Book (No Title Yet)
Chapter 1
Arthur leaned over the solar carburetor, his grease-streaked fingers meticulously tightening bolts and aligning circuits. The faint hum of the S8 engine under his hands was a comforting reminder of simpler things—machines that followed rules, systems that could be fixed. Unlike people. Unlike the world.
In his ears, a pounding bassline kept him focused.
"Shoutout my label that's me. I'm in this bitch with TB. I'm in this bitch with Four-Trey…"
The music thumped, drowning out the chaos of the mechanic's shop. Arthur nodded along, his head bobbing to the beat as he adjusted a fuel intake valve.
"ARTHUR!"
The voice pierced through the music like a bullet through glass. Arthur blinked, pulling his headphones off and glancing up.
"What?" he grumbled, squinting at Carlos, his coworker, whose face was a mask of urgency.
"There's a fight in the main lobby!"
Arthur frowned. "Carlos, I've been on this carburetor all day. Why would you distract me for—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his ears catching the faint echoes of shouting from the lobby. His brow furrowed as he recognized one of the voices.
"No way… Eve?" he muttered under his breath. The name tasted strange after so long. He glanced at his watch—29 January, 100 AC. She should've been at the Academy. The second semester had definitely started by now.
Shaking his head, Arthur dismissed the thought and turned back to his work. But then, he heard it.
"ARTY!"
His heart skipped a beat. That nickname—it could only be her. He handed his tools to Carlos without another word and bolted for the lobby, his boots leaving smudges of motor oil on the concrete floor.
The scene in the lobby was chaos.
A petite girl in grey jean shorts and an orange "Keep the World Clean" shirt stood at the counter, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. Her brown hair framed her face like a storm cloud, and her eyes burned with barely contained fury.
"Let me in! All I want to do is see Arty!" she shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
The receptionist, Cherie, stood her ground, arms crossed and lips pursed. "Look, if you want to see Arthur, you'll have to wait until after his shift. He's our best mechanic. We can't have him wasting time on—"
"ON WHAT, BITCH?!" Eve roared, interrupting her. Her voice echoed off the walls, drawing the attention of every mechanic and customer in the lobby. "Are you calling me a waste of time?"
Arthur pushed through the crowd, his hands still smeared with grease. "Eve, calm down!"
She spun on her heel, her fiery gaze landing on him. The tension in her shoulders melted instantly, replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable.
"Arty!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking with relief. She darted toward him, burying her face in his chest. Her hair tickled his nose, and her scent—warm, earthy, familiar—washed over him.
Arthur placed his hands gently on her shoulders, his touch steadying. "Eve, I'm right here. No need to fight Cherie. Though, I must admit, watching beautiful women argue over me is a nice change of pace."
Eve pulled back just enough to punch his arm. "Dumbass. This isn't a joke. I need to talk to you. It's serious."
The room was silent now, every eye on the pair. Eve glanced around, her cheeks flushing as she realized the scene she'd caused. Without another word, she grabbed Arthur's hand and yanked him toward the exit.
"Eve, what the hell is going on?" Arthur demanded as she dragged him across the parking lot with surprising strength. "Why aren't you at the Academy? And what's so urgent that you had to start a war in the lobby?"
Eve didn't answer until they reached her bright yellow buggy, parked haphazardly in the corner spot. She turned to face him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"I need you," she said, her voice trembling.
"For what?" Arthur asked, exasperated. "You're not making any sense. And you do realize kidnapping is a Grade A crime, right?"
"Avery…" Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. "Avery is… part of the CLF."
Arthur blinked. "The CL—what?"
"The CLF!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "The ones who shot up the airport in Marietta last week. I haven't heard from Avery since, and I know—I know—he was there. I saw his eyes, Arthur. I know my brother."
Arthur stepped back, trying to process her words. "Eve, that's insane. Avery just graduated from the Academy. He's a good guy. Passionate, yeah, but—CLF? Terrorists? You don't even have proof!"
Eve looked down, her hands trembling. "I don't need proof," she whispered. "I need you to trust me."
