Chapter 19

PERFECTION MEETS AMBITION AND HEART

True to Augustus’ word, things at The Hollowed Die calmed down by 3 a.m.

They shared a light meal of B.L.T. sandwiches. Annie sat across from the holo, absorbed in the psychic corgi’s latest adventures, while Alexander pulled up the address and publicly available building blueprints for the police station holding Frank.

The blueprints were useful but incomplete. No sign of which level or room held the evidence. He reasoned it would be in a large, secure chamber, narrowing it down to a handful of basement or sub-basement possibilities. They’d have to determine the rest on-site.

Annie mumbled a “g’night” and slipped away before he finished.

When he finally stood and stretched, sleep creeping into his bones, he felt a faint flicker at the edge of his awareness. He froze, eyes drawn to the soundproofed door leading into the game room. It wasn’t the clean hum of an active device. Something else.

Crossing the lounge, he gently turned the knob and pushed the door open. Dim atmospheric lights pulsed overhead, reds, blues, and greens fading in and out of each other.

Augustus must’ve forgotten to turn them off after game night.

Pulling the door closed behind him, Alexander padded across the room, scanning for a control panel. Not finding one, he reached for the door to the bar, assuming it was there—when the door burst open, the edge striking him in the face and snapping his head back.

Alexander staggered, vision swimming. A woman filled the doorway, dripping raincoat clinging to her frame, hood pulled low so shadows masked her face.

“Alexander Rooke,” she whispered, savoring each syllable. “You are a hard man to find. I’ve been looking for you for some time now.”

His eyes flicked toward the door that separated him from Annie. Closed and soundproofed. Whoever this woman was, she wouldn’t be coming after him and Annie without knowing what they were capable of.

Which means she’s dangerous. Or prepared.

She followed his gaze. “Let me guess. Your friend, Annette Sheridan, is through there. You believe your victory condition in this moment is reaching her. And that I wouldn’t be hunting you if I didn’t already know what you are. Correct?”

Alexander hid his unease. Her calm confidence was more unsettling than the words. And he was getting tired of this routine.

“The only crime I’ve committed was surviving,” he growled. “Every time, it’s someone like you showing up, acting like I started this. Name a single crime I’ve committed that wasn’t self-defense.”

His comment struck home. She flinched, barely perceptible. But then her eyes hardened, and she lunged.

He hurled a chair at her legs. She vaulted gracefully, twisting midair, and drove a boot into his chest. He hit the wall gasping.

Just a leg. No augments. No superstrength.

Shoving off the wall, he grabbed the edge of a side table—Sorry, Augustus—and swung it at her head. She slid beneath and kicked him in the leg, forcing him to stumble back. A kick at his head made him block desperately; pain shot up his arm. The impact was heavy but nothing more.

There’s no way she’s a normal human hunting us. What’s her edge?

“You lose points for naivete,” she said casually, circling. “The moment you sensed something was off, you should’ve alerted your ally.”

His mind unhelpfully agreed. He scanned for something he could use.

“Still, excellent perception. Top marks for resourcefulness.” She lunged again.

One foot hit a side table, the other a wall. She ran along it, flipped, and tapped his head with her boot before landing on the holo-table between him and the door.

“Did you just step on my head?” he demanded, insulted.

She didn’t answer, but even through the hooded shadows her amusement was obvious.

Alexander narrowed his eyes and reached with Technopathy for the throne’s collection of devices. Let’s get this party started.

The room erupted. Lights strobed in a wild rhythm. A pounding boss-fight track filled the air. Smoke hissed from beneath the table. Dozens of figurines lit up, shrieking into motion.

Light cut across her features: she was attractive, with sharp lines and focused on violence. As her gaze flicked across the chaos looking for danger, Alexander lunged, clotheslining her at the knees. She yelped but caught herself before flipping back to her feet.

He didn’t pause, making a run for the door that could turn the fight in his favor. Something struck him hard in the side of the head, causing him to stumble and catch himself on another table. Glancing down, he saw a soda can spinning in place.

Outraged, he grabbed it, popped the tab, and sprayed it at her face as she charged. She shrugged off her raincoat, twirling it into the spray before driving a knee into his face with a crunch.

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My nose!

He crashed to the ground with her on top, forearm strikes raining onto the coat covering his face, battering his head repeatedly. He twisted and bucked, trying to dislodge the crazy woman.

“Your adaptability is good,” she said calmly between blows, “but your lack of training will kill you.”

You’re the only thing trying to kill me!

“But if you have nothing else to show me...”

He clawed at her waist, forcing himself to focus. Technopathy dimmed the chaos. Lights faded, sound and smoke cut off. Then electricity burst from his palms into her body, sending her spasming to the side.

Even then she somehow turned the motion into a roll, creating distance. He ripped the raincoat off, hurled it at her, and sprinted for the door.

He yanked it open. “Annie! We’ve got a—”

Metal snapped tight around his throat, tugging back as she threw him over her shoulder. He crashed onto a table with a pained grunt and slid off into a heap of stacked chairs.

