Aurania froze mid-step, her axe still raised. The clash of gunfire and shouts faded for a heartbeat as the scream cut through everything else. She looked to where it came from, the corner with Tamiyo and Elias.

  “—No,” a whisper escaped Aurania’s lips.

  Sable held Elias by the wrist. He was limp, smoke rising off him. Tamiyo was cowering back away, eyes the size of planets.

  Sable released Elias and he crumpled to the floor—

  CRACK.

  Riza’s round slammed through the wall with thunderous report. Sable was sent hurtling across the room, too fast to track.

  At least she got the bastard back.

  A sound caught Aurania’s attention, and she turned to see Soren pushing off the floor. He raised up to one knee, looking around the room. Aurania moved to cover, firing her handgun at one of the five other soldiers still engaging them.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  She turned, saw where Sable had landed—

  And he stood up.

  How the fuck did he survive Riza’s shot?

  Aurania stared, eyes wide and stunned. Sable looked around the room, saw another of his men gunned down by her team.

  He turned and bolted from the room.

  She almost tried to follow him, but several bullets pinged off her armor, forcing her to take cover.

  Shattered gold.

  Blinding white.

  Searing red pain singed the inside of her skull.

  Soren.

  She peeked out from cover. He was standing in the same spot, but he was staring at Tamiyo.

  At Elias.

  He had connected the dots.

  A low, building growl was coming from somewhere around him. The building started shaking as steam rolled off his armor. Inside the helmet, she saw the white glow.

  He looked possessed.

  One of the Conservatory soldiers advanced on him, shooting as he approached. The bullets pinged off his armor, but they might as well have been mosquitoes. When he got close enough, the soldier tried to electrocute Soren again, the same way Sable had.

  He grabbed Soren’s wrist.

  The shock charged and surged—

  Soren’s other hand moved like lightning, trapping the man’s grip against his wrist.

  Bolts danced along both men’s arms, and then they reversed. Soren somehow amplified the charge, then sent it back. The man’s armor overloaded, and he was cooked inside. The plating melted and sparks exploded.

  The body fell to the floor like a solid statue.

  Shit is going south fast, Aurania thought. “Volkara! Inelius—data core! Violet, Amalia! Get Tamiyo and Elias out of here—!”

  Shots rang down at her from the three remaining soldiers.

  Her ears popped as Soren’s gaze whipped toward them.

  He leapt.

  An uppercut to the face turned the man’s face to gore. The force lifted the body several feet off the ground, and Soren grabbed the ankle mid-air, swinging it like a hammer into one of the other soldiers. Both bodies flew into the wall in a bloody, sparking mess.

  It was one of the most terrifying things Aurania had ever seen.

  “Veolo! Grab one of those bodies and get to the ship.”

  The girl did as ordered. Everyone but Inelius had already run. The lazarco got the data core out and bolted.

  Aurania looked at Soren. He was staring down the last Conservatory soldier as the man unloaded his weapon into Soren’s, leaving glowing orange where the bullets melted metal.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Soren crouched, angled his shoulder—

  And launched.

  He flew like a cannonball into the man, and the two crashed through the wall out onto the salt plains.

  The room fell silent.

  The sounds of gunfire echoed in her ears. Her breath was ragged, and her heart pounded in her chest. She slowly stood up, surrounded by smoke, blood, and broken bodies.

  Nothing felt real.

  Maybe she imagined it, but the same way she heard Soren’s thoughts slip through sometimes, she heard Elias’ voice, like the ghost of a whisper.

  Go get him. He won’t be able to stop on his own.

  Aurania listened.

  She rushed through the hole where Soren had obliterated the last soldier.

  The sun above Piria blazed low and pale behind a thick white haze. The landscape stretched out in every direction, a vast, shimmering, skeletal plain. The ground cracked beneath her like old porcelain. Gusts of wind carved spirals into the dust.

  Soren stood with his back to her, visible tendrils of white, steamy rage slowly curling off of him. She felt all of his pain. She saw his shoulders shudder as he sobbed.

  A low whumph of a shuttle engine flared to their left.

  She looked up and spotted it—white and angular, already climbing fast. The Conservatory shuttle—Sable making his escape.

  Soren saw it too.

  He started running after it, as if he could somehow reach it from the ground.

  Then he launched, leaving a small crater in the ground.

