CHAPTER 6 : Shadows of the Past

  Zara awoke with a sharp intake of breath, her body shuddering as the remnants of the dream faded away. She sat up slowly, instinctively brushing dirt and dust off her clothes. The world around her was eerily quiet, and she could feel the weight of the past pressing down on her chest. But this wasn't the present—this was a time before it all went wrong. Before she was captured, before she was torn from the streets and sold into slavery.

  The slums stretched out before her, the air thick with the scent of decay. It was a place of ruin, where the ground was cracked and broken, and the sky always seemed to hang low, a heavy curtain of grey that never fully lifted. This was the edge of Hope Citadel, a place where the forgotten were cast aside, left to rot in the squalor of a society that didn’t care.

  Zara’s memories surged forward like a floodgate opened. She remembered the sounds—the constant hum of machinery, the rattling of broken pipes, and the cries of the hungry and the desperate. People lived in the shadows here, always moving, always watching, but never truly seen. The slums had no laws, no rules—only survival.

  As a child, Zara had been one of the countless faces, a nameless figure scrounging for scraps in the alleys. Her first memories weren’t of warmth or love, but of cold, hunger, and fear. Her parents were long gone, victims of the chaos that ruled the outer walls of the Citadel. Zara had learned early that survival didn’t come easy. She had to be quick, clever, and ruthless. Trusting anyone was a luxury that could cost you your life.

  It was here, in this forgotten corner of the world, that Zara had first felt the stirrings of power within herself. At first, it was nothing more than a strange, almost unnoticeable hum in the back of her mind, a force that seemed to respond to her emotions, her desires. When she was angry or desperate, things around her would move. A brick would shift, a loose nail would rise from the floor. She had no idea what it was, only that it made her feel more than the small, insignificant girl she had once been.

  Her psychic abilities were the first thing that had drawn attention to her—both the good and the bad kinds. At first, it had been an accidental discovery. She had been cornered by a group of thugs one night, their knives glinting in the dim light as they closed in on her. She had felt the fear rise in her chest, but then, something inside her snapped. Without thinking, her power surged, lifting a nearby rusted barrel and hurling it at her attackers. It was enough to knock them back, giving her just enough time to escape.

  That night had changed everything.

  It wasn’t long before the Black Veil took notice. They were everywhere—whispers of their name spread through the slums, a group of mercenaries and assassins that operated from the shadows. They were powerful, feared, and ruthless, and they had a way of finding talent, no matter how hidden it was. The Black Veil saw Zara’s potential—not just as a psychic, but as a weapon.

  Her capture had been swift, almost surgical. There was no fight, no resistance. The Black Veil had sent a team to “recruit” her, and within moments, she was shackled and taken. She didn’t fight back; she had no reason to. She was still just a girl, lost and abandoned, with nowhere to turn. Her mind had been filled with a haze of confusion, fear, and disbelief. How had she gone from a street urchin to a prized asset in the hands of killers?

  The journey from the slums to the Black Veil's hidden base had been a blur of emotions. The initial shock of being taken, followed by a cold emptiness that filled her as she realized there was no turning back. They had promised her power, purpose, and a place in their world, but all Zara wanted was a way out. But there was no way out. Not for her.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Her training was brutal. Days bled into nights as she was subjected to harsh lessons on combat, stealth, and manipulation. The Black Veil was not in the business of raising soldiers—they were in the business of creating monsters. Zara was transformed into one of them. Every day, they pushed her further, drove her harder, until her body and mind broke, only to be remade stronger, more efficient.

  It wasn’t just the physical training that changed her—it was the cybernetics. As her human body reached its limits, the Black Veil began replacing her limbs, her organs, one by one. Her arms were augmented with titanium alloys, her legs enhanced with motors that could carry her at breakneck speeds. Her spine was reinforced with a metal frame, and her eyes were fitted with implants that allowed her to see in the dark, read thermal signatures, and zoom in on distant targets with precision.

  But with every enhancement came a cost. Zara’s body began to reject the cybernetics. The pain was unbearable at times, a constant gnawing ache deep inside her. There were nights when her joints would lock, her vision would blur, and she could feel the strain of her mechanical parts grinding against the fragile tissue of her human form. The Black Veil had promised that she would be stronger, faster, more lethal—but Zara was beginning to feel more like a machine than a person.

  There were moments, fleeting but intense, when she would catch a glimpse of herself in a reflective surface. Her eyes, once full of life, had become cold and distant. Her skin, once soft, was now marred with the scars of countless surgeries. Her hands, though still nimble and capable of deadly precision, felt detached from her body as if they didn’t belong to her. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, she had stopped feeling human.

  Zara’s hatred for the Black Veil grew with each passing day. She had been molded into the perfect assassin, a tool with no will of her own. But even the most efficient tool could be discarded when it was no longer useful. And that was what the Black Veil had planned for her all along.

  The betrayal had been swift, calculated, and cruel. Zara had just completed what was supposed to be a simple mission—another target, another life to take. But when she returned, the ambush came. Men in Dark, one of the Black Veil’s most powerful psychics, had orchestrated it. He had always hated Zara’s strength, her independence, her ability to rise above the others. He had whispered poison into the ears of the Black Veil’s leaders, convincing them that Zara was no longer loyal, that her power had grown too great. The organization saw her as a threat, and they wanted her gone.

  Zara had fought back, of course. She had tried to escape, to use her abilities to break free, but it was too late. Men in Dark had trapped her with his psychic powers, locking her in place with a force she couldn’t overcome. Her cybernetic body, though strong, wasn’t enough to save her. It wasn’t enough to save her from the darkness closing in around her.

  The memory of that betrayal burned in her mind, a constant reminder of the world’s cruelty. She had given everything for the Black Veil—her body, her soul, and her life—and in return, they had discarded her like a broken tool.

  But now, as Zara stood in the ruins of her past, her human form restored, something inside her began to stir. This was not the future she had been condemned to. This was her second chance—an opportunity to take control of her own fate.

  Zara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the shard embedded in her spine. The golden glow of the artifact pulsed faintly beneath her skin, a reminder of the power she had gained through the journey of death and rebirth. She had not been restored to life simply to survive. She had been restored to fight.

  Her memories of the past were vivid and painful, but now they were fuel for the fire that burned inside her. She remembered the slums, the slavery, and the betrayal, but she also remembered the one thing that had always driven her: the need for justice. She had been used, manipulated, and thrown away, but now she had the power to make things right.

  Zara’s purpose was clear. She would not let the Black Veil continue to tear the world apart. She would not let the corrupt, the greedy, and the powerful stand unchallenged. She would rise from the ashes of her past and bring vengeance to those who had destroyed her and countless others. But she would also bring change—a world where people no longer had to live in fear, where the weak no longer had to be preyed upon by the powerful.

  She stood tall, feeling the strength of her human body coursing through her once again. The shard in her spine thrummed with energy, and she knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning.

  The world may have been broken, but Zara Voss was no longer the tool of others. She was the one in control now, and she would bring the change the world so desperately needed.

  ----

  Zara’s journey was just beginning. With his new powers and the memories of his fallen comrades, he was determined to bring justice to a world that had been torn apart by betrayal and corruption. He would use his abilities to protect those who could not protect them

  selves and to destroy those who stood in his way.