STEAL YOUR HEART

The world still felt unsteady beneath her feet.

Myst exhaled slowly, blinking away the last traces of the digital haze that had swallowed her whole during the mission. She flexed her fingers, feeling the dull ache settle into her limbs.

The aftereffects of her abilities were getting easier to handle, but they weren't gone entirely.

"You look like hell."

Myst turned her head, finding Flux leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. He had that unreadable look again—the one that made it impossible to tell whether he was impressed or irritated.

But no smoking this time, huh?

"Thanks for the observation." She stretched her neck, rolling out the stiffness. "You here to boast?"

"No. I'm here because you need to get better."

She raised a brow. "At hacking? Pretty sure I'm already pulling my weight."

Flux pushed off the doorway, stepping into the room. She was almost caught off guard when he leaned over the mattress, his hands braced against it. "Your combat skills, sweetheart."

Myst frowned, but before she could argue, he added, "You rely too much on your tech. That's gonna get you killed."

A part of her bristled at that. She wasn't helpless. But she also knew he wasn't wrong.

"So what, you're offering lessons now?" she asked, slightly pushing him away.

"Something like that." He tilted his head toward the door.

They ended up in an open lot just outside the safe house—an abandoned warehouse floor, stripped of its old machinery. The air smelled of rust and dust, and the cold concrete beneath her feet felt solid.

Flux stood a few paces away, rolling his shoulders, loose and relaxed. Myst could already tell he had done this countless times. She, on the other hand, was more used to running and dodging than standing her ground.

Well, that says a lot about me. She almost snickered.

"First rule," Flux said, stepping into position, "don't hesitate. Doesn't matter how good you are at those techy things if you're knocked out before you can use them."

Myst narrowed her eyes. "And what's the second rule?"

He smirked. "Don't get hit."

She barely had time to react before he moved.

Flux closed the distance fast, and Myst barely managed to duck in time. He wasn't holding back, forcing her to stay on the defensive. She tried to read his movements, but he was too unpredictable.

As if every shift in his stance was meant to bait her into making a mistake. Even his stares.

And she did.

A sharp twist, a sweep of his leg, and she hit the ground hard.

She groaned, staring up at the ceiling. Flux hovered over her, offering a hand.

Myst tapped it away, pushing herself up on her own. "Again."

This time, she adapted. She watched the way he moved, how he shifted his weight. He was fast, but he had a rhythm, and if she could just—

She saw an opening.

Myst sharply twisted her body mid-dodge and landed a solid hit against his ribs.

Flux barely staggered, but he did pause, just for a second. His brows lifted slightly, a flicker of something—surprise? amusement?—crossing his face before it was gone.

"Not bad," he admitted.

A surge of pride shot through her. She had gotten through. But the moment was short-lived.

He moved faster this time, closing the distance before she could react. A sharp block, a sidestep—before she knew it, her back was about to hit the ground again, and it'd be harder than before. A sharp breath escaped her lungs.

Flux reacted swiftly, lunging beside her as his arm snaked around her waist. This time, there was something else in his gaze. A flicker of something she couldn't quite name.

Concern.

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"You need to learn when to stop," he said quietly.

Myst was about to drown in his eyes, like a force dragging her in. She straightened and—Flux's touch loosening—wiped the back of her hand against her lip, tasting iron.

His tongue darted out, and he turned his head away. "We'll start with a warm-up tomorrow."

She didn't argue, even if she wanted to. No words formed in her mind. Instead, she watched as he turned to leave, his usual unreadable self again.

But as he walked off, she could've sworn she saw him pause—just for a second—before disappearing into the safe house.

And somehow, that said more than words ever could.