7 MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE NEAR-TOTAL DESTRUCTION OF DISTRICT 43…

  FOLLOWING THE BOMBING OF KOMOS TOWER IN AN UNPRECEDENTED TERRORIST ATTACK, A WAVE OF MISSING PERSON CASES HAS SWEPT THROUGH STRINOVA…

  REPORTS OF “CRYSTAL MONSTER” SIGHTINGS HAVE BEGUN TO POUR INTO P.U.S CALL CENTERS…

  AMIDST THE CHAOS, AN INDIVIDUAL HERALDED AS “THE NAVIGATOR” HAS EMERGED, TAKING UP RESIDENCE IN THE ASTRAL SANCTUARY…

  WHISPERS OF A NEW THREAT HAVE BEGUN TO SPREAD…

  THE FUTURE OF THIS NEW WORLD HAS NEVER BEEN MORE UNCERTAIN…

  > I <

  The anchor of Neutroville was gone.

  Natalie’s eyes traced the brilliant cyan cracks and gashes that blossomed in the sky over where Komos Tower’s blooming peak once was. The lower half of the structure was all that remained—sapphire snow drifted off the jagged stump on an invisible breeze. The corners and edges of several surrounding skyscrapers were also disintegrating into neon-blue flurries. Natalie sighed and turned—she pulled her communicator from her pocket. The hand-sized tablet’s screen lit up, displaying a string of messages from Kokona.

  Kokona - it’s just off 9th Street, Area 88, Neutroville.

  Kokona - look for the big star sign, you can’t miss it.

  Kokona - if anyone can help your brother, it’d be her

  Kokona - don’t get your hopes up, though

  Natalie looked up and tugged at the collar of her jacket. The building rose above its neighbors, a blend of vanilla-colored concrete and curved windows. Toward the roof was a large sign depicting a four-pointed star in an archway.

  This must be the place… She ascended the short concrete stairs that led up to the building’s glass double doors, and stepped inside.

  The lobby was small and cozy—couches and loveseats were arranged on either side of the room, garnished with short coffee tables. Little golden lamps shaped like stars and crescent moons cast their warmth over stacks of books that littered the tables. The walls were smooth, gray-ish white metal. The ceiling was sunken, and warm light drifted down from beneath the recession that crowned the borders of the room. Cool air pushed the summer warmth off her shoulders and swaddled her in the scent of herbal tea. The door hissed shut behind her.

  A blonde-haired girl reared her head up from behind the reception desk.

  “Oh! Hello!” She slipped a pair of squarish glasses on. “Welcome to the Astral Sanctuary! Are you here with a health concern or just visiting a patient?” Natalie approached the reception desk and leaned against it.

  “I’m actually here to see Celestia,” she said.

  “Oh, I’m afraid the director isn’t seeing anyone right…now…” The girl’s voice trailed off as Natalie set her gold and blue P.U.S badge on the desk.

  “It’s important. I’m sure she can make time.”

  “Right, I’ll call for her immediately.” The girl lifted a black phone from its cradle on her desk and began dialing. Natalie turned back toward the doors.

  Clusters of people walked up and down the street, dressed for Summer. Children laughed and chased each other across the road and over the sidewalks; well-dressed women rested umbrellas against their shoulders to keep the sun off their necks; a father wiped ice cream off his daughter’s face with a napkin. Natalie smiled—life in Strinova had a way of thriving, even in the wake of a disaster.

  “If you’re here for the Navigator, I’m afraid he’s currently tending to a patient at the Strian branch…” The soft voice fell around her like the gentle caress of a nighttime breeze. Natalie turned. A teenage girl stood by the reception desk. Her hair was stark white and cascaded past her waist. She wore a pale blue overskirt that fell over a short, purple dress with one sleeve—the violet fabric was speckled with gilded stars and constellations. A star-shaped pendant hung from a black choker around her neck. Her amethyst eyes widened as they studied Natalie’s face. “...but you aren’t here for the Navigator, are you…?”

  Natalie shook her head. “You must be Celestia? Kokona sent me.”

  Celestia nodded. “Natalie, I presume. I expected you months ago…”

  Natalie looked away. “Yeah, sorry about that…P.U.S has had our hands full lately.”

