Chilly winds blew dried leaves against the cold glass. The sun was bright and spilled light in a rectangle across their table. She laid her hand where the light warmed the metal. Xania sipped her coffee. It was bitter and burnt, but it was nicely hot in her mouth. Enero had an empty plate sitting in front of him. He’d had a hearty breakfast; steak and eggs with toast. He’d all but licked the plate clean. Xania had eaten nothing. Breakfast was for morning people. Enero chugged down his glass of milk and sighed. Pushing his plate away from him, he leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over her chest. Looking up at the ceiling, he started talking.

Xania sighed, still looking out the window, her gaze wandering over the lively chaos below as she sipped her coffee, its warmth lingering in her tired hands. Outside, the Trade District bustled with the energy of business—merchants adjusting their stalls, hawkers calling out the virtues of new tech wares, and traders haggling as leaves, tinged with shades of copper and crimson, floated down from the engineered trees lining the streets. Street performers, draped in the warm tones of the season, spun in lively circles, their acrobatics a splash of motion against the steady current of people passing by. Food vendors filled the air with the enticing scents of roasted spices and warm pastries, mixing with the cooler, metallic tang that drifted from machinery hubs and kiosks. Xania watched the scene with a distant expression, her reflection mingling with the world beyond, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She took in the warmth and movement below, letting it soak into her as she breathed deeply

“Xania, are you listening?” Enero brushed his cold fingertips across the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry. I think my thoughts wandered off with me. What were you saying?” Xania asked. She looked at him and forced a smile.

“We will be attending a dinner tonight and you will be wearing the purple dress. I will make sure that everything I want you in is laid out for your convenience. Be ready at 1800. We must leave on time,” he said.

She nodded. Xania stirred her coffee and took another taste. It hadn’t gotten any better with cooling.

“This function is important and we must present ourselves well,” he stated.

Xania took another sip of coffee, watching the dark liquid swirl in the cup. 

“Let’s get out of here," he growled as he got up.

He threw four gold on the table, causing the nearby waitress to gasp and raise her eyebrows. Xania stood, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table. Looking down at it, she asked "where to now?"

“The Black Corner is open. We will spend some time there.” He smiled, showing his perfect teeth.

“Sure.” She gave a quick nod and smiled back, stealing another quick glance out the window. 

Enero took her elbow and led her to the door. His fingers wormed their way into the hollowed spots around her joint and pressed themselves there. She shivered.

“You cold?” He asked as he opened the door.

“No.”

He glanced at her with a raised eye brow. She shrugged.

"Maybe a little."

She tugged her jacket and zipped the front closed.

She stepped out onto the street, squinting as the bright sun pierced through her tired gaze, a sharp contrast to the lingering cold that pressed against her skin. An autumn breeze cut through the market stalls, carrying with it the crisp promise of winter’s snow. Before she had a chance to steady herself, his claw-like grip clamped around her arm, guiding her forward with a sense of urgency, as if she might suddenly wander off into the crowd. She sighed, yielding to his lead through streets she knew far better than he did. A driver could have picked him up, or they could’ve taken a cab, but he always insisted on walking, his entourage of men trailing behind them like shadows, ever-watchful and silent.

Xania walked beside Enero through the lively streets of the Trade District, her gaze drifting over the bustling crowd. She watched people bargain and laugh, children chase one another between stalls, and friends exchange stories over steaming cups. A pang of longing tugged at her—how simple and rich their lives seemed, how fascinating the threads of each of their stories must be.

Enero strode beside her, his mind clearly elsewhere, paying no heed to the world around them. People parted as he passed, bowing reverently, yet he remained detached, as though sealed off in a distant world of his own. His guards shadowed their steps, forming a silent, unyielding barrier between them and the life bustling freely around them.

Xania’s thoughts drifted back to when they were young, two children weaving through the grand halls of the palace in a flurry of laughter and racing footsteps. She could still remember Enero’s smile, bright and unrestrained, his laughter ringing out like chimes as he dashed ahead, daring her to catch him. They’d hidden in alcoves and behind curtains, breathless with excitement and giddy with the thrill of their own private games. She’d see his face peek out, his eyes alight with mischief before he’d take off again, her laughter joining his as she chased after him. Those moments had felt infinite, each filled with simple joy and a freedom that knew no boundaries. She glanced at him now, the weight of responsibility pressing his gaze to the ground, his thoughts lost in worries unknown to her. Where, she wondered, had that boy gone?