Arthur stared at her, his mind racing. The weight of her words pressed down on him, suffocating, inescapable.
And then, something extraordinary happened.
Eve placed her hand on the buggy's dashboard. Her eyes flared, glowing like molten gold. Arthur felt the air grow cold, as though the sun itself had vanished. The buggy's solar gauge, previously empty, surged to full.
"Eve…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Your eyes just—what the hell was that?"
She smiled, a cocky, radiant smirk that sent a shiver down his spine. "You wanted to know how we're going to stop the CLF? This is how."
For a moment, she seemed to shimmer, her entire being radiating with an unearthly light.
Arthur took a deep breath, his resistance crumbling. "Fine," he muttered, circling around to the passenger side. "But if I die, I'm haunting you and we need to go by my house first."
Arthur shares a meaningful glance with Eve, "Plus Charlie would love to see you."
Eve slid into the driver's seat, her smile turning watery. "She's probably so big now."
The drive to Arthur's house was quiet. Eve hummed to herself, hands steady on the wheel, as Arthur stared out the window. The streets were lined with old-world ruins, their broken silhouettes a reminder of a time long gone. Solar lamps dotted the sidewalks, casting a dim glow over neighbors returning home from communal duties. The buggy's quiet hum matched the weight in Arthur's chest.
They pulled up to a modest house on the edge of the district. Its exterior was well-kept but weathered, a testament to his mother's efforts to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Arthur stepped out, glancing at Eve. "Stay here for a bit. I'll let you know when you can come in."
Eve nodded, leaning back in her seat.
Inside, Arthur's mother, Helena, was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters. Her auburn hair, streaked with silver, was tied back in a loose bun. She turned when the door opened, a warm smile lighting up her tired face.
"Arthur? You're home early," she said, her voice carrying a hint of surprise. But her expression shifted as she noticed his tense posture. "What's wrong?"
Arthur hesitated, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Mom, I need to talk to you. Can we sit?"
Helena frowned but nodded, pulling out a chair at the small kitchen table. "What's going on, sweetheart?"
Arthur sat across from her, his eyes heavy with unspoken words. "I have to leave… for a while."
The silence between them stretched thin. Helena's hand instinctively went to her wedding ring, twisting it as she searched his face. "Leave? Where? Why?"
"Eve showed up today. It's… complicated, but she needs my help. It's serious, Mom. I can't say much, but I have to go."
Helena sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze dropped to the floor before returning to his. "I knew this day would come," she murmured. "Arthur, you've been here for so long, holding everything together. For me. For Charlie. I've been so grateful, but I've also hated myself for letting you carry so much. You've given up so much of your life."
Arthur shook his head. "Mom, it wasn't like that. I wanted to be here."
"No," she said softly. "You needed to be here. And I let that happen. But you're not the one who needs this conversation. You know that."
Arthur swallowed hard, nodding. He stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'll talk to her."
Helena's eyes glistened as she watched him leave the kitchen. "Arthur… just be gentle. She adores you."
Charlie's room was a colorful explosion of stuffed animals, toys, and dolls. The five-year-old was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her curls bouncing as she chattered to her dolls. She didn't notice Arthur and Eve at first.
Eve stepped in first, crouching down with a wide grin. "Charlie! Oh my gosh, you've grown so much! Look at you—you're beautiful!"
Charlie looked up, her face lighting up with recognition. "Evie!" she squealed, launching herself into Eve's arms. Arthur leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold. His throat tightened as he saw Eve twirl Charlie around, her laugh filling the room. It struck a nerve deep inside him—how much he'd missed moments like these, how much he loved the women in his life, despite how much he hated being stuck here while Eve was living his dream and seeing the rest of the world.
He cleared his throat, snapping himself out of his thoughts. "Eve, can I talk to Charlie for a second?"
Eve nodded, gently setting Charlie down. "I'll be right outside, okay?" She brushed past Arthur, giving him a brief look before closing the door behind her.
Arthur knelt down, his broad frame suddenly seeming small in the glow of the soft lamp in Charlie's room. She looked up at him, her curls bouncing as she tilted her head, clutching Scamper the stuffed penguin to her chest. Her big, innocent eyes searched his face with the kind of unfiltered honesty only a child could manage.
