Shift followed Athira into a room that looked like it could have been a monitoring station for the building before she'd arrived and torn through it.
Tables had been thrown. Screens were smashed. The floor was littered with shards of glass and ceramic that looked to be a mix of vials, equipment, and coffee mugs. Eight unconscious individuals — mostly Elites — were scattered around the room, their blood speckled across the grey tiles.
The only exception to the chaos was a single scientist, awake, terrified, and bound to his chair with crystal Black in front of what seemed to be the only functioning computer in the room.
"That's Jeffrey," said Athira, flicking a finger towards the scientist as she passed him. "He was most helpful in answering my questions after he saw what happened to the Elites that didn't."
Athira stopped in front of the large, glass wall that Shift recognised as the central dome he'd seen earlier. The glass had the faint, ruby sheen of Redresin — the same stuff the Elites had slowly rebuilt the city from over the past decade or two.
"This Sleeper energy they're playing with isn't just a Colour," continued Athira, folding her arms. "It's a Sin. Sloth, to be precise. And these geniuses decided that they'd use that machine inside the dome to extract its essence, causing a Surge every time they did."
Her words sent a chill down Shift's spine as he looked over the sleek, grey construction sunk into the sloping stone at the centre of the dome. "If Sloth's trapped in Thols, then where's Rathe?"
"No idea," replied Athira. "But that's a mystery for another time. Right now, I need to make sure they can never use the damned extractor again. Jeffrey here tells me the only way to shut it down permanently would be to remove it, and apparently, it goes down a very long way."
Shift eyed the single, enclosed catwalk that extended into the dome where it met the top of the extractor. "Can we even do that?"
"I can," said Athira quietly, one arm tight around her waist as the other fiddled with her amulet. "The problem is, if that dome is filled with Sloth residue, I can't go in there. It'll have to be untethered Black."
Shift didn't need to see her face to understand her hesitation. "You can do it. I'll be with you the whole time."
"That's what I'm worried about," muttered Athira, continuing into the next room as they headed towards the entrance of the catwalk.
The next room was little more than rows of glass-doored cupboards filled with perfectly spaced vials of faintly glowing violet that cast an eerie glow around the room, but the room after that made Shift hesitate.
There were four Sleepers trapped in semi-transparent Red-shaped boxes. They looked identical to the one Indigo had fought at the subway station, though these were only a fraction of the size.
"Sloth residue," said Athira, noticing him looking at them. "Extracting Sloth's essence has been waking it up. It started leaking into places it shouldn't have been and coagulating into Sleepers."
Shift gave the enclosures a slightly wider berth as the Sleepers pawed at the edges. "Explains why a certain someone's Yellow worked on them a whole lot better than anything else."
They moved into the next room, which, thankfully, contained nothing except a few cupboards with hazmat suits. Athira opened the door to the dome's catwalk with a flicker of Black. Shift followed her inside. Their footsteps echoed off the narrow glass tunnel — Shift's far more than hers, no matter how softly he tried to place his feet.
"I should have known it was a Sin earlier," Athira muttered as she opened the second door of the catwalk's airlock. "I considered it after Reader sent me to Grandma's to learn about Spectrum, but even without that — the Surges always being below ground, the stories saying Sins were trapped at the core of a planet, the Sleeper goo showing up through the Black, just like Rathe's fire does." She huffed, passing through the third door. "I just never thought someone would actually be stupid enough to try and harness one."
"We'll make sure they don't get the chance to do it again," said Shift, placing a hand on Athira's shoulder when they stopped just short of the fourth and final door that separated them from the faint, violet mist that swirled inside the dome. "Once you've destroyed the extractor, we'll gather what evidence we can and take it back to the others. I don't care if I have to drag these Elites back to the surface myself."
To his surprise, Athira reached her own hand up and rested it on top of Shift's, her gaze fixed ahead on the sleek, grey exterior of the extractor on the other side of the glass.
"Once I start this, I'm not going to stop until the whole thing's gone or I am," she said quietly. "I don't know how it'll go with the Sloth gas and so much Black, but if my runes even look like they're going to break, I want you to run."
"I'm not—" he began.
"No," she said sharply, her fingers tightening on his hand. "None of this 'I'm not leaving you' or 'you can do it' crap. If my runes break, you run. You leave me here." Her head turned towards him, her mask doing nothing to lessen the force of her stare. "Promise me."
Shift returned her gaze for a long moment, until reluctantly, he found himself nodding.
"Good," said Athira, deflating. She dropped her hand away and knelt, placing her palms flat against the floor. "Then let's see exactly how deep this thing goes."
It was rare to see Athira use her Black untethered from her body. She was always so careful about keeping it controlled and close, but he'd seen glimpses of what she was capable of. Against Rathe, against the Sleeper to save Zoe — and, he realised, in the Underground to save him during the arena match.
