Buried in the wreckage of a Compound meant to imprison her, Faine awakens a shell of her former self. With no memories and a growing taste for revenge, she is given the ultimate decision.
She must save the city, or herself.
Round One 》✅️ 2k 》✅️
R...
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Navigating through Mithlis reminded her of the puzzles she did as a child on restaurant menus. The blocks twisted and turned in unnecessary ways, but it gave her a substantial amount of distance from Saesin's home.
Occasionally she would see someone from the Guard speaking with a passerby on the street, but she never noticed any alarm. People frequently offered them smiles as if they had no clue what was wrong on the island.
Faine stalked through the streets calmly, keeping her head down and away from any surveillance systems that might not operate with magic. She had other tricks for the crystalline systems, using the smoke and shadows to manipulate the light around her.
Eventually, she found herself down the cobblestone streets of the Compound once again.
Faine hated the way her boots scraped over the exposed stones, despite their beauty. They had turned slick with rain and although the colors were more vibrant, she wasn't pleased with the added difficulty.
Glass skittered across the ground with the growing breeze, the blown out windows and deformed walls a portrait of the wreckage. Burnt paper and ash drifted through the air as the storm darkened above, electrifying the atmosphere.
She blew out a breath, her hair fluttering away.
Even if paper and technology alike had been corrupted and burned, Faine was certain she could find something among the destruction to prove her theory.
Stepping over the frames of a broken doorway, Faine tried not to shudder as she entered the building. After a few days had passed, the wind cleared the first floor's musty scents.
She expected to see red tape and Guards lining the streets. There were no vehicles, no investigators, and the entire premises appeared void of life.
Faine scoffed to herself. Everything was painfully obvious. There were no investigators because there was nothing to investigate and with Naisene taking accountability for the explosion, no one would question their findings.
The first floor was a wreck with every bit of paper and data destroyed.
She knew that meant she would have to go back down to the medical bays at the very least. Possibly farther.
A wave of nausea churned in her stomach, but she bit back the acidic taste and shoved a deformed chair out of the way. Faine traced her fingers over the scorch marks along the stairwell, turning down a hallway. The walls turned slick underhand as they transitioned to tile, white replacing the dark gray.
The sliding glass doors were blown out, although one creaked ominously as it continued to slam into rubble. Repeated blows had made a significant dent in the beam blocking its path, but still the gap only opened about three feet.
Faine sucked in her gut and held her breath, cramming herself through the small space as jagged bits of metal snagged at her jacket. Awful wafts of death and spoiled chemicals filled the room, worst near the molten cabinets that were now deformed towards the back.
