Chapter IX

                    ~  The year 2120  ~


Blazerine rides through the futuristic cityscape on her sleek motorcycle, equipped with an advanced AI system that monitors the road and traffic conditions. Her smart helmet flashes with warnings of potential dangers, but she pays no attention. She prefers the thrill of speed and risk. She swipes the touchscreen on her digital dashboard and selects the sport mode. The motorcycle responds by changing its shape and position, lowering the handlebars, and raising the footpegs to optimize its aerodynamic controls. She zooms towards her destination, leaving behind a trail of orange neon lights on the horizon. 

Blazerine parks in a dark, narrow passage between tall and dilapidated buildings. Some are graffiti with gang-related affiliations from drug dealers to hackers, where surveillance and control are absent. She removed her helmet and hung it over the left handlebar. Then she reached into her back pocket to grab a compact disc. Clicking open, it projects a beam that creates a holographic image of makeup from a wide selection. After choosing 'Starry Night.' (It's a fluorescent glam that glows in ultraviolet light.) A laser gently and precisely applies coloring to the skin by using nanotechnology with biodegradable materials. 

She walks towards the nightclub called Gamma Rayon. The glass facade of the building has a special coating that creates a transparent illusion, but it's impossible to see what's inside without entry. The entrance is guarded by a humanoid robot that has a built-in biometric scanner that verifies your identity and age. It also can detect any signs of intoxication, aggression, or weapons. About seven feet tall with a muscular metal body which is adorned with a name badge called Gamma. She saw one raver trying to sneak past without showing his ID.


"Excuse me, sir. You need to show your identification to enter the club." Gamma said in a calm, yet authoritative voice. Being rude goes against the bot's personality protocols. 


He flashed his wrist nonchalantly, revealing a faint outline of a microchip freshly embedded beneath his skin. The tiny device stores the user's personal information and transmits it wirelessly. 


Gamma's blue led eyes turned red when the sensors recognized the data from the club's blacklist. Zane Cass was a notorious troublemaker who had been banned for starting fights and stealing drinks. 


"Sir, you are not allowed to enter." 


Zane panicked and tried to rush to the doorway, but Gamma snatched him by his hoodie. Then lifted him up in the air to prevent him from running away again.


"Sir, please calm down. You are under arrest for trespassing and identification fraud. A signal of this location has been pinned to the authorities."


Gamma resumed duty by checking the next person in line. All the while, Zane cursed and struggled to break free, however, he was no match for the machine's strength. 


As she approached Gamma, Blazerine brushed off the angry mutters and glares of the customers who were eagerly waiting to get inside. She gave Gamma a casual wave, signaling her VIP status, and continued to walk through the entrance lined with mirrors. The LED lights created an illusion of floating into a void. The DJ stands on a floating platform above the dance floor, surrounded by holographic screens and controls. He wears a cybernetic headset that connects him to the club's sound system and allows him to manipulate the music with his mind. He mixes genres and styles, creating sonic landscapes that match the vibe, along with the lighting visual effects.


Blazerine scanned the bar and spotted her target. He was sitting alone at the far end, clutching a drink and tapping nervously on his wrist device. His beard was unkempt and his leather jacket was worn out, but they did nothing to hide his tense expression and darting eyes. He was clearly out of place among the partying crowd. She sauntered over and slid into the seat next to him.


"What's on the tap today?" 


"Water." He looked back at her with a mix of confusion and suspicion. 


"Water?" She raised an eyebrow, "That's so boring. How about I buy you something stronger?" 


She signaled to the humanoid bartender and ordered two shots of tequila. 


He shook his head, "No, thanks. I'm good." 


She pushed one of the shots towards him, “Come on, don’t be shy. It’ll loosen you up a bit.” 


He glanced at his wrist device, “I really can’t. I have to go soon."


“Go where? You’re not leaving me, are you?”


Ignoring his obvious discomfort, she leaned in closer and felt something hard under his jacket. She smiled inwardly, wondering which idiot was the one who put a bounty on an undercover cop. 


"Just my luck..."


She tilted her head back and let the amber liquid flow into her mouth. The alcohol seared her throat like liquid fire, spreading a warm glow in her chest and stomach. She winced and shuddered, then slammed the empty glass onto the counter with a loud clink.


He stared in disbelief as she downed his shot after hers. He wondered what secrets she was concealing behind that reckless smile, or what sorrow she was trying to erase with alcohol. 


He felt a cold metal touch his neck and instinctively tensed his shoulders. He lifted his hands slowly, not daring to turn around. A voice from the back of the room broke the silence.


 “Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Mr. Haven.” 


Haven recognized the voice and forced a smile, “Zenfeni. Long time no see.”


Blazerine watched the scene with a calculating gaze, looking for a way out. The metallic sphere which replaced Zenfeni's left eye, wearily locked onto her. It had a thin wire that connected it to a small device behind his ear. It gave him an enhanced vision, allowing him to zoom in, see in the dark, and access various data streams. She knew his cybernetic eye was his most valuable asset. He could easily incriminate them because it has a built-in camera and recorder that captured everything he saw. 


“So you’re the notorious Blazerine. You’ve left a trail of corpses behind you, more than I can tolerate.” Zenfeni uttered.


“You’re in the bounty hunting business?” Haven asked with astonishment, “How do you sleep at night knowing you’re chasing down people for money?”