"What's wrong, Arty?" she asked, her voice soft and careful, like she could sense the heaviness of his heart. She held out Scamper with both hands. "You can hold Scamper if you want. He always makes me feel better."
Arthur's breath hitched as he reached out and gently took the penguin, squeezing it. The fabric was worn, a patch on the belly stitched with the unskilled but loving hands of a five-year-old. He smiled despite himself, even as his chest tightened.
"Thanks, Charlie," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scamper's the best, huh?"
She nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. "The bestest."
Arthur set Scamper down gently on his knee, meeting her gaze. "Charlie, listen to me. I need to tell you something really important, okay?"
Her smile faded, her little brows furrowing. "Okay…"
He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face, his hand trembling slightly. "I have to go away for a little while."
Charlie's face fell, her lips parting in confusion. "Go away? Why? Did I do something bad?"
Arthur's heart broke at the question. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame. "No, Charlie. Never. This isn't about you. You're the best little sister anyone could ever have. I'm going because… because I have to help someone. It's like when I go to work to fix things, remember? But this time, it's bigger. It's something only I can do."
Her small arms tightened around his neck as she pressed her face into his shoulder. "But I don't want you to go," she whimpered. "What if you don't come back?"
Arthur closed his eyes, his tears slipping free as he held her closer. He rested his chin on her curls, inhaling the scent of strawberry shampoo. "I will come back. I promise. You know I never break my promises, right?"
She sniffled, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Her cheeks were wet, her lower lip trembling. "Promise, Arty?"
"I promise," he said firmly, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "You're my number one, Charlie. I could never leave you forever. Not in a million years."
Charlie hesitated, then glanced at Scamper, still perched on Arthur's knee. She picked up the penguin and held it out to him again. "Then you should take Scamper. He'll keep you safe."
Arthur's throat tightened, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking down. He took the penguin carefully, cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world. "You're so brave, Charlie," he whispered. "I'm going to miss you so much."
Charlie started to cry harder, big tears streaming down her cheeks. She grabbed his leg, holding on as tightly as her little hands could manage. "Don't go, Arty! Please! I'll be really good! I'll even eat my broccoli!"
Arthur couldn't hold back anymore. He scooped her up again, pressing kisses to her forehead as he rocked her gently. "Oh, Charlie…" His voice cracked as he whispered, "I love you more than anything in this world. But I have to go. Just for a little while."
She sobbed into his shoulder, clutching his shirt with tiny fists. Arthur stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her cry as he tried to memorize every detail of the moment—the warmth of her in his arms, the sound of her voice, the way her small frame fit perfectly against his.
Finally, he gently set her back on the ground, crouching to her eye level. "You're my brave girl, okay? And I need you to take care of Mom while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?"
Charlie sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She nodded slowly, though her tears didn't stop. "Okay… but you have to come back."
"I will," he said, his voice resolute. He kissed her forehead one last time, then stood, his legs feeling like lead as he turned to leave the room.
"Arty!" she cried, her little voice breaking. She threw herself onto the floor, sobbing, "Don't go!"
Arthur closed the door behind him, leaning against it as the sound of her cries pierced his heart. His own tears fell silently, streaking down his face. When he finally found the strength to move, he wiped his eyes and headed down the hallway, where Eve was waiting.
She didn't say anything, her eyes glancing at the tear tracks on his face. Instead, she simply started walking toward the front door. Arthur followed, his chest hollow and heavy.
In the kitchen, Helena stood by the counter, her expression soft and understanding. She placed a hand on Arthur's arm as he passed. "She'll be okay," she said gently.
Arthur nodded but couldn't speak. His throat was too tight. He just shared a meaningful glance with his mom and handed her Scamper.
His mom began tearing up as she took the doll from him, now understanding the potential danger he could be facing but says nothing as he walks away.
Arthur and Eve stepped outside, the air suddenly colder than before. He climbed into the buggy, settling into the passenger seat as Eve started the engine.
