aeyawright

The war for freedom is far from over. But this time, the enemy isn’t just the government—it’s the ghosts of the past.

After escaping Arkadia-7, Myst is left with nothing but fragmented memories and a name that no longer feels like her own. The government may have lost their prized experiment, Blue Rose, but the damage has already been done. Struggling to recover from the mind control that nearly erased her humanity, Myst finds herself caught between the Clan’s growing resistance and the haunting truth of who—or what—she was created to be.

But she isn’t the only one changed by the war. As the Clan prepares to strike back against the government’s growing influence, an unsettling presence begins to rise from the shadows. A weapon perfected through pain. The government has never been one to waste a valuable experiment.

And some projects never truly end.

Codename: Midnight Thorn

The underground network was never quiet.

Even in the dead of night, hidden bars, back-alley deal spots, and makeshift marketplaces hummed with life. Arkadia-7's Outer Districts thrived in secrecy, built on whispered deals and unspoken rules.

Myst followed Shade through the maze of dimly lit streets, her hood drawn low as they weaved past figures cloaked in shadows. Every step felt like walking across unstable ground.

Conversations cut off when they passed, wary eyes tracking their movements. Even without knowing who they were, people could tell they didn't belong.

Shade walked with his usual unreadable composure, hands in his pockets, gaze sharp beneath the flickering neon. His definitely moved like he had done this a hundred times before.

Myst, on the other hand, was still finding her place in all of this.

Working a job like this, and with Shade of all people, felt different. He had always been the quiet one, the hardest to read. Unlike Echo, who filled silences with easy charm, or Blaze, who let emotions spill out whether he wanted to or not, Shade never gave anything away.

Myst adjusted her pace to walk beside him. "How often do you do this?"

Shade didn't look at her. "Enough."

"Enough to know who to trust?"

A brief pause. "There's no such thing."

She frowned. "Not even within the Clan?"

That time, he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Trust isn't about belief. It's about risk."

She didn't know what to say to that.

The conversation ended there, his short responses shutting down any attempt to pry further. Myst wondered if this was just how he was—or if it was because of her.

If Shade still saw her as an outsider.

They turned a corner, slipping into a more crowded space. A section of the undercity where traders, mercenaries, and information brokers crossed paths. The air was thick with smoke and neon light, voices rising and falling in an uneven rhythm.

Myst barely had time to register everything before a hand landed on her shoulder.

She tensed instantly, turning to see a man with a crooked smirk eyeing her up and down. He reeked of alcohol and bad decisions, his stance just unsteady enough to make it clear he had been drinking.

"Well, look at you," he murmured, leaning in slightly. "Haven't seen you around before. Got lost, sweetheart?"

Myst's jaw tightened, trying to hide the quickening pace of her heart. "Not interested."

She went to pull away, but his grip firmed. Just enough to stop her motion.

"C'mon, no need to be like that," he drawled. "I'll show you around. Maybe find a quiet spot, yeah?"

Myst moved before he could finish, her fingers already closing around his wrist, twisting sharply to break his hold.

But before she could, Shade was already there.

The shift was almost imperceptible. No sudden movements, no threats. Just a presence. A slow, suffocating weight that filled the space between them.

Shade's voice was quiet, almost bored. "Move your hand."

Something about the way he said it—low, careful—made the man hesitate. His smirk faltered. The air around them felt heavier, like a wire being pulled too tight.

Then, slowly, the man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Didn't realize she was spoken for."

Shade's expression didn't change. "She's not."

"But if you touch her again, you won't have hands left to regret it."

The man swallowed. Then, with a muttered curse, he backed off, disappearing into the crowd.

Myst exhaled, rolling her shoulder where the man had grabbed her.

Shade didn't look at her as he started walking again, but his tone was unreadable when he said, "Don't let people get that close to you now."

Myst frowned, matching his pace. "I could've handled it."

Shade gave the barest hint of a smirk. "I know."

MET A NEW UNIVERSE