  She watched his silhouette rise, higher than any creature should be able to jump. A trail of white steam followed in his wake.

  He was almost flying.

  The shuttle banked hard, engines burning bright, and dodged just as Soren reached their altitude.

  He missed by meters.

  But he wasn’t done.

  He twisted mid-air, rotating his body to face the retreating shuttle. He extended both arms forward and his palms glowed bright white, energy pulsing.

  The air charged.

  Then the world screamed.

  The beam tore from his hands like a lance from the gods, howling with the unholy resonance of pressure, light, and force. It wasn’t fire or plasma. Pure white energy fueled by Aether Dust made a shuddering, subharmonic noise that rattled her teeth. She felt the sound as much as she heard it.

  It struck the shuttle’s right engine, scarring it with a glancing blow. It went spiraling off course, but didn’t fall. Sable’s ship stabilized, veered into the upper atmosphere, and disappeared.

  Soren didn’t get to watch it flee.

  The force of the discharge launched him backward, flinging his body like a rocket from the sky. He crashed down onto the flats, slamming into the ground like a meteorite. A cloud of salt and dirt billowed around him as he skidded, flipped, and rolled until he finally came to a halt.

  She realized the building wasn’t just shaking, the entire ground was—and it was getting worse.

  The quake rippled out in concentric circles, fracturing the surface. Cracks spiderwebbed through the basin, hissing with heat and static. She staggered as she fought to keep her footing.

  Soren didn’t get up.

  Aurania ran toward him, the salt-cracked ground splintered beneath her armored hooves. Dust hung in the air like smoke from a just-ended war. The quake rolled and pulsed in irregular bursts, like the world itself was struggling to breathe.

  She leapt into the crater and dropped to her knees beside him, skidding in the grit. His armor was cracked and torn, cosmic steam venting out the joints. His breathing came in sharp, ragged bursts, like every inhale was a fight. His helmet was cracked along one side, the visor fractured down the middle.

  She grabbed both sides and tore it in two.

  His hair was burning, strands of white fire lifting on unseen currents. His eyes were lit from within, pure light with no iris or pupil. Just white stars burning at the end of the world.

  His face was twisted—not in rage anymore, but in agony.

  She pulled her own helmet and gloves off, tossing them into the wind. Then she reached out and placed one hand on either side of his face. Her fingers pressed gently against his temples, thumbs brushing his cheek bones.

  “Hey,” she said softly. She was shaking.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Hey,” she said again, firmer. “You need to control it. We need to go. You’re not alone.”

  His hands twitched. She felt the muscles in his jaw tighten beneath her palms.

  The light in his eyes flared, then dimmed a little. His breathing started to slow.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here. You’re alright. You’re not lost.”

  A shudder rolled through him. The light receded more.

  After a long moment, his eyes blinked. Once, slow. The glow dulled to an ember. His hair, still gently alight, began to settle.

  Aurania exhaled and leaned her forehead to his for a heartbeat.

  Then she slid one arm under his and hauled him upright. “Come on, Soren. They’re all waiting for us.”

  Together, they staggered across the fractured salt plains, each step made harder by the rippling tremors. She didn’t look back. The Ghost of Mandachor loomed ahead, ramp down and engines whirling with urgency. Veolo stood at the entrance, beckoning them forward.

  Aurania and Soren climbed the ramp together, her grip never leaving his side. He was still unsteady, but his balance was returning, one step after the other. His armor hissed and groaned with each movement.

  They crossed the threshold and she called out hoarsely, “Raine. Get us the fuck off this planet.”

  The ramp receded, the hatch sealed shut behind them, and the ship vibrated as it powered upward. She eased Soren down into a nearby seat. He didn’t speak, just rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor.

  She stood still for a moment, catching her breath.

  Then she looked across the room.

  The others were there.

  All of them.

  Amalia sat with her hands clasped, face streaked with tears, jaw clenched so hard her neck trembled. Violet leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight, her cheeks wet and eyes red. Tamiyo sat shaking on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest. Inelius stood gripping the edge of the console like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

  No one spoke.

  The silence pressed in from all sides, thick and unbearable.

  Everyone was silent.

  Everyone except Riza.

  She was in the corner, kneeling over his body.

  The legendary woman, famous for her silence, cried screams of agony louder than anyone Aurania had ever heard.