Arthur turned to her, his voice low and raw. "Tell me everything, Eve. No half-truths. No secrets. I need to know exactly what I'm getting into."
Eve's hands tightened on the wheel, her jaw clenching. She nodded, her face serious. "You deserve that. I'll tell you everything."
The engine roared to life, while the faint sound of Charlie's cries echoed in Arthur's mind as they drove into the night.
CHAPTER 2
"Ding!"
The sound echoed ominously through the underground service corridor of the airport, bouncing off the cold concrete walls. The elevator doors slid open with an unsettling finality, revealing fifteen figures stepping out with precision. Each was clad in grey camouflage military garb, their faces obscured by visors that gleamed faintly under the dim fluorescent lights. Their movements were mechanical, efficient, and eerily silent. But what drew the eye wasn't their weapons—sleek, fully automatic rifles held with practiced ease—but the insignia emblazoned on their chests: a large green flower, wilted and lifeless, like a grim promise.
Without a word, the group fanned out into a loose circle, each soldier performing rapid function checks on their weapons. The clicks and snaps of safeties disengaging and magazines locking into place echoed like a sinister symphony. One by one, they snapped to attention, their rifles raised, their eyes—hidden behind black visors—fixed on the dull grey elevator doors.
"Ding!"
The doors opened again.
Two figures emerged, their presence commanding an immediate salute from the waiting soldiers. The first man was tall and lean, his movements fluid and deliberate. The second was massive, his frame reminiscent of a grizzly bear, every step exuding raw, restrained power. Both were dressed in dark tactical uniforms, the only difference being their lack of visors. Their faces were fully visible—cold, calculating, and utterly devoid of empathy.
The lean man strode forward, his boots echoing ominously against the concrete floor. He stopped in the center of the circle and allowed a heavy silence to linger. When he finally spoke, his voice was a quiet blade, sharp and cutting through the tension like steel.
"No Astrons."
The soldiers immediately broke formation, their synchronized steps whispering through the corridor as they moved in unison. The group marched down a dimly lit hallway, their shadows stretching like phantoms along the walls. At the end of the passage stood a white door, its bright red letters reading "Terminal Lobby."
The lean man placed a hand on the door handle, hesitating for a fraction of a second. He turned to the larger man beside him and whispered, his voice laced with menace.
"Amp up the fear. We're here to make a statement the world can't ignore."
As if speaking to himself, he added in a voice so low it barely escaped his lips, "Even my sister."
The door burst open.
Fifteen figures stormed into the terminal in perfect formation, their rifles sweeping left and right, fingers already on the triggers. The lobby, once bustling with travelers, erupted into chaos as bullets tore through the air.
The sound was deafening—gunfire ripping apart the hum of everyday life. Blood splattered across pristine white tiles as men, women, and children fell. Screams rose in a crescendo of terror, only to be cut short as hot lead claimed another life.
The wilted green flower, stark against the grey uniforms, was the last thing many would ever see.
Panic consumed the crowd like wildfire, but something unnatural twisted the terror into something worse. People couldn't think, couldn't process. Their thoughts fragmented, drowning in a tidal wave of pure, unrelenting fear. Those who tried to flee found their limbs heavy, as if the air itself had turned to molasses. They stumbled, collapsed, and became easy targets for the soldiers, who moved with ruthless efficiency.
The massacre was not chaos; it was calculated. Deliberate. A grim dance of death choreographed to perfection.
Fifteen minutes later, the terminal was silent.
Bodies lay strewn across the floor, lifeless forms crumpled in pools of blood. Children clung to their parents in frozen embraces, their small faces forever locked in expressions of fear and confusion. The air, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of gunpowder, hung heavy over the scene.
The lean man, the orchestrator of this unspeakable horror, strode through the carnage, his boots splashing in the crimson tide. His sharp grey eyes scanned the room with a predatory calm, searching.
Finally, his gaze landed on a security camera mounted high on the wall. He approached it slowly, deliberately, and stood beneath it, tilting his head to meet the lens. For a moment, he simply stared, his cold grey eyes flashing like strobe lights, as if daring the world to look away.
Then he spoke.
