Why did I decide to run this early in the morning? I'm dumb that's why, but still I put on that beat-up junior high tracksuit anyway and stepped out before the sun had a chance to rise. This kind of small win, that's what makes it count. I started earlier than yesterday, the streets empty except for closed-up shops and neon lights that looked half-dead. A baker wrestling flour bags stopped and stared, his face all flour and confusion, like what's this guy doing, chasing the sunrise? Whatever. Why am I so eager right now? Why am I so determined? maybe the leftover rush from pounding that dummy yesterday, or just anger because I'm still too weak to punch those gods. All I knew was I'd run until my chest burned, train until I couldn't lift my arms, and find some way to be strong enough to survive this whole mess I got myself into.
The wind was gentle at first, light on my face, then turned sharp, cutting right through my shirt. Jacket next time. Or something warmer. Maybe one of those stupid capes the real Riders wear, looking all important. My head drifted to the new job, that warehouse watch with its talk of late-night strangeness. "Shadowy visitors," Nate had said yesterday. What were they? Lost pieces of the gods' games, sneaking around? Bits of zodiac power leaking out? And why that old factory, sitting on the edge of town like it was hiding something? Could I deal with whatever showed up? The pepper spray in my pocket felt useless, like a joke. Phobos and Deimos could handle real trouble, turn fear into something sharp. But carrying swords on a night shift? I'd stick out like a sore thumb. Unless Ophy could make them smaller, easier to hide. Yeah, right. But, hey there is no harm in asking.
About twenty minutes in, give or take of my feet hitting pavement, breaths coming short, the hurt and the school gates finally show up. I slipped through the early crowd, sweaty and out of place, ignoring the looks from the kids already there. The girls up front glanced over when I dropped into my seat, probably wondering if I'd rolled out of bed wrong. Gym clothes tomorrow. Change in the bathroom, keep it normal. The teacher went on about math stuff, equations that might as well have been spells. I scribbled some notes, but my pen ended up drawing loops like snakes in the corners. If x is how far Sagittarius shoots next, and y is Cancer closing in, then z is me, barely passing. Not helpful. Tests were easy enough, copy from someone, get a quiet tip, make it through. Graduating? No problem. Surviving what came after? That was the hard part.
The break bell rang, and I skipped the cafeteria. No money for food today; I'd make Donnie's last check last as long as it could. The swings out back were better anyway, under that big oak that dropped acorns like it was mad. I sat down, the chains creaking under me, and rocked a little, trying to feel like I was moving forward. Broke, by myself, just scraping by. That was the old me, before the Riders, before everything blew up. Now it felt like practice for something worse. Swing a bit higher. Hit a little harder. Keep going. The leaves above rustled, like they were laughing.
"Hey."
"Damn!" My heart jumped hard, almost throwing me off the swing. I turned quick, half-ready for Lily's stare or Sagittarius smirking down an arrow. But it was just Lena, stepping out from the tree shadow like she'd been there the whole time.
"Didn't expect you without Mira," I said, getting my breathing back under control. She looked too calm, hair in a neat ponytail, uniform perfect, like nothing ever threw her.
"She's stuck redoing algebra. Says being around screws her luck." Lena sat on the swing next to me and pushed off easily. The chains made a clinking sound together, off-rhythm but kind of matching. "I figured I'd stay out here. There's too much noise in the cafeteria."
I nodded, more out of habit. "Smart move. Someone like you doesn't need chaos."
She gave a small smile, quick and gone. "Mira's got the smarts too. Just forget to use them." Her swing went higher, then she said, "You hear about the weird stuff? Out by the old factories?"
I blinked, my stomach tightening. Factories, right where the warehouse was, on the edge of everything. "Weird how? Like power flickers? Kids tagging walls?"
She swung up again, her voice steady and cutting, like she was figuring it out as she talked. "Not kids. Stranger. People on the outskirts, shop owners, night workers, talking about shadows that don't line up with the lights. Whispers that carry too far, like they're coming from empty air. A guy delivering last week said he saw shapes slide right through a fence, eyes catching light wrong. The police called it "tiredness." She paused, looking right at me.
