Chapter 6:

  Runaway Getaway

  Inside a softly humming elevator, two figures stood: Edmond and Angelica.

  "Shouldn't we have Ianthi come with us?" Angelica asked her boss nervously.

  "She needs to rest. She won't be much help to us exhausted," Edmond dismissed. "And by the time the others arrive, it'll already be too late. Every second counts right now."

  "But will it be okay with just the two of us?" she asked, her eyes downcast.

  Edmond never gave her an answer.

  Angelica’s pale face betrayed her unease, concern etched into her brows as she fidgeted with her hands. Her boss, in contrast, remained stoic, his weary eyes locked onto the screen before him. The moment Angelica informed him of Canaria’s abrupt radio silence, he had sprung into action, leveraging the extensive network he had painstakingly built through years of experience working in the Guild and managing Arca Archa.

  Among the intelligence he unearthed was something that set his jaw tight: an underground bounty on the capture of Canaria, alive only. The payout was obscene— stacked with more zeros than Angelica could make in a hundred lifetimes. It was a fortune large enough to attract every kind of mercenary, criminal, and opportunist. For someone like Canaria, it was a death sentence in disguise. Even if she survived the day, this bounty would haunt her every step, turning her life into a living nightmare.

  Angelica broke the heavy silence, her voice sharp with urgency. "That park! Look!" She pointed at the screen, her eyes widening. "I know that statue— it’s next to the playground by Aria’s work! There’s an old man there who always pushes an ice cream cart!"

  Edmond’s brows furrowed as he pieced together the information. "Fighting broke out here earlier this afternoon," he mused aloud. "Gang war? No... the signs of artes usage are too distinct, and there aren’t any Arcanians named among the casualties. Could they have gotten ACDs through the black market? Wait a minute…"

  His focus sharpened as his eyes landed on a specific vehicle captured in a street camera snapshot thirty minutes before the skirmish was reported. A flick of his hand sent the image to Skarvig, who remained in the office to keep an eye on the situation. Less than a minute later, he was pinged with a low-resolution photo of a man carrying a blue-haired girl into a house. He also received a message from the Alf:

  "Nassim Road. I'll send you the address. How sloppy, fleeing from a crime scene without even changing vehicles once."

  "Lucky us," Edmond muttered, opening a map that displayed the car’s route and eventual destination.

  Angelica looked at him in awe. She was amazed at how quickly Edmond found Canaria, however she was just as confused how he managed it. "How did you know to track that vehicle in particular?" she asked.

  "Just a hunch," Edmond replied, his tone casual. "It’s a manual."

  "Manual?" Angelica was confused. "As in one of those vehicles you have to drive yourself? Aren't those illegal?"

  "Only on public roads," Edmond corrected. "They must have chosen it thinking it wouldn't leave a digital trail. Fortunately for us, they didn't account for cameras being everywhere. It's not too difficult to trace a vehicle as long as you have access to the right tools."

  Edmond swiped at the screen, closing it. Right on cue, the elevator chimed softly and the doors slid open to reveal a dimly lit garage. Angelica trailed closely behind Edmond, her steps short and quick as she sought to keep her eyes on Edmond's screen.

  "Hey, Boss, where are we going?" Angelica soon asked, head swiveling as she glanced around. "The company vehicles are in the other direction."

  As if to give an answer to her question, the sharp blare of a car horn echoed from the shadows ahead. A sleek vehicle revealed itself from the darkness, one Angelica had never seen before.

  "Other side," Edmond directed as he approached the door.

  "Huh? Oh," Angelica murmured absentmindedly, following his instructions. As she climbed in, her eyes widened in surprise. "Wait… what kind of vehicle is this? It's so cramped and all the seats are facing the same direction— what is that?" she pointed, her voice rising in alarm, "what is that for?"

  Edmond followed her gaze to the steering wheel. Placing a hand on the rim, he gave her a faint and weary smile. "Well, I can't drive without one of these, can I?"

  …

  A notification from Skarvig lit up Edmond’s phone as the car shot out of the garage:

  "The canary is out of the coal mine. I’ve pinned her location for you. I've also notified the others."

  "Didn't you just say manuals were illegal to drive?" Angelica cried as the car accelerated, throwing her against the seat. Edmond's driving was precise but aggressive— every turn, brake, and acceleration jostled her like a rag doll. She was positively terrified.

  "Only on public roads," Edmond repeated calmly.

  "This is a public road!" Angelica shot back, her voice cracking.

  "Not where we’re going." Edmond’s response was curt, his focus unbroken as he weaved through traffic with unnerving precision.

  Angelica clutched at her seatbelt. "I’m going to be sick…" she choked.

  In response, Edmond rolled down the passenger side window. "Just puke outside," he said, just as he made a sharp turn that caused the car's right wheels to momentarily lift off the ground. Angelica screamed as the vehicle righted itself with a heavy thump, her knuckles white as she gripped the door handle like her life depended on it.

  An eternity seemed to pass before the car slowed at all. Angelica dared to lift her gaze, finding herself staring at a gated entrance leading to an underground tunnel.

  "The Guild service tunnels?" she asked, her voice trembling with nausea. "But how are we going to get in?"

  Saying nothing, Edmond rolled down the window before flashing his phone at a scanner. The gate began to creak open, revealing a long passage that stretched far beyond view. "I know a guy," he said simply.

  As the car rolled forward into the tunnel, Angelica’s earlier terror faded, replaced by a growing admiration for her boss. These underground tunnels were quite legendary, a network connecting every corner of Singapore, designed to allow the Guild to deploy swiftly to any location in the city. And now they were going to make use of them to rescue Canaria!

  …

  …

  Once again, Canaria ran. She ran as though her very life depended on it.

  —Her life did depend on it.

