Chapter 3: The First Move

Mira crouched low, pressing herself against the cold iron bars as she listened to the distant footsteps of the guards. She had been awake for hours now, committing the patrol pattern to memory. Five guards. Two stationed at the main entrance, two patrolling the cages, and one outside—likely in charge of handling any important matters.

They were complacent. The slaves were weak, beaten, shackled with magic-restricting runes. No one ever fought back. No one ever escaped.

They wouldn't see her coming.

Nia sat beside her, tail wrapped tightly around herself, golden eyes flitting between Mira and the guards. "This is insane," she whispered. "You're insane."

Mira smirked. The curse inside her thrived on those words. Reckless. Arrogant. Unstoppable.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But I'm not dying here."

She tested the shackles around her wrists. They were heavy, enchanted—but old. That was their weakness. Too many years of use, too much reliance on their magic-dampening properties. They weren't built for someone like her.

Taking a deep breath, she reached inside herself. Her core was there, buried beneath the weight of the rune-carved chains, but it wasn't completely blocked. The magic inside her fought against the suppression, a silent war between her will and the chains that bound her.

And then, she felt it—a single spark of power slipping through the cracks. Not much. Not enough to cast spells. But enough to weaken the bindings.

She exhaled slowly. That would have to be enough.

"Get ready," she murmured.

Nia stiffened. "For what?"

Mira's grin was sharp. "A distraction."

The guard came by, his boots scuffing against the dirt floor. He barely spared them a glance—just another pair of broken captives in an endless sea of them. His baton tapped against the bars as he passed, a lazy show of force.

That was his mistake.

Mira struck the moment his back was turned.

She yanked on the chains with all her strength, throwing herself forward. The shackle around her right wrist snapped—weakened just enough for her brute force to take effect. The momentum sent her crashing into the bars, creating a loud, jarring clang that echoed through the underground chamber.

The guard spun, startled. "What the—"

Mira didn't give him time to react. With her free hand, she grabbed a handful of dirt from the floor and threw it into his eyes.

The man let out a strangled curse, stumbling back as he rubbed at his face. Mira seized her chance. She lunged through the bars, using the weight of her shackles as a weapon, and smashed them against his skull.

A sickening crack. The guard collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

Nia gaped. "You just—"

"No time," Mira hissed, already searching the guard's body. Her fingers closed around a small bundle of keys. Jackpot.

She quickly undid her remaining shackle, the relief almost making her dizzy. Then, she turned to Nia.

The catgirl flinched as Mira reached for her wrist. "Wait—"

"We don't have time," Mira snapped, working on the lock. "You're coming with me."

The chains clattered to the ground, and Nia's breath hitched as she flexed her now-free hands. For the first time since Mira met her, there was something like hope in her expression.

Then, voices shouted in the distance.

"Someone's down!"

Mira cursed. They were out of time.

"Run." She grabbed Nia's hand and bolted.

The underground hallways twisted and turned, dimly lit by flickering torches. Mira's heart pounded as she dragged Nia behind her, feet barely touching the ground as they ran.

Behind them, boots pounded against the stone, shouts echoing through the corridors.

"Find them! The boss will have our heads if they escape!"

Mira gritted her teeth. Almost there. She had memorized the route—there was an exit somewhere near the back of the compound, a maintenance tunnel used by the slavers. If they could reach it—

A shadow moved ahead. Another guard.

Mira didn't stop. She let go of Nia's hand and surged forward, using her full weight to slam into him. The man staggered, but he was bigger, stronger, already reaching for his weapon.

He didn't get the chance.

Nia appeared behind him, moving faster than Mira thought possible. Her claws flashed in the dim torchlight as she raked them across the guard's throat.

Blood sprayed. The man crumpled.

Mira didn't hesitate. She grabbed Nia's hand again and ran.

The exit was close now, just beyond the next turn. She could feel it—the cold night air drifting in from outside.

Freedom was right there.

Then, pain exploded in her side.

She barely had time to react before she was sent sprawling to the ground. The world tilted, her vision blurring as agony lanced through her ribs. She'd been hit.

Through the haze, she saw the source—another guard, standing a few feet away, his fist still raised from where he had struck her.

"Stupid little rats," he sneered, stepping closer. "Did you really think—"

A blur of silver and gold launched at him. Nia.

The guard barely had time to react before she was on him, clawing, biting, tearing. He screamed, staggering backward, trying to pry her off.

Mira groaned, forcing herself up. Move. Keep moving.

She stumbled forward, grabbed the dagger from the fallen guard's belt, and drove it straight into his back.

The scream cut off. He went still.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing.

Then, Nia collapsed against her, trembling. "We have to go," she gasped. "Now."

Mira nodded, wrapping an arm around the catgirl's waist as they staggered toward the exit.

And then, finally, they were outside.

The cold night air hit her like a slap. The sky stretched above them, vast and endless. The stars were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

She let out a shaky breath.

They were free.