As if answering Luna's magic, ripples of radiance coursed across the
dome's surface, weaving brief patterns of light high above before
gradually fading back into silence. Elia stared, awe swelling in her
chest until it broke into a quick, uneven breath. She hurried forward
and steadied Luna by the shoulders. "Are you alright?"
Though her face was pale, Luna forced a light smile. "I'm fine… just a
little dizzy." She blinked, her gaze flicking to the core pillar, its
surface still faintly aglow. "For a moment there, I thought I heard its
voice… as if…" She cut herself off and shook her head. "Never mind."
Her knees buckled and she nearly fell, but Elia caught her in time.
"You've pushed yourself too hard. Rest for a bit."
Luna drew a few deep breaths, then straightened to show she was steady.
Their eyes met, and both of them laughed—relief after surviving, a
fragile joy of victory. But Elia's smile faded quickly.
Her gaze hardened in the direction the Black Wing hacker had fled. "They
won't stop here. Today's attack was unprecedented—I refuse to believe it
was just a failed act of sabotage." Her fingers flew over the terminal,
pulling up the core's system records. "I need to know exactly what they
did."
No sooner had she spoken than a stream of unfamiliar data surged across
the screen. Elia's pupils narrowed. "No… they downloaded part of the
core's data!"
Luna held her breath. "What kind of data?"
Elia's hands raced across the keys, her expression darkening. "The
contents are encrypted… but judging by the signature, it looks like an
energy-spectrum record." She looked up at Luna, her expression
complicated. "Most likely a record of the resonance you had with the
core."
Luna hesitated, then gave a strained shrug and smile. "Looks like I left
quite an impression."
Her tone was light, but a flicker of unease still flashed in her eyes.
Elia snapped the terminal shut, face grave. "Whatever they took, we have
to be ready. Their next target will likely be—" She didn't finish, but
Luna already understood. The next strike would come straight for her.
The girl lifted her head to the now-calm dome above, a tremor of
anticipation and unease stirring in her chest.
Far away, in a hidden Black Wing base, a surveillance screen still
showed Luna and Elia standing side by side in the core chamber. A
silver-haired girl with violet eyes lounged back in her chair, the curve
of her lips full of certainty. "Phase Two… begins now."
The screen flickered, then went dark.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two days later, under a lazy afternoon sun, the sea breeze carried faint
echoes of the underground battle up into the open sky. Luna stood on an
elevated walkway, looking out over the Nor Empire's vast coastal port.
Crane arms turned like long-necked beasts, and ship horns droned low,
reverberating in her chest until she breathed in the salty wind. New
scents braided through the air—brine, machine oil, the sweet tang of
coolant—like the heartbeat of a restless city.
She strolled along the glass railing, eyes skimming the bustle. Energy
shops displayed glittering modules like candy; old repair stalls hung
handwritten price boards; a boy practiced on a hoverboard, laughter
trailing behind him. Luna's steps grew lighter; she loved this
feeling—that anything could happen.
Turning into a side alley, she stopped. The sound here was wrong—short,
tense, strangled by pressure. Two youths were menacing a middle-aged man
clutching a sealed case. Its blue surface bore a white insignia:
Property of the Imperial Maintenance Bureau.
"Hand it over!" "No! This is bound for the port substation!"
Luna didn't step in immediately. She slowed her pace, as if listening
for the hidden rhythm beneath the noise. At the alley's end, a transport
truck waited with its rear doors half open. Two black work boots were
planted steady at the bumper, clearly waiting for the handoff.
She approached with composed steps, her voice soft but cutting clearly
into the quarrel. "Need a hand? Keep this up and you'll draw the patrol
drones."
One youth turned, scowling; seeing a girl only made him angrier. "Beat
it, brat!"
Luna tilted her head and blinked, feigning puzzlement. "Brat? So that's
how people say hello around here?"
The other snorted. "Drop the act. This has nothing to do with you."
Luna crouched, eyeing the case with genuine curiosity. "This lock model…
triple-layered, right? Hard to crack without the proper tools."
Despite his nerves, the man couldn't help nodding with a strained laugh.
"Yes, it's triple-layered."
"Hey! Don't talk to her!" the first youth snapped, lunging toward Luna.
She tapped her toes and slipped aside, nimble as stepping across river
stones. A ring of low-frequency magic pulsed from her waist—click—the
metal clasp on the boy's wrist snapped into an auto-lock and bit down on
his skin. He yelped, "You little—!"
