Chapter Title: Blood Tides and Buried Truths"You look older than I imagined. The cold's not kind to you, huh?"Lila’s voice cut through the air, sharp as shattered ice.Arika smirked, slow and poisonous. “And you still greet people like you’re handing out ultimatums.”“I only greet the ones who fake their deaths and sell lies for a living.”Arika’s eyes flicked down her nose, unfazed. “Still bitter, I see. At least that hasn’t aged.”The wind between them twisted, biting through cloth and bone alike. They stood ten paces apart in the heart of the abandoned clearing, surrounded by cracked concrete and frost-covered crates. The silence of the ruin only emphasized how violently the past clawed its way into the present.“You died,” Lila said, voice low now. Controlled. “That’s what they told me. What you let them tell me.”“They weren’t wrong,” Arika replied smoothly. “Not entirely.”Lila scoffed. “You faked your death and vanished. What else was I supposed to believe?”“That I had a rea
Lila’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. That sentence—so personal, so venomous—stuck in her like a blade wedged between ribs.Arika didn’t wait for her to recover. She turned and walked slowly toward the edge of the clearing, her fingers brushing the frost-covered rail of a long-abandoned cargo lift. The silence between them thickened.“I had a guest once,” Arika called over her shoulder, too casual. “You might know him. Salicus Grante.”Lila’s body snapped to attention.The name landed like a hammer.“You’re lying.”Arika looked back, one eyebrow raised. “Am I?”“Salicus is dead.”Arika gave a mocking little shrug. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? Or just what you hope is true?”Lila took a shaky step forward. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “Where. Did. You. See. Him.”“Here. There. Doesn’t matter,” Arika said. “He’s a wanderer. A very persistent one. Had a few... interesting stories about you, too. I see where you get your taste in men.”Lila’s hands
The locket in Arika’s hand glinted one last time in the fading light before she tucked it into the folds of her coat, her fingers twitching as though the cold no longer bothered her—just the past that still clung to her skin.But Lila wasn’t finished.Not yet.She turned slowly, like a predator toying with a rival too confident for her own good. “You know,” she said conversationally, her voice laced with honeyed venom, “for someone who prides herself on good taste, I’m surprised you didn’t notice the warning signs.”Arika’s head tilted. “What signs?”Lila’s smile was all razor-edge charm. “Oh, just that Salicus was riddled with diseases. Biochemical ones. I should know—I left him with a few.”The blow landed with precision. A flicker of something passed through Arika’s expression—a stutter in her breath, a twitch at the corner of her mouth. She masked it quickly, but not quickly enough.“You’re bluffing,” Arika said, voice clipped.“Am I?” Lila stepped closer, letting her words drip.
Frostbite and Fireworks:"“You sure you’re not walking me into a trap?”Lila’s voice cut through the storm, low and razor-sharp, carried on the wind like a blade tossed by fate."Would I waste this much time just to kill you?” Arika replied without glancing back, her silhouette a blur through the thick curtain of snow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”"You’ve done worse for less."Lila adjusted the grip on her sidearm beneath her coat, every muscle coiled. “And you still haven’t answered how you got the servers out of here without leaving a trail.”"You'll see.”It wasn’t a tease. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise laced with something darker—familiar, dangerous, and maddeningly vague.The snowstorm howled around them like a feral thing, wind battering exposed skin and biting through layers as they trudged deeper into the derelict port grounds. Long-dead cranes loomed like rusted sentinels, skeletal and forgotten. The place reeked of salt, decay, and memory.Lila kept scanning—trees, rooft
The Vault’s Truth:Arika’s voice cut through the still air like a blade. “You ever stop and ask yourself what the point of it all is?”Lila didn’t answer immediately. The faint hum of the servers was the only sound between them. Outside, the snow still howled, muffled through thick bunker walls. Her fingers hovered over the tablet screen, pulling fragments of data—locations, funds, faces of corrupt officials—but her mind was already one step ahead.“I used to,” she said finally, gaze still fixed on the display. “I used to think the world was rotten to the core. That maybe if I set a match to everything, it’d feel better.”Arika snorted. “It doesn’t.”“No,” Lila agreed, voice softer now. “It just burns you with it.”That silenced Arika for a beat. Lila glanced over, catching the flicker of doubt that cracked through her sister’s sarcasm.“You sound like one of those therapy podcasts the Alphas play for their anxious mates.”“I sound like someone who’s been burned before.” Lila turned o
Lila followed Arika up the ramp, her boots clinking softly against the grated metal, heart thudding louder with each step. Something in Arika’s voice lingered like smoke—too calm, too measured. She didn’t trust it. Not for a second.“You keep the data onboard?” Lila asked, eyes flicking to the wall-mounted surveillance cams. The ship’s interior was sleek but sterile, with black paneling and chrome fixtures. Cold. Like its owner.“No,” Arika said, stopping at a narrow corridor. “I keep my insurance onboard.”She keyed a code into the control pad, and a mechanical hiss broke the silence. A door slid open, revealing a freight elevator platform.“After you,” Arika said with a mock bow.Lila stepped in cautiously, hand still near her weapon. The platform hummed, descending smoothly into the ship’s belly. A few seconds passed in silence. Arika didn’t move. Didn’t smile.Then the metal chamber opened—and Lila’s breath caught.Rows of blinking machines lined the container-sized space. The ser