Blazerine smirked, “I sleep just fine, especially when I catch my prey.”


Zenfeni annoyingly waved his gun, "What is with all this sexual tension?"


The second he looked back at Haven, Blazerine slid her hand inside the sleeve of her coat to snatch the pocket knife from the hidden slit. She inserts her finger into the hole to rotate the blade out of the handle. All in one quick motion, she slices the thin wire that's connected to the small device behind his ear. The neural interface that linked his cybernetic eye to his brain now goes offline. He felt a jolt of electricity run through his skull, while he disorientedly stumbles back. Blazerine and Haven leaped behind the bar counter, narrowly escaping the barrage of bullets that sprayed from the blind man's trigger-happy gun. 


"Knives, really?" Haven scrutinize. 


"What? They're quiet and efficient." Blazerine retorted. 


“Quiet and efficient for what? Slicing cheese?” Haven mocked. 


Haven could hear the glass bottles shattering right above their heads. He reached for his gun and checked the magazine. He had six shots left. He took a deep breath and waited for a lull in the gunfire. Then he popped up from behind the counter and fired three rounds at Zenfeni's men who had just stormed the club. He saw one of them fall to the ground, clutching his chest. The others returned fire and he quickly hid again. 


The terrified DJ fell on the floor, blood seeping from his chest, he looked at Haven with a pale and feeble grin. He gave a weak thumbs up to show he was okay with a strained smile, then a bullet pierced his skull.


“We’re dealing with a guy who can sense our every move. We need something more powerful than knives.” Haven finally spoke up. 


“Like what? A plasma rifle?” Blazerine asked sarcastically.


“Maybe. Or maybe a grenade. Or maybe a flashbang. Anything that can distract him long enough for us to get out of here.” 


“Fine. You have any of those things on you?” 


“No. Do you?”


“No.”


“Then we’re stuck with knives.”


"Great."


Blazerine had a collection of them hidden inside her coat, each one specially crafted for a different purpose. Preferring the silent and precise method, however, today the approach would have to be quite different in the long range. Without delay, she handles several knives that are balanced enough for throwing.


 "Cover me!" 


The command in her voice made Haven involuntarily react. 


She sprang out from behind the counter and flung a knife with unerring accuracy at the nearest gunman. The blade whistled through and lodged itself deep in his jugular vein. Blood spurted out as he collapsed, clutching his neck. One by one, the rest of the Zenfeni’s men met the same fate, dropping to the ground without a sound. Then she spotted the man himself; Zenfeni, across the room. Her last knife flew through the air, spinning and glinting in the dim light. It hit its mark, but instead of piercing flesh, it bounced off metal. Zenfeni had a bulletproof vest hidden under his shirt. 


Blazerine realized the mistake she had made but it was too late. A sharp, searing pain exploded in her left shoulder as if someone had stabbed her with a hot iron. She looked down and saw a dark red stain spreading across her blouse. Then she barely had time to register the second shot before it hit her, knocking her off her feet.  She fell to the ground, trying to breathe, but it felt like her lungs were on fire. 


Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to safety. She looked up and saw a familiar face, Haven. 


"I'm alright... After him - escaping - get out - still can - leave - no worry." She wheezed, trying to focus on her words, but they sounded like gibberish. 


"You saved my life, how can I just abandon you now?" He took off his pants belt and tightly wrapped it around her chest to reduce blood flow. Next, he slipped out of his shirt and tied it around her shoulder wound. 


She felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. She wanted to stay awake, but she couldn’t. She closed her eyes and drifted into unconsciousness. Then a jolt of movement awoken her briefly enough to comprehend she was being carried outside to a car. She felt dizzy and nauseous by the time she was placed in the back seat. 


"Where - where are you taking me?" She groaned. 


"To the hospital, where else do you think I would?" He remarked, "You're losing too much blood." 


"No - no hospitals." She insisted. 


"What!?" He wondered if she was starting to become delirious, "You have to." 


"Pull - pullover." She insisted, "Just leave me by the curb somewhere." 


"You would rather die than be arrested!?" He began to argue, but she had passed out again.  


He glanced at the rearview mirror and saw her lying there, looking pale and breathing shallowly. He reached for his phone piece in the passenger seat and voice dialed the only number he could trust. A familiar voice answered. 


"Hello?"


"Tabs, it's me. I need your help."


"What's wrong?"


"It's Floyd. He's been shot. I'm taking him to your place."


"What? How did that happen?"


"I'll explain later. Just be ready for us. And don't tell anyone."


"Okay, okay. I'll be waiting. Be careful."


He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he sped through the streets.


Tab's apartment was sleek and minimalist, with smart windows that adjusted the lighting and temperature according to the occupant’s preferences. The walls were covered with interactive screens that displayed anything from art to news to entertainment. He tapped one of the screens to activate the door camera, which projected a hologram of its surroundings, including the hallway. Haven was holding something that was covered up halfway by his jacket. After confirming who it was, he gave door access to let him in. 


"That looks awfully too big to be a dog." Tabs uttered, "Is it another transplant job?" 


Blazerine felt a cold metal surface under her back as she was strapped to the operation table. A robotic arm loomed above her chest, holding a scalpel that gleamed menacingly. Instinctively she reacted by struggling against the tight straps that secured her limbs and head. 


"Don't worry about it," Haven replied.


"Hey if this partnership going to work at all. We need to at least established trust." Tabs whined. 


