Vye trembled at Theo Xeta’s words.

  To be part of something bigger. Why did this concept seem so… foreign? Had the day-to-day turmoil finally dulled her dreams?

  Vye struggled to recall her childhood. What dreams did that little girl have? She traversed her memory lane, prying apart footage after footage. There she was, the familiar little girl. But why had she never glanced forward?

  Yes, she had wished before. Every day at school, she had wished that her father would not shatter any beer bottles at night. Yes, she had hoped before. Even months after her father had left with the money, she would still tiptoe by the kitchen counter, hoping to find a plate of meat instead of a pot of broth. Perhaps she had even dared to fantasize. Even now, at the bottom of her mattress, the crayon drawing still sat crumpled, letting the dust settle on top of the happy family of four.

  Looking back, her memories had always revolved around contemporaneous circumstances, her wishes shackled to a past out of reach. But what about dreams? Dreams were supposed to be about the future.

  Did that little girl not dream?

  Finally, Vye’s mind returned to the present.

  “Answer’s still no,” Vye said, mustering a firm voice. As if that wasn’t enough to convince Theo Xeta, or perhaps herself, she added, “I don’t care about the bigger picture. I have more immediate worries on my mind.”

  Theo Xeta said nothing. He walked over to the corner of the room and pressed a button. After a whirl of machinery, a chair slowly slid out from a hidden room. On the chair sat a man. At the sight of light, he struggled against the cuffs that bound his hands, leaving a series of metallic clinks echoing through the room.

  Vye let curiosity get the better of her. She approached the man. His clothes were tattered, revealing a body marred by scars. Most were old, faded lines, but a few fresh wounds seemed only a few days old. Vye looked up, and she gasped.

  A skull mask sat on the man’s face.

  “Perhaps you remember our friend here,” Xeta said. “Your dear colleague from that night.”

  Vye needed no reminder. That was Skull Mask, an ex-Stormrunner turned assassin. He was the leader of the assassination operation that night. When Vye escaped, she left him incapacitated on the floor. She thought Xeta had already killed him.

  On second thought, why did Xeta keep the mask on him? Was it a flex of power? Was it to remind her of her deeds? Was it to deprive him of his humanity?

  “What’s the point of this?” Vye asked.

  “These are, in your own words, the immediate worries. A reminder of your past decisions. A symbol of the life that you had been living, that you now have the power to forsake.”

  Theo produced a dossier and pulled out a few files.

  “I did a little digging. I hope you do not mind,” Theo flipped through the files. “Only two misdemeanor records for petty larceny, both of them over five years old. Based on what I’ve seen, you’ve been venturing into much bigger enterprises for a while now. You got away with them all. That is impressive.”

  “I am a professional.” Vye could not conceal her smile, but she quickly added, “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

  “But this gets more interesting,” Theo pulled out another sheet of paper. “For a while, your family sent in loan applications after application, but the banks denied all seven of them. That stopped eighteen months ago.”

  “Of course, can’t have a poor family pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” Vye said, slightly irritated at the blatant transparency. “Did I ever tell you how much I hate billionaires?”

  “Oh, I surely would have forgotten,” Xeta said sarcastically. He moved down the page. “After the loan applications stopped, your total assets changed little, despite the presumably massive income you were bringing in.”

  “Massive income? I wish. Hypothetically speaking.”

  “Regardless, the numbers did not add up. This means you’ve got liabilities off the books. Loan sharks, I presume?”

  Vye blinked. Xeta was right. Ever since she took out that desperate loan for her mom’s medical bills, the gang hadn’t stopped hounding her family. It had only gotten worse with time.

  “I assume you went to the loan sharks when the bank applications stopped,” Xeta continued. “That is eighteen months of accrued debt. I heard they get nasty at the twelve month mark.”

  “Remind me again how this is any of your business?”

  “It became my business when your repayment plan involved killing me,” Xeta said wryly.

  Vye could not argue against that. They had made themselves clear. If she could not pay them back by the end of this month, they would chop off her brother’s ear. Now that Vye had failed the assassination job, her chances of repayment became even slimmer.

  Of course, Vye had considered killing the messenger, but there was an entire gang behind the scene. If she did that, they would dismember her family right in front of her.

  “These bank records, and this man right here,” said Xeta, pointing to Skull Mask. “They will trap you. This life will trap you. As the numbers pile up, their threats will get nastier, and you will be forced to compromise your principles again and again.”