  The chaos behind her was a cacophony of shouts, booms, and crashes, but it grew fainter as she pushed herself harder. Streets blurred together as the facades of unfamiliar houses, vehicles, and storefronts streaked past. She was still in Singapore, that much she knew, but where exactly? It did not matter. Stopping to ask for help was not an option. Fear had gripped her too tightly and refused to let go. Adrenaline urged her forward with a singular thought: Keep running. She must not stop.

  In the ruined courtyard that she left behind, Sophie faced the Executor.

  "I shall give you one last chance to step aside," the Executor spoke coldly, standing like a monolith, draped in layers of shadowy fabric. The air hung heavy with an electrifying tension between him and Sophie.

  The seconds ticked away, with no change in Sophie's demeanor. Those words had fallen into deaf ears. Sophie's lips curled into a smile. She licked her lips as her eyes gleamed with unrestrained excitement. She could not help it, she was a pureblood Arcanian through and through. She loved the fight and the fight loved her.

  "Very well, then let you meet your fate by an Executor of God," he announced.

  "Come on!" Sophie shouted gleefully, launching herself forward with a speed that turned her into a blur. Her legs swung across the air in an arc of devastation. The kick collided with something imposing yet unseen. There was a ripple in the air— before the moisture condensed around the barrier, momentarily outlining the Executor's spherical shield. The shockwave rolled outward, scattering dust and debris, yet the Executor remained untouched.

  Sophie's grin widened, her pupils dilating. "Oh, this will be fun," she purred.

  Without missing a beat, she twisted her body midair, her other leg swinging down like a pendulum. Her heel slammed against the barrier with earth-shattering force, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then, the ground erupted with cracks that spiderwebbed outward, racing along the dirt and pavement and up the wall of the mansion nearby. The Executor's barrier sank into the fractured earth, dragging them with it.

  "It's quite sturdy," Sophie frowned, dropping to the ground gracefully. As she landed, a hiss of steam rose from the ground. Her ears twitched, catching a faint rumble in the air around the crater. She narrowed her eyes, muscles tightening instinctively.

  Before she could react further, the Executor raised his hand, and the ground beneath her feet began to warp. The pavement buckled, twisting as if they were alive, forcing Sophie to dart sidewaves to evade the jagged spikes of earth that shot upwards in her wake. Her movements were quick and swift, yet agile enough to maintain her footing even as she was forced to make awkward movements to keep herself in one piece.

  "Not bad, your artes are quite powerful," she mused, a spark of genuine respect coloring her tone as she kicked off a newly formed spike and somersaulted backwards through the air. "As I thought, you're not using an ACD, are you?"

  The Executor did not reply in words. Instead, he extended both arms outward. A low hum resonated through the courtyard, and Sophie suddenly felt the air around her grow heavier. Sophie’s instincts screamed. During the midst of her airborne arc, she suddenly dropped straight down, towards a cluster of earthen spikes. She hissed, spinning around in the air and kicking off the tallest spike, narrowly avoiding being turned into a skewer.

  She bolted forward, carried by the moment of the kick and closed the distance between herself and the Executor in the blink of an eye. Her clawed hand flashed and she slashed downward, aiming for the barrier. But before she could strike, the earthen spikes around her shattered, multiplying into countless spears that quickly swarmed to fill the space in front of Sophie, blocking her strike against the barrier.

  That was not all. The jagged spears of earth swarmed Sophie in an instant, surging towards her like a murderous school of piranhas. Her eyes widened momentarily— not in fear, but exhilaration. A sharp grin split her face as she settled into a fighting stance.

  "Very good!" Sophie declared, her voice ringing like a battle cry. She planned to meet the attack head-on. Her fists moved like lightning, each strike efficient and lethal, making zero wasted movements. The moment the spears entered her reach, her fists lashed out, pulverizing them with deadly precision.

  Her strikes carried such a raw, primal power that they left vacuums of air in their wake. Each vacuum collapsed with an explosive crack, sending shockwaves that obliterated any nearby spears. The air filled with the symphony of destruction, the explosions, and the rain of pulverized stone shards falling around Sophie like gravel. Her fists never wavered, each movement accompanied by flashes of brilliant energy. A dozen, a hundred— perhaps thousands of spears shattered against her relentless assault before the onslaught finally began to taper off.

  The Executor tilted his head slightly. The shattered fragments of earth did not fall harmlessly to the ground. Instead, they reformed midair into smaller but sharper needles, now faster and more numerous, launching at Sophie with renewed ferocity.

  "Tch, persistent!" Sophie clicked her tongue in irritation, abandoning her stance. She darted forward, her body a blur of motion as she zigzagged between waves of the deadly needles. Leaping into the air to gain distance, she suddenly felt an invisible force seize her mid-flight, as though unseen hands had grabbed hold of her limbs.

  Sophie growled, crossing her arms over her face as a surge of energy erupted from her body. The shockwave shattered her invisible shackles and collided with the approaching projectiles, reducing them to harmless dust scattered by the wind. Twisting midair, she landed with feline grace, yet her expression was marred by an unmistakable frown.

  "I wanted to finish this without using artes," she muttered, pouting as if genuinely disappointed while patting dust from her clothes.

  "A Kaplan…" the Executor murmured softly after witnessing the display of power. "I see. My error was in assuming the distinction lay solely in your unusual hair. You are no mere Felid. You are too powerful, too dangerous— too heretical… It is my sacred duty to extinguish such heresy from this Earth."

  The Executor clenched his hand, and the atmosphere around them shifted. Dust swirled and scattered as an oppressive cold gushed from where he stood, devouring the courtyard. Frost raced across the ground, creeping over the shattered remains of the battlefield, freezing both earth and sky in its wake.

  Sophie whistled softly as the temperature flipped like the mood of a temperamental child. "So, it’s the cold this time, huh? Charming."

  The Executor did not reply, merely waving a hand as a blast of icy wind surged toward her. Sophie winced as the frost stung her skin, the hair on her arms beginning to freeze. She tried to roll out of its path, only to find her feet trapped in ice that had spread across the ground.