"Just hurry up and do your job." Haven insisted.


Blazerine heard Tab's voice,  telling her to relax and count backward from ten. She tried to protest, but a mask covered her mouth, pumping gas into her lungs before everything eventually went black. 

Tabs placed a bracelet around her wrist which can measure anything from the pulse, the heart, or the respiratory rate. He controlled the robotic arm to perform the surgery by directing it with a 3D-projected hologram. The arm lowers and makes an incision around the entry wound. The scalpel switched out to a pair of forceps to pull out the bullet. He did this without damaging any vital organs or blood vessels.


"How's it look?" Haven lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke fill his lungs and then escape through his nostrils. 


"She'll live." Tabs said, "And you did well. This is the closest one to Adelaide yet boss." 


Haven hesitantly examined Blazerine's face, "I agree. What's the success rating?" 


"Let's see..." Tabs pushed up his glasses, "About 65% give or take. May be able to bump it to 75% after recovery." 


"That high, huh..." Haven took another thoughtful drag as the glowing tip burn down. 


At the other end of the operation table, laid a briefcase. He lifted the lid, revealing the cybernetic brain nestled inside. It was a masterpiece of engineering, a complex network of circuits that mimicked the function of the human brain, but with enhanced capabilities. It could process vast amounts of data in a fraction of a second and learn from any experience that's been uploaded to its memory banks.


With meticulous sutures, Tabs sealed the wounds. Then he pulled a rollable medical cabinet over to himself. 


"My robo arm doesn't have the right equipment for dicing bones. I'm gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way."


 He opened the third drawer down and set out a bone saw. 


Haven quietly stepped out onto the balcony, overlooking the city while he continued to smoke, lost in his thoughts. 


"Boss?" Tabs spun around in his chair and looked over at him, "What? You're getting cold feet already? She's the last fugitive on the list." 


"She could of minded her own business..." Haven voiced, "But she ended up saving my life." 


"What are we going to do with her then?" Tabs sighed, "You're going to just let her go? You know, if she ever finds out we initiated the hit ourselves, she's going to be pissed."


"Let her go?" Haven exhaled a puff of smoke, "On the contrary... It would be a waste of skills. Delete the transactions, and leave no trace. While you are at it, throw an anonymous thirty-digit bounty on top of her head. She'll just assume it's from Zenefeni." 


"That's cold boss." Tabs slid himself over in front of his holodeck computer and started typing away. 


Haven gave a low chuckle, "Welcome to Irving Corp... Blazerine." 


---


For two long years, Blazerine had been isolated on the desolate island, living off coconuts and fish. The harsh sun and salt water had eroded her clothes, leaving her skin vulnerable to the elements. She had to improvise new attire from the flora she encountered. A palm-leaf skirt that swayed around her legs and a vine belt that cinched her waist. Her chest was supported by a makeshift bikini top from two palm fronds that she tied securely behind her back. She gripped the wooden shaft of her spear and scanned the horizon for any sign of movement. 


She had been tracking the herd of boar for hours, hoping to catch one off guard... Stayed patient and stealthy, or else she would scare them away and return empty-handed. She eyed a younger male that's lagging behind the rest. It's limping slightly from a recent injury. A surge of adrenaline overtook her body as she crept closer. Waiting for the perfect moment...then it came. She leaped out and hurled her spear with a fierce cry. It sliced through the air and slammed into the boar’s side, ripping its flesh and shattering its bones. The beast dropped with a deafening thud, shaking the earth. The other boars fled in terror and confusion. 


When she pressed a foot against its body to help yank the spear free, a dark shape appeared in the ocean. She squinted her eyes a few times before realizing it was a ship. Was it a mirage? A hallucination? Or was it real? If it was... she didn't want to risk getting noticed by making a fire. 


A weary sigh escaped her lips when she looked down at the struggling boar. She wasn't a fan of eating raw meat, but the circumstances left her with no other choice. She stabbed a makeshift knife in the boar's neck, hoping to hit a vital spot. The boar squealed and thrashed, but did not die still. She stabbed again and again until the boar stopped moving. She was covered in blood and sweat, panting and trembling. Too hungry to wait, she tore a chuck of meat from the boar's flank, ignoring the dirt and hair. She bit into it, feeling the warm blood and raw flesh in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, savoring the taste of life. 


From the hill on the cliff-side, Blazerine watched the captain order his crew to lower the anchor and prepare the rowboats. What were they doing here? Perhaps they were looking for a place to rest and replenish their supplies? She saw something unhuman in one of the boats as they drew closer to the island. 


"What the hell is that...?" 


Whatever it was, the body was mainly covered in scales of various colors, from crimson to emerald. The eyes were slitted like a reptile's, and the teeth were sharp and fanged. The pair of wings sprouting from behind were without a doubt large enough to take flight - if it weren't for the chains. Regardless of how powerful this hybrid dragon man looked, he was a captive prisoner. 


"Just when I thought I got used to being alone again." 


Blazerine left the ledge and returned to the kill. She wasted no time in carving out the juicy chunks of flesh, aware that the scent could lure other predators. She wrapped the meat in broad banana leaves and secured them with vines. Then she stuffed the leafy parcels into her pouch and headed back to the cave. 