“You’re insane, Arika. You know that, right?”“Insane?” Arika’s voice oozed with mockery. “Please. That’s such a civilian diagnosis.”Lila’s fists clenched as she took another step forward, her eyes locked on the massive screen overhead—00:09:56. The red numbers blinked with a deadly calmness, each second ticking away a piece of her resolve. Beneath the screen, her servers stood like monuments to everything she’d fought for. Wired with explosives.“You’re going to kill us both,” Lila spat, her voice shaking with fury. “All of this—just to prove a point?”“Oh no, darling.” Arika twirled the sleek detonator in her hand, its silver surface catching the dim light. “Not to prove a point. To make one.”“You planted explosives on the servers!” Lila’s voice rose, ragged. “Are you listening to yourself?”Arika chuckled softly, stepping aside to reveal a clearer view of the blinking red lights wired into each server unit. “I told you this was always bigger than us. You just didn’t want to belie
Arika collapsed to her knees, hands trembling. “It was supposed to end. I needed it to end.”Lila stared at her for a long moment. The woman before her wasn’t just a villain. She was broken. And dangerous.But she was also her sister.“I’m not giving you the keys,” Lila said softly. “And I’m not letting you destroy this.”The red glow of the screen illuminated both their faces—sweat, grime, blood.It was over.But it wasn’t.Not even close.With a sudden, primal scream, Arika lunged upward, throwing herself at Lila with bone-snapping force.Lila staggered, taken off guard by the sheer desperation behind the charge. Arika’s elbow jammed into her chest, sending her reeling against the grated floor of the container. Sparks showered around them from dislodged cables. A warning alarm somewhere nearby wailed, short and sharp.Arika didn’t stop.She pounced again—this time, tackling Lila to the ground. Both women hit the metal floor hard, their bodies tangled in fury and pain. The detonator
...Her vision darkened at the edges. Her muscles slackened.The poison was winning.But she’d stopped the countdown.She’d stopped her.And that was worth every drop of blood.“I thought you were smarter than this,” Arika’s voice cracked through the silence like a whip, low and bitter. “But you’re still just the broken girl who doesn’t know when to give up.”Lila barely had time to look up before she heard the click.Arika had drawn a second weapon—a sleek silver-plated handgun—and was aiming it straight at her.“Guess what this one’s loaded with,” Arika sneered. “Silver. Custom made. Just for you.”Lila’s instincts screamed. Her own weapon trembled in her bleeding hand as she forced herself upright. Her breath was sharp, her body sluggish. But her mind? Sharp. Deadly.She raised her gun to match Arika’s.Both women locked eyes, frozen, guns trained on each other in the flickering red light of the destroyed container. Sparks flared behind them, the silence stretching tight like a live
Arika collapsed to her knees, hands trembling. “It was supposed to end. I needed it to end.”Lila stared at her for a long moment. The woman before her wasn’t just a villain. She was broken. And dangerous.But she was also her sister.“I’m not giving you the keys,” Lila said softly. “And I’m not letting you destroy this.”The red glow of the screen illuminated both their faces—sweat, grime, blood.It was over.But it wasn’t.Not even close.With a sudden, primal scream, Arika lunged upward, throwing herself at Lila with bone-snapping force.Lila staggered, taken off guard by the sheer desperation behind the charge. Arika’s elbow jammed into her chest, sending her reeling against the grated floor of the container. Sparks showered around them from dislodged cables. A warning alarm somewhere nearby wailed, short and sharp.Arika didn’t stop.She pounced again—this time, tackling Lila to the ground. Both women hit the metal floor hard, their bodies tangled in fury and pain. The detonator
“You’re insane, Arika. You know that, right?”“Insane?” Arika’s voice oozed with mockery. “Please. That’s such a civilian diagnosis.”Lila’s fists clenched as she took another step forward, her eyes locked on the massive screen overhead—00:09:56. The red numbers blinked with a deadly calmness, each second ticking away a piece of her resolve. Beneath the screen, her servers stood like monuments to everything she’d fought for. Wired with explosives.“You’re going to kill us both,” Lila spat, her voice shaking with fury. “All of this—just to prove a point?”“Oh no, darling.” Arika twirled the sleek detonator in her hand, its silver surface catching the dim light. “Not to prove a point. To make one.”“You planted explosives on the servers!” Lila’s voice rose, ragged. “Are you listening to yourself?”Arika chuckled softly, stepping aside to reveal a clearer view of the blinking red lights wired into each server unit. “I told you this was always bigger than us. You just didn’t want to belie