"Sounds like stories people tell to pass time. You believe it?"
She let out a short laugh, she can laugh? "Stories don't burn marks into metal. Or make dogs bark at nothing." She dragged her feet to slow down, gravel crunching. "Mira says ghosts, all dramatic. But I think it's something getting loose. Doesn't want to be caught." Her eyes stayed on me. "You notice stuff like that? Things that get too close?"
I swallowed, the tree's shadow stretching over us like it was reaching. Stuff like that? Yeah, the temple break-in, the fight that got erased, now this. If those visitors were zodiac leftovers, or scouts from the real Riders... "Sometimes. It happens a lot. But chasing them down? That's asking for problems."
"Or finding out what's real." Lena jumped off while still moving, landing smooth. "Keep an eye on the edges, Rei. Things like that don't come alone." Before I could figure if that was a heads-up or something else, Mira's voice cut through the yard: "Lena!"
Lena rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile. She grabbed Mira's arm as she came running, pulling her away before the energy hit. Mira waved over her shoulder, hair bouncing; I waved back half-hearted. Lena didn't turn around. Good talk, once again I hit it out of the park.
The rest of school felt weird, Lena's words stuck in my head over and over again. Weird stuff. Leftover mess from the wipe. When the bell finally rang, I ran. My legs hurt from the morning run, but I kept going until I reached home, ate whatever was left, and ran again. Couldn't stop. Deimos would tear into me otherwise, and after that "Serpent heart" talk yesterday, he'll get cranky if I'm late.
The boarding house was the same, door that stuck, floors that creaked, bed that sagged, but the roof was where I needed to be, Ophy's spot with its twisted stars. He was leaning against the chimney like he owned it, the dummy jerking in the corner on those weird strings of nothing. Phobos and Deimos sat sheathed on a crate, quiet but waiting, like they knew.
"Take your time," Deimos muttered as soon as I climbed up, his voice low and annoyed through the sheath.
"Some of us eat and sleep," I said back, taking a long drink from my bottle. "Not whatever you two live on."
Ophy laughed, soft and knowing, his eyes catching the light wrong. "He's got you there. Fill up your body, Rei. But enough. Sagittarius likes to keep his distance; Cancer tho, she'll fight you head on. Now get ready."
He nodded at the swords. I pulled them out, the handles warm in my hands like they remembered me, feeling lighter each time, like part of me. But before Phobos could start, I said, "Ophy, quick thing. Can you make these smaller? Like, something I can hide? Not so obvious."
The air got heavy, the swords going still. Deimos's sheath shifted a little. "Smaller? What, for your pocket? We're not toys, boy."
Phobos's voice came cooler, like ice under silk. "Why? Another one of your human tricks?"
I paused, the dummy's strings humming like they were mocking. No need to mention the job yet, Ophy would smell the dodge and ask too many questions. "It just makes sense. Can't walk around with these without questions. People stare."
Ophy tilted his head, smiled slowly like a snake waking up. "Hiding. That's a pretty good idea." He snapped his fingers, simple as calling for a drink, and the air rippled. The swords shook, shrinking down with a small sound, turning into pendants, coiled shapes on cords, looking like cheap necklace stuff. But I could feel them, heavy inside, ready if I said the word.
"What do you think?" Ophy asked. "I fit them with a sizer, so you can shrink and enlarge them later. But they hate it, so beware."
Deimos's voice came tiny from the pendant: "Happy? I hate being small. Do that again, and I'll cut your leg next time."
Phobos let out a breath like steam. "Ignore him. Now Rei focus, remember dominant feet in the front.
"Enough talk guys, Rei, you can start now." Ophy said, stepping aside.
I moved, the pendants turning to swords in the middle of the swing, Deimos cutting first, fast and mean. But it pulled me off, turning the slash into a flat hit. The dummy's head snapped back with a thud. "No," Phobos said quickly. "Like a snake, not a hammer. Think, don't just swing."