In the cave; Blazerine stirred the ashes of her firepit, making sure there were no embers left. Then she scattered them all around the cave floor, mixing them with dust and dirt, hoping it would look natural enough. Once satisfied, she squeezed through the narrow opening in the wall that led to a small chamber. The interior would have been dark if it weren't for the faint glow of bioluminescent fungi. 


The moment Captain Skinner’s boots touched the soft sand, his cheerful expression turned into one of dread. He gazed at the pile before him: a heap of fish bones and empty clam shells, stained with blood and slime, that revealed the presence of an inhabitant on the island. 


The following day; Blazerine was jolted awake by the sound of a tree crashing to the ground. She knew this island like the back of her hand, but these strangers were going to be here way longer than she expected. They slaughtered animals, chopped down trees, and ignited bushes. Although Blazerine couldn’t decipher their language, she sensed they were searching for something, and that something might be her if she was not too careful. 


Every day, the virus plagued her not only physically but mentally. Her sense of time was no longer entirely reliable, not that it was much to begin with. The headaches made her sleep for hours on end. What felt like two days was already a week in reality. Sometimes, she felt okay in small bursts. However, the more she moved, the worse it got. She knew that the day she stopped moving was the day she accepted death. Sometimes, she wondered if she would be better off not knowing what to expect. Would it make the process easier or harder? Knowing what’s coming versus playing the waiting game. She’s never been a very patient person, at least when it comes to certain things. Knowing where the finish line is can either make or break a person. Would you rather finish early or late, if at all?


 'Personally, I would rather skip the whole thing altogether, for I only know how to live moment to moment, minute by minute, hour by hour. It’s not the ideal lifestyle, but for those who have ever felt pain, it’s a way to cope.' 


She had set up a place on the island, just in case she ever wanted to end it all. It was just a noose hung from a single tree on top of a hill. Her body could return to the earth eventually after being consumed by wild animals or whatever happened to come by. Not that she was spiritual or anything, but somehow it seemed peaceful and not as wasteful. 


'For kicks, some of the men hung the hybrid dragon from the noose just to watch him struggle for a while. There are times when you can simply turn a blind eye to injustices in the world. You feel as though you should help, but ninety-five percent of the time, the outcome isn’t worth it. However, my guilt always finds a way to outweigh any logical consequences of my actions.' 


The sun was setting, casting long shadows through the trees. A figure crouched behind a large tree, hidden from view. The figure was holding a spear, its tip sharpened to a fine point. The figure’s eyes were fixed on a group of people moving through the jungle. They were laughing and talking, completely unaware of the danger lurking nearby. The figure waited patiently, watching as the group drew closer. When they were within range, the figure sprang from behind the tree, brandishing the spear. The group was taken by surprise, and before they could react, Blazerine plunged the spear into one of them. The man felt a searing pain shoot through his body, causing him to gasp for air. His eyes widened with shock and disbelief as the world around him seemed to spin. He could hear the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, along with the faint murmur of his attacker’s voice. He tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound escaped his lips. He knew he was dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Blazerine tried pulling the spear out of the man’s chest with a sickening squelch, causing more blood to gush from the wound. She gritted her teeth and pulled harder, feeling the spear scrape against bone as it came free.


Then she raised the spear high above her head, taking aim at the noose that hung from the branch. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing all her energy on the task at hand. With a fierce cry, she brought the spear down in a swift, powerful arc, slicing through the rope with ease. 


The hybrid dragon man opened his eyes to the sound of screams and the smell of blood. He sat up, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of what was happening. In front of him, he saw a group of men being slaughtered single-handedly by a female human. 


As more men closed in on her, the hybrid dragon felt a surge of protectiveness rise up within him. He knew he had to help her, no matter what the cost. With a fierce roar, he charged at the men, his claws and teeth bared. The men were taken aback by his sudden appearance, and for a moment, they hesitated. That was all the time the hybrid needed. He lunged at them, his hand was a strange mixture of human and dragon, with rough, scaly skin and razor-sharp claws. The fingers were long and slender, tapering to sharp points at the tips. The knuckles were thick and bony, with a web of leathery skin stretching between them. The palm was broad and muscular, with a network of veins pulsing just beneath the surface. As the creature flexed its fingers, the claws glinted in the light, sending shivers down the spine of anyone who saw them. Despite being mostly covered in chains, he still could hold his own. He slashed through the first pirate's throat, spraying blood all over the nearby trees. The poor guy never had a chance to even scream. One by one, the men fell, until there was no one left to fight. 


Standing there, covered in their victims’ blood, they exchanged looks. 


"It's my noose. I never said anyone could borrow it." 


The hybrid flashed a grin, revealing his forty teeth. They were long, sharp, and curved. Some of them formed a U-shaped arc, with a slight gap between the upper and lower jaw. Blood dripped from his clenched lips as a new tooth pierced through the gums. He spat out the broken one as if it were nothing but a baby tooth. 


"Traveler... you are my savior." He spoke with a raspy voice, and a puff of black smoke escaped from every syllable.


"Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable. They'll realize they're missing soon enough, along with you." She shrugged, not caring about the chaos she had left behind.


The hybrid's eyes locked on her with intensity. His left eye was human, but his right eye glowed with a yellow-amber hue, like a dragon's.  


"I am..." He wheezed, "Ledral the Firestarter. Sentenced for torching twenty-five neighboring cities."


"Jeez, I don't want to get on your bad side," Blazerine muttered as she walked past him. 


