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Time: Immediately after the assassination of Hanley Moors; Location: City of Neoxsoma, outside the Manse
Trine weaved through the shadowed alleyways, getting further away from the Manse. The narrow crevices of Neoxsoma were a prison to all but the most familiar with them, but Trine had run through those cracks for years. Slowly, the alarms of NX Security swarming the blood-stained tower faded away into the starless night.
There was a flash of regret as the triangle-crested wolf recalled leaving behind their companions. They'd felt such an urge to leave, to be anywhere else, that Stelle and Cube didn't even register to them. But those two would never let themselves be captured anyway; Stelle would tear barehanded through anyone in her way, and Cube would make sure to stay three steps ahead no matter how many arms he still had.
No, when the police made their way to the penthouse, and passed through the grand doors, they'd find only the fruits of a well-deserved vengeance. The corpses of Moors' guards and hired guns, lifeless amalgams of fur, flesh, feather, and ferrous streaming dried blood onto the spotless floors. And at their head, a lifeless torso with a hole through its chest, the miserable bastard responsible for everything. The one with the bloodiest hands of all.
Hanley Moors had been a symbol of power and opulence in Neoxsoma since long before Trine and Cube made their way to the city together. In a society where animated metal and mingled flesh was a status symbol, Moors created a new echelon of prestige, forsaking flesh entirely for a powerful, perfect new body and a face of constructed light hovering above. As if to look down upon his acquaintances and remind them with every glance that his power alone was enough to transcend the physical entirely.
Not that it had mattered. For such a grand display, to perish by an old and ordinary revolver; an undignified death, exposing the hollowness that he'd hidden all along.
Still, Trine wished that they hadn't dropped Gamble's gun when they'd left. They felt barren without it, even if they could only tuck it into their pocket. The weight in their hand, the solidity of the cool metal against their palm, would have been a welcome feeling right about now.
But anything would, really.
After what felt like a night's worth of running between buildings, Trine slowed as the narrow gap emptied out into the street. The mustiness of the alleyways cut out as the brilliant neon streetlights made Trine flinch.
The buildings lining the street were dark, save for the stray light shining out from a window. It was a waste of neon to provide the back roads with the same extravagance as the city’s major veins. For now, however, the lack of light and life made an ideal escape route.
Trine forced themself to slow down now that they were out in the open. They slid their hands casually into their pockets and strode down the sidewalk in long steps, moving in the direction of...
The hideout. Trine stopped and grit their teeth as the image flooded back in. Blood and agony, tangible smells on the air. Cube – dear little brother – bleeding and torn on the floor. Beloved friends strewn lifeless across the room.
And Gamble...
Gamble...
Trine sank to the ground, their whole body curling painfully inward. Their claws curled around thick handfuls of their jacket. They should have been there, with everyone else. Laying down their life to protect their own would have been so simple.
But they'd been gone – too busy perusing the back alleys for people seeking Gamble's newfound arson bounty. They'd been the mouth and ears, and Stelle the sword carving a message into any would-be hunters.
It hadn't done a flicker of good. Not when Moors and his militia stormed into their den and slaughtered everyone where they sat. Even with the prize of Moors' gold back in their hands, there was too much that they could never take back.
Even with Moors' cold, metallic heart snuffed out, everyone and everything that Trine, Stelle, and Cube had loved died with it. Stelle's family would never accept their daughter back knowing the truth of her gang activities. Cube's missing arm and eye would make his mechanic’s training so much harder, if he wasn't outright dismissed for it.
And Trine...Trine felt nothing. Nothing but nothing where their heart and friends and family and hopes for the future once rested. It had all been blown away.
It was a long time before Trine could rise back to their feet and continue onward into the black night.
Time: Two months after the assassination of Hanley Moors; Location: City of Neoxsoma, Residential Structure Vega
Stelle adjusted her scarf and the wide brim of her hat as she descended yet another flight of stairs. There were even fewer residents in this part of the structure than the preceding ones, but it would only take one intruder to throw herself and Cube back into the sights of a firing squad. She continued along the cramped gray hallways through the middle of the structure, curving through intersections at a seeming whim.
