Is There A Solution?

Iora padded back softly toward Karl's apartment. Her cheetah form flowed effortlessly, muscles rippling under golden fur.

The bag of food swung from her jaws with every stride. She reached the building and her body shimmered as she shifted back, her long dark hair spilling down her back. Her green eyes glinted as she stared around the building, ensuring she was out of harm's way.

She adjusted the bag in her hand and looked around again. Her boots clicked against the rusted stairs as she climbed.

She stopped at the door. Her knuckles rapped against it. She should have just barged in, but this was someone she barely knew. And despite everything that had happened over the past hour, she still needed to show some respect.

"Karl?" Her voice rang out, firm but edged with impatience. No answer came. She knocked again, harder.

"Karl, open up! I've got the food." Silence pressed back. She frowned. Her fingers brushed the knob. It didn't budge. It was locked. Her stomach twisted.

"Damn it," she cursed under her breath. She pressed her ear to the door. Nothing stirred inside; no groan, no shuffle. Had he passed out? Her heart thudded. She stepped back.

Her gaze flicked to the window. It hung open, glass still rattling faintly from the night's chaos. She tossed the bag onto the ledge and gripped the frame. She hoisted herself up and slipped through, landing softly on the floor. Her eyes swept the room.

The charred mattress was sagging. Shattered glass glinted in the corner. No Karl in sight. Her breath caught. She spun around. "Karl?" Her voice sharpened, louder now. The apartment stared back, empty and still.

She cursed again, louder this time. "Where the hell are you?" Her hands balled into fists. Had he wandered off? Weak as he was, he could barely stand. She pictured him slumped somewhere, his fractured Core flaring, drawing eyes—Enforcers, scavengers, anyone.

Her chest tightened. She bolted out the window. Her feet hit the ground and she ran. "Karl!" she shouted. Her voice echoed down the alley. Heads turned to her but no tall figure with piercing blue eyes stumbled into view.

She darted through the streets. Her hair whipped behind her. She scanned every shadow, every corner. A drunk was slumped against a wall in a corner. Not Karl. A crate pile loomed ahead. She checked behind it. Empty.

"Karl, you idiot, where are you?" she muttered, breathless. Panic clawed at her. He wasn't here. Not slumped, not hiding. Gone. Her mind raced. Someone could've seen him. Taken him. She couldn't let that happen.

She skidded to a stop. A neuroshuttle hummed nearby, hovering above the pavement. She waved it down. The door slid open with a hiss. She jumped in.

"Take me to the Gear District," she snapped. The shuttle whirred and lifted off. Her fingers drummed her knee. The city blurred past—neon signs, and rusted scaffolds. She leaned forward. Her green eyes narrowed. Ryn would know something. He had to.

The shuttle slowed and settled with a soft thud. She leapt out, her boots crunching the gravel. She ran toward a squat building that had a roof patched with metal sheets.

The door creaked as she shoved it open. Ryn looked up from a workbench. His wiry frame was hunched over a mess of circuits, his goggles perched on his nose. His brown hair stuck up in odd angles, streaked with grease.

He grinned. "Iora! Didn't expect you tonight."

She forced a smile. "Hey, Ryn." Her voice wavered. She stepped inside. Her hands brushed a pile of tech that consisted of wires and a busted scanner. It clattered and she winced. "Sorry. Clumsy today."

He laughed and set down a tool. "No harm done. Been a while, huh? What brings you barging in like a storm?"

She hesitated. Her fingers toyed with a cable. "I've got questions." She kept her tone light, but her eyes flicked to his face, searching. "Need your brain for a bit."

Ryn leaned back and crossed his arms. "Ask away. I'm all ears."

She took a deep breath. "How possible is it for someone's Core to… give them more than one ability?" Her words came slow, careful. She didn't say Karl's name. She couldn't risk it.

Ryn shrugged. His goggles slipped slightly. "Doesn't happen. One Core, one power. That's the rule. Shifters shift. Fire-wielders burn. You know that." He tilted his head. "If someone had more? That'd be a historical anomaly. A freak of nature. Never heard of it."

Iora nodded. Her lips pressed tight. "Right. But if it did happen—hypothetically—is there a solution? A way to fix it?"

Ryn's brow furrowed. He pushed his goggles up. "Why are you asking this, Iora? What's going on?" His curiosity was piqued.

She waved a hand. "Just humour me, Ryn. Please." Her tone pressed harder, insistent. "Tell me."

Ryn sighed and rubbed his neck. "I'm not deep into Core theory. Never seen it myself. But if you're serious, I could dig around. Old records and tech logs. Might take time." He studied her. "You want me to?"

She exhaled. Her shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Please." Her mind churned. Karl's absence gnawed at her. She should have been relieved that she had gotten the matter off her hands, but instead, she was intrigued.

Ryn grinned. He stood up. "Alright, deal. But while you're here, check this out." He waved her over to a table. A new scanner gleamed there, half-built, its wires spilling like guts. "Been tweaking it for weeks. Better range, sharper readings."

Iora nodded absently. Her eyes glazed over the device. "Nice," she mumbled. Her thoughts drifted. Karl's deer form flashed in her mind. Then fire. Illusions. Lightning. Her stomach twisted. She shifted her weight. "Ryn, one more thing." Her voice cut through his chatter.

He paused. "Yeah?"

"What if someone did have more than one ability?" She leaned forward. "Would it mean they could live on any Shard they wanted?"

Ryn's grin faded. He scratched his chin. "No. Not even close." He stepped closer. His voice dropped, serious now. "It'd make them a fugitive. Every Shard would want a piece. They'd call it an experiment, a weapon. If one Shard claimed them, the others would cry foul and disrupt the peace. It could turn into a damn war over who gets to poke and prod." He shook his head. "Whoever it was? They'd be running forever."

Iora's breath hitched. She cursed softly. "Shit."

Her green eyes darkened. Karl's face swam in her mind, those blue eyes, wide with panic. He was out there alone, a potential target.

Ryn tilted his head. "You okay? You're miles away."

She forced a smile. "Yeah. Just… thinking." Her voice trembled. She turned toward the door. Her heart pounded. She had to find him as soon as possible.