"This government is broken. Our society is broken."
His voice was low but carried a weight that made the camera tremble slightly on its mount.
"The CLF will fix it. Politicians, military leaders, the so-called protectors of our nation—they have failed us. Their lies and deceit have rotted the very foundation of our country. The CLF will baptize this broken world. The CLF will fix this world."
He paused, his gaze hardening.
"In two weeks, our actions will make sense. Your sacrifice today will birth a new, beautiful nation. We will bloom again."
With that, he drew a slim grey handgun from his side. The camera feed went dark as a single gunshot echoed through the terminal, marking the end of his message.
But the ripples of his words spread far beyond that blood-soaked room.
In a dorm room miles away, a young woman sat frozen, her body trembling as cold tears traced lines down her pale cheeks. The glow of her computer screen illuminated her face, her wide, haunted eyes locked onto the final frame of the now-viral footage.
She recognized that voice. That tone. Those piercing grey eyes.
It was him.
Her breath hitched as a storm of emotions crashed over her—grief, rage, disbelief. But one emotion burned brighter than the rest: determination. She wiped her tears away and stared at the path she knew she had to take, though it terrified her.
This girl was born under a constellation brighter than the rest. A girl who, despite her fear, would rise to meet the impossible.
She was the one who would pull me out of my fragile, blissfully ignorant bubble. Me a twenty-year-old college dropout, unprepared for the world I was about to step into.
"Hey, Arty," her voice cracking through my tumultuous thoughts like a lightning strike. "What do you know about Astrons?"
In that moment, my world shattered.
Chapter 3
Astronics.
A word whispered only in the highest echelons of government and among those whose lives revolve around secrecy and survival. It is the study of the irreversible changes wrought upon the Earth and its inhabitants by the catastrophic detonation of 2100. That event, known in hushed tones as the Cataclysm, fractured the world in ways beyond human comprehension.
When the nuclear winter descended, it shattered continents, twisted climates, and scarred the very fabric of the planet. The fallout, laden with radioactive atoms, bonded with the atmosphere, transforming Earth into an uninhabitable crucible for normal humanity. Yet, amidst the devastation, something extraordinary emerged.
The surviving 5% of humans underwent a transformation. Their bodies adapted, developing the ability to circulate, regulate, and harness the radioactive energy that had fused with the environment. The key to this miracle? A seemingly dormant organ: the appendix.
Some called it divine intervention, the grace of a higher power. Others credited evolution—a ruthless adaptation to ensure survival. But the truth was far stranger. The cosmos itself had refused to let humanity falter. It had chosen to intervene, offering the species a second chance through its covenant of champions.
The twelve champions of the stars.
They were not mere myths. They were real—forces of nature who embodied the duality of creation and destruction. Each bore the name of a zodiac sign, though they transcended astrology's mundane interpretations.
Aries: the emotional visionary.
Aquarius: the tranquil surfer.
Cancer: the mourner of lost worlds.
Capricorn: the selfless inventor.
Gemini: the observant neighbor.
Leo: the prideful monarch.
Libra: the seeker of balance.
Pisces: the empathetic nurturer.
Sagittarius: the chaos-bringer.
Scorpio: the vengeful shadow.
Taurus: the insatiable opportunist.
Virgo: the immutable equilibrium.
Together, they formed the cosmic covenant—a balance of power tasked with reviving humanity from its brink. But the same power that could save also had the capacity to obliterate.
A covenant this profound required rules. Binding laws that dictated its purpose.
It was fated that whenever humanity teetered on the edge of annihilation, seven chosen souls would rise. Their purpose: to decide the fate of the world. Would humanity continue, or would it perish under their judgment?
This knowledge was a closely guarded secret, known only to a select few. Yet, the power—the dormant energy coursing through humanity—resided in everyone. Astrons, they called these gifts, shaped by the bearer's will and their understanding of the covenant's true nature.
For most, the power would remain a mystery, locked away forever. But for those who dared to seek it, the journey to unlocking their Astronic potential was a revelation of the self and the universe's hidden truths.