Blinking, he realized she’d slapped a suppression collar on him. His powers still simmered beneath, muted but present. Removing it would take less than a thought.

But she doesn’t know that. Wait for the right moment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman tug her uniform back into place, smoothing down creased shoulders.

A ginger ball of chaos burst into the room, sword swinging overhead.

The woman dodged sideways, grabbing Annie’s head and driving a knee toward her face.

Annie caught the strike, twisted out from under her, and swung wildly for the throat. Their opponent leaned backward, barely avoiding it, then kicked the hilt out of Annie’s hands.

“I’ve never used a katana before,” she said, testing its weight. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

Annie’s metal arms twisted into curved blades. “Good thing I’ve got two more.”

“Do you know how to use them, though?”

The woman tested Annie’s defense with a swing which she blocked with crossed blade-arms. Then Annie shoved the woman back several steps, pressing forward. They danced around each other, exchanging moves. Annie’s advantage showed in the chaotic way she moved, swinging wild, bladed arms morphing at random, growing and shrinking at will.

Her opponent remained in control though. Despite her earlier claim, she wielded the stolen katana with fluid grace, staying perfectly at range.

“When you blocked the knee strike earlier, you should’ve formed a blade in your palm and disabled the joint,” she said, still teaching.

“I like it better when my enemies just try to kill me!” Annie snapped, whip-fingers stretching and cracking toward her enemy.

The woman parried smoothly. “Better. Your ability shines when improvising or fighting close.”

Step by step, Annie drove her back. Alexander untangled himself quietly, waiting for an opening.

When her back turned, he hurled a stack of chairs. She performed a sideways aerial cartwheel, landing neatly on the table. The chairs smashed into Annie, forcing her to shield herself.

“Watch it!” Annie shouted.

The woman kicked her in the face, sending her sprawling. Alexander jumped onto the table armed with a chair, but the katana met him, an inch from his nose.

“You are already disabled,” she said, voice flat. “Keep fighting, and the next step is death.”

The certainty in her tone gave him pause. Annie joined him on the table, trapping the woman between them.

They attacked together, Alexander trying to trap her blade with the chair. Annie, her arms blades once more, charged from the other side.

The woman’s expression turned serious, though Alexander could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of approval in her eyes. She swung the blade up, pivoted sharply, and brought it down towards Annie in a blur of motion. At the same time, her other leg kicked his chair aside, sending Alexander stumbling and fighting to stay on the table.

Annie threw both arms overhead, crossing them and catching the falling blade. Only for the woman to let the sword go, flow to the side, and snap a collar around Annie’s neck.

Alexander felt the second collar activate.

She knew I’d sense the devices. Kept them deactivated until she was ready to use them. Somehow she knows what I can do.

Annie tried to fight, but was yanked by the collar and thrown to the side where she crashed to the floor.

“Enough. This has been fun,” she said, stepping down from the table. “But I have questions, and you will give me answers, Mr. Rooke.”

Alexander hopped down from the table, shaking his head slightly at Annie’s hopeful glance. She was waiting for him to disarm the collars.

“You have questions?” he said “You have us at a disadvantage. Assaulting us in the middle of the night, on private property, and you haven’t even shared your name.”

She raised a brow. “Talia Kim. Agent. Badge number Alpha-77328. Investigator, Augmented Entity Governance and Investigative Service.”

Talia yanked Annie to her feet and shoved her toward him.

“I was there the day of the prison attack,” she said. “I saw you escape the fighting. The director forbade me from pursuing it. Either he didn’t believe me, or he covered it up.”

Annie nudged Alexander. “Bet she didn’t do as she was told.”

He looked down at her. “Oh, really? You don’t say?”

For a moment, amusement softened Talia’s face. Then she fixed on Alexander. “Tell me. Were you in a deep cell? Was your escape facilitated by Skybreaker’s attack?”

“Yes.”

“What was your crime?” she demanded.

He laughed coldly. “My crime? My powerset was flagged Redacted. They drugged me and wheeled me to a cremator. I woke up on the belt moments before they were going to slide me in and they didn’t like that. The next time I woke, I was in a cell.”

Talia frowned at his answer, but her eyes flickered with… anger, or satisfaction. Maybe both. Alexander wasn’t sure. He could feel his Technopathy rebelling against the collar’s suppression, his Electrokinesis rising with it, both responding to his emotions.

“Everything since has been me running for my life. Those techs tried to murder me. Annie defended me, so they tried to kill her too. We survived.”

“I suspected as much,” Talia whispered. “Santiago Systems is hiding something, just like the other mega-corporations. There are rumors of people disappearing worldwide.”

“Then let us go,” Annie urged. “That’s what a hero would do.”

Talia’s gaze drifted, thoughtful.

Alexander frowned. Sensing something overhead, he glanced up at the ceiling. Angry. Red.

It felt familiar.

Where have I—

Alexander’s eyes widened in recognition. “Under the table, now!” he barked, dragging Annie down with him.

He caught the single, deliberate pause Talia took before diving under with the katana in hand.

Then the building exploded.