Athira's runes flared a brilliant aqua as Black slowly began to spread over the metallic surface of the extractor inside the dome. Her shoulders hunched in pain and she bit down on a gasp, but the Black was quickly picking up the pace. It wasn't long before the entire exposed surface of the extractor was engulfed and the Black was plunging downward, reaching for the rest of it hidden inside the stone.
Movement on the far side of the dome caught Shift's attention. Through the glass, he spotted two Elites heading straight for the entrance of the catwalk.
"We've got company," said Shift.
Her reply was strained. "I can't—"
"You keep going," said Shift. "I'll keep them busy."
With one last encouraging touch on Athira's shoulder, Shift went to meet the newcomers.
Shift strode down the catwalk. He passed through two of the airlock doors but stopped before the last that opened into the main building. Staying on the catwalk meant they could only come at him one at a time, and he doubted they'd be willing to break the glass knowing what lurked on the other side.
The pair of Elites reached the entrance to the catwalk, and now they were closer, Shift knew they weren't Elites. Their suits looked almost identical, but there was a strange shimmer to the fabric that hinted at what they truly were.
"Wardens," said Shift as they opened the door. He sketched a shallow, mocking bow even as he kept his eyes locked on them. "The catwalk is occupied at the moment. I'll have to ask you to come back later—occupational health and safety standards and all that. I'm sure you understand."
"Is this the one we want?" the Red Warden asked her partner, ignoring Shift.
"No," said the other Warden, a man in a yellow suit. "The girl's the priority right now."
The Red Warden started forward with such a bored kind of confidence that Shift was reminded of Athira.
"Maybe you didn't hear me," said Shift, adjusting his stance. "Catwalk's closed, buddy."
The Warden shaped a spear into her hands and attacked.
Shift met the tip of the spear with a Black-engulfed palm. As the Red dissolved, he grabbed for the shaft of the spear with his second uncovered hand, intending to yank the Warden off balance, but the Warden was fast. She pulled back, her gaze flicking between the now-blunt end of her spear and the Black on Shift's hand.
"I see," said the Warden, reshaping the end of her spear into a larger point and jabbing it towards Shift once more.
Shift went to repeat his earlier action, but when the spear came close to his hand, its tip split into four narrow cords. They spun out wide, avoiding Shift's hand and wrapping around his upper arm.
The Warden pulled, intending to drag Shift out of the narrow catwalk. Shift's boots slid along the ground as he covered his second hand in Black and swiped it through the cords. Freed, Shift regained a few steps backwards, though his retreat didn't last long as the Red Warden shaped a new barrage of cords and launched them straight at Shift.
Shift spread the Black up his arms, desperate for a little more wiggle room. For every cord he severed, there were two more to take their place. They actively responded to Shift's attempts at dodging, grabbing at any part of him that wasn't covered in Black and dragging him that little bit closer to the Wardens.
It was a rare ability in Reds to be able to control what you'd shaped after the fact and this woman had mastered it, which meant that Shift needed a new plan.
In typical Shift fashion, he only had one, slightly idiotic idea — and so, the next time the cords grabbed him, Shift let them pull him in.
The cords coiled around his chest, tight enough to restrict his breathing and pin his arms to his sides. Shift made a show of struggling until he was out of the catwalk and in range of the Warden, at which point, he released a small burst of Black across his body. The cords dissolved, and in the split second where he'd caught the Warden off guard, Shift jabbed a Black-covered arm straight into the Warden's throat.
The Warden choked on a gasp. Shift pushed his advantage, following his strike up with two more as the Warden shaped a rapidly expanding block of Red between them to push him back. Improvising, Shift launched himself up and over with Black on the sole of his boot, aiming his next jab for the Warden's eyes when an invisible force slammed into his side and threw him into a nearby cupboard.
Pain lanced through Shift's chest as his blurring vision landed on the Yellow Warden's lowering arm. Some kind of shockwave ability. Great.
It took Shift a moment to get back on his feet among the tangle of hazmat suits that'd been in the cupboard. Every breath felt like a knife in his side, but that was fine. He didn't have to win. He just had to buy Athira enough time to destroy the extractor and join him.
The Yellow Warden pulled back his arm. Shift re-coated his extremities in Black, and as the Warden shoved his hand forward, Shift flung himself to the side.
The faintly Yellow blast of energy skimmed by him. Shift recovered, ready to push off the Black on his boot and launch himself at the Warden when, with a gesture from the Warden, the shockwave returned, striking an unexpecting Shift in the back.
Shift crashed face-first into the far wall, unable to stop the cry of pain as something cracked. Gasping for breath, he fell back, vaguely aware of footsteps approaching him but unable to get back up before the Yellow Warden stood over him.
"Stay down next time," said the Warden, Yellow at his fingertips.
The last thing Shift saw was the Warden's hand slamming down towards his head before he blacked out.
*+*+*+*
Through miles of stone, Athira heard Shift's scream.
Slowly, she surfaced from the flooding Black, sinking back into her senses. The smell of the sterilised air. The coolness of the catwalk beneath her palms. The searing line of agony that ran from wrist to back.