"Hahaha! No way. You're tripping, Eve." Arthur leaned back in the passenger seat, laughing as the evening sun cast warm hues over the highway. "This makes no sense. I think I'd know if I had the power of the cosmos or whatever. Who told you this BS?"
Eve rolled her eyes, her hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Arthur, you've seen my powers. You've seen what I can do. You think I'm just making this up? I wish you could see the hundreds of unique gifts I've witnessed." Her fiery orange eyes glinted with conviction, but Arthur simply shook his head.
"Right," he said, chuckling. "So where are all these so-called gifts, huh? Why haven't I seen anyone flying around or shooting fire out of their fingers?"
Eve sighed, the weight of her knowledge evident in her voice. "Because the detonation made us realize something. It made us see how fragile we really are. The United Confederation—decided humanity wasn't ready for that kind of power. They keep it under wraps. 100 years ago, the pursuit of knowledge and power destroyed us. That's why only government and military officials know about Astrons and Astronics. Well—besides the Monarchy."
Arthur smirked, unconvinced. "A global conspiracy to keep me from flying? Sure. That sounds legit."
Without warning, Eve slammed her foot on the brake, sending the car jolting to a sudden stop. "Whoa, what the hell?" Arthur gripped his seatbelt tightly, his eyes wide with surprise.
Eve opened the door without a word, stepping out onto the dusty road. The heat of the afternoon sun beat down on the barren landscape, but Eve didn't flinch. Her fiery orange eyes locked onto the sky, her body still and poised.
Arthur followed, half-expecting her to be losing her mind. "Eve, what are you doing? We don't have time for this—"
But Eve held up a hand, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Watch," she said softly, her voice taking on a tone of quiet confidence.
Before Arthur could respond, Eve's body began to glow faintly, her energy seemingly radiating outward. The temperature around her spiked, distorting the air above the road like a heatwave. Arthur blinked, feeling the air grow noticeably warmer, his skin prickling with a sudden, intense heat.
Eve's eyes glowed brighter, the orange shifting toward a deep, fiery red as she raised her hand toward a metal signpost on the side of the road.
The metal seemed to react instantly, its surface shimmering, and with a soft hum, the sign began to warp and bend. A visible wave of heat rose from Eve's hand, a glowing red beam that struck the metal signpost. The metal started to glow white-hot as the temperature soared, distorting the sign and causing it to melt in seconds. Arthur's mouth dropped open, his disbelief clear.
"What the hell...?" he muttered.
Eve looked over at him, her lips curling into a smirk. "Heat is a tricky thing," she said, taking a step back. "It can be an ally, a weapon, or even a source of energy. Watch this."
She closed her eyes, and the air around her shimmered once again. The temperature seemed to drop momentarily, and a pulse of energy radiated out from her like a surge of power. The sunlight above her intensified as the heat in the surrounding environment shifted toward her, drawing in waves of energy from the ground and the air itself.
Arthur felt the air cool slightly, the oppressive heat turning into a more comfortable warmth, like a gentle breeze replacing the stifling air. He stepped back, instinctively, as Eve's body absorbed the heat around her, her skin glowing with vitality.
Eve's eyes flashed open, brighter than before. Her face was serene, as though she were drawing strength from the very world around her. She took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, her body exuded an aura of shimmering heat, like the faint glow of embers.
Then, with a swift motion, she lifted her arm, and from her hand shot a beam of pure, intense heat—a narrow, concentrated stream of energy that cut through the air with the force of a laser. The beam struck the side of a distant rock formation, vaporizing a chunk of stone on contact, leaving a smoking crater in its wake.
Arthur was speechless, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the destroyed rock. "Holy... shit. Did you just—?"
Eve let the power subside, her breathing steady as the heat around her dissipated. She turned to face him, her expression calm, though there was a flicker of intensity behind her eyes. "I can do more than just shoot power up solar car batteries, Arthur. Heat is everywhere, and I can control it. I can use it to power solar tech, like your solar-powered gadgets, or even absorb it to recharge my own energy."