Lila followed Arika up the ramp, her boots clinking softly against the grated metal, heart thudding louder with each step. Something in Arika’s voice lingered like smoke—too calm, too measured. She didn’t trust it. Not for a second.“You keep the data onboard?” Lila asked, eyes flicking to the wall-mounted surveillance cams. The ship’s interior was sleek but sterile, with black paneling and chrome fixtures. Cold. Like its owner.“No,” Arika said, stopping at a narrow corridor. “I keep my insurance onboard.”She keyed a code into the control pad, and a mechanical hiss broke the silence. A door slid open, revealing a freight elevator platform.“After you,” Arika said with a mock bow.Lila stepped in cautiously, hand still near her weapon. The platform hummed, descending smoothly into the ship’s belly. A few seconds passed in silence. Arika didn’t move. Didn’t smile.Then the metal chamber opened—and Lila’s breath caught.Rows of blinking machines lined the container-sized space. The ser
The Vault’s Truth:Arika’s voice cut through the still air like a blade. “You ever stop and ask yourself what the point of it all is?”Lila didn’t answer immediately. The faint hum of the servers was the only sound between them. Outside, the snow still howled, muffled through thick bunker walls. Her fingers hovered over the tablet screen, pulling fragments of data—locations, funds, faces of corrupt officials—but her mind was already one step ahead.“I used to,” she said finally, gaze still fixed on the display. “I used to think the world was rotten to the core. That maybe if I set a match to everything, it’d feel better.”Arika snorted. “It doesn’t.”“No,” Lila agreed, voice softer now. “It just burns you with it.”That silenced Arika for a beat. Lila glanced over, catching the flicker of doubt that cracked through her sister’s sarcasm.“You sound like one of those therapy podcasts the Alphas play for their anxious mates.”“I sound like someone who’s been burned before.” Lila turned o
Frostbite and Fireworks:"“You sure you’re not walking me into a trap?”Lila’s voice cut through the storm, low and razor-sharp, carried on the wind like a blade tossed by fate."Would I waste this much time just to kill you?” Arika replied without glancing back, her silhouette a blur through the thick curtain of snow. “Don’t flatter yourself.”"You’ve done worse for less."Lila adjusted the grip on her sidearm beneath her coat, every muscle coiled. “And you still haven’t answered how you got the servers out of here without leaving a trail.”"You'll see.”It wasn’t a tease. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise laced with something darker—familiar, dangerous, and maddeningly vague.The snowstorm howled around them like a feral thing, wind battering exposed skin and biting through layers as they trudged deeper into the derelict port grounds. Long-dead cranes loomed like rusted sentinels, skeletal and forgotten. The place reeked of salt, decay, and memory.Lila kept scanning—trees, rooft
The locket in Arika’s hand glinted one last time in the fading light before she tucked it into the folds of her coat, her fingers twitching as though the cold no longer bothered her—just the past that still clung to her skin.But Lila wasn’t finished.Not yet.She turned slowly, like a predator toying with a rival too confident for her own good. “You know,” she said conversationally, her voice laced with honeyed venom, “for someone who prides herself on good taste, I’m surprised you didn’t notice the warning signs.”Arika’s head tilted. “What signs?”Lila’s smile was all razor-edge charm. “Oh, just that Salicus was riddled with diseases. Biochemical ones. I should know—I left him with a few.”The blow landed with precision. A flicker of something passed through Arika’s expression—a stutter in her breath, a twitch at the corner of her mouth. She masked it quickly, but not quickly enough.“You’re bluffing,” Arika said, voice clipped.“Am I?” Lila stepped closer, letting her words drip.
Lila’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. That sentence—so personal, so venomous—stuck in her like a blade wedged between ribs.Arika didn’t wait for her to recover. She turned and walked slowly toward the edge of the clearing, her fingers brushing the frost-covered rail of a long-abandoned cargo lift. The silence between them thickened.“I had a guest once,” Arika called over her shoulder, too casual. “You might know him. Salicus Grante.”Lila’s body snapped to attention.The name landed like a hammer.“You’re lying.”Arika looked back, one eyebrow raised. “Am I?”“Salicus is dead.”Arika gave a mocking little shrug. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? Or just what you hope is true?”Lila took a shaky step forward. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “Where. Did. You. See. Him.”“Here. There. Doesn’t matter,” Arika said. “He’s a wanderer. A very persistent one. Had a few... interesting stories about you, too. I see where you get your taste in men.”Lila’s hands
Chapter Title: Blood Tides and Buried Truths"You look older than I imagined. The cold's not kind to you, huh?"Lila’s voice cut through the air, sharp as shattered ice.Arika smirked, slow and poisonous. “And you still greet people like you’re handing out ultimatums.”“I only greet the ones who fake their deaths and sell lies for a living.”Arika’s eyes flicked down her nose, unfazed. “Still bitter, I see. At least that hasn’t aged.”The wind between them twisted, biting through cloth and bone alike. They stood ten paces apart in the heart of the abandoned clearing, surrounded by cracked concrete and frost-covered crates. The silence of the ruin only emphasized how violently the past clawed its way into the present.“You died,” Lila said, voice low now. Controlled. “That’s what they told me. What you let them tell me.”“They weren’t wrong,” Arika replied smoothly. “Not entirely.”Lila scoffed. “You faked your death and vanished. What else was I supposed to believe?”“That I had a rea