"Not fond of formalities?" He asked, "How else can I repay my respect?" 


"Look, here's the deal." She turned back to him, "I don't care who you are or what you've done. As long as you can help me get off this damn island." 


“Reasonable,” He replied, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “A dragon knight always repays his debt and in full. But to harness the potential of my strength, I require assistance first. These ‘hex-lash’ chains must be removed.” He gestured to the dark metal links that bound his wrists and ankles, glowing with a sinister red light. 


"Well, sorry to say, but I'm not gifted in the arts of wizardry. Is there anyone else on the ship that is capable of such an ability?"


"There was one..." He chuffed, "But the captain had him thrown overboard." 


“That’s great,” She continued to lead him away from the dead; to get him to safety. “I didn’t plan on being a stowaway on a ship - let alone a pirate ship. There's no way we could fight that many people. It would be suicide." 


“And what you did back there, wasn’t?” He asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. He stared at her with a mix of amusement and admiration. 


“Salutations, Blazerine,” He greeted, bowing slightly.


"You're pretty polite for a fugitive."


"As are you." He smiles conceitedly. 


Blazerine felt a pang of fear, but she quickly composed herself before taking action. She threw her spear at Ledral, hoping to distract him long enough for an escape. He simply caught the spear in mid-air and threw it right back. She quickly rolled to the side, avoiding the spike by a hair's breadth. 


Before she could fully grasp or react to the situation, he lunged at her. His huge claw wrapped around her neck and hoisted her into the air. She wondered why he didn’t just kill her by piercing his nails through her flesh. 


"Why do you pretend to be a villain cloaked in heroism?”


She might have replied if she had the opportunity. But her mind and gaze were fixed on the hand that clamped her. The more she struggled, the more it squeezed, and her involuntary motions grew more frantic in flight or fight. 


“They tremble at the mere utterance of your name, Blazerine—the harbinger of the world’s demise.” His grip loosened, and she struggled to regain her poise, coughing as if expelling the weight of his revelation.


 “What do you mean?” She coughed. 


A thunderous explosion shattered their conversation. She sprang to her feet, peering over the ledge. Below, a second ship hurled cannonballs at the vessel already anchored near the island.


Despite Ledral standing mere inches behind her, Blazerine remained unperturbed by his actions. If he harbored any intent to kill her, he could have executed it effortlessly by now. Friend or foe, it held little significance in the present moment.


Whether it was a misfire or not, a cannonball struck the base of the ledge, jolting the ground beneath her. She teetered on the edge, perilously close to tumbling over, but Ledral’s firm grip on her waist prevented her descent. 


Blazerine’s pulse raced, adrenaline surging as she dangled on the precipice. The world had narrowed to the feel of Ledral’s fingers, firm and unyielding around her waist. For a fleeting moment, she met his eyes—dark, inscrutable pools that held secrets. Gratitude warred with suspicion. In that fragile balance between danger and salvation, Blazerine wondered if she’d just traded one peril for another. The island’s chaos echoed around them, but her focus remained on the enigma before her—the dragon man who had defied her expectations and kept her from the abyss. And as the cannon smoke dissipated, leaving only the scent of gunpowder and uncertainty. 


He mentioned, "It might be in your best interest to wait for the outcome of the battle." 


The island won’t survive much longer if we—” The deafening impact of yet another cannonball reverberated through the air, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Ledral’s strong arms encircled Blazerine, hoisting her off the collapsing ledge. Without hesitation, he sprinted in the opposite direction, their lives hanging in the balance as the island crumbled behind them. She clung to him, torn between vulnerability and defiance. 


Eroded cliffs, once steadfast guardians, now crumble into the abyss below. Jagged rocks, worn smooth by ceaseless waves, jut out like ancient teeth, gnawed by time.


Ledral, though unable to fully extend his wings for flight, cleverly harnessed the currents. The gusts swept through the narrow gap between his wings, lifting them both. They descended, not in a plummet, but in a controlled glide. The island’s chaos churned around them, but for that fleeting moment, they were weightless—a pair of fugitives riding the wind toward an uncertain fate.


Once their feet touched solid ground, the tremors of the island's collapse still resonated through their bones. Ledral released her, his expression was inscrutable. Blazerine plunged into the sand, face-first. 


She raised her head and spit out the gritty grains from her mouth, "Thanks for the head's up..." 


He said nothing in return.


She furrowed her brows and muttered under her breath, “Why do these people keep showing up? It seems like there’s something that’s attracting them here suddenly.”


He scoffed and said, “You’re slow, aren’t you? They’re after you, Blazerine.” 


The third ship hurtled toward the shore, its relentless speed showed no signs of slowing. In an unspoken pact, they both bolted, hearts pounding.


“Let’s assume I believe you,” She shouted, her anger echoing across the crashing waves. “How the hell did they pinpoint my location, and why now?!”


Breathless, they hunched over, having escaped the ship’s path. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out to Blazerine. Stunned, she stood there, watching as the ship sailed past, eager to discover who had uttered her name. Whoever it was had jumped off, too impatient to wait for the ship to stop first. Their steps were slow and uneasy, then gradually broke out into a full sprint toward them. 


Black hair, green eyes, and a crooked smile—she recognized him instantly: Fenix. Her heart leaped as she saw him running towards her, ignoring the chaos around them. She sprinted to meet him halfway and threw herself into his arms, holding him tight.