As Xania and Enero stepped into The Black Corner’s sleek lobby, the attendants greeted them with polite nods and knowing glances. A staff member, familiar with the pair’s routine, retrieved their credentials almost automatically, her gaze meeting Xania’s with a small, wry smile. As they waited, Xania felt the faintest twinge of nostalgia—she remembered the thrill of their first visit here, how her heart had pounded with the reckless exhilaration of crossing a line they never dared approach in public. Back then, The Black Corner had felt like a bold rebellion, a playground hidden from the prying eyes of the outside world. She and Enero had shared whispered jokes, the laughter barely contained in her chest as they’d glanced around at the private rooms, intoxicated by the freedom of the place.

Now, as they were escorted to the brothel side, her pulse barely quickened. It was just another Friday—a familiar pause in their routine rather than an act of defiance. The air in the lobby was still heavy with that same warm, heady fragrance, and the corridors maintained their dim, inviting glow, but the magic had softened into ritual. Beside her, Enero seemed no different than usual, focused yet distant, his expression unreadable as they passed through the discreet entryway. With a sigh, she stepped forward, the echo of her younger self lingering briefly as the moved through the familiar hall.

The women lined up before them in the softly lit room, each one casting knowing, seductive glances toward the pair as they were presented like finely curated treasures. Enero barely looked at them as he made his selection, choosing with a casual nod that suggested familiarity, not interest. Xania, on the other hand, took a moment longer, her eyes settling on the woman she always chose—a graceful figure with warm, dark eyes and a gentle smile that felt disarmingly sincere. Over time, the two had built a quiet camaraderie in their shared evenings, and Xania’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile as she signaled her choice. With a practiced, respectful silence, they were escorted to a cozy, intimate room, luxuriously furnished in deep colors and soft textures that muffled the world outside. The women joined them, and the evening unfolded as it had before—shared moments and lingering glances—but the intimacy faded gently to a soft, unspoken black, their world drifting into quiet closeness and shadows.

Enero sat up in bed, the sheets slipping off his shoulders as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his gaze settling on the softly lit room. He waved a hand dismissively, signaling for the women to leave, their presence already fading into the background of his thoughts. Xania’s heart sank as she watched the woman she had chosen begin to rise, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features. It felt abrupt and unfair, as though the laughter and warmth they had shared were snatched away before they could truly deepen their connection. She opened her mouth to protest, to invite her friend to stay just a little longer, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she offered a small, sad smile, feeling the weight of the unfulfilled promise of conversation linger in the air as the door closed behind them.

Enero muttered something under his breath, a low growl that rumbled in the stillness of the room. Xania sighed, the weight of fatigue settling heavily on her shoulders as she rubbed her eyes. Standing up, she reached for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table, seeking a moment of solace in the familiar ritual. But before she could take a drag, Enero was suddenly by her side, his hand striking her cheek with a sharpness that sent her reeling back. She pressed her palm against the forming red mark, shock flashing across her face as the surprise of his aggression washed over her. The air grew thick with tension, and the warmth of their earlier intimacy felt like a distant memory, leaving her feeling unmoored and vulnerable in the aftermath of his violence.

Xania quickly pulled the sheet to cover her naked body, the fabric a flimsy barrier between her and the rawness of the moment as she crawled away from him. For a heartbeat, he remained still, watching her with an unsettling intensity. Then, tipping his head to one side, he raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth emerged, teasing the edge of a smile that sent a shiver down her spine. He reached for her, his hand outstretched, but she instinctively backed away, the instinct to escape mingling with a sense of betrayal that clung to the air around them. The tension hung heavy, the silence punctuated only by the quickening of her breath as she tried to reclaim her space in the wake of his unpredictability.

A heavy fist pounded the door. Relief and regret gripped her chest. There would be no more hitting, but the beautiful Enero was gone.

“Yes?” Enero bellowed.

“A message, My Lord. It’s urgent."

Enero gave Xania a sharp look and whispered, “Behave.” Then he called, “Come,” to the messenger behind the door.

The door swung open and a young man stepped into the room. He bowed respectfully and waited for Enero’s word before rising. His eyes wandered to Xania, huddled on the floor. 

“Well, what the hell is so important?” Enero snapped.

“This, My Lord.” The young man pulled out a small silver locket that hung from a long silver chain.

Xania thought for a moment that a shadow passed over the man’s eyes. A living thing, slimy.

“It’s a locket,” Enero growled.

He flicked his hand dismissively. 

“Yes, My Lord, but it's what is inside that you’ll need to know about.”

The man flipped open the locket, revealing a small pool of silver that shimmered ominously in the light—Liquid Steel. Xania lunged at the young man, her hand outstretched to snatch the locket from him, but she was too late. The locket spun through the air, its deadly contents spilling out in a spiraling cascade. Just as panic surged through her, Enero seized Xania from behind, yanking her back and positioning himself to shield her with his body.

