Preparation

Ava woke slowly, the pain in her abdomen now dull enough to let her think clearly. Her body felt heavy, her eyelids as though they weighed a ton.

Faint voices drifted into her ears, gradually growing clearer. One was a woman, sharp with frustration. The other was a man, cold and steady.

"I'm telling you," the woman said. "We ran every test. She doesn't have a mark, and there's no sign of her developing one."

"I heard you the first time," the man replied. "But that doesn't explain the anomaly. She should have been infected the moment she saw me use my power—and even more so when she saw my mark. So why hasn't she gotten one?"

The woman didn't respond.

Ava's pulse quickened as the meaning of their words sank in. She shifted slightly, the faint rattle of her chains breaking the silence. She had tried to move unnoticed, but the voices stopped abruptly.

"She's awake," the man muttered.

"Get her ready," he ordered. "Whether she gets a mark or not doesn't matter. She'll be sent down as bait while we retrieve the relic from the temple." His tone was icy as he turned and left the room.

"That bastard," the woman growled under her breath. "Who does he think he is, ordering me around?"

A sharp clap echoed through the room as the woman signaled. Moments later, two others entered. Ava noticed faint, glowing particles rising from their feet, swirling upwards. Before she could focus on it, a sharp pain cut through her thoughts.

She groaned softly, drawing their attention. As her mind cleared, she scanned her surroundings: a small, windowless room with a single dim bulb dangling from the ceiling. The air was stale and carried a faint, metallic tang. She tried to piece together how long she'd been here. A day? Longer? It was impossible to tell.

The two women approached her silently. One crouched to inspect her while the other began uncoiling a length of chain from the wall. Ava flinched instinctively.

"Stay still," the crouching woman ordered flatly. She reached for the iron collar around Ava's neck. The cold metal shifted as it was removed, only to be replaced with a heavier one. Ava didn't bother resisting—any attempt would be futile and only worsen her condition.

The second woman tugged at the chain, forcing Ava to sit up. Her body protested, and she nearly toppled over.

"Don't bother fighting," the first woman warned. "You'll only make it worse for yourself."

Ava glared but said nothing.

As the two women pulled her to her feet, Ava bit down a groan, refusing to show further weakness. Despite the pain, fragments of their earlier conversation echoed: the temple, the relic, and the mention of her being used as bait.

Her gaze drifted to the corner of the room. A shadowy figure stood there. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew that figure—it had followed her since that night.

It was almost like looking into a warped reflection of herself. What unnerved her most was the faint resemblance the figure bore to her original appearance, it was Ava Blanton.

the real Ava, she thought grimly. On the night of that horrifying nightmare, she had woken up in an unfamiliar body. At first, she thought it was another bad dream, but it wasn't.

Her own name was a blur, her memories fragmented. The only clear identity she had now was of Ava Blanton—the person who she is now living as. She could recall fragments of Ava's life over the past few weeks, but anything earlier was just as hazy as her old memories.

She clenched her fists, staring at the figure. Can you at least say something? Are you planning to silently follow me like a creep forever? she screamed in her mind.

The figure didn't respond. It never did after the first time.

The sound of rattling chains broke her spiraling thoughts. She was being moved again, led by Dana and at the back by the women. They guided her through a long, dimly lit corridor that opened into a grand hall.

The space, once magnificent, now seemed neglected. Cracked and broken windows let in pale light, illuminating the worn out tapestries lining the walls.

Ava's steps faltered as her eyes scanned the room. At its center stood a dozen men. She recognized one of them immediately: Maurice.

But something about him was different now.

From Ava's memories, Maurice had always appeared in tailored suits. Now, he wore sleek, black attire with futuristic elements. Armor-like shoulder pads jutted from his frame, and mechanical gauntlets gleamed in the dim light. He looked like a character from a cyberpunk story.

Well, considering this world is super advanced, it wouldn't be an exaggeration—maybe except for the cyber part, she thought wryly.

Maurice's gaze met hers. Suppressing her growing anxiety, Ava met his stare without hesitation.

"Ah, Ava," Maurice said smoothly. "You've finally awakened." His tone was polite, but there was an edge that made her stomach churn. "I trust you're feeling well enough to… cooperate."

Ava forced her customary mask in the face. Straightening her frame, a wry smile stretched across her mouth as she went into silence.

Not bothered by her silence he continued, his eyes taking in Ava's current appearance-from tatters of rags clinging on her to skin bruises.

He closed his eyes as he hummed softly, before looking at the woman behind Ava, the one who had helped escort her to the hall. "Get her some proper clothes," he said nonchalantly. "Is this how we treat our guests?"

The absurdity of his words almost made Ava scoff aloud. Guests? This man had more nerve than she'd anticipated. Of course, his apparent concern wasn't genuine. He couldn't care less about her, not when she was a pawn in whatever cruel plan he was orchestrating. She was disposable.

Maurice turned back to Ava, his cold eyes meeting hers. "Tell me, Ava. Have my servants treated you poorly?

Ava's smile stretched, cloaking the venom in her tone. "What is the point in stating the obvious? Can't you see?" She waved at her tattered appearance, raising an eyebrow in mock incredulity.

Maurice let out a dry chuckle. He stepped forward, and the men standing between him and Ava instinctively parted to let him pass. His polished boots echoed against the floor as he closed the distance, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey.

He stared harder, his eyes scouring her from head to toe, as if looking for something that wasn't quite visible. "Hmm. You really didn't develop any markings," he muttered to himself. "Nor are you showing signs of becoming a monster.

Ava's eyes widened. Her heart was suddenly racing, but she concealed her unease behind a razor-sharp glare. "What do you mean, 'becoming a monster'? 

Maurice's face didn't change. The men around her had closed in around her in a circle with ominous precision before she had more than opened her mouth to demand more explanations. Behind her, Dana and the two women retreated. Dana reached into her belt and pulled out a folded piece of black cloth; her movements were unhurried and calm.

Before her, Maurice started to open his suit armor; his armor- like suit had a belt-like clasp up front instead of the traditional suit buttons. He opened the front with slow, deliberative precision; accompanying the motion was the soft whir of concealed mechanisms. Ava froze, narrowing her eyes as her stomach twisted in revulsion.

Her voice exploded, and with it went the tension. "What the hell? Don't tell me you're-" She shoved her handcuffed hands forward in protest, trying to ignore the searing pain of the effort. "Absolutely not! You're crazy if you think I'd-I'm not-"

Her face burned red as she stammered. "I don't care what kind of twisted villain you are, I am NOT sleeping with you!

The hall had gone silent with shock. Maurice was frozen in place, mid-gesture, his front of his suit half-open to reveal something that was faintly glowing. Shock and disbelief ran twisted on his face.

The men around her were standing agape, their jaws almost hitting the floor. Even Dana and the two women, who had been stoic during the whole ordeal, were choking on their composure. Dana coughed into her hand, badly concealing her laughter, while the other two simply looked at each other.

Maurice's voice cut through the night air, shrill and exasperated. "What in the world are you talking about?!"

Ava shot back, unfazed by the reactions surrounding her. "You're unbuckling your suit and trying to corner me with all these goons! What else am I supposed to think?!"

Maurice let out a deep sigh, placing a hand upon his temple as if her words had physically hurt him. "I was just going to show you something, you ridiculous woman! Do you honestly think I'd-" He cut himself off, exasperation only increasing as he shook his head. "Unbelievable. You are unbelievable."

"Well, excuse me for not trusting the creepy guy with the mob and a penchant for collars!" Ava shot back, her cuffed hands still clenched as if getting ready to fight.