  Xeta paused. He looked Vye in the eye, his gaze deep and penetrating.

  “If you work for me, Vye, I will settle all your debts. I will make sure your family is safe from every gang.”

  Vye’s eye widened. Could this be her way out?

  For her whole life, she had been trying to move her family to a better place. Dropping out of school had only been the beginning. She once thought that if she worked hard enough, took on enough jobs, she could chip away at the debt. But the jobs had only turned more illicit, her actions more gray. Despite the bullet scars accumulating on her body, these red numbers never shrank. It was an endless cycle. Wake up. Fire her gun. Making barely enough to put food on the table and pay back the interest.

  But what troubled her more was her younger brother, just a year shy of eighteen. He had offered to drop out of school so many times, and every time she had shut him down. But she could only hold him back for so long. If the debts were not repaid soon, he would certainly give up university to work. At that point, the last hope in the family would be lost. They would be trapped in this cycle, forever.

  By accepting Theo Xeta’s offer, all this could change. It was everything she had hoped for.

  But what was the catch?

  “How is working for you any different?” Vye said, coating her thoughts in defiance. “Instead of being indebted to the gang, I will now be indebted to you. You’d still send me into danger, still expect me to kill. I am still breaking my principles, just for a different employer.”

  “Your life will be different,” Xeta sighed, “because you are no longer fighting for day-to-day survival. You will fight for a bigger goal that you and I share.”

  “And what is this goal exactly? Increase shareholder value?”

  “Look, I know you harbor deep grudges against me and my wealth.”

  “Deep grudges is a shallow way to put it. With all your resources, you could have done so much for the people.”

  “Have I not done enough with ThermoTech?” Theo Xeta raised his voice. “Can you even remember life without XetaGen? It was only a decade ago.”

  Theo Xeta produced a small orange orb, the same orb that Vye had thrown at him a few nights ago. Now that Vye knew the full extent of its power, she braced for the incoming hallucination.

  Xeta let go of his hand, and the orb began floating midair, spinning and accelerating. The world around her twisted and warped, morphing into a metaphorical blend of dream and reality. The details of the world rushed into her senses, not just through her eyes, but also through her thermal awareness. And once again, she felt the bizarre sensation of being in two places at once.

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  She remembered something. She glanced at Skull Mask, still sitting in the corner.

  “Don’t worry, he can’t see this,” Xeta said. “It’s tuned to your thermal sense.”

  Suddenly, the world materialized. Vye recognized it. It was the same world she had traversed on the night of the assassination. Although she had walked through the world once already, she couldn’t help but do it again. The sensations flooded in. The forlorn winds whipping her face. The clatter of broken gas pipes in the leaky shack. The weak flames shrouded by a blanket of cold vapors. Even the worst house on Mill Row seemed like a luxury compared to this.

  And then Vye saw her, the sick toddler, sitting in the young boy’s lap.

  At this moment, she was still cooing, but Vye had already seen the ending of this story. She turned her eyes away. Watching her die once had been painful enough. She could not bear to see it again.

  Xeta waved his hand, and the two of them floated into a bird’s eye view.

  “This was my house sixteen years ago,” he sighed. “You were probably too young to remember what the world was like, but I was already a teenager.”

  Vye’s heart skipped a beat. She had been right all along. This was Theo Xeta’s memory.

  “The little girl, did she…”

  “My sister died from a flu,” Xeta said, his voice quivering a little. He took a step back, reverting to a voice more removed. “But the truth is, she died from scarcity. If we had more heating, her body could have fought off the disease. If the farms had better production, we could have afforded more nutrition. Hell, if the foundational sciences were as good as now, a single pill could have solved everything.”

  “I’m sorry,” Vye muttered, blinking away the tears. “And I’m sorry about last time, when… when I saw this. I meant every word I said back then. I used it as a distraction, but what I felt wasn’t a lie.”

  Theo Xeta nodded, not saying a word. He raised his hand, and the orb started spinning again, weaving another world from the orange and white light.

  Loud churning. Putrid smoke. Ripples of heat from burning red machinery.

  Vye opened her eyes in an old factory. Vye was no stranger to factories, having stolen quite a few XetaGen shipments here and there. However, this was nothing like those clean, modernized facilities. Here, the ground was grimy with machine fluids and burnt exhausts. The half-rusted metal gears screeched and creaked with each spin.