But he wasn't fast enough either. The Liquid Steel struck Xania on her shoulder, chest and arm, the corrosive substance searing through her flesh. Pain shot through her as it devoured the layers of her skin, sizzling and bubbling until it reached the bone, leaving behind raw, sizzling tissue. Xania fell back into Enero’s embrace, her body pulling him down with her weight. A small drop of the deadly liquid grazed his cheek, carving a hollowed path into his skin, and he flinched at the sudden burn. Xania’s head struck the floor with a sickening crack, the sound echoing in her ears as darkness began to creep in.

Yelling. Gun fire. Someone was calling her name. Enero pulling her into his arms. So many people filled the room. Blood splashed down around her. A man yelled. Xania’s eyes fluttered open.

Enero cradled her awkwardly.

“Xania?” he whispered.

“He’s alright,” she thought.

Those vulnerable liquid blue eyes.

Xania gurgled.

He furrowed his eyebrows, opened his mouth to say something, but then didn’t. He pulled her closer, enraging the blaze over her flesh.  Its little teeth gnawed at her faster.  She winced at the heavy pounding that began to drum in her skull.  She blinked her eyes carefully, feeling fuzzy around the edges. She started to sit up but couldn’t.

“Oh, God,” Enero whispered.

There was something different in his eyes now. Sweat beaded up along his forehead and his eyes went wide.

“Everyone get out!” he commanded.

There was movement around them. He loosened his grip on her, holding her with only one arm so that she sagged, her back arching painfully.

“Get the fuck out! Now!” he screamed, waving his free arm.

More movement. Then everything around them was still. He laid her carefully on the floor and after a moment, she heard the lock of the door click.

He knelt down beside her. Xania smiled. She closed her eyes, fighting off the tears that welled up inside her. She was going to die. She wasn’t ready.

“You’ll be alright.”

Enero laid a gentle hand on her cheek. Warm fingers. He was so beautiful.

“Liar,” Xania whispered.

She struggled to take a breath.

“I’m not ready to die,” she confessed.

Tears spilled down his cheeks and dropped painfully onto her forehead. Everything hurt. Then she felt something pulling at her heart, tugging her. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

She didn’t know who she was apologizing to, but she was certain that there was something she was supposed to do and she couldn’t now.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s alright.”

He smoothed her hair from her face.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Full system override. Beep. Beep. Initiating command sequence 27432. Beep. Beep. Renewal initiated and Gaia Shard engaged. Beep.

Xania’s eyes flicked open. She was laying on the floor, looking up into Enero’s watchful eyes. The tile was cold against her back. Beep. The wall paper displayed an intricate pattern that seemed to be telling her a story. Beep. Everything looked sharp and crisp. Beep. Everything in focus for the first time. Beep. Xania screamed, full of strength she shouldn’t have.

“Xania?”

Enero reached out to her but a great wave of energy pulsed out of her and struck Enero in the chest like a great hand. She flung her arms out from her body and a blue light pulsated over her flesh. She slowly rose from the floor, turning so that her feet, toes pointing downward, hung an inch above the carpet.

Beep.

“I’m not going to die,” she whispered, as if from a great distance. Her voice echoed of the metal room and vibrated in her bones.

Beep.

“Life Drive engaged,” she droned.

Her mouth dropped open. This time the beep was long and Enero could hear it too. It came from her mouth. It became a cacophony of high-pitched beeps, static crackles, and rhythmic tones. It started with a series of rapid, chirping noises, followed by a whirring sound, thrumming in her broken chest. The tones rose and fell in pitch, interspersed with intermittent clicks and hissing sounds that mimicked the static of a distant radio. The entire process ended with a long triumphant squall 

The light flared and the raw flesh of her arm boiled up in snapping little bubbles. It ran off in hot rivers and dripped onto the floor, burning holes in the carpet where it fell. Enero struggled to his feet and reached to save Xania from the power that was consuming her. The instant he touched her, he was flung back again. He thudded against the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. 

He stared up at her, eyes wide with realization. For the first time, the truth of what she was struck him. His breath came hard. Xania—born of Project Aeloria—was not just a story; she was a living myth, a legend made flesh. He had always believed his father's warnings, but now their weight pressed heavily on his heart. He loved her, but the fear coursing through him was undeniable. The very existence that filled him with awe was also a beacon for those who would now seek to see her destroyed. Did his father still have a copy of the shutdown virus? The thought clenched around him, tightening like a noose. Looking up at her now, he felt a fierce protectiveness rise within him. He couldn't fathom a force capable of extinguishing the light that she was.

“I will not be destroyed by mere mortal hands,” she whispered.

She stared at him with glowing eyes. It was her voice, but it was far away; sleeping. She was somewhere behind the machine.

Was she aware of what was happening to her? he wondered as he got to his knees.