  “I can imagine, following the attack on Komos Tower,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “Come, shall we have this discussion somewhere more private?” She gestured for Natalie to follow and approached a silver door behind the reception desk, placing her hand on a black scanner pad next to the door frame. It beeped, and the door hissed open, revealing a spacious elevator. Natalie followed Celestia in. Celestia tapped the highest button labeled with the icon of a house. Shish! The doors shut and the floor heaved up beneath Natalie’s feet.

  The walls hummed. Metal clattered somewhere beyond the ceiling. Natalie glanced over at Celestia.

  She’s so…young… “You run this place?”

  Celestia giggled. “Surprised? Don’t worry, I get that a lot.” The girl’s gaze drifted up to the ceiling. “I established the Astral Sanctuary a few years ago, after…well, no matter. We’ve found great success thanks to the generous contributions of Urbino. We’ve managed to establish locations all across the dimensional cities, and the Navigator has been such a blessing…” Her voice drifted and her eyes glazed. The elevator jerked to a halt, shaking her back to her senses.

  A mechanical voice droned from a speaker in the ceiling. “Floor. Ten. Residency. And. Lounge.”

  “Come. Follow me.” Celestia led Natalie down a long hallway lined with doors—the metal face of each door was stamped with a name: “Adrianna M.”, “Heather L.”, “Marcus O.”, and so-on. They reached the end of the hall, greeted by a single large door bearing the same star logo as the outside of the building. An engraved plaque curved over the doorway: “ASTRAL LOUNGE”. Celestia lowered her face to an angled panel by the door—it whined and a line of blue light drifted down her face.

  The mechanical voice returned. “Welcome. Director. Celestia.” The door swished open, and they stepped inside.

  The room was massive. The wall curved at the far end—half of it was a large aquarium; the other half, a long, shuttered window. Towards the center of the room were two desks arranged in a V-shape, bearing messy loads of papers. Wide-screen computers sat next to robotic storage units that purred and displayed pixelated cat faces on little screens. The left side of the room was dominated by large red couches and a wide coffee table. A kitchenette was pressed into the corner—a small stove, a fridge, a sink, a dishwasher, some cabinets, and a very large, ornate coffee machine. The right side of the room was filled with more couches and desks, and the walls were lined with packed bookshelves. The entire room was bathed in a gentle yellow glow, and the ceiling was a screen that displayed a dark sky full of scattered, glittering stars and galaxies.

  Celestia tapped a panel on the wall. With a loud grinding, the shutters over the window receded and spilled sunlight into the room. She walked to the coffee machine, humming to herself.

  “Could I interest you in my Starlight Coffee? I’m on version 23.9.35.85, thanks to some suggestions from the Navigator,” she said.

  Natalie stared at her. Version…what? “I-I’m good, thanks.”

  The white-haired girl frowned. “Just tea, then.”

  “Tea would be fine,” Natalie said. Celestia returned to humming, cranking knobs and pushing buttons on the coffee machine. The rattle of liquid began to whisper over the purring of the bulky machine. Natalie took a seat on the couch—she sank into the cushion and leaned back as the fabric soaked all the tension from her muscles. “I need to get one of these…”

  “Aren’t they wonderful? We got them on sale.” Celestia turned, carrying two steaming cups. The aroma of green tea was overpowering. She set the cups down on the coffee table and slid one over to Natalie, before sitting down on the opposite sofa. “Do you live nearby?”

  Natalie picked up her cup—heat poured from the ceramic into her skin. “Not exactly—I live in the P.U.S barracks, about twenty minutes from here.”

  Celestia’s eyes widened. “Really? I’ve heard those new barracks are just awful. Do you need a place to stay? We have a spare room here—”

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Natalie said. “To be honest, I prefer my accommodations to be a little less”— she looked around the room —”spacious…”

  Celestia cocked her head. “Is that due to your time in District 43?” Natalie flinched. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “No, no, it’s alright. Really. Just…unpleasant memories.”

  Celestia nodded. “I understand. But memories, even the unpleasant ones, are so important in this world. Kokona told me all about you and your…situation with your brother. I must ask, how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Celestia cocked her head and studied Natalie’s face. “Are you sure? Death and reconstruction can be quite traumatic…especially given the circumstances surrounding yours.” Celestia sipped her tea. “Would you like to talk about it? Get anything off your mind?”

  A blur of red fangs and curved knives sliced through Natalie’s mind. She suppressed another flinch. “Maybe another time,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. Hot liquid burned her tongue and the sweet fragrance of grass and herbs washed through her skull. “This is…really good.”