  "Tricky, aren’t you?" Sophie muttered, glaring up at her adversary just in time to see him gesture again. This time, he wrenched a tree from the earth, roots and all, launching it toward her.

  Sophie clicked her tongue, holding her ground as the massive trunk bore down. With a ferocious strike, her fist split the tree in two, the force sending splinters flying in every direction.

  But there was no time to celebrate. The Executor ripped an entire section of the mansion from its foundations, hurling it toward her. Sophie cursed, raising her arms to shield her face as the colossal debris crushed her beneath its weight.

  The Executor stood still, watching the rubble intently. His patience was soon rewarded. The heap of wreckage exploded outward as Sophie burst free, shooting into the air like a missile. As if anticipating her response, he summoned more chunks of the mansion, launching them one by one with relentless dedication.

  Sophie dashed across the courtyard, her movements a skillful dance of speed and agility. She twisted and weaved through the storm of debris, never once being caught. But the Executor was undeterred. With a sweeping motion, he gathered the swirling dust and debris into a dense tornado around himself. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the storm exploded outward, cloaking the battlefield in an impenetrable veil of dust.

  Sophie skidded to a halt as her heels dug into the frozen dirt, her expression darkening. "Troublesome," she muttered, her ears twitching. She could see about as much as a scholar without glasses!

  Her muscles tensed instinctively, and she leapt straight up into the air just as a massive shadow crashed into the spot where she had been standing moments earlier. Another shadow rushed at her midair, forcing her to twist and narrowly evade the strike.

  "This damn cold…" she swore under her breath. The numbing chill was slowing her reflexes. One of the shadows clipped her leg, sending a jolt of pain shooting up her side.

  With no time to rest, more projectiles hurtled toward her. This time, Sophie did not make any evasive maneuvers. Bracing herself, she let one strike her, absorbing the impact with her legs. Using the momentum, she sprinted along the surface of the debris and leapt toward the center of the storm.

  Realizing her intent, the Executor adjusted his aim, launching more chunks of debris to block her path. But Sophie was too agile, darting from one piece to another like the nimble tigress she was. Just as she gained momentum, he clenched his hand, causing the debris beneath her feet to explode.

  The shockwave flung Sophie towards the ground, but the Executor had already accounted for the possibility. With another motion, he hurled her higher into the air, keeping her suspended where she was most vulnerable.

  The Kaplan was too dangerous when she could move freely on the ground. She could vanish in a burst of speed, fleeing or coming near the barrier in an instant. Conversely, she was much more limited in what she could do without a proper foothold.

  Sophie snarled in frustration, her hair flailing as she was juggled between invisible forces and relentless projectiles. The stalemate seemed endless— neither could land a decisive blow.

  —Or so it seemed.

  "You're really starting to piss me off!" Sophie roared, her voice echoing across the battlefield.

  The Executor tilted his head slightly, as if in quiet contemplation. With a subtle gesture, he directed his focus skyward.

  Sophie’s ears twitched as she caught the faint, rhythmic pulse emanating from above. Her eyes flicked upward, narrowing as they tracked the shimmering air above them. The pulse grew louder, reaching a deafening crescendo as the atmosphere condensed into a singular point above the courtyard.

  With a brilliant flash that momentarily blinded Sophie, the air ignited, blowing away the dust storm. A miniature sun blazed to life, its molten surface roiling and rippling like liquid gold under waves of water. Its searing light spilled across the courtyard, casting long, warped shadows as it hung ominously in the sky.

  "What the hell—" Sophie began, but her words were cut short as an invisible tidal wave of force slammed into her, ripping her from the air and hurling her toward the blazing orb.

  Twisting mid-flight, she clawed at a chunk of floating debris, carving deep grooves into its surface as she fought against the pull. Finally, she latched onto a bent lamp post jutting from the rubble, its metal groaning under the strain but holding splendidly under the pressure.

  "Foolish Kaplan," the Executor intoned, his voice solemn and absolute. "May your sins be cleansed by the flames of the Lord."

  With a flick of his fingers, the Executor unleashed another pulse of force. This time, the entirety of the debris Sophie clung to trembled and flew toward the orb, carrying her with it.

  Sophie hit the miniature sun with a force that sent shockwaves rippling outward, rattling across the battlefield. For a moment, the inferno roared to life, swallowing Sophie whole within its fiery embrace.

  The Executor stood unmoving, his veiled head tilted upward, watching the flames dance as if satisfied by the offering. Yet as seconds stretched into minutes, his calm demeanor betrayed a growing sense of unease. Despite the inferno’s searing heat and relentless churn, a sense of tension lingered in the air, gnawing at the Executor's certainty.

  However, no creature alive could withstand that purgatory, he reasoned.

  Alas, doubt is an insidious thing. A shred of nervousness crept in behind that shadowy veil. The Executor rose into the air, approaching the miniature sun. Then, like a droplet sinking into a basin of water, he slid seamlessly into the flames.

  The interior of the sun was blinding, its light emitting off every atom, creating a disorienting haze. Visibility was poor, but as long as the barrier did its job shielding him from the orb's consuming heat, the Executor was not in a hurry— not that he expected to find anything to begin with. By all rights, the Kaplan should have already been reduced to ash.

  The sun trembled.

  A shadow moved within the swirling inferno.

  Before the Executor could react, the figure lunged. A resounding impact rang out as Sophie slammed against the barrier, her clawed hand dragging sparks across its surface. She was unscathed.

  The Executor's composure wavered. "Why do you not burn?" he demanded, his voice still calm but tainted by disbelief.

  Sophie chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. Flames clung stubbornly to her clothes and hair, yet neither blackened, smoldered. Instead, they seemed to shimmer, alive, and thriving in the inferno rather than succumbing to it. "You ask why a fish does not drown or why birds do not fall from the sky," she said, her grin widening into something feral. "Why do I not burn? That is because I am a Kaplan! You wish to burn a Kaplan's fighting spirit with this pathetic heat? How brazen! Today, you shall learn that the legends of the Kaplan were indeed not exaggerated!"