The last of the dead skin ran away, creating a festering pool in the burned hole in the floor. The remaining bones in her shoulder snapped and stretched themselves to reform what was lost. Enero gasped. The sound lurched his stomach and he could taste bile in the back of his throat.

Muscles coiled and twisted around the newly formed white shafts, sculpting themselves with an organic fluidity. Like warm wax poured over a mold, the skin flowed over the twitching muscle, seamlessly sealing the once-missing arm in a flawless embrace. The shoulder rounded out, filling in the contours with a soft yet firm texture, while the chest expanded to accommodate the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. Ribs stretched outwards, encasing her heart and lungs in a protective cage, the muscle layering over the pulsing organs with a life of its own. As the white skin settled into place, it glistened, catching the light and highlighting the beauty of her reformed body—a testament to the power of the Life Drive embedded somewhere inside her.

“Renewal complete,” she droned.

She lowered so that her feet touched the ground. Standing in the halo of blue light. Her eyes were open, but stared out at nothing. All color had drained from them, leaving them a gleaming crystal that reflected back the light in brilliant shards.

“Life Drive disengaged,” she droned.

Beep. Renewal disengaged and Gaia shard disengaged. Beep. Beep. Stop sequence 27432. Beep. Beep. Full system into standby mode. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Then the light and energy were gone, more suddenly than it had come. Xania crumbled onto the floor like an overused doll.

Leaning against the wall, trembling, he tried to focus his thoughts. Everything swirled and competed for his attention. Scattered and broken fragments, shuffled into corners.

Father had been waiting for her to waken. Pretty sure this counted as being awake. He wanted to use her as a weapon. Lay the Mages low and cut down the Fey. Dreams of controlling all of Aer. Could he control this single girl? Enero tried to imagine what would happen if she rebelled. There would be nothing to keep her from destroying their nation.

The Mages would want to control her or see her dead once they knew about her. And they would know about her once father began his conquest with her at his side. Did they have the shut down virus? It had been made back when it was still a cooperative effort.

Would they kill her?

He crawled over to her. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. Nothing happened. He scooped her up in his arms and cradled her into his lap, bringing her head against his chest. Her skin was perfect. Lifting her fingers to his face, she traced the line on his cheek. It stung. She had saved him. Without her, he would be dead.

Knowing nothing else, he knew that he could not let them kill her.

Rising from the floor, he carried her to the bed. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

“Put plan two in motion,” he said.

He hung up. It would have to be enough. There had never been a reason for him to make all these strange plans and arrangements. It just seemed like a good idea to have options. Now it was very good to have an option. But his plan couldn’t help her if she wasn’t awake.

Her eyes flicked open.

Taking a step back, he reflexively touched his fingers to his forehead. Oh Gods, forgive him for protecting her. But there was no other course. Man had created her and now man owed her this.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Just the way she did when she woke in the morning. Stretching out her arms and swinging her legs over the bed, she covered her mouth as she yawned. Just another day. Would she recall everything that happened? Fuck things would be complicated if she didn’t.

“Xania?”

She looked at him.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

Then her eyes went wide. She lifted her hands up in front of her and flicked them back and forth. Then she patted her chest and her face. Running her hands over her smooth skin, she got up so that she could look in the mirror.

“Life Drive engaged,” she whispered.

She turned to him, her eyes still huge. Hands trembling and eyes full of tears, she sobbed. He held her. There was nothing that he could say. It would have been better if she could have forgotten. He wished that she could just go on being a regular person. Worst part was that there was no time to tell her anything. She had to go. Now.

“There’s no time,” she said.

She pulled away from him and began to pull on her clothing. Good, she understood. Just as quickly, she was pulling on her practical boots. Once she was dressed he flipped open his pocket knife and walked up behind her. Pushing her head forward and pulling her hair up, he exposed her neck. So complaint. She’d have to unlearn that quickly. He made a small cut and pulled out the tracker. He tossed it to the floor. Still standing behind her, he stuffed a bag of gold into her pocket and pressed his lips against the wound he’d created. He wished she could kiss the wound she would create when she left.

“Go out the window,” he murmured. “Someone will meet you at your apartment. Hurry.”

Without a pause, she was away from him and pushing up the window. There was a stab in his chest. She swung herself out onto the fire escape. Before she turned to go she mouthed a thank you. She lurched down the stairs then through the alley, making her way to the back parts of the city. She hadn’t looked back. He had hit her too many times for that. Rubbing his hands together, he pulled his phone out again and dialed.

“Step two,” he said.

Once the woman’s body was delivered, he would need to have it disfigured with liquid silver so that it could not be recognized. The general public would think she was dead. Father would have to be told that she had activated and escaped. He would be punished, but he was alright with that.