Veins of Fire
Valeforth Academy – Restricted Sector 4
7:46 PM – Two Days Later
The cold metal door slammed shut behind her.
Alyss stood alone in the abandoned weapons vault, red warning lights blinking overhead. The room stank of dust and disuse. But it didn't matter. She'd broken the lock herself—disabling two wards and looping the interior surveillance feed.
She was running out of time.
And patience.
On the table before her, she laid out a series of weapons, all confiscated years ago. Illegal aura-infused tools. Blades that shattered flesh on contact. Small devices that overloaded nervous systems. Most of them were cracked or burnt out.
All except one.
A thin, black dagger—its edge humming with residual aura. It pulsed softly like it remembered blood.
She picked it up.
Let it rest in her palm.
Her mind flashed—Callyn's blood on the floor. Her ribs shattered. That faint gasp before the light in her eyes died.
Alyss didn't blink.
She clipped the dagger to her belt and turned toward the exit.
Let the Academy try to stop her.
She had already made peace with the consequences.
Because tonight, she was going hunting.
⸻
Valeforth — Downtown Surveillance District (Underworld Hub)
9:12 PM
"You're not supposed to be here."
The girl speaking was older than Alyss by maybe three years, but her voice cracked when she saw the fire in her eyes. Alyss didn't respond. She simply stepped forward into the neon-lit corridor, past the illegal holographic booths, the black-market Aura-tech smugglers, and the vagrants too scared to move.
"I'm looking for a woman. Codename: Black Vein."
The girl's eyes widened. "No one talks about her. Not in this part of the city."
Alyss stopped inches from her, voice cold enough to split bone.
"I'm not asking you to talk."
She dropped a blood-stained coin on the table—a tracer disc embedded with last week's aura imprint.
The girl stared.
It was the mark of a ghost.
Alyss stepped back, voice barely above a whisper.
"Tell her I'm coming."
⸻
Elsewhere — Private Compound, Location Unknown
Same Time
"She's getting bolder," said the woman known only as Black Vein.
Her voice was measured, devoid of worry, but laced with curiosity.
Across from her, the butler in the black suit stirred his tea, unbothered.
"She's doing exactly what we want."
"She's dangerous."
"She's emotional," he replied. "There's a difference."
Black Vein's eyes narrowed.
"She has the same cold fury as the boy. You trained them well."
The butler smiled faintly, setting his cup down.
"No. I didn't train her. That chaos you see? That's hers alone."
A moment of silence passed.
"She'll reach us within the week," Black Vein said.
"I know."
The butler stood, adjusting his gloves.
"Let her."
⸻
Valeforth – Skybridge Overpass
10:04 PM
Rain slammed against the glass dome, lightning shattering the sky in white forks. Alyss stood at the edge of the bridge, coat whipping violently in the wind.
Below her—hundreds of feet down—were the factories that powered the northern grid. No security. No cameras.
But she wasn't here for sightseeing.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
"Didn't expect you to follow me," Alyss muttered without turning.
Lorn's voice came calm. "You think I'd let you throw your life away alone?"
"This isn't about me."
"It never was," he said. "But it will be if you cross the line."
She finally turned.
And the moment he saw her eyes, Lorn felt it:
This wasn't the same girl he fought beside during exams.
This wasn't the clever, focused, slightly arrogant Alyss who challenged top students just to prove she could.
This girl had something else in her.
Something hollow.
Something burning.
"They killed her," she whispered. "And nobody lifted a hand. No investigation. No warrants. No trials."
"I know."
"Then stop trying to save me."
She turned back toward the storm.
Lightning cracked again—and in its white glare, Lorn saw it:
A silhouette on the far edge of the bridge. Cloaked. Watching.
His blood froze.
"Alyss—"
"I know," she said before he could finish.
Her hand moved to the dagger at her hip.
"I was waiting."
⸻
The Bridge — Lightning Strike Point Zero
The figure stepped forward.
Black Vein.
Her violet-threaded gloves glistened under the storm. Her mask reflected the light. Not a single aura flickered from her body—no pressure, no presence. Just silence.
"I warned them you'd come," she said. "But they didn't believe me."
Alyss moved into stance.
"I don't care."
"You should. Because you're not ready."
A crack of wind—then suddenly—
Alyss was gone.
Lorn blinked.
They'd vanished.
⸻
Under the Bridge – Midair Clash
The air erupted with sound.
Alyss launched from the support beams with a violent kick, blade aimed straight for the woman's chest. Black Vein dodged by inches, spinning midair and catching her ankle.
The twist would've snapped anyone else's leg.
But Alyss rotated with the motion—using it—spinning the dagger upward.
It slashed across Black Vein's shoulder.
Blood. Real.
The assassin landed hard on the lower beam, hissing.
She hadn't expected a clean hit.
Alyss landed opposite, panting—but not smiling.
"I'm not her," she said.
Black Vein's voice came low. "No. You're something worse."
They moved at the same time.
⸻
Final Scene — Edge of Death
Lorn arrived just as the lower beams gave way.
The clash had torn a chunk of the structure loose.
Alyss's body lay motionless near the wreckage. Black Vein was gone. The storm above continued—merciless, loud, uncaring.
Lorn dropped to his knees, skidding beside her.
She was breathing.
Barely.
Blood soaked through her coat.
One arm was broken. Her ribs likely shattered again. But her hand still clutched the dagger.
And on her lips—barely audible—was a whisper.
"…not… enough…"
Lorn's hands shook as he tried to lift her.
"Stop doing this to yourself," he said. "You're not alone."
She didn't answer.
Her eyes fluttered shut.