Chapter 13 | Jason Allen

  The cityscape I’ve just been summoned into feels cold. Something in the air, in the way the neon lights flicker too fast, in the way the streets seem just a little too empty. It’s familiar but wrong.

  The sky stretches endlessly above me, broken only by the electric hum of purple-tinted advertisements flashing across towering buildings. The glow of the city is intense, almost harsh, like it’s trying too hard to convince me this place is alive. I should feel at home here. This isn’t so different from the nightlife district in the Seventh Colony. But something about this place feels artificial. Manufactured. Like a dream reconstructed from someone else's memories, just slightly off.

  I exhale, pushing away the uneasy feeling.

  In the distance, a silhouette glows dark red against the blur of the city. My target. Holden had told me before I left, “The red outline you’ll see is your target. But remember, no mistakes, no hesitation, and no room for failure.”

  I step forward and glance over the edge of the rooftop I arrived on. Too many flights to jump down. A fall from this height, even with Grasp, wouldn’t be forgiving. My eyes scan the building’s edge until I spot a fire escape, rusted but stable enough. I take the metal steps quickly, my boots barely making a sound as I descend into the alley below.

  The moment I step onto the pavement, I can almost feel the pulse of the city. It’s not just sound, it’s movement, a rhythmic chaos of life surging through the streets beyond the narrow alleyway. It buzzes in my ears like static.

  I adjust the cuffs of my jacket, rolling my shoulders to loosen up. Time to find my target.

  I slip out of the alley and into the streets, instantly swallowed by a crowd of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people moving like a restless tide. Music blares from the bars lining the sidewalks, voices intertwining in an overwhelming mix of laughter, conversation, and the occasional drunken shout. The neon glow from the buildings above reflects in puddles on the cracked pavement, casting streaks of violet and blue across the crowd.

  I blend in, keeping my pace measured as I weave between people.

  Someone brushes against me, and I instinctively check my pockets. Still there. Just a regular passerby. But I know better than to let my guard down. With people like this, in crowds like this, you’re in the perfect place to disappear.

  The outline in the distance flickers, shifting between buildings as my target moves.

  I press forward, sliding between bodies, my breath steady despite the tension coiling in my gut. My hands move subtly at my sides, practicing the motions of my snaps as I close the distance. I need to be ready.

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  A street performer strums an old electric guitar near a corner, his melody lost beneath the noise of the city. I hear something else. A note. A tone that doesn’t belong. It lingers in my mind like an unfinished verse. I don’t have time to focus on it.

  The crowd parts slightly, and suddenly, there he is.

  He’s standing near a dimly lit club entrance, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his stance relaxed but deliberate. He isn’t just loitering. He’s waiting for something. Or someone.

  I don’t let myself hesitate.

  My fingers move in a practiced rhythm. I recite my movements just as Holden taught me: snap, shift, snap again. The air around us warps, tinged with deep violet as reality folds. The city around us fades quickly into purple, the ground pitch black.

  Just me and him now.

  Let’s go.

  He turns around, seemingly unaware of where he is. I summon my weapons and point a gun at him.

  My words come out easy. “I don’t want this to be hard, dude. Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

  He stutters, frightened. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

  I sigh. “You’re a criminal, you’ve committed crimes. I’m just your punishment.”

  “But,” he begins, “I haven’t committed a crime! Tell me what I’ve done that was illegal!”

  I point Backlash towards his face. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It just matters that you’re a danger to the people around you.”

  He shakes his head. “I have no idea what you mean! I’m just a scientist for the government!”

  Then it hits me. That’s why this place doesn’t feel familiar. Everything’s artificial, like it was research set up to appeal to us normal colonists. I’m in the Center. The people who made this place see us as scum who only want one thing: entertainment. They’re the scum, I tell myself, slowly getting angrier.

  “You’re a shifter. Ain’t much that’ll help your case with that evidence.”

  He clenches a hand into a fist. “Why must everyone be so racist towards us? We just want to be a part of a good community too. You humans get everything handed to you! Your fellowship, love, affection is readily available. I had to make myself look like one of you to have that happen.”

  I fire Backlash at his foot, causing him to fall to the ground in agony. “Not so smug now, are we?” I grab Overdose to finish the job when I’m swept off my feet by my target’s leg. I see him get up and run back into the crowd. As he gets further, I see the outline come back.

  I see his outline try to dodge and weave through people. I just keep running in a straight line. These people aren’t even on the same plane of existence as me. Their stares as I run through them make me chuckle a bit. The world that’s hidden from everyone’s eyes is pretty funny.

  His endurance seemingly never slows down. I wish something could just grab him for me. As I run, I start to imagine what it would look like. A huge hand, maybe? Maybe chains—chains made of light. I try to visualize my ideas when the figure stops moving. And I hear it again, that tone, it’s so out of place, yet so familiar.

  The figure is standing still. I keep running toward him. Maybe my idea of chains worked. I get close and see that his limbs are stuck, bound by the grasp of chains. White chains. The very same chains that I’ve been imagining.

  I stop, shocked. Is my imagination… doing something? I imagine the chains lifting him higher, and they do. My mind, I think, commands them. I picture a huge spear piercing his heart but nothing happens. Maybe these chains are the only thing I can control.

  I aim my gun at him and spit out some words before I fire. “Thanks for the bounty.”

  As his body falls limp, I let the chains go, which disappear instantly. I redo the snap to get out of the realm and watch as the body fades into the deep purple I was just in. Slowly, without an agent in there with it, the void begins consuming the body until it’s gone.

  I nod, proud of my work.

  Until I look up. The crowd I saw earlier… They’re staring at me.