  Celestia smiled. “It’s not as good as my Starlight Coffee, but I pride myself on my brewing skills.” She set her cup down and clasped her hands in her lap. “Shall we discuss the matter of your brother, then?”

  Natalie took another sip of her tea—her eyes drifted over to the aquarium.

  “Can he be cured?”

  “Well, let me be very clear about one thing: there is no cure for Collapse Syndrome…at least, not yet. As for whether your brother can be treated, well…” Celestia shifted, gazing off into the distance with glazed eyes. She propped her elbows against her knees and rested her chin in her hands. “It’s…difficult to say, really. It’s not that simple. Your brother was using a drug called CRE-27—’Cognitive Reconstructor and Enhancer’—it was intended to not only rebuild minds, but strengthen physical and mental capabilities in the process…but it was banned decades ago for good reason.”

  Natalie looked down at the floor. “Yeah. Kokona told me. Makes the condition worse, right?”

  “Not just worse,” Celestia said. “It made Collapse Syndrome progress faster in the long term. Patients using the drug became heavily reliant on it. The longest any patient lasted on it was a year and a half, before it stopped working altogether. By that time, no other treatments were effective. None of the test subjects survived, Natalie, your brother may not even be alive anymore—”

  “He is.” Natalie traced the rim of her cup with her finger. “He’s out there…somewhere…”

  Celestia sighed. “Even if he is, you must understand that your brother is a fugitive of P.U.S. He’s been labeled a terrorist. Nothing awaits him but life in prison or, worse, execution on sight. To shelter him here and treat him would be—”

  “I know the risks, Celestia…”

  Silence settled over the table between them.

  “Well, then…” Celestia stood. “I guess it’s a good thing for you that the Astral Sanctuary is not affiliated with P.U.S.” Natalie looked up. Celestia was smiling. “I’ll do what I can for your brother…but I have to ask you one thing, first.”

  “What?”

  Celestia’s smile disappeared. Her gaze hardened. “What if I can’t?” Natalie’s heart plummeted, dragging her eyes to the floor. “Natalie…” Celestia sat down next to Natalie and rested a hand on her shoulder. “We each have a duty to this world—if I can’t treat Kayce, then I need to know that you’re willing to do yours, whatever that means. Are you willing to do that?”

  Natalie’s hands trembled. “I—” She tightened her grip around the tea cup. “I…don’t know…”

  >>> ||| <<<

  The undercarriage of the tiltrotor quakes under Natalie’s feet as turbulence rocks the aircraft. The roaring buzz of spinning blades fills her skull with numbing vibration. Chik! Clack! Clikk! Bolts are racked, chambers are checked, and fresh magazines are slotted into place as dozens of weapons are readied around her in the darkness. She tightens her grip around the handle dangling from the ceiling. Her eyes slip open.

  The passenger bay is painted in the dim glow of a red light on the ceiling. Rows of Enforcers sit in seats bolted along the walls on either side—their normally-blue status lights are yellow to indicate a state of high alert. A few of them are finishing prepping their guns, while the rest sit motionless. Natalie shudders.

  Never gonna get used to these damn things…

  A dull ache stiffens the muscles throughout her body. She stretches, rolling her neck, wrists, and shoulders.

  “Here.” The squarish barrel of a semi-automatic combat shotgun floats up next to her ear.

  “Thanks.” She slings it over her shoulder and turns to face the girl that passed her the weapon.

  She’s young, gazing at Natalie through bright sapphire eyes. The girl sets her face aglow with a wide grin. Golden hair falls past her waist, tied into two pigtails on either side of her head. She wears a white blouse with a cropped, blue P.U.S windbreaker; along with fingerless gloves and combat boots. A little bell is cinched around the top of her tie. Her standard issue comms headset has been adorned with a set of cat ears, and a black prosthetic tail is secured at the small of her back—it swishes and curls with slow, fluid motion. Natalie smiles a little.

  I’ve seen weirder, I guess… “Michele, right?”

  Michele’s childish grin hardens into stoicism as she snaps into a salute. “Investigator Michele, reporting for duty!”

  Natalie chuckles. “Relax. I only outrank you by a little,” she says. “You remember the plan?”