“I found you,” Fenix whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. He smiled and kissed her forehead, never wanting to let her go. 


Blazerine’s eyes brimmed with tears as she exclaimed, “You’ve found me!” The relief in her voice was palpable. “I thought I would never see you again!”


Fenix managed a wince, feigning agony from Blazerine’s playful jabs, though he secretly relished the familiar banter.


Her laughter rang out, clear and bright. “I’m guessing those guys aren’t part of your welcoming committee?” She teased.


Fenix’s grin was all confidence. “Don’t fret, my dear. My crew will take care of them,” He reassured her with a wink.


“Your crew?” Blazerine arched an eyebrow. 


With a flourish, Fenix puffed out his chest. “Let’s just say I’ve climbed a few rungs on the ladder of success in your absence,” He declared, a hint of pride lacing his words. 


“What?” There was a note of surprise in her voice as Fenix assessed the length of her hair with a gentle pull.


“Is that dragon knight part of your entourage?” His gaze drifted involuntarily towards Ledral’s brooding stare. 


"Yeah... sort of." She shrugged.


“You there, dragon knight,” He called out, “You may board my vessel for safety until further notice.”


With a courteous bow, Ledral accepted Fenix’s offer. At Fenix’s signal, Sir Phil unfurled a rope ladder from above. The trio ascended with haste and upon their arrival, the reception was a tapestry of awe and apprehension. While Blazerine’s formidable presence sent a ripple of fear through some of the knights, Ledral’s majestic demeanor left most utterly spellbound.


“A dragon knight?!” one squire exclaimed, his voice a cocktail of wonder and disbelief. 


“What a day, what a day,” Yeldir exclaimed, perched on a crate.


“W-what? Yeldir is here too!?” Blazerine stammered.


“You’ve seen better days,” Yeldir observed.


“Well, what do you expect when you’ve been stranded on a desert island for a year or two?” Blazerine complained.


“Two?” Fenix echoed. “No, it’s been almost six years.”


“What?!” Blazerine gasped.


Sir Brion, ever the pragmatist, cut through the murmurs. “Enough with the staring; we’ve got pirates to dispatch,” he commanded, ushering his men into action. As they passed by, each of the five Templars bowed respectfully before Ledral.


Blazerine remarked with a touch of irony, “It seems someone has quite the fanfare.”


"Dragon Knights are ascended Templars who were given the chance to obtain the ability of magic through consuming either the flesh or blood from the very first dragon known to mankind," Yeldir explained. 


Fenix countered sharply, “It’s tantamount to a death sentence. The survival rate of the ritual is very minuscule."


Ledral started, “Not all humans are endowed with magic at birth. We often envy what we cannot possess and are willing to go to extraordinary lengths to obtain it. Isn't that right wizard?" 



Yeldir concurred, “Indeed, that’s one perspective. He has slighted us, hasn’t he? It seems his intention was to make a point.”


Ledral reflected, “It appears he has reached the age of derangement. Wizards are deemed more venerable as they impart generational knowledge only at life’s end—often, most reluctantly.” 



"Speaking of which..." Blazerine crossed her arms, "I'm guessing this wasn't just a regular recuse, considering you somehow got Yeldir to leave his tower." Her face was streaked with dirt and sweat, but her eyes held a glimmer of determination. 


Fenix chuckled, “Nothing’s ever easy when it comes to you, gal. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up first.” He gently nudged Blazerine along, her gaze still fixed on the ongoing fight. Suddenly, one of the knights plummeted to the ground.


“Are you sure -” Blazerine began.


“Nah, they’re fine,” Fenix reassured. “Trust me.”


For now, she would trust Fenix’s words. They were her anchor in this chaotic world—a reminder that even when everything seemed impossible, there was always a way forward.


The lukewarm water washed away the grime, revealing a face that had seen both triumph and heartache. Fenix studied her, his gaze tracing the intricate network of ebony veins that marred her skin. Like ink spilled on parchment, it reminds Fenix that life is not flawless. Each vein tells a story—a chapter in the book of her life. The twists and turns represent moments of joy, sorrow, and resilience. He imagines tracing those veins with his fingertips, feeling the echoes of laughter, tears, and whispered promises. But like a silent witness, she bore the testimony to a life eternally entwined by an approaching death. 


Blazerine sank into the clawfoot tub, the water embracing her like a long-lost lover. Her hair, once wild and tangled, now floated like seaweed around her.


 Fenix knelt beside the tub as he gathered her wet locks. With each snip, a memory fell, the moment they first met, the night they both got pissed drunk and lastly, when they got caught up in the rain. 


Blazerine closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation—the cool steel of the scissors, the warmth of Fenix’s touch. She wondered if memories could be cut away like excess hair, leaving only the essence of what remained. The past clung to her, stubborn and unyielding, but perhaps this act of release could help set her free. 


“I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.


He looked at her with steady eyes. “I’m listening,” he replied, his tone grounding her fluttering nerves.


She took a deep breath and confessed, “I’ve made a great mistake, one born of ignorance. I should’ve seen the signs… The real Leon, the man I thought I knew, would never have done such a thing—especially not with someone like me.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, “He revealed his true identity to me. He is Damas, the guardian from the legends Yeldir spoke of. He’s eluded death all these years by transferring his essence from one vessel to another.”


“So Leo is—” He started, but the gravity of realization cut him short.