  “Look at this obsolete machinery,” muttered Theo Xeta. “This was a factory from fifteen years ago. These machines were supposed to form the foundation of our lives. How absurd? Everything looked like this. Water treatment plants, waste facilities, you name it.”

  A gust of rancid air struck Vye’s nose, causing her to cough and pull away in disgust.

  “So, you tell me, Vye. Do you think ThermoTech has improved our lives?”

  Vye hesitated. As much as she hated it, she had to agree. It was a fact that ThermoTech boosted food production, lowered energy costs, and created jobs. It improved everyone’s lives.

  However, the case was not convincing enough.

  “But what about all the money in your pocket?” Vye pressed on. “It amounts to billions. Instead of spending them, you are only building up your own power and influence. ‘First Fraxian billionaire’ my ass.”

  “And what do you prefer instead?” Xeta asked. “A world where all billionaires are Valerians? Where the halls of power are only filled with blue eyes?”

  Vye hesitated. Did that make Xeta more ethical? Did ethics even matter in this case?

  “Respectfully, when you are rich enough to get whatever you want, the color of your eyes doesn’t mean a damn thing. I got more in common with a Valerian in Mill Row than with you.”

  “But can you say you are equal to that Valerian?” Xeta pressed on. “Have you never been denied something they’d get without question? Have you never wondered how different things would be if only you had blue eyes?”

  Vye considered Xeta’s words. Much to her frustration, Xeta was right. A Valerian in her exact shoes would still fare better in life.

  “This is the world we live in,” Xeta exclaimed. “Yes, it sucks that so much power rests in the hands of so few, but at least now, for once, one of these hands belongs to a Fraxian.”

  “But how can I trust you? How can I know you are looking out for Fraxians like me, instead of only Fraxians like yourself?”

  Xeta pressed another button, and the world morphed again in a bright flash.

  This time, they were in a XetaGen factory. Dozens of freshly painted machines moved around between clean assembly lines. A web of Thermo Pipes connected these machines, feeding them energy-saturated natural gases. On the conveyor belts lined rows and rows of palm-sized devices, at least hundreds of them.

  “This was a XetaCorp plant. The machines were assembling thermodynamic sensors, the same ones used in water pipes, air conditioning systems, automobiles, and pretty much any piece of infrastructure.” Xeta clicked another button, bringing up a map of the Republic filled with orange dots. “Every single one of these orange dots represents a piece of critical infrastructure running on ThermoTech.”

  Vye’s mouth hung open in awe. However, she remained unconvinced.

  “Yes, I know the Republic cannot live without XetaGen,” Vye said. “This benefits you, but how does it benefit average Fraxians?”

  Xeta sighed. He turned and looked at Vye. “What is the key resource that keeps ThermoTech running?”

  Vye thought for a moment. Then, a lightning of realization struck her. Before she could speak, Xeta waved his hand.

  Now Vye found herself in a medical cleanroom. Hundreds of Fraxians lined up. In the center, a young Fraxian man sat in the chair, a few vials of blood drawn from his arm. Upon completion, the doctor handed the man a few bills. Then, these vials of biomatter were transported, modified, and infused into ThermoTech components.

  That was it. Fraxian cells were inside everything — sensors, transmitters, and even the thermal spears used by Stormrunners. This was how average Fraxians played into everything.

  However, there was a darker side to this. In the slums where nobody cared to look twice, Vye had seen the sorry state of the victims of donation.

  “This looks great on paper,” Vye said. “But in reality, poor Fraxians are selling their health for money.”

  “We have strict control in place. There are set limits to donation frequency, and doctors must always conduct a health exam before every donation.

  “You know there are black markets, fake identification, and a bunch of other ways to bypass the safeguards.”

  “No system is perfect, but I have no incentive to exploit them,” Xeta said. “ThermoTech relies on healthy cells to function. It’s common knowledge. Why would I want to pay people for half-dead cells pumped with alcohol and drugs?”

  Vye considered this. He had a point. Scientifically speaking, these donors were indeed of no use to XetaGen. However, XetaGen simply saw this as the cost of doing business. It was cheaper to toss out bad samples than to regulate the donation.

  “I know you have your doubts,” Xeta continued. “I admit, my work is far from perfect, but it is better than nothing, and it surely is better than having ThermoTech fall into Valerian corporate hands.”

  Vye pondered for a moment.

  “And what is your ultimate goal?”

  Theo Xeta paused. The images around him slowly faded into darkness. Only a single beam of light remained on his face, giving his eyes a tiny spark.