  Michele nods. “As soon as we touch down, you’ll engage your shield and provide us cover so we can get out and secure the landing area. Then, we’ll sweep through and secure the compound—”

  “Right, right, you got it.” Natalie interrupts her with a wave of her hand. KZZZZ!!! A buzzer screams over the roaring tiltrotor blades. The dim red light turns green. “Stick close to me, rookie, got it?” Michele nods and racks the bolt on her gun. Clack! The floor heaves and shudders as the belly of the aircraft unites with the ground. The Enforcers all stand in unison and turn to face the passenger bay’s loading ramp. Natalie steps up to the front of the group as the ramp begins to lower. Cold daylight rushes in. Natalie deploys her helmet’s face guard, then raises her arm in front of her and clenches her fist.

  BWEEEE!!

  The glassy, bright blue face of her hardlight shield materializes.

  Ping! Pang-ping! Ping! Before the loading ramp even meets the ground, a hail of bullets flies into the passenger bay. They ricochet off her shield and leave dents in the aircraft’s frame.

  “Let’s move!” Natalie says. The Enforcers raise their weapons behind her.

  The group pushes out of the transport as two more tiltrotors touch down nearby—they lower their ramps and spill more white armored figures onto the battlefield. Natalie’s eyes adjust to the pallid daylight. A massive, squat warehouse looms over her. The door of its loading bay rests open, like a mouth that vomits out multicolored boxes and shipping containers. Men and women with guns and gas masks peer out from behind cover. Gunshots and muzzle flashes hurl hot lead toward the P.U.S strike force.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  A metallic screech shreds the air as a bullet tears through the head of one of the Enforcers behind Natalie. It spasms, dropping its weapon and collapsing to the ground.Another Enforcer with the markings of a commander emits a bright chirp, speaking in a low, garbled tone.

  “Suspects hostile. Escalate force.”

  BANG! The first shot from behind her makes her ears ring. Dozens more follow in a rapid volley of machine gun fire. Natalie begins to press forward, keeping her shield raised against the onslaught of enemy bullets. Michele follows close behind her, peering out to shoot back. The Enforcers fan out.

  A couple suspects fall and bleed glowing blue flower petals from luminous wounds. Others scream at each other in gruff voices.

  “It’s the damn P.U.S!”

  “Warn the boss!”

  “Start burning the stash! Quick!”

  Michele produces a large round robot with cat ears and twin laser cannons. She heaves it over Natalie’s head.

  “Give ‘em hell, Mighty Meow!” she cries.

  The bot clatters to the concrete ahead of them. It purrs and mews, and as it begins to rise, the shouts of suspects become laced with confused screams.

  “The hell is that thing?”

  “Shoot it! Shoot it!!”

  Bullets shriek off Mighty Meow’s shell to no effect. A harsh hum fills the air. BREEEEEEE!! Two blue lasers of superstring energy rocket forward from the robot’s cannons and slam into one man’s chest. He screams as digital dust and sapphire snowflakes explode from the point of impact, and he falls to the ground.

  “Oh god!”

  “Run! Just run!”

  The suspects begin running in all directions. The Enforcers fan out. Mighty Meow locks onto another fleeing target and punishes him with a laser volley.

  “Get inside! Everybody get inside!”

  “Fall back!”

  They pour through doors like panicked ants returning to the safety of their mound.

  “Shut the damn door!”

  “They’ll just get it open again!”

  “Cut the cables, that’ll slow ‘em down!”

  One of the fleeing suspects raises her pistol as she ducks through the loading bay and fires. Clang! Crakk! The heavy garage door shrieks and rumbles as it falls—the maw of the warehouse clamps shut, denying further entry. The gunfire quiets. Michele skips over to Natalie.

  “Landing area secure. Ready to move to phase 2,” she says with a grin.

  Natalie nods and powers down her shield. “Nice move back there.”

  “A true gamer always keeps a few tricks up her sleeve,” Michele says with a wink.

  Natalie unslings her shotgun and approaches one of the red personnel doors the criminals had fled through. She tries the handle—it doesn’t budge.

  “Looks like they’ve locked us out,” she says.

  “Good thing we brought a spare key,” Michele says. She kneels in front of the door and plants a small red disk covered in warning labels next to the handle.

  The Enforcers break into groups and begin lining up in front of other exterior doors, planting similar disks. A handful of them stack up on Natalie’s flank. One of the tiltrotors roars back to life and lifts off—it begins circling the warehouse. A piercing crackle rings out from the transport, followed by the female voice of the pilot.