Again, Phobos now, faking low and spinning into a hit from behind, building like a twist. Deimos laughed in my head: "Not here to win, pretty. Just stay alive."
The time went fast, sweat, echoes of hits, dodging hits that weren't there, my body bending in ways that felt wrong but worked. No big moves, just quick and dirty: Fake one way, strike another; hold back, then let go. They pushed hard, Phobos guiding calm but firm, Deimos yelling fire. "That anger, yes! The ones who cut you loose? The one chasing? Turn it!" I pushed in the burn from Donnie's face, the cold from Lily in the prayer room, the empty spot where Andi used to be. Feelings into edges, weak parts into weapons.
My breath came rough, arms shaking, but I moved better, smoother, the dummy taking hits that landed right. When I stopped, knees hitting the roof, the swords shrank back with quiet sounds, I felt it hit, tired, but good tired.
"Not terrible," Deimos said, almost nice. "Slow, messy like a kid with a stick, but that fire? That's us."
Phobos agreed, soft. "Nothing flashy, just what to survives. Good start."
Ophy came over, holding out the water like peace. "You bend, Rei. That's how you win. Not with noise." His eyes went to the pendants, something old in them, maybe approval. "Keep them close. They'll tell you when trouble's near."
I drank, the water cold down my throat, looking at the small shapes on the cord. So much left to learn. More to risk. But inside, that spark felt stronger. Not some dream. Just me, holding on.
Dusk was settling, dark bleeding into the sky, when I headed to the warehouse, the badge on my collar felt heavy. The building sat there big and gray, the fence around it leaning like it was tired. Lights buzzed up top, making yellow spots where bugs flew into them. Nate was at the side door, hair messy under the light, smile stretched too far. "Rei! Good timing. Chili's warm inside, add cheese if you want. The radio's ready, the light's good. Quick: Walk the outside, every half hour. Watch everything, talk only if it's me on the radio."
I nodded, slipping the spray into my pocket. I didn't need it now, but it fit the part. "Just the strange stuff?"
He laughed, too loud. "Strange is why you're here. Things play games in the dark. Watch, report, stay where it's lit." He patted my shoulder, held on a second too long, then went back inside. The door shut. Just me.
It felt off right away. The air was thick with rust and something electric, like a storm waiting. Wind moved the fence, making it rattle, clink, clank, like a warning. Shadows didn't fall right, bunching up in corners. I started the walk slowly, boots on gravel, light cutting the dark. Wall to the docks, around the empty lot, back again. Simple. Normal. But it wasn't. Lena's words stuck: Shadows wrong, whispers too loud. This was the edge, zodiac stuff spilling over.
Halfway along one side, the radio crackled, noise, then nothing. I turned it down, heart picking up. The empty lot stretched out, weeds grabbing at my shoes, lights flickering like they might quit. Old bulbs, I told myself. But the pendants warmed on my chest, Phobos steady, Deimos growling low.
Then it changed. Not steps, not wind. My light caught something, a twist in the dark, past the fence. Like air moving wrong, but cold. Shapes came from the trees, three of them, long and bent. Too tall, arms folding odd. They didn't walk; they slid, dark trailing behind like smoke. Eyes caught the light, yellow, narrow, wrong. Whispers came with them, broken: "...wrong one... piece... twist back…"
I stopped breathing. Riders? Servants? The pendants got hot, Deimos in my head: Visitors. Smells like old stars." One stopped, head turning like it was listening, and the air got heavy, electric sharp. The whispers got clearer: "...stealer of skin... give back the tooth…"
Spray in one hand, cord in the other, the word on my lips. They came closer, the fence bending like something pushed it, metal groaning.
The radio screamed static, Nate?, but the shapes moved fast, eyes on me, voices loud now "Ophiuchus wants... but we take you first…"
The one in front broke through the fence, dark hands reaching, and everything went to edges and nothing.