Arthur couldn't take his eyes off her, the reality of her abilities settling in. "That's... that's insane. You could melt anything with that kind of power. You could—"
Eve cut him off with a shrug. "I don't use it lightly. But when necessary, it's the perfect weapon. And just think of the things we could do if we had control of the energy networks—the tech we could power, the ways we could better society."
Arthur let out a low whistle. "You really are dangerous, you know that?"
Eve smirked, her eyes flickering with something darker. "I'm not dangerous yet, Arthur. I'm just getting started."
Arthur stood there, his mind racing, his previous doubts slipping into the background as the full scope of Eve's abilities began to sink in. He had no idea what they were getting into, but one thing was clear: nothing about their mission was going to be easy. And with Eve's power at her disposal, they would have a fighting chance—if they could just learn how to control it.
Arthur hesitated, then continued, "Let's say I believe you. Just for argument's sake. How do I get this 'gift'? I mean, I'll need it if I'm going to help you stop Avery and the CLF."
Eve's smirk faltered. "Honestly? I don't know."
"You don't know?" Arthur's voice shot up, a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You drag me into this mess, and you don't even know how it works?"
"That's why we're going to the Academy," Eve said, her voice softening. A small smile tugged at her lips. "One of my professors there can help us."
"The Academy?" Arthur stared at her incredulously. "You mean the same place you ditched in the middle of the semester? That Academy?"
Eve nodded, her grin widening.
"And how exactly are we getting in?"
Her grin turned mischievous.
Arthur groaned. "When did you even think of this plan?"
"Look, stop overthinking for once," Eve teased. "Just trust me, Arty. All this talking is unnecessary. You'll follow me anyway. You always do." She winked, her tone playful. "It's me. And you love me!"
Arthur froze, her words hitting harder than she likely intended. His gaze dropped to the floor, his mind racing. If Eve had looked at him instead of the road, she would've seen the resignation in his expression. She would've seen how painfully right she was.
The drive turned to silence.
Eve daydreamed of victory, imagining herself standing triumphantly over the CLF as crowds chanted her name. Arthur, on the other hand, watched the road with a troubled look, his thoughts far less grandiose.
"How am I supposed to keep her safe?" he wondered, his chest tightening with worry. From the CLF, from Avery… from her reckless driving.
As Eve's grin spread wider, Arthur sighed and muttered under his breath, "What in the hell is this girl getting me into now? And hopefully she'll stop at a gas station? I really need a smoke."
Arthur's nerves were shot. He hadn't had a proper smoke in hours, and the weight of everything pressing down on him—Eve's wild plans, her powers, the looming threat of the CLF—had him at his breaking point.
"I need to pee," he muttered to Eve, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.
Eve glanced at him, one eyebrow arched. She didn't respond right away, just kept her eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel with that almost unnerving intensity she had when she drove. After a long beat, she finally said, "You better not be getting anything else."
Arthur winced at her tone. "No promises," he said, only half-joking.
"I'm serious, Arthur. We don't have time for you to be slacking off."
The weight of everything was bearing down on him. He needed something to calm his nerves.
Before she could say anything else, Arthur quickly slipped out of the car, closing the door a little too loudly. He knew Eve wouldn't approve if she found out he smoked, but honestly? Right now, he didn't care. He needed something to take the edge off.
The hot air outside felt like a furnace as he made his way to the gas station, a small, dilapidated building on the side of the road. The door chimed softly as he entered, and he took in a deep breath of the cool, artificial air inside.
"Morning," the cashier, a middle-aged man with a grizzled face, greeted him without looking up from the magazine in his hand.
Arthur gave a half-hearted wave. "Hey."
He immediately made his way to the back of the store, slipping into the aisle that held the cigarettes. He eyed the packs, until he saw his prize.
"A pack of Salem Reds, yes please," he sung happily to himself, taking the box off the shelf and heading toward the counter, trying to act casual.
But just as he was about to step forward, he heard Eve's voice outside, followed by the unmistakable sound of the car door opening.
Shit.
Arthur's heart raced. He didn't have much time.
In a panic, he grabbed the first pack of gum he could find, shoving the cigarettes into his jacket pocket and the gum into his hands. He quickly turned to the cashier.