“Dead… yes,” She exhaled the word like a burdened sigh.


Without a word, Fenix reached out, his hand gently resting atop her head in a comforting gesture. “Don’t blame yourself. He preyed upon you during a moment of vulnerability,” He said softly.


A shadow of doubt crossed her face. “I’m not sure if he’s still on the island. It’s been years since I last saw him. It's like he vanished as if into thin air.”


Fenix’s gaze hardened with resolve. “If he’s out there somewhere, we will find him.”


"What are we going to do with him?" 


Fenix's hands stilled, "In honor of Leon's legacy, I shall ensure justice is served. To allow his reputation to be tarnished in such a manner is beyond forgiveness."


"What has happened while I was gone?" 


The very affliction that plagued you now ravages the lands. Instead of life-giving rain, black droplets fall. Rivers cease to flow, and trees wither. Where once there was vitality, now lies a barren wasteland. Lyrist believes you might hold the key to halting its advance—by reabsorbing it into your own body.”


“I understand his reasoning. The virus is a part of me; perhaps I can stabilize it again.”


“But what if it worsens your condition?” His voice persisted.


Blazerine stood just beyond the edge of the clawfoot bathtub, her silhouette etched against the weathered wood paneling. Outside was a desolate expanse of blue waves and churning clouds. 


 “I don’t want you to!” Fenix yelled, his arms encircling her from behind, anchoring her to the boat’s creaking floor. 


 “We’re all dead if I don’t,” Her voice was raw from the weight of their predicament. The virus, once dormant within her, threatened to consume everything. She had become a vessel for both salvation and destruction.


The boat rocked, and Fenix’s grip tightened. He wasn’t used to being serious—it was a vulnerability he rarely showed. But here, in this confined space, he's stripped of his usual playfulness and bravado. 


Gently, Blazerine laid her hand atop his arm, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin. "I miss you too." She confessed with a smile. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a little girl with curious eyes barged in. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice a mix of innocence and authority. She looked between Blazerine and Fenix, her small hands planted firmly on her hips.


Blazerine and Fenix exchanged a glance, the tension momentarily broken by the unexpected intrusion.


“We’re having a grown-up conversation...” Fenix said gently, trying to mask the gravity of the situation.


The little girl pouted, clearly unimpressed. “Well, it doesn’t look like fun. Can I stay?”


Fenix chuckled despite himself, loosening his grip on Blazerine. “Maybe later, kiddo. We’ll come find you when we’re done, okay?”


The girl huffed but nodded, her curiosity still piqued. “Okay, but don’t take too long!” With that, she spun on her heel and skipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly open. 


"She's still with you?" Blazerine raised an eyebrow. 


Finally letting go, he said, “I know what you're thinking, but first, here, I have something for you,”  He reached into a nearby chest and pulled out a bundle wrapped in soft, dark fabric.  She watched him unfold the bundle, revealing finely crafted clothes and armor. The deep, rich blue fabric was adorned with intricate silver embroidery that shimmered in the dim light. The funny thing about it,  the clothes were designed for a man, but the armor was custom fit for a woman. Lightweight yet sturdy, designed to offer both protection and mobility. 


He helped her into a tailored tunic. Next was a versatile vest which offered an additional layer of protection. She yanked up the trousers that felt tough and yet flexible. They were reinforced at the knees and other key areas to ensure durability during combat or travel. She strapped around the belt that's made from high-quality leather and featured several pouches and loops for carrying essential items. It was both functional and stylish, with a silver buckle that matched the other metallic details. Then she slipped into a pair of boots made from tough leather with reinforced soles, ideal for long journeys. Lastly, to complete the outfit, Fenix included a cloak made from a soft, yet durable fabric. It was the same deep blue as the rest of the outfit and featured a silver clasp that held it securely in place. The cloak provided additional warmth and protection from the elements. 


Fenix gave a nod of approval, "Good, now let's see how the armor fairs." 


The breastplate was forged from tempered steel. It molds to Blazerine's form, emphasizing her lithe build. The central ridge channels force away from her vital organs. The backplate mirrors the front, overlapping slightly to safeguard her spine. Pauldrons guard her shoulders, their overlapping plates resembling dragon scales. Her arm guards extend from the pauldrons, encasing her forearms. Their articulated joints allow fluid movement, crucial for wielding a sword. Beneath the gauntlets, she wears supple leather gloves. Tassets hang from her waist, overlapping like fish scales. They shield her hips and upper thighs, allowing freedom of movement. Her cuisses—thigh guards—extend down to her knees. Their riveted plates will flex if she lunges or pivots. Greaves protect her shins, their fluted design echoing the architecture of ancient castles that have grown familiar to her. Straps secure them in place. And her sabatons, armored boots, have pointed toes for better balance. The coldness of the chainmail-inspired hood piled around her shoulders. 


Before he could hand over the helmet, she placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Is this really what you want? You could have had a different life, you know?”


He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get sentimental on me now, gal.”


Her eyes narrowed, “I’m serious. This isn’t a game.”


His gaze softened as he looked at her. “I found something worth protecting.”


“That little girl?”


He shook his head again, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s not all.”


She frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes. 


“You,” he said quietly. “You mean more to me than you realize.”


“Me? Even if it’s all a lie?” she whispered, her voice trembling.


He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hand. “Especially if it’s all a lie. Because in this world, you’re the only real thing I have.”