  With a shout, Sophie pressed her palms against the barrier. Unlike before, the barrier began to give way, trembling under the sheer force of her will. It was not a punch, not a kick, not even an arte. This was the result of her pure, unadulterated strength! Cracks that seeped in the heat of the inferno spiderwebbed across the surface of the barrier in an instant.

  Panic flickered in the Executor's movements. With a hurried gesture, he dispersed the orb of flames hanging in the sky. The inferno dissolved in a cascade of embers, and not a moment too soon. The barrier shattered like fragile glass under Sophie's brute strength, the shards dissipating into nothingness.

  The Executor plummeted from the air.

  But Sophie would not let her opponent escape so easily. Kicking off the very air itself, she descended like a meteor, her heels driving into the Executor’s torso with earth-shattering force. The ground beneath them cracked and buckled, exploding outward in a cloud of dust and debris. When the dust began to settle, Sophie stood victorious, towering over her fallen foe.

  "I shall remember what you have done this day, Kaplan…" The Executor's distorted voice whispered, not from the body, but from the wind.

  "Hmph, if you're going to be a loser, don't be a sore one," Sophie looked up, shrugging. However, the Executor's voice was long gone.

  The fierce fighting spirit faded from her body like a passing storm, leaving her in a buoyant mood. She squatted beside the Executor’s head and poked it with her fingernail guard. There was no response. A mischievous smile spread across Sophie’s face as she leaned closer. Her fingers slid beneath the veil, lifting it away.

  What lay beneath caught her off guard. Sophie’s sharp eyes widened slightly, her grin faltered, being replaced by something closer to curiosity. The face— or what should have been a face was utterly featureless— no eyes, no nose, no ears, nothing. She wondered how the Executor managed to track her without eyes. Then again, even if he did have eyes, it would be pointless with that heavy veil covering his face.

  For a moment, Sophie was struck by an unsettling thought. Perhaps that was the face of an Arcanian stripped of everything that defined them. She imagined a scaleless lizard, a featherless bird, a hairless cat. Her imagination took a darker turn— a hairless cat not just shaved, but burned of its fur, declawed, defanged, its nose and ears cut off, eyes gouged, bones reshaped to mimic something human.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Was this the Executor's true face? Or was this the price to pay for the use of the Executor's powers? Either way, it did not seem like AJ survived the possession.

  She shook her head to dispel her thoughts, rising to survey the battlefield. The entire property was a smoldering ruin. "Yikes," she muttered, brushing dust from her clothes. "Let’s get out of here before the cops show up."

  …

  …

  "B-Bus!"

  Canaria's lungs burned, but then she saw it: a bus stop, illuminated like a beacon in the dusk. Relief flickered as she recognized the bus route listed there— one that could take her back to a part of the city she knew. She slowed to a brisk walk, doing her best to blend in with the sparse crowd as she approached. Keeping her head low and body hunched, she could keep herself hidden among some of the taller Arcanians waiting there. It was the most nerve wracking few minutes of her life as she waited and waited for the bus to come. A minute felt like an eternity as her body flinched at every accidental bump and her eyes darted to every sound.

  When the bus finally arrived, as it should, when it should, Canaria let out a shaky breath.

  She moved with the other passengers to board but became horrified at the payment terminal, her hands freezing over her pockets. A lump formed in her throat. Her phone was gone, left behind in the chaos with AJ, and without it, she had no way of paying her fare.

  "You look like you've been through hell, dear." The warm, caring voice startled her. An elderly woman behind her frowned sympathetically, looking up and down at her ragged state of affairs. "Lost your phone, have you? Don't worry, I'll cover it. You just find yourself a seat and settle down."

  "Thank you," Canaria whispered earnestly, barely able to meet the woman's kind gaze. She took a seat in the back corner of the bus, huddling against the window while keeping an eye on everyone who boarded. It was only when the bus began to move, merging into the flow of traffic, that she allowed herself a moment to breathe, though her chest remained tight. She could not shake the unease clawing at her from within.

  She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts that were still in a frenzy due to the recent chain of events. Sophie's intervention had saved her life, and Canaria was thankful for that, as prior to it, she had nearly given up any hope for freedom. She was grateful, yes, and extremely so. But still, the question remained. Why? Why did Sophie help her? What sort of person risked their own neck for a stranger and– if Canaria were to understand it correctly– all for a movie role, no less? None of it made sense, she thought, her fingers gripping her seat.

  Then, murmurs rippled through the passengers.

  "Is that a person?"

  "We’re on the highway! How can anyone be running that fast?"

  "Wait… he’s chasing the bus!"

  Canaria's eyes snapped open, and her stomach twisted with a sense of dread. She leaned toward the window just as a blur shot past the edge of her vision. The bus jolted violently, a loud thud resonating from the roof.

  Before Canaria could process what was happening, the screens inside the self-driving bus flickered to a glaring red. A critical error message flashed across every route display and advertisement. The bus jerked forward, accelerating sharply and slamming passengers back into their seats. Nervous chatter turned to frightened murmurs, but the unease soon escalated into outright panic as a window shattered. A man leapt through the opening with unnerving ease.

  Screams erupted, mingled with shouts and curses.

  The man paid no heed to the chaos he had caused. Instead, with a certain casual calmness to him, he drew a weapon– a handgun so massive it looked more like a part of heavy machinery than a firearm– and shot a single round into the ceiling. The deafening crack silenced the bus instantly, as if he had just cracked a teacher's whip in a classroom full of children.

  "Pipe down," the man barked, his gravelly voice rough yet authoritative. His dull brown eyes sparked with an intimidating ferocity. He stood tall, his weather-beaten features hinting at a life spent toiling under relentless skies. Even from her seat at the back, Canaria could see the deep creases lining his face under the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat and sun-bleached hair. Beneath his brown-striped poncho, layers of equipment gleamed faintly: holstered weapons, pouches brimming with ammunition, and the skeletal framework of an exosuit wrapped tightly around his body.

