{Arachis: Night}
Steam rose around Maya as she sank deeper into the jacuzzi, the scalding water doing little to burn away the guilt clinging to her skin. For my child, she repeated like a mantra, the words losing meaning with each repetition. I would kill. I would lie. I would burn this world to ashes.
When her fingers had pruned beyond recognition, she finally emerged, wrapping herself in a towel that felt too thin against the chill of betrayal. A snap of her fingers brought the holoscreen to life, but the news hadn't changed. Cliffhaven. The Duke's murder. The same panicked journalists circling the story like vultures
Well it wasn't every day a Count was murdered but a Duke? A rarity, an extreme one.
She then turned it off. The silence felt heavier.
In the kitchen, her hands moved on their own—finding wine, retrieving a glass. But when she stepped back into the sitting room, the bottle slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor
Duron sat in her favorite chair, his gaze carving right through her.
"What the fuck?" The words tore from her throat, raw and shaking.
His intense stare lasted a heartbeat longer before his expression shifted entirely, smooth as oil. "Am I not welcome?" he asked, a smile gracing his lips—so genuine it was terrifying.
"You knock! You fucking knock!" The words ripped from her, sharp with a fear she disguised as rage.
"Garlack reports to Winston. Winston asked me to return your… property." He held up the green vial. "I had every reason to be here." Calmly, he strode to the cabinet and selected another bottle. "You'll need another glass."
Maya stood frozen, heart hammering. Was this it? Had they found her out? Slowly, mechanically, she fetched a second glass. Her hands shook as she poured.
They drank in tense silence, eyes locked. Maya's mind raced—every instinct screamed danger.
"What do you—" she began, but Duron raised a finger to his lips.
Her protest died as he placed a small device on the table. A blue forcefield bloomed silently, encasing the room before fading to invisibility.
Maya stumbled back, green aura flaring around her like emerald fire. "Stay away from me!"
Duron didn't move. He took a slow sip of wine, utterly unbothered. "I'm not here to kill you, Maya."
Her pulse roared in her ears. He was a Count—a real fighter, a veteran of the horrors beyond the Safe Zones. She was a researcher. If he wanted her dead, she would be.
"What the fuck do you want?" she whispered, her voice thin
"The truth." He tilted the green vial between his fingers. "Njdeka cleared it. Non-reactive. Winston thought it'd make a good trap." He smirked. "Convenient, isn't it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Come on, you can speak freely—that's the whole point of the barrier." He stood, and she instinctively retreated. "No one can hear us.
A sliver of killing intent slipped through his calm—cold, serpentine, coiling around her throat like a snake strangling its prey.
"What is your mission?
"I don't know—"
"Oh really?" Duron said as he popped open the vial.
"No!" she cried out.
"Relax." He let a single drop fall onto his hand. It vanished into his skin. A moment later, the skin on his neck shimmered, and a tattoo seemed to bleed into existence from beneath the surface: an eye embedded in a black palm.
Maya's aura roared back to life.
"You fucking snake!" Maya roared. "You're one of them." She added.
"That's hypocritical coming from you." Duron said with a smirk. "You're also as good as one of us."
"How--"
"--do I know?" Duron stole the words from her mouth.
"I know everything Maya, this contains Lady Nefertiti's blood." He said as he wiggled the vial.
"I've been properly informed by my lady herself." he added.
"Your lady?" Maya's voice was barely audible.
"I am a disciple of the Eighth Hand of the Divine." His tone shifted, reverent and cold. "This mark is a symbiote. It lets her plant her will in me from anywhere. I am her vessel. Her command is my purpose."
Silence hung between them for a terrible, stretching second.
"You fucker!" She launched herself at him—all fury, no technique. He sidestepped effortlessly, and she crashed into the wall.
"Careful," he chided. "You'll break the sound barrier. And we can't have that.
"How?" she gasped, pushing herself up. "Communications are monitored—"
"This." He touched the tattoo. "But that's all you get tonight." He tossed the vial to her; she caught it on reflex. "I've been instructed to assist you. Whatever you need, come to me."
Without another word, he left. The barrier dropped silently.
Maya collapsed onto the sofa, the vial clutched in her hand. A pawn. She was a pawn in a game she no longer controlled, and the board was drenched in blood.
---
Outside of her quarters, about almost 300 meters away. Leo stood on a rooftop with Vanessa, whose scarlet colored hair gleamed in the moonlight like heated coal.
"Anything?" Vanessa asked, Leo who seemed extremely focused.
"Nothing." Leo replied. "It's like a sound barrier went up the moment we got here. We missed it." He added.
"He knows we're onto him." Vanessa said and Leo let out a sigh.
"Well, so much for using Maya as bait." Leo added.
She sighed, hand resting on her hip. "We need to resolve this before the Poseidonis delegate arrives."
"Delegate?" Leo asked for clarification.
"A 'diplomat'." Her fingers sketched quotation marks in the air. "Really, he's Nega's personal guard. Sent to protect the prince. Against the rules, so they're pretending."
Leo's jaw tightened. "I see."
"Come on," Vanessa said, turning away. "Let's go tell Winston we failed."
She leapt from the roof, silent as a shadow. Leo lingered a moment longer, eyes on the moon."
The world really is ending," he murmured to the night. "I just hope… when it does, we chose the right side."