She looked down, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to say.”


He smiled softly, “Thank you is a good start.”


She let out a shaky laugh, trying to hide her emotions. “Pssh… whatever, thanks, I guess.”


He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “What? I didn’t quite hear you.”


She took a deep breath, her voice steady this time. “I SAID THANKS...." He handed her the helmet, his fingers lingering for a moment before he turned and walked back into the corridor. She clutched the helmet tightly to her chest, her heart pounding as memories she thought were long buried began to resurface. 


~ The Year 2125 ~


The alley was bathed in the glow of neon signs, their flickering lights casting eerie shadows on the wet pavement. The hum of distant hovercars filled the air, blending with the occasional hiss of steam escaping from nearby vents. Haven and Blazerine reached the end of the alley, where a heavy metal door stood slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, Haven pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of electronic equipment. Screens lined the walls, displaying streams of data and surveillance footage. In the center of the room, seated at a cluttered desk, was Tabs; his vibrant hair shifted colors as he worked, fingers dancing over a holographic keyboard.  His body is coveered with intricate tattoos that glow faintly in the dark, and he has multiple piercings, including a few that serve as additional data ports for quick access to some devices. 


He didn’t look up as they approached, but his voice was clear and confident, "What took so long?" 


Haven chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. “Traffic was a nightmare. You know how it is.”


Blazerine studied him closely while they made some small talk. It was the very first time she had seen Tabs in person. His eyes were augmented with retinal displays, giving him enhanced vision and the ability to see digital overlays in real-time, including a neural interface that allows him to connect directly online. 


"Third time this month… How many more times do you plan on moving?" Haven’s voice carried a mix of exasperation and curiosity.


Tabs smirked, “As many times as it takes to find the perfect spot to hijack these signals.”


Tabs reached underneath his cluttered desk, his fingers brushing against a medium-sized package. With a sigh, he cleared a space on top by pushing aside a jumble of empty cups and greasy pizza boxes. The package, now in his hands, seemed to promise something more interesting than the mess surrounding him. 


“Is that—” she began, her eyes widening, “a M.S.?”


“A mind sync helm,” Tabs confirmed, chewing his gum thoughtfully before blowing a bubble. “Goes for a hefty price on the black market.” His casual tone belied the gravity of the item in his hands.


Haven looked over the helmet and asked, "Still functional?" 


"The bio feed back sensors are fried, but that's just for monitoring physiological responses, such as heart rate and brain activity. Other than that, the voice modulation and neural interface is normal." Tabs explained, "The advanced algorithms can alter or erase specific memories, replacing them with fabricated ones that align with the Ajana's ideology." 


“Do you even understand what’s at stake here?” Haven snapped, “This isn’t just another one of your reckless stunts.” 


Blazerine’s hand hovered over the chip. She felt a familiar knot of frustration and doubt tightening in her chest. Why does he always treat me like this? His voice is, stern and commanding, like a parent that's trying to scold their child for misbehaving.  


Haven’s expression hardened, the tension between them palpable. “We can’t afford any mistakes and that includes you." 


“Fine..." her voice tinged with irritation, I’ll be waiting in the car.” She turned on her heel and walked out, not waiting for a response.


Haven leaned against the wall, his eyes distant as he watched Blazerine leave. 


“She’s got spirit, I’ll give her that,” Tabs remarked, trying to lighten the mood.


Haven sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s more than just spirit. Every time I look at her, I see… her.”


Tabs nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. “You mean your daughter." 


Haven’s gaze hardened, a mix of pain and determination in his eyes. “A perfect replica of my daughter, down to the last genetic detail. But Blazerine… She’s her own person, with her own thoughts and feelings. And sometimes, I forget that. " 


Tabs had always been a pragmatic thinker, balancing his scientific curiosity with a strong sense of ethics. When Haven first mentioned the possibility of transplanting his deceased daughter’s brain into a clone, Tabs felt a mix of intrigue and apprehension. On one hand, the idea was a groundbreaking scientific endeavor. The potential to transfer consciousness and memories from one body to another was a concept that fascinated him. It could revolutionize medicine and offer new hope to those suffering from terminal conditions or severe injuries. However, Haven couldn't ignore the ethical implications. The thought of merging two consciousnesses—one from a deceased person and one from a living clone—raised profound questions about identity, consent, and the nature of personhood. Fearing, that the transplant might not bring the closure he sought. Instead, it could create a new set of emotional challenges, blurring the lines between past and present. Ultimately, Haven might have come to understand that he needed to accept his daughter’s death and move forward. 


Blazerine clutched her head in agony as the helmet slipped from her grasp. Bright lights seared her vision, and memories surged back with relentless force. The boundaries between her world and this one were beginning to blur. The voices of Tabs and Haven drifted in and out of her mind, witnessing an event she hadn’t even been part of. Her gaze kept refocusing on the cybernetic brain, which monitored every single word spoken.


Shortly, her vision began to clear, the searing lights dimming to a manageable glow. She took a deep breath, grounding herself as the memories settled into the recesses of her mind. The voices, leaving a lingering echo. Her gaze steadying on the cybernetic brain. It was still there, but its presence no longer felt overwhelming. She blinked a few times, shaking off the last remnants of confusion. The boundaries between her world and this one finally solidified, bringing her back to the present. With a determined look, she reached for the helmet, ready to face whatever came next. 



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