  Everything about him screamed danger.

  The man scratched his scraggly beard as his gaze swept across the silent passengers. Satisfied with their compliance, he holstered his gun and began to walk, each heavy step drawing audible gulps of relief from those he passed. Step after step, he drew closer to Canaria until he finally approached the rear of the bus. Though he had yet to address her, she knew exactly who he was after.

  Finally, he stopped in front of her seat. Canaria's blood ran cold.

  "Howdy," he said, his voice deep and scratchy as he removed his hat with a practice flourish and placed it over his chest. "Name's Ethan." His body language, deliberate yet unhurried, carried a strange mix of politeness and menace— a brazen courtesy that seemed utterly at odds with each other.

  However, Canaria's heart raced. No amount of courtesy, brazen or otherwise, could mask the fact that this man had just fired a gun to silence the crowd. He was dangerous— lethal. A terrorist if she ever saw one, and that was all she needed to know.

  "This spot taken?" Ethan asked, motioning to the seat beside her. Canaria remained silent, and he took her lack of response as an invitation. "Do you mind?" he added, withdrawing a torpedo-shaped cigar from one of the many pouches on his vest.

  "And if I told you I did?" Canaria asked dryly, rhetorically.

  Ethan chuckled, a low, gravelly sound at her answer. "Mexican wrapper. Nicaraguan tobacco. Pre-rift. Very hard to come by these days," he said, holding up the cigar as though he were a sommelier presenting a prized wine. Nipping the tip with his nails, he lit the end with a snap of his fingers. Once the flames died down to smolders, he put his lips on the cigar and drew in the smoke deeply, filling his mouth but careful not to inhale it. He exhaled a plume of smoke that filled the air with a heady aroma. "Notes of nutmeg, Belgian chocolate, coconut, and a hint of cherries" he mused, savoring the flavor.

  Canaria’s throat tightened at the smoke, but Ethan leaned back in his seat, completely at ease.

  "Now, Lass, I’m going to be perfectly blunt with you," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I’m a bounty hunter, and there’s quite a pretty penny tied to your name. Too pretty for me to look the other way, too pretty for me to let someone else cash that in. That being said," he paused, taking another puff of his cigar, "I’d hate to be rough with a lady as dainty as you. But it’s been a long day, and I’m not in the mood for any funny business, you hear me? Don’t force me to do anything we’ll both regret."

  He gestured casually with his cigar, waving the end toward the other passengers. The silent crowd watched with wide, fearful eyes. Canaria took the hint.

  A Bounty hunter.

  Her mind reeled as his words sank in. AJ’s warnings about her status as the world's most wanted person had prepared her for the possibility of pursuit, but hearing it firsthand from a man out to claim the prize on her head was another thing entirely. First, it had been the church fanatics drugging her so she could become Pope. Now this— a bounty hunter ready to cash her in to the highest bidder. What next? Ninjas? Pirates? Although she jokingly thought of these possibilities, she could not outright wave her hand and dismiss the idea that they may really show up.

  Canaria’s voice was steady when she finally spoke. "What are you going to do with me?" Scared though she was, she did not want to show weakness in front of this man. Besides, being held hostage twice in one day had caused her to become eerily familiar with the drill.

  Ethan’s grin widened, a flicker of amusement glinting in his eyes. "Straight to the point. I like that. Most folk start kicking and screaming the moment they lay eyes on me. Of course, some of my colleagues enjoy the screaming. Me? I prefer it nice and quiet. A man’s gotta be able to enjoy his cigar in peace, you know?"

  "It’s been a long day," Canaria muttered, leaning back in her seat.

  Ethan studied her with a mix of indifference and amusement. Something in her tone, perhaps the weariness layered beneath it, seemed to catch his attention. Without a word, he held out his cigar, an unspoken offer.

  Canaria hesitated but took it, her fingers curling around the unfamiliar object. She stared at it for a few moments, unsure of what to do. The acrid scent made her stomach turn, and her nerves got the better of her. She handed it back quickly, shaking her head.

  Ethan smirked, taking another slow drag. "Once your name’s on the bounty board, Lass, it doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done. It’s first come, first serve— a feeding frenzy. There’s no time to ask who’s right and who's wrong; who's a prize and who's not. If you’re on that list, you're game now. Whether you like it or not."

  He blew out a plume of smoke and gave her a wry smile. "But you can relax, at least for now. The bounty’s clear: alive and in one piece. Once I get my pay, what happens to you is none of my business. Until then—" his grin turned sharp— "you’re probably the safest person in Singapore."

  Canaria’s stomach churned at his nonchalant tone, but before she could respond, Ethan froze. His head tilted slightly, his gaze snapping to the window.

  The air seemed to shift. At first, the sound was faint— a distant, almost fly-like buzz. But within moments, it grew louder, surrounding the bus in an incessant, droning hum. It clawed its way into her ears, a sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

  Ethan’s expression darkened, his cigar dangling loosely from his lips as his eyes narrowed. "Well now," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "That’s not good."

  …

  As they sped down the highway, Ethan turned his head toward the window. His breathing slowed as a distinct, high-pitched whine cut through the rushing wind. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted the source— a sleek drone speeding ominously through the air, closing in fast.

  The drone breached a nearby window with a violent whirl of its metallic blades, sending shards of glass scattering. Canaria yelped and ducked instinctively as its whirring rotors sliced the air mere centimeters from her head. She pressed herself flat against the seat, her heart pounding as the image of the blades nearly scalping her was still fresh in her mind. Daring to look up, she saw the drone hovering inside the vehicle, a small camera on its underbelly focusing onto her and then the bounty hunter.

  "Hey there, bud!" The drone's operator spoke through a crackling speaker, his voice far too cheerful for the gravity of the situation. "How about a little teamwork? We both want the girl, so why not help each other out and split the bounty?"