The fury that burned beneath it all.
Dazed, she stood, his scream the only thing echoing through her head in the seconds it took her to turn. To see him, lying motionless on the floor in the room at the end of the catwalk beneath the feet of a man in a yellow suit.
The fury ignited.
Black flickered around her as she clenched her fists, erasing what she'd managed to cover of the extractor with half a thought before stalking down the catwalk. There was someone in the way — a woman in a red suit, yelling something about surrender.
Athira grabbed the woman by the throat with untethered Black and threw her backwards through the airlock doors. They shattered on impact, and the glass that rained down on the woman's face drew blood the same colour as her suit as Athira stepped over her.
She deserves nothing less.
The man in the yellow suit was next. He saw her coming, but it didn't matter. Black engulfed him and flung him to the side — though whether into a cupboard, the wall, or off the edge of Thols itself, Athira didn't care as she knelt beside Shift among the mess of cracked tiles and placed a gentle hand over his chest.
Alive — he was alive, but his breaths were shallow. Hitched. Pained.
Athira forced herself to breathe, to rein in the urge to give form to the rage that thrashed inside her chest and think, vaguely aware of the brush of Talon's wings somewhere inside her mindscape.
She'd done what she needed to do here, at least for tonight. She could take him back to base for help. Find Zoe. Destroy that armband before—
A rush of air passed over her hair.
The tip of something Red clattered to the ground beside her. Athira turned her head, finding the culprit — the woman — holding the stump of a shaped weapon in her hands.
"You dare?" growled Athira, pressing her hand a little harder onto Shift's chest to remind herself why she couldn't lose control — why she had to let them live when the man in the yellow suit raised his arm towards her.
With the curl of her fingers, Athira grabbed the man's wrist in untethered Black and jerked it to the side. A wave of energy slammed into the glass wall of the dome, spider webbing cracks across its surface.
And now, Athira knew why the tiles beneath Shift's head were broken.
"It was you," said Athira, reading the evidence around the room. The cracks on the nearby wall — Shift had been thrown against it and fallen back to where he lay now. The man in the yellow suit had stood over Shift, aimed at his head, and— "When he was down."
"He is guilty of working with a villain," said the man with an imperious, infuriating tone. "He deserves—"
Athira barely heard him. Could barely hear anything over the roaring in her ears as the faint, bitter scent of lavender invaded her mouth.
Exact your vengeance.
She raised a hand, engulfing them both in untethered Black mid-attack. Side by side, she forced them to their knees, taking a moment to remove her cloak and drape it over Shift's motionless form before she stalked towards her captives.
"You both know what's going on at this facility, I presume," said Athira. She placed a hand on each forehead and dug her fingertips in hard enough to make them squirm. "Why don't I show you the results of your efforts?"
She reached for their mindscapes, intending to drag them into hers and let them experience a Sin first-hand when she paused. Their mindscapes felt older than she'd expected, and curious, Athira spent a moment probing further when she found something unexpected.
Tethers — one Red, one Yellow — both swollen and fat, linking their mindscapes to some place far, far below. The tethers pulsed with a frantic kind of desperation — desperation, Athira realised, as they attempted to draw on their Colour and failed.
Rathe could wait. She had a better idea.
With the same mercy they'd shown Shift, Athira engulfed the mindscape tethers in Black and smothered them.
She stepped back and released their bodies. They fell forward, gasping and scrabbling across the tiles like the pathetic wastes of life they were. The Red recovered first, making a similar gesture as earlier when she'd shaped a weapon to her hands.
Nothing happened.
"My Red," said the woman, nearly choking on the words as she stared at her empty hands. "It's—"
Athira drove her knee into the side of the woman's head, sending her sprawling.
Break them.
"What's wrong?" asked Athira, the scent of lavender thick on her tongue. She placed her boot against the woman's knee and pressed down hard, drawing out a scream. "Something missing?"
"You—you took—" someone gibbered behind her.
Athira glanced over her shoulder, where the yellow-suited man had his arm raised at her back, his trembling fingers completely devoid of their earlier glimmer of Yellow.
"Not going to attack me?" said Athira, turning towards him. She lifted him up by his collar with untethered Black so they were eye level. "Or do you only attack helpless opponents?"
Let them know your wrath.
Athira went to slam him into the ceiling, but the Black resisted her. It crystallised around his throat and pulled back from her hands — like someone was fighting her for control.
Thira, stop! The voice was distant, easily drowned beneath the roaring of her thoughts, the claws that felt more like a caress. The dome cracked; you're breathing in—
End their threat, growled Rathe. Prove that you meant your promise. Show them what it means to cross you.
Athira grabbed the yellow-suited man by the hair. He slashed at her arms with a shard of glass — a cut that healed in a flicker of Black.
Anything, she'd promised.
And to ensure they never touched Shift again, she'd keep it.
*+*+*+*
A/N - Next chapter: 👀