  “They will only take us seriously,” Xeta said, “when their own lives depend on us.”

  “They will depend on us like how we depend on cattle,” Vye said. “We are but a source of energy to them.”

  “This is why I must be the one steering this ship!” Xeta said. “This is why we need a Fraxian voice in the upper echelons. This is why XetaGen and Thermotech must be run by Fraxians. Even cattle have power when they control life and death. This is our only bargaining chip.”

  Vye understood. So this was the bigger picture that Theo Xeta saw. This was the enterprise behind the enterprise, the bigger play that she would take part in.

  However, Vye had one last doubt.

  “Wouldn’t this be a little controversial?” Vye chose her words carefully. “It feels like we are building the nation on Fraxian flesh and bones.”

  Xeta turned his head. Vye realized it wasn’t just sparks in his eyes. Were they a flare of anger? Or were they a glint of tears?

  “Look around you, Vye,” said Theo Xeta, his voice trembling lightly. “The nation is already built on Fraxian flesh and bones. What’s a few more vials of cells if they could buy us freedom?”

  Vye fell into silence.

  The orb slowly stopped spinning. The dream world faded away, grounding Vye back into reality. Xeta stood motionless beside her, his eyes no longer glowing. In the far corner of the room, Skull Mask continued to fight against the chains, seemingly oblivious to what had just unfolded.

  Vye looked out the window. The city seemed different now. She studied the stone and concrete of each building, the cement veins of the roads, the metallic shimmer of the scuttling automobiles, and the amber glow of the gas pipes.

  She knew work, not the kind sung in slogans, but the kind etched in blood. She recognized the scream of workers slipping from scaffoldings, the jagged scars of limbs mangled by machines. She knew the dull thuds of bodies falling from heatstroke, every thump they made against the pavement.

  She also knew the jobs her mother took on after her father’s departure, the kind that whitened her hair in days. She dreaded the work her brother would face if she failed to repay their debts.

  Theo Xeta was right. The city stood tall on Fraxian flesh and bones.

  “Well, I have stated my case,” Theo Xeta said, sliding something across the table. “The decision now lies in your hands.”

  Vye picked it up. It was a loaded gun.

  She stared at Theo Xeta, then at Skull Mask.

  “Like I said,” Xeta said. “If you work for me, there will be violence, and there will be times when you have to cross the line.”

  “You want me to kill him?” she motioned to Skull Mask, catching the dilated pupils behind the metal holes.

  “All I’m saying is you will have to kill in the future,” Xeta said. “As for now, I don’t want to make you do anything. The choice is all yours. Kill him. Don’t kill him. Hell, you can try to shoot me.”

  “What is the point of all this?” she said, exasperated.

  “Can’t you see, Vye?” Xeta leaned in. “The kind of work we will do, it doesn’t leave room for orders. It’s your job to figure out what needs to be done. And it’s your job to get it done.”

  Vye brushed her finger over the dark metal, feeling the icy grip of the revolver kissing her palm. So this was why Xeta reached out to her, huh? He wasn’t looking for a henchman to follow his orders. No. If he wanted loyalty, he could pick from Miles and probably many more, whether they be ex-Stormrunners or ex-cops.

  No. He wanted someone nobody could expect. Nobody would suspect Vye, not even the higher echelons who ordered his assassination. Truth to be told, she had not even anticipated her own change of heart.

  Vye turned the revolver in her hand slowly, balancing it across her fingertips. So this was her final test. The assassination had proved her skills. Their debates had revealed her beliefs. Now, could she read Xeta’s mind?

  Whatever he was planning, he must be expecting intense scrutiny. This went beyond the typical plausible deniability, erasing paper trails or keeping his hands clean. He did not even want to risk a tainted thought.

  But the consequence was also clear, too evident to be a trap. Should anything go wrong, she would become a rogue agent acting on her own delusions, a perfect scapegoat that could never lead back to him.

  She did not need to raise her eyes to feel the silent pressure of both men watching her. For a second, she considered dropping the gun and getting the hell out of here. But she knew, once she descended that elevator, she could never reach this height again.

  She looked at Theo Xeta, then Skull Mask.

  Then back again.

  “You are bold,” Vye muttered, her grip tightening. “I’ll give you that.”.

  “It takes boldness to do what needs to be done.”

  Vye blinked. Her mind raced. She lifted the gun. This was the turning point, the answer to her problems.

  So she aimed and pulled the trigger.