  Ethan crossed his arms, his rugged face unamused. "Why would I work with you?"

  "Well, why wouldn't you? Come on, man! You don't need all that money. We could both retire somewhere nice. The Bahamas, maybe? Drinks on the beach?" The operator's tone remained irritatingly chipper, as if this were a casual business proposal.

  Before Ethan could respond, Canaria’s voice cut through the conversation. Sharp and accusing, she shrieked, "What are you doing? Some rescuer you are! You almost sliced my head off with that thing!"

  Her outburst was an act of desperation– a total shot in the dark– to sow discord between the two. She had no idea if it would work, but the last thing she wanted was for the both of them to start working together.

  "What—?!" The operator started, his surprise putting a damper on his cheery tone.

  Ethan did not give him the chance to finish. He lunged at the drone, swiftly grabbing it with one hand. With a grunt, he hurled it out of the vehicle, its rotors sputtering as it tumbled through the air. Before it could stabilize, Ethan drew his gun and fired. The crack of the shot echoed across the highway, and the drone fell in a smoking heap, shattering into scrap as it hit the asphalt.

  The bounty hunter barely had a moment to breathe before his gaze darted up out of the window. A swarm of drones descended from the sky like a flock of angry crows. They surrounded the bus in a coordinated formation, glistening sunlight off their lanky metallic frames. They were armed to the teeth, their firepower more fitting for a military battalion than some rogue operator.

  One of the drones opened fire, blasting the cigar in Ethan's mouth into smithereens.

  "You fucker!" The operator’s voice screamed through the comms, his cheerful tone replaced by rage. "She was obviously lying, and you lapped it up like a damn dog!"

  Ethan huffed, unperturbed. "Doesn’t matter. I ain’t the sharing type."

  "Goddamn muscle-brained—!"

  The operator's tirade was cut off as the bounty hunter fired another shot from his gun, exploding one of the drones right out of the air.

  "—That's it, you're dead meat!"

  Without another word, the swarm of drones opened fire. Every single one. Canaria dove to the floor faster than she could yelp and covered her ears in terror. Hellfire rained upon the bus, drowning out her screams in the deafening storm of bullets ripping through every available inch of the vehicle.

  "Shit!" Ethan barked, his body tensing as he assessed the situation. A faint shimmer of protective light flickered around him as the hail of bullets ricocheted off his body. The sheer kinetic force shoved him in all directions, but his exo-gear, the state-of-the-art aethertech exoskeleton he wore, absorbed the brunt of the assault. It protected him from harm as it tirelessly maintained the many complex layers of defensive artes covering his body, ensuring that he would feel little more than a faint sting from each bullet.

  Canaria, however, was a different story. She was exposed, vulnerable— and a dead bounty was a worthless one.

  Without a second of hesitation, Ethan reached into his tool belt and yanked out a rectangular baton. He hurled it onto the floor near the girl, where the device activated immediately, emitting a soft, aetheral glow. A thin, translucent barrier expanded outward, encapsulating Canaria in a protective dome.

  "Stay put!" Ethan commanded, his voice sharp and leaving no room for argument. "This ride's about to get a hell of a lot bumpier!"

  Canaria nodded frantically, her body trembling in fear. She did not dare test the barrier's strength— not with bullets whizzing past like hailstones. A stray shot struck the dome, deflecting harmlessly into the bus's interior. The sharp ping made her breath hitch, but it confirmed that the shield was working.

  Ethan, meanwhile, moved like a force of nature. Standing tall and unyielding, he fired back with revengeance. His weapon roared like thunder. Boom. Boom. Boom. The bus's cramped interior reverberated with each pull of the trigger.

  One drone exploded into fiery scrap. Then another. And another. Shrapnel rained across the highway as the bounty hunter's unrelenting barrage cut through the swarm like a scythe. The floor of the bus rapidly became littered with broken chassis that sparked and hissed from ruined circuits.

  Still, the onslaught never stopped or even faltered. For every one drone the man destroyed, two more seemed to take its place. With no regard to the numbers lost, the swarm pressed forward, cold and mechanical as it executed its killing order.

  —All the while, the passengers were being caught in the crossfire.

  Canaria's eyes were wide with horror as she witnessed the scene unfolding before her. The other passengers were like pigs brought to a slaughterhouse. They scrambled and scrambled for cover— but there was none. Whether they were human or Arcanian, the soft plush of the seats offered no resistance as bullets tore into the flesh of those hidden behind them. The blood of over a dozen passengers splattered across the walls, seats, and floor. Their bodies slumped lifelessly where they fell.

  It was a massacre.

  "No, no no…" Canaria muttered helplessly.

  Her chest tightened and tears stung her eyes. She wanted to pretend like none of this was real, shut herself off and drown out the noise, but reality sucker-punched her straight to the gut. Desperate, she screamed for the bounty hunter to protect the other passengers too, but her voice was silenced out by the roaring gunfire.

  A body collapsed next to her, still breathing. It was the old lady who paid her fare. Her chest heaved weakly as her terrified eyes met with Canaria's. "Help me," her silent lips read. She lifted a trembling hand towards Canaria, begging for help, only for her pale fingers to be met with the cold, impenetrable surface of the barrier. A stray bullet punched through her skull, splattering blood and brain matter across the floor.

  —It was too much.

  Canaria's lips quivered. Her stomach churned as bile rose in her throat. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" she sobbed, her voice little more than a quiet whimper, like the flame of a candle that would flicker out with the slightest breeze.

  —She wanted to make it all stop.

  Her hands pressed against the inside of the barrier– as if she could break through and reach the old lady– but it was meaningless. That which protected her, isolated her.

  —She had enough.

  She shut her eyes and pressed her hands to her ears, trying to drown out her senses. However, the sights, the sounds, the smells— it overwhelmed her. She felt nauseous. Her breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps. She had been through so much already, but this— this was breaking her. She could do nothing, only watch as these poor lives were being taken right before her eyes.