The truck finally moved. The rear doors banged open and a burly man
stepped down, an energy blaster slung across his chest. A dark sigil at
his cuff seemed to swallow light. Luna recognized it instantly—not a
gang tattoo, but an organizational mark.
She shifted lightly, placing herself—almost without being
noticed—between the man and the case.
The burly man's eyes went cold at once, sweeping up and down as if
weighing a sudden, troublesome variable. "Kid, this is grown-ups'
business. Don't meddle. Leave."
Luna only pressed her lips into a sweet smile, with a hint of
provocation. "I wasn't planning to meddle… but this case looks awfully
special. Hard not to take an interest."
The man was silent for a moment, his gaze darkening. At last he gave a
slight nod, signaling his men to back off. The two youths retreated
grudgingly, throwing her one last vicious glare.
The air tightened in an instant. Luna narrowed her eyes and calculated
quickly: four steps between them. The blaster's red charge light burned
steady in his hands. No cover around; the only thing she could use was
the reflection off the glass railing overhead. That'll do, she told
herself.
The very next breath—his finger yanked the trigger.
A hot beam shrieked forth. Luna's magic burst at the same time,
unfurling into a supple, elastic field that shoved the beam off course.
It scraped the wall, blasting it apart and scattering a spray of golden
sparks.
"What—?" The burly man's gaze jolted; he reacted fast, adjusting his aim
at once.
But Luna was already moving. Borrowing the recoil from her own field,
she tapped the rim of a metal bin, spun light on her toes, and flashed
across like a blue-haired wildcat—slipping to the far side of the case,
nimble yet razor-sharp.
"You little—!" he roared, real killing intent flaring in his eyes for
the first time.
His shout wasn't finished before the blaster thundered again. Three red
beams ripped the air, striking like angry serpents.
Luna's eyes lit up; against her will, a thread of exhilaration rose. She
kicked off with both feet, sliding sideways; the hem of her skirt
skimmed the edge of the beams, sparks bursting at her hair's tips. "Not
slow at all," she murmured, amused.
Teeth clenched, the man whipped the muzzle, nearly sealing off every
retreat. "Brat, don't refuse a good thing when it's offered!" He poured
on the pressure, forcing his way closer, heavy steps thudding the
ground.
Luna didn't yield. She snapped up a hand; water-blue magic gathered in
her palm and thinned into a blade. When the next beam shot in, her body
flickered—one cutting arc of the blade—and the beam split apart, a rain
of sparks filling the narrow space.
"What…!" His pupils contracted.
Luna was already on his flank, a sly smile carrying a dangerous edge.
"If you only know how to lean on your weapon, you can't beat me."
She flicked her toes, spun, and slammed into his gun wrist with
spring-hard force. The muzzle jerked aside; the beam slashed diagonally
across the alley and hammered a distant steel wall, spewing a geyser of
fire.
They closed to near grappling distance in a heartbeat. The air reeked of
powder and scorch; the tension of the fight was driven to its limit.
They stood almost chest to chest. The man's wrist tingled numb, yet he
clamped down on the blaster, veins bulging at his temple. Luna balanced
lightly by the case, eyes glinting as if this were all a game.
After a heartbeat of stillness, the man snarled and drove his elbow in—
But before he could commit, a patrol drone overhead shrieked a piercing
alarm. A yellow grid dropped over the alley, locking the zone as a
High-Risk Disturbance.
The man's face sank; a shadow of wariness crossed his eyes. He knew if
he kept fighting, the system would call in the patrol squads.
"Hnh… lucky you." He forced down his anger, wrenched the blaster back,
and withdrew with the two youths in a messy retreat.
Luna stood by the case, magic still glowing faintly at her fingertips,
the corner of her mouth lifting in the slightest smile.
"The lucky one… isn't me."
The alley returned to quiet. The drone circled twice more, then drifted
away.
The middle-aged man hugged the case tight, still shaken. "Th-thank you…
I thought I was going to lose it today." He hurried to adjust his hold.
"I have to deliver these to the substation—the city's about to switch
grid loads. These modules can't be late!"
"Then don't be." Luna smiled, stooping to pick up his dropped delivery
slip and dusting it off before handing it back. "Next time, take the
main road. More people, fewer problems."
He thanked her over and over and hurried off.
Standing at the alley's mouth, Luna watched the crowd swallow the man
and his blue-tagged case. Only when they were gone did she lower her
gaze to her palm, where a trace of warmth from her magic still lingered.
In her mind, the dark sigil on the burly man's cuff flashed again. That
wasn't chance—it was organized, calculated action.
Someone had set their sights on official cargo—and they were moving
fast.