"Uh, just this," he said, trying to act normal as he tossed the pack of gum onto the counter.
The cashier raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He scanned the gum and bagged it. "That all, buddy?"
"Yeah," Arthur muttered, his palms sweating. "Just the gum."
His heart pounded as he turned to leave, but then, the door opened, and Eve stepped inside. She glanced around the store, eyes scanning quickly. Arthur froze.
"What are you doing in here?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Arthur swallowed. "I—uh, just peed but I got a little sidetracked," he said, his voice a little too high-pitched.
Eve narrowed her eyes at him, clearly skeptical, but then her gaze shifted to the cashier, who was still standing behind the counter, giving Arthur a curious look.
"I told you not to take too long," she said, sounding a little more irritated. "We don't have time for—"
The sound of a crackling announcement from the store's old TV interrupted her. A news broadcast, specifically from the United Confederation, began playing.
"—on behalf of the Verdance Dynasty, Queen Noveno, the newly crowned ruler of the United Confederation, would like to address her citizens," a smooth, robotic voice announced.
Arthur's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the new queen. He quickly glanced at Eve, who was now paying full attention to the screen. The momentary distraction was enough to shift the focus away from him for just a second.
Eve's expression changed as the screen flickered to life, displaying a young, regal-looking girl—Queen Noveno, only 15 years old—sitting atop a throne adorned with intricate golden patterns. Despite her youth, she carried herself with an air of calm authority.
The words that followed were sharp and commanding, a reflection of the control the monarchy still held over the Confederation.
"People of the Confederation," Queen Noveno began, her voice measured yet full of undeniable power. "It has come to my attention that the recent terrorist act carried out has shocked us all. I want to make it clear that this is not a matter we will take lightly. We will bring the perpetrators to justice for the innocent lives that were lost in his senseless attack. The Confederation will not bow to those who seek to destroy the peace we have fought so hard to build."
Arthur's eyes darted to Eve, noticing the subtle tightening of her jaw, the flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. She knows Avery was behind this, the killing of innocents. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air between them.
Queen Noveno's voice continued, unwavering. "We will hunt down those responsible for this violence and ensure that they are held accountable. The safety of the Confederation is paramount, and we will not allow anyone to undermine that stability."
Arthur couldn't help but notice the severity in her tone, as if the very idea of people against the state was unforgivable. Eve, however, seemed lost in thought, her eyes distant.
"I know my brother," Eve muttered under her breath, her voice barely a whisper. "He would never do this for no reason. There has to be more to this."
Arthur watched her, confusion settling in. He didn't understand her brother's actions, but he knew Eve wasn't the type to blindly defend him. Her words carried the weight of her conviction.
"Yeah, but this… this is big," Arthur said, unsure how to comfort her. "What's he doing, Eve? Terrorism? Killing innocent people?"
Eve's expression darkened. "I don't know," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't believe he'd do that. But I also know Avery. He doesn't act without a reason. If he's doing this… it's because he thinks it's necessary."
Arthur's mind spun as he tried to process everything Eve was saying. Avery Meadows—Eve's brother—the leader of a terror organization, and the monarchy was gunning for him. The stakes were higher than ever, and Eve was caught in the middle of a storm she hadn't asked for.
Then, as the broadcast ended and the screen faded to black, Arthur's mind snapped back to his own actions. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, glad that Eve was still distracted by the screen and her thoughts.
He had gotten away with it—this time. The cigarettes were still safely tucked away in his pocket, hidden from her view.
"Let's go," Eve said, her tone cool but heavy with the conflict she was feeling. "We've got more important things to focus on."
Arthur nodded quickly, his heart still pounding. He followed Eve out of the store, the weight of the broadcast lingering in the air. He didn't know what was happening with Eve's family, but it was clear that everything was spiraling out of control. And the deeper they got into this mess, the harder it would be to find their way back out.
I hope you enjoyed the preview! Please leave me your thoughts in the reviews/comments. Let me know if the story seems interesting, I am planning on turning it into an entire book series with each book 100k words. I'm excited to finally start releasing my writings to the world and not leaving them stuck in my head.