suddenly, the orb began spinning, and an orange glow emanated from its core. Soon, the orange light intensified, thickening and swirling into a white flare that engulfed the entire room. From the heart of this halo, a new world materialized into existence.

Vye could see the forlorn cabins and hear the howling winds. But there was so much more. Her thermal sense could perceive the heat of this world, like the cold gusts that sent a shiver down her spine, or the dying heat from near-extinguished oil lamps behind the beaten walls.

It was a bizarre feeling. She was in two worlds at once. She could still sense the heated air pumping out of Thermo Pipes in Theo Xeta’s room, but she could also perceive every tiny detail in this broken new world. However, as she commanded her body to run, nothing moved.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Curiosity soon overcame her fear. Vye began navigating the new world. She realized she didn’t have to walk; all she needed was to have her Fraxian thermal sense carry her.

It must have been mid-winter. A family was huddling in a small hut, with frigid winds and icy water leaking into the room from the hole in the roof. A pot of bland stew, filled with only potatoes, sat on top of a small fire, the liquid barely reaching a simmer. Not a word was spoken.

Beside the soup was a small mound of baked dough, a pitiful attempt at making a cake without butter or eggs. Two thin candles stood slanted on top. It was someone’s birthday.

Vye sensed one thing in the room that was particularly warm, and it didn’t take her long to find it. A toddler sat on a young boy’s lap, her forehead burning fierily with the last bit of life force. The toddler’s skin was hot to the touch, but no sweat beads could be found. Tears began to well up in Vye’s eyes. Somehow, Vye just knew that this warmth would soon burn itself out, leaving behind a cold, lifeless body for the next night’s blizzard.

A gust appeared, and the room flickered. The two birthday candles burnt out, leaving the room just a little darker and colder.

As quickly as it appeared, the world around Vye dematerialized, throwing her senses back to the warm room in Theo Xeta’s mansion. She searched around, as if trying to scoop up the residual slivers of the reverie, but not a hint of them remained.

Vye returned to reality. However, the frigid winds and the dying candles were forever etched in her memory. She was too overwhelmed with shock and sorrow to move.

In front of her, Theo Xeta grabbed tightly onto the orb. Its orange light faded away. From the mixture of anger and shock on his face, Vye was sure that he had seen the same images that she had. She was also sure that whatever patience and mercy he had were now completely gone.

Theo Xeta glared at her, not speaking a word.

“What… What the hell was that?” said Vye.

Xeta ignored her. He carefully placed the orb into another drawer with a gentleness starkly contrasting his anger. Then he shut the drawer and turned the key. A click echoed in the silence.

“Was that real? Those images?” Vye pressed on.

“Yes. Very real.”

“The little girl who… Who was she?”

“None of your business.”

So this was something that had actually happened. Vye’s mind raced, piecing the puzzles together.

Xeta ripped out a torn piece of curtain from the floor, twisting it into a makeshift rope. He pulled on its ends, testing its strength. Then he walked toward Vye.

Suddenly, Vye understood. It wasn’t any images. It was a memory.

Although Vye wished to empathize with the situation, Xeta’s anger allowed no room for dialogue. Watching him approach with the makeshift ropes, Vye shook herself free from the residue of emotions. She focused on the present, on the plan to escape.

“That little boy, that was you, wasn’t it?”

Xeta stopped dead in his tracks. Vye pressed on.

“I’m sorry for what happened. I was wrong about you.”

Xeta fell into contemplation. This timing was no coincidence. From Xeta’s earlier interactions, Vye had noticed how he often became lost in thought when certain subjects came up. She used it to her advantage.

Seizing this moment of hesitation, Vye fired his grappling hook in Xeta’s direction.

Xeta tilted his head and easily dodged the hook, but Vye was never aiming for him. The grappling hook flew through the open door behind him and latched onto the corridor.

Vye launched herself toward the hallway. A tinge of guilt hit her. She truly meant every word she said, and if she had a choice, she would not have manipulated Xeta’s vulnerable moment. But desperate times called for desperate means.

The blast of shotgun soon followed. Vye kept moving, not daring to look back. Alternating between the pair of grappling hooks, she maneuvered through the labyrinth of walls and rooms.

The Stormrunning gear was not designed to be used indoors. The modified gear she was wearing increased agility at the cost of lower stability, but it also became twice as dangerous to use. At such velocity, one wrong turn meant a lethal crash against the wall.

However, Vye was a veteran of the modified gear. In just a few glances, she calculated her path to the nearest window. Each movement was a swift decision, every movement mapped within fractions of a second. The rattling steel cables bit into her skin as she pivoted with a dangerously tight radius.

The shotgun blasts chased her, but the distance grew. Within seconds, she reached the window. She pulled out her pistol and emptied the clip on the glass. The window shattered.

The rumbling footsteps closed in, but Vye already threw herself out of the window. As she fell backwards into the city, she pulled out her cyro grenade and threw it into Xeta’s house.

Xeta quickly ducked out of the way, but no explosion came. Had he picked up the grenade, he would find out that Vye did not bother pulling the pin. Vye had no intention of hurting Theo Xeta. She only wished to buy time.

Once Vye broke into the open air, a wave of relief washed over her. Swinging between houses was far easier than between corridors. Cloaked in the shadows of the city, she flew toward the darkness.

Suddenly, Vye saw a red laser dot appear on her chest. It was the laser sight of a rifle. No matter how she weaved between buildings, the dot remained fixed on her, mirroring her every move.

Vye glanced back. Theo Xeta was standing on the edge of his broken windows, a sniper rifle in his arms. The muzzle was pointed right at Vye.

However, even after many seconds, no shot was fired. Xeta kept the laser dot trained on her, as if taunting that he could end her life any moment, but he made the choice to let her live.

Vye smiled. That was childish. But wasn’t she the same when she threw all the futile attacks at him?

Seeing that, Vye raised two fingers to her temple and saluted Theo Xeta. Then she flew into a blind spot and into the darkness beyond.