  “Attention suspects,” the pilot says, “this is Painting Utopia Security. We have the building surrounded. You will lower your weapons and come outside with your hands up, or we will use force. You have sixty seconds to comply.”

  Natalie begins to count down in her head.

  Michele backs away from the door and pulls a detonator from her pocket. “Doesn’t look like they’re coming out…”

  Natalie double checks the chamber of her shotgun. “They never do.” Her earpiece chirps. Time’s up. She nods at Michele.

  An Enforcer’s voice crackles over the comms. “Breaching.” Michele squeezes the detonator. Clack!

  BOOM!

  There’s a flash of brilliant fire and smoke. Clang! The door, thrown from its hinges, slams against the interior wall. The Enforcers charge in. BANG! The first one takes a hail of buckshot to the head and chest, falling. Its companions step over its body and pour into the hallway. Gunshots. Screams. Natalie and Michele bring up the rear. They pass over the corpse of a suspect on their way in.

  Shouts and gunfire echo throughout the building. The comms channel is filled with hollow, droning voices as the Enforcers chirp and call out to one another.

  “Doorway left.”

  “Corridor right.”

  “Tossing flashbang.”

  “Three contacts. Neutralizing.”

  “Deploying slow grenade.”

  “Room clear.”

  The Enforcers ahead break off into pairs, kicking in doors that line the walls. The flares of flashbangs and muzzle flashes bend their silhouettes in the doorways. Natalie and Michele surge down the hallway past them. The hall turns ahead, where they meet another door.

  “Going dynamic!” Natalie calls. She brings her leg up and drives her heel into the door, just above the handle. BANG! The door flies open. BOOM! She tilts her head just in time as a spray of buckshot shreds the air by her face, glancing off her helmet and taking a chunk out of the concrete wall. She grabs Michele and ducks back around the corner.

  “GO TO HELLLLL!!” BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Cement explodes from the wall behind where they were standing moments before.

  “One suspect. Shotgun,” Natalie says. She ducks around the corner, shotgun raised. Another muzzle flash. The corner of the wall next to her shatters into concrete shrapnel. Stray buckshot slams into her chestplate, throwing her onto her back. She rolls back behind cover, gasping. “Dammit.”

  “I got this,” Michele says. She kneels down and produces a little sphere with cat ears and a large camera eye. It springs up onto 3 little feet and chirps at her. She giggles and pats the little robot on its floating head. “Go get ‘em, Pawtector!”

  The little robot gives her a salute with one of its feet, then scampers around the corner. For a moment, all is still, except for the rattle of gunfire elsewhere in the building.

  “Huh? Wh-WHAT TH—” BWEEEE!! The man screams. The little robot comes scurrying back around the corner, smoke drifting off its eye. It leaps back into Michele’s arms.

  She laughs and cuddles the drone. “Good job!!”

  Natalie rounds the corner, shotgun raised. The man is laying on the floor, halfway through the doorway. Smoke and pixels float off the glowing wound on his back. Behind him, the room widens out into a massive storage space, separated by loaded shelves and shipping containers. The man groans and begins to rise.

  An Enforcer emerges from behind him. “Stay down,” it says. It levels its rifle at his head and drives its boot between his shoulder blades, forcing him against the ground. The man cries out. The Enforcer ignores him. “Suspect down and compliant. Awaiting transport.”

  “Confirmed,” another garbled voice says over comms.

  Natalie and Michele pass into the the larger space. An Enforcer Commander steps out from behind a shipping container and approaches Natalie.

  “Ground floor secure. Mission parameters met,” it says. “Awaiting further instructions.”

  “Stand down,” Natalie says. “I’ll handle the office myself.”

  “Affirmative. Entering standby mode.” The light on its face blinks from red to yellow.

  “Michele,” Natalie says, turning, “you’ve done enough. Wait here.”

  “What?! But…we still need to catch whoever’s in charge, and the Deputy Director said—” Natalie glares. Michele’s voice trails off into something between a groan and whine. Natalie sighs. She steps forward and rests a hand on Michele’s shoulder.

  “You did good today. Take a rest.” Michele says nothing, scowling at the floor. Natalie leans her shotgun against the wall. She turns toward a set of stairs leading up to the large office, hung from the ceiling with steel beams. Something shifts in her chest as she walks forward and begins climbing the stairs. Clang! Clang! Clang! Every beat of her heart is punctuated by her boots against the narrow, steel staircase. Her eyes fall on the door to the office. Pressure in her chest pushes bitter fire into her throat. Her muscles tense. She clenches her fist.