  …

  Ethan aimed at a drone and pulled the trigger. Click. His magazine ran empty.

  "How many of these fucking drones are there?" he growled angrily, enduring the sting of bullet impacts as he swapped out the spent magazine for another.

  That brief respite was all the enemy operator needed.

  A heavy drone smashed through the windshield, its rotors spinning like a buzzsaw. Coming unnoticed from behind, it slammed into him.

  Ethan let out a surprised grunt as the drone leaned in, its whirring blades grinding against his armor. Sparks erupted in a red-hot shower— though he could not tell whether they came from his exo-gear or the drone.

  "Get off me!" he snarled, seizing the heavy drone with both hands in an attempt to tear it away from his body. However, robotic arms extended from its chassis, latching onto his sides like a vice.

  The drone’s servos whined, attempting to overpower him. The metal frame screeched in protest as Ethan’s grip tightened. Then—

  CRUNCH.

  With a single, brutal squeeze, he crushed the machine like a soda can. Sparks and hydraulic fluid sputtered from the ruined chassis as its frame wrapped under his enhanced strength.

  Yet, triumph was short-lived.

  A flicker of blue light pulsed within the drone's crushed core. Ethan’s eyes widened, his muscles tensing. But he had realized too late what he held in his hands.

  "Got youuuuuu!" the operator's gleeful voice crackled from within.

  A sudden surge of aethereal energy erupted from the wreckage, snaking across Ethan’s body like vines made of lightning. He roared in pain, his muscles locking up as the electrical arte overloaded his exo-gear's protective systems.

  With an animalistic growl, he fought against the arte and hurled the drone out the window before it completely incapacitated him. Ethan slumped against a seat, his chest heaving as he regained his bearings. Critical alerts flashed across his HUD, and the warning system blared in his ears.

  "Damn pests," he muttered through ragged breaths, fumbling for a smoke grenade from his tool belt. He pulled the pin and dove under the seats as smoke bloomed to fill the bus’s interior. His personal barrier had taken a nasty shock, and though it was not fully compromised, it needed a moment to reboot— just like him.

  The operator's voice crackled again, confident, smug, and taunting.

  "You can't win this, cowboy! You must be feeling safe holed up under that shell of yours, but you and I both know your exo-gear won't last forever. Just give up the girl and run away! Or else I’ll be having some crab meat tonight! Hahaha!"

  "Not much of a crab guy," Ethan shot back, his voice low and humorless. "Too much work trying to get all the meat out."

  He pushed himself up and fired at a cluster of drones, his weapon roaring as they exploded into fiery scraps. "And you talk too much. Your voice is irritating my ears." He spat on the floor, brandishing his secondary weapon, a compact shotgun— perfect for pest control.

  "Have it your way, cowboy," the operator hissed with finality.

  The bus jolted violently as a truck slammed into its side, causing it to swerve. The autopilot fought to stabilize the vehicle.

  Canaria screamed, clutching the barrier stick as if her life depended on it.

  "What the hell was that?" Ethan shouted, grabbing a seat to steady himself amidst the chaos. He turned, shotgun at the ready, and aimed out the window. However, when he saw the truck, he quickly pointed the barrel down and fired at its tires. A fireball bloomed at the pull of the trigger, but a wall of drones surged in front of it, absorbing the hit.

  As the truck pulled away, the drones swarmed Ethan like vultures, closing in and picking at him with a relentless hail of bullets.

  It was at this moment that the bounty hunter staggered, feeling the sharp and abrupt drop in his exo-gear’s performance. Movements grew sluggish, less fluid, and the protection the barrier offered diminished to the point where each bullet struck him with a bone-jarring thud.

  "Shit!" he spat through clenched teeth, lashing out wildly with his arms in a desperate attempt to swat the drones away. They were too close for his shotgun to be effective.

  For the first time on this bus, panic flickered in the bounty hunter's mind. His earlier momentum was gone, and with there being no end in sight to the drones, he needed a plan— and fast.

  His thoughts raced. He glanced at Canaria, cowering within the shimmering barrier. He could grab her and make a break for it— but to where? No matter how fast his legs could take him, outrunning the drones was impossible. He would have to get rid of them first, but if he could do that, he would not be pressed for options in the first place.

  An idea flashed through his mind. "Yeah, that could work," he muttered, a sliver of hope brightening up his eyes. He had a plan, but he would need to hold out for a little while longer before he could enact it. Until then— "Guess I just keep blowing them up," he told himself.

  Then he heard it— a high-pitched whine. Sharp and screeching, it cut through the chaos. Not the propeller buzz of the drones, or the buzzsaw blades of the heavy drone, but something entirely different.

  "I can't see a damn thing!" Ethan frowned, snatching a drone by its rotor mid-flight and wielding it like a crude club to smash another. His eyes darted frantically, searching for the source of the noise.

  There it was, on the ceiling. Sparks danced across the metal frame as a high-energy laser carved glowing, molten edges in its wake. His gaze followed the trail to a tiny drone– a quarter the size of the other ones– outside the bus, trying to slice it in half.

  Suppressing a grunt of pain, Ethan wrenched himself free from the swarm. The drones pursued like wasps, unrelenting in their efforts to hinder him. He leveled his shotgun at the laser drone and fired.

  The blast did little. The drones reacted instantly, forming a protective wall around the tiny drone.

  "Come on," Ethan growled, pulling the trigger and firing again. And again. Refusing to believe there would be enough drones between him and his target to shield it forever.

  Then— a chance. A hole opened in the wall of drones.

  Ethan steadied his aim, finger tightening on the trigger—

  The bus jolted violently. The truck slammed into them again, knocking his aim off-kilter. His shot went wide, blasting into the ceiling as he stumbled, losing balance.

  Still, Ethan had a split second before the gap in the drones closed. Swaying mid-fall, he pulled the trigger—

  Click. The hammer struck a dud.

  Ethan's eyes widened in utter disbelief. "Motherfu—"

  …

  The bus careened into the highway divider with a teeth-rattling screech.

