GOLDEN AGE | ON HIATUS

IX | SASHA

This, obviously, was not the case.

These people were not here for a friendly chat, for a cup of tea and some freshly baked cookies. They looked more like warlords, the pink-dressed one wearing a belt lined with guns, and the other girl, who looked to be around Sasha's age, armed with two huge grinning daggers that she slid into a holster around her waist. Both of the daggers were exquisite, one of them appearing to be black onyx and the other covered in golden veins.

This was no street kid's weaponry - it looked more like something a mercenary would carry, probably made in a lab somewhere in West Semper. Grand, expensive, deadly. It was something a professional killer would have.

"You have three seconds," Wildfire said, tapping his foot.

His voice drew Sasha's eyes away from the weapons and over to him, hair messy and eyes sharp.

"Fine. Finn Johnson and Nar-"

"Time's up."

"No, wait," Sasha interrupted. "Let her finish." Folding her arms over her chest, she suppressed the chill that went down her spine at the mention of her best friend's name.

"Finn and Narcissa are on our side. We're coming to transport you so that you can meet. That's what you were planning on doing, weren't you?" the other girl said, who hadn't yet spoken. Her eyes caught the light, and Sasha realised that they were a faded purple.

"What's the word?"

The girl stifled a laugh as she said it. "Sash drinks goat milk. That's you," she stated, looking point-blankly at her.

Sasha didn't bother arguing, but nodded wearily. "He did send them."

"No."

An unfamiliar voice sunk into the air from the direction of the window, and a black-haired girl wearing a leather jacket appeared, leaning against the chair on the other side of the room.

"I did."

It had been four years since she'd last been seen by any Crux member for a long enough time to be photographed, but Sasha still recognised Narcissa Corvus unmistakably. Her hair was far shorter, now barely skimming her shoulders, and there was a sort of sunkeness to her body, but her face was the same. Almond-shaped black-brown eyes were framed by high cheekbones, below that, full red lips and a softly pointed chin.

She was undeniably beautiful, Crux's science obviously having done wonders to her appearance. They'd done it to all of them, meddled with their genetics to create four people that were pleasing to the eyes of the public, albeit one far later than the others. Not much work had been done on Sasha - just made her lips plumper, nose smaller and gotten rid of the scar on her jaw where she'd cut herself on a broken window.

She couldn't imagine that they'd done much work on any of them, not in that way. Crux were obsessive about appearance, but even they drew the line. Nonetheless, the heroes of Project ORDER were as physically perfect as science would allow. They were vain, sure, but wasn't everyone, deep down?

Idealistic though she was, Sasha knew that looks mattered, and pretending that they didn't was just lying to herself and everyone around her.