  BAM! She kicks the door in. A tall, lanky man with a head of tar-black hair is sitting behind a desk that takes up most of the room. He wears a rumpled dress shirt, cargo pants, and a loose tie. His wild brown eyes widen and he yanks a revolver out from under the desk and points it at her—Natalie’s eyes narrow.

  “Don’t even think about it…”

  “Stay back!” the man says. She takes a step forward. “I said stay back!” BANG! The muzzle of his pistol flashes. Pain explodes from Natalie’s side—she staggers back, gritting her teeth. Another step forward. The man fires three more times. Bullets clang off her armor. One strikes her helmet and throws her head back. She stumbles, then regains her balance. Roaring flames creep through her every muscle. Her eyes land on the man again—the gun rattles in his trembling hands.

  “That was a very stupid move…” Natalie says. She lunges. The man jerks back and fires again. The bullet whines past her head. Her fist closes around the barrel of his gun. She tears it from his grasp and brings the grip back across his cheekbone. The man yelps and falls out of his chair.

  “Okay! Okay! Ya got me! Relax!” Natalie unloads the weapon and tosses it aside. She steps over to the windows and begins shutting the blinds. Her hands shake—the muscles in her fingers are hot. “So what now,” the man says. He spits onto the carpet. “Ya gonna take me to jail? Wouldn’t be the first time you lot tried.”

  Natalie finishes shutting the blinds. She draws in a long breath. “No.”

  Silence. “...what?” Natalie whirls and seizes the man by his collar. She hauls him to his feet and throws him against the desk.

  “Our intel says that you’ve been in possession of a drug called CRE-27…”

  “Never heard of it.” Natalie throws her fist into his nose. His head snaps back and slams against the laminated wood desk. She releases her grip on his collar and he spills back onto the floor, clutching his face. “You—” He coughs. “Oh god…I think you broke—” Natalie hauls him up again and pins him to the wall. She retracts her faceguard.

  “Look at me.” The man looks away. She jerks him and slams him against the wall again. “I said look at me!!” The man glares at her, breathing through gritted teeth. “You may not give a damn, but this is important to me, so I’m not gonna sit here while you waste my time, understand? Now, you were in possession of a shipment of the banned drug CRE-27 until a week ago, when you sold it.”

  “Yeah,” the man sneers, “that’s how the business works, sweetheart.” Natalie drops him and drives her foot into his gut. The man retches and swears. She pins him to the wall with her heel.

  “Give me the name of the buyer. Now,” she says.

  “That’s confidential,” the man says. Natalie unclips her sword from her belt and ignites it, the blue tip of the blade stopping just shy of his left eye. “Woah, woah! Easy! Take it—”

  “What the HELL did I just say about not having time for your bullshit?!” Natalie rears back and swings. The hardlight blade glides over his head, carving a gash in the wall.

  “I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME!” the man screams, shielding his face with his hands.

  “THEN TELL ME WHAT YOU DO KNOW, DAMMIT!”

  “IT WAS JUST SOME KID!! Just…just some kid…” The man trembles. “He had his face covered in bandages and this…this mask. He was wearing a cloak, too. We only had three vials, and he bought all of ‘em. I don’t even know where a sewer rat like him got the money.”

  That’s him…it has to be… Natalie presses her foot harder into his chest. “Where did he go?”

  “Hell if I know. He was erratic…violent. Kept muttering about his sister and…and burning something. Probably in the late stages of Collapse Syndrome. I doubt he’s even alive anymore.” The man snarls and coughs. “Good riddance, I say. People like that are a stain on society…”

  “The hell did you just say…?”A fiery torrent of thoughts swirls in Natalie’s skull. “You think you have a right to talk about being a stain on society?” She presses down harder with her foot until the man starts to groan. “You think your life is worth more than his? You think it’s worth anything at all?” Natalie raises her sword. The man whimpers.

  “Please. Please don’t…I don’t wanna die…”

  Natalie closes her eyes and draws in another long breath—she takes her foot off his chest. “You’re gonna tell me everything about that sale. I want every detail, every word he said, down to which direction he walked from your building. Then, when you’re done, I’ll decide what to do with you.” The man says nothing, still trembling and hiding his face behind his arms. Natalie opens her eyes and kneels down. She pulls his arms down and levels her blade to his neck. “Hey. You listening to me? I said: start. Talking.”