  Canaria's screams were drowned out as she was flung across the bus. She slammed into the barrier's edge with a heavy thud, pain surging through her body like an icy shock. Dazed, she opened her eyes to see bodies and drone parts flying through shattered windows.

  Instinctively, she reached for the old lady who had helped her, whose body now dangled precariously from the window frame. Her hand struck an invisible wall— the edge of the barrier protecting her.

  The truck pulled back, preparing to ram the bus again.

  "No, no, no!" she cried, pounding futilely against the barrier.

  The vehicle shook once more, and blood drained from Canaria’s face as she watched powerlessly while the old lady's body slipped from the window and vanished from her sight.

  It was too late.

  For the second time, she had failed to repay someone who had helped her.

  …

  When the truck rammed the bus the second time, the impact rocked the vehicle so violently it tilted onto two wheels. Ethan, preoccupied with the drones, was flung against a pole. He coughed as pain radiated through his ribs.

  The bus wheels slammed back onto the asphalt with a massive thud. Wincing, Ethan forced himself upright amidst the unstopping bursts of gunfire. He managed to scramble back to his feet just in time to see the truck coming in for another pass.

  He held in his grunts of pain, gripping the nearest seat for stability as he braced himself for the impact.

  The bounty hunter did not fall again.

  As the bus's AI system struggled to stabilize the vehicle, Ethan surveyed the chaos. Sparks rained down as the laser drone continued cutting a molten path along the ceiling and down the left side of the bus. He could feel the groaning strain of the bus's chassis.

  Snarling, Ethan staggered to the window, shotgun cleared. He leaned out and fired.

  "Let me catch a break, damn it," he grunted, eyes filled with displeasure.

  Drones once again swarmed him, entirely blocking his line of sight. Glancing at his HUD, Ethan decided to make a gamble. He grabbed a grenade from his belt, primed it, and held it until the last possible second.

  Right before detonation, he gently tossed the grenade in the air, where it detonated right before his face.

  Boom!

  The explosion rippled outward, sending drone shrapnel scattering in all directions. The bus trembled from the blast. Ethan felt the wind knocked out of him but smiled grimly as the swarm was obliterated. The man had gambled with his life, and won. His exo-gear held out in the explosion, but its energy reserves had dipped into critical red.

  With the way cleared, Ethan focused on the laser drone and fired a clean shot.

  To his annoyance, sparks danced as his shot ricocheted harmlessly off a shimmering barrier encapsulating the laser drone.

  "That son of a…" Ethan clicked his tongue.

  "Aha! Bet you didn’t see that coming, cowboy!" the operator’s voice crackled over the comms, taunting the bounty hunter's efforts. The sound of a table being smacked also came through, along with the sound of wheezing and laughter.

  Ethan, not being bothered to respond, ignored him. Instead, he raised his wrist toward the laser drone. A slot in his exo-gear opened, revealing a javelin-like device that shot out like a bullet.

  The javelin struck the barrier, but rather than bouncing off like the bullets, it attached itself to the surface like a dart. Tiny legs protracted, locking it in place. Then the javelin came to life, its tip emitting a faint aetheral blue as it spun like a drill.

  The javelin burrowed through the barrier as though it were paper mache. A second later, the embedded arte erupted, filling the small space with a contained explosion that obliterated the laser drone.

  With the source gone, the barrier dissipated, popping like a bubble filled with smoke.

  "Didn't see that coming, did you?" Ethan huffed as he dropped back inside the bus. "One problem down." He then glanced across the aisle and saw the other one trucking about. It maintained a distance two lanes away, its cargo bay roof open with drones continuously buzzing in and out.

  However, before the bounty hunter could do anything else, flashing red and blue lights appeared in the distance.

  Police cruisers screeched onto the highway, their sirens wailing as officers opened fire on the drones— taking the heat off Ethan for the moment.

  "Looks like we have company," the bounty hunter remarked dryly, watching the newcomers. Yet there was little relief in his tone; another problem reared its head just as the chaos seemed to be dying down. Ethan shook his head, contemplating his next move. He had no love for the cops, but— "Hey, enemy of my enemy, I guess," he shrugged, his eyes scanning the road ahead.

  Then, he glanced around and spotted it, the one thing that put a spark of joy in his eyes.

  "Well, what do we have here?" he grinned. "Looks like our ticket to bail is finally here." In the distance, an upcoming tunnel loomed, presenting its mouth like a gaping hole in the night. He had been waiting for this; he knew a tunnel was coming up, a chance for him to make his breakaway.

  …

  Outside, the operator’s voice screeched over the comms again, dripping with irritation. "Oh, come on! Can’t you cops just mind your own business?!"

  The drones adjusted their formation, peeling off to engage the police. Ethan watched as the sleek machines dove at the cruisers, their mounted guns spitting rapid fire. The officers fought back, but under the cover of night, trying to hit such small, agile targets was like trying to catch a fly with a pair of chopsticks.

  A heavy drone flew out of the cargo bay and slammed into a cruiser, its payload detonating on impact. The explosion sent the vehicle careening into another, triggering a chain reaction. Civilian and police vehicles crashed into one another in a violent pile-up. Flames erupted from the wreckage, bathing the highway in a hellish glow.

  The chaos deepened as more police reinforcements arrived, bolstered by armored vehicles and aerial drones. Spotlights from helicopters illuminated the highway, casting sharp, flickering shadows across the road. Behind the scenes, news helicopters circled like hawks, broadcasting the carnage live to the world.

  …

  The news feed flashed across multiple stations in Singapore— one of them watched by a familiar face and his subordinate.

  Edmond’s eyes sharpened as he recognized the highway— and how it matched the information he was following. His pulse quickened.

  This was it.

  With a sharp flick of the wheel, his car swerved, tires screeching loudly against asphalt as he made a sharp adjustment to his route and veered down one of the countless branching paths of the service tunnels.

  …

  …