  “I…I told you everything I kn-know…” the man says.

  Frost begins to form behind Natalie’s eyes, as her heart pumps magma through her veins. She seizes a fistful of his hair and jerks his head back. Tears stream from his eyes. His breath quickens.

  “Oh…” She presses the sword firm against his throat. He chokes as the hardlight edge begins to split his skin. “Well, that’s a damn shame, isn’t it?”

  “Enough!” The familiar voice ices over her muscles. “Natalie, that’s enough!” She releases the trigger on her sword—the blade dissipates.

  “You’re lucky, y’know that?” she whispers. She releases his hair and he slumps forward, weeping into his hands. Natalie stands and turns to find Kokona, wearing her custom tactical poncho, standing in the doorway. Her eyes are set into a glare and her jaw is set firm. “I was done with him anyways.” Natalie strides past Kokona, but the girl catches her arm.

  “Get that wound checked.”

  Natalie looks down at the glowing tear in her side where the bullet ripped through her. She presses her fist against it—pain coils its thorny vines around her abdomen.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “That was an order, Nat. We’ll discuss this later.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” Natalie storms out of the room. Downstairs, Enforcers are walking arrested suspects out of the building to armored trucks parked outside. Michele is guiding them—she glances up at Natalie and offers a small wave. Her eyes don’t match the weak smile on her face. Natalie’s gaze falls onto the sword still clutched in her hand. She sighs and clips it to her belt.

  Dammit…

  >>> ||| <<<

  “It…it won’t come to that, right?” Nausea chewed at the lining of Natalie’s stomach. She set the cup down with trembling hands. “You can treat him! Kokona said you could!”

  Celestia closed her eyes and shook her head. “I told you, it’s much more complicated than that. If this were any other normal Collapse Syndrome patient, I could, but this is different.” She gave Natalie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I promise I will do everything I can for him, but…your brother is dangerous. If I can’t treat him, then—”

  “Then what?!” Natalie leapt to her feet and whirled on Celestia. Moisture was beginning to accumulate at the corners of her eyes and her heart hammered in her chest. Her face grew hot. “You want me to kill him?! Kill my own brother?”

  Celestia sighed and looked down at the table. “His code would be too destroyed for reconstruction. He would finally know rest. So that would be the merciful thing to do, yes…”

  “Merciful?! I’m trying to save him, Celestia!”

  “Natalie…” Celestia looked away. “Do you have any idea what reverstring is like?” Natalie’s heart jerked. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. “It’s a complete unraveling of mind, soul, and body. Every bit of who you are…ripping itself apart. Your memories leave, your body falls apart…it’s more painful than you could ever imagine. Just think of the pain of feeling every atom, every string of code that makes up your body…die.”

  The words dug into Natalie’s chest like a barbed hook and twisted, forcing a sob to crawl up her throat. She swallowed it. Tears crawled down her face. She sank to the ground, burying her face in her hands and choking on her own breath.

  “I don’t want this for him…this isn’t…this isn’t fair…” she said.

  A dress swished. A set of slender arms folded around her and a head rested on her shoulder. “I know this is hard…I know…”

  “This…this is all my fault…I should have never left him…”

  “It’s not my place to say where the blame lies,” Celestia said. “But regardless of who is at fault, you are trying to make things right. That’s admirable, Natalie. That takes strength. This path you’re on isn’t easy, but you don’t have to walk it alone.”

  “And what if I can’t do it?” Natalie said. “What if I can’t kill him?”

  “I pray to the stars that it won’t come to that…” Celestia said. When Natalie’s sobs began to quiet, she released her embrace and set something on the table. “Take this.” Natalie looked up. It was a thick white pen-shaped object with a tapered orange end. A little window in its oblong plastic side revealed a dark, purple liquid within. “It’s an autojector. It’ll dose your brother with a powerful sedative that should knock him out for a couple hours. Do that and bring him here, and we’ll see what we can do for him, okay?”

  Natalie pulled in a trembling breath and grabbed the autojector. “Okay…okay…” Celestia helped her to her feet. “Thank you, Celestia…”

  Celestia wrapped her in another tight hug. “Be safe, Natalie,” she said. “We’ll save your brother, I promise.”

  Natalie hugged her back. She gripped the autojector tighter. “Yeah…yeah we will…”