The part of Stelle's mind that once accused her of paranoia no longer made such claims. Moors' blood hadn't even dried before every screen in the city lit up with news of that night’s gold-fueled vendetta. Stelle, Cube, and Trine alike had all been thrown up into the neon along with their lost friend Gamble.
(She'd only been an arsonist and a thief, but Stelle and the others were terrorists and murderers atop that.)
Trine had left on their own after firing the bullet that robbed Moors of his life and his gold, leaving the spoils to Stelle and Cube. Once it had become evident in the next few days that seeking them out wasn't an option – not with security and every hunter in city limits after their newfound bounty – the two remaining wolves chose to lie low for a while. Renting a half-decent apartment from one of the mass-produced structures in the residential district had cost mere shavings of a gold bar, once they'd run that money through the proper channels with what influence Stelle still carried.
As Stelle moved outward toward the structure's shell, she finally stopped in front of one thin, metal door. Once she knew that the hallway was empty, she quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside.
The lights in the single-room apartment were already on, and its other tenant turned his head as Stelle entered.
“Hey,” said Cube – so named for the glowing green square on his forehead. He sat on his mattress with his back against the wall, his long legs stretching out onto the coarse beige carpet. “I thought you'd be home later. Is everything okay?”
Only once Stelle had shut the door and sunken onto her own mattress opposite Cube's did she remove her hat and scarf and allow her fur to breathe. “One of my deliveries was canceled. He said he'd been replaced at the algae refinery and couldn't afford a gift for his partner anymore.” She sighed, sliding her delivery tote off her back. “Pity, I would have earned a bonus for keeping that necklace safe.”
She dropped a bag from the local deli onto her mattress – dinner for the two of them tonight.
Cube's prosthetic whirred as the four fingers spun slowly around his rounded 'palm'. “Sounds like we both had a rough day,” he said wearily. “I got stiffed on a repair job for one of the bars downtown. They said the jukebox was too jerky when it switched songs.” He picked at the half-assembled cassette player on his lap. “I spent two hours on it, too.”
That was the sad reality of holding a job in Neoxsoma; if the person paying you was getting screwed over too, then you could call yourself lucky, because at least you weren't alone. But mostly you got pushed down and left behind. It was rough for anyone, but a freelancer like Cube only had his reputation, and reputations were so much easier to break than to keep standing.
Suddenly, Cube looked up from his lap. “Hey, Stelle?” He started slowly, rubbing the claws on his right hand together as he thought. “We're not, uh, using the money we took from Moors for anything right now, right? If we're running a little low on cash—”
“Cube, no,” Stelle cut him off firmly. “We can't raise any suspicions by spending money we shouldn't have. We'll find another way to get by this week.”
“Who's even gonna know?” Cube shot back. “Nobody dangerous pays attention to anyone from here. We're just vermin in their gutters.”
He waved his hands at the dull metal walls of their apartment. “And can you blame them, if everyone here lives like this? It's nothing – and we can still barely afford it! They're not going to notice if we spend a little more than usual!”
Stelle stared him down. She had wondered about this, whether their current situation was tenable. Cube wasn't a fool; even without the exact numbers, he had to know that their shared income was barely keeping up with the costs. A couple weeks of low pay could easily do them in at this rate, and Moors had given them at least several million dollars in gold even with all of the fees paid under the table. They could afford their apartment for well past a lifetime, or a much better, safer home with plenty to spare.
But Stelle had borne witness to the allure of riches for her entire life, and what it could drive decent people to. She'd left that behind, left them behind. She didn't think she could do it again.
“We can't risk it. Not until we're certain that everyone has stopped searching for us,” she said, firmly keeping her eyes on Cube. “I'll take on more deliveries if we need them, and you can keep doing your repair jobs.”
There was a tense moment of silence, and then Cube slapped his mattress and shot to his feet, sending the cassette player clattering to the floor.
“For what? To stay cooped up in this goddamn metal box?!” Cube shouted, pulling his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I hate it here, Stelle! I want out ! I'm sick of acting like we're doing something when we're just hiding! We need to find Tr—”
“ Trine wouldn't want you getting killed looking for them, Cube,” Stelle cut him off. “They would want us to be safe first. They can take care of themselves just fine until then.”
She hoped.
“Are you listening to yourself?” Cube growled. “They just left us – they didn't even say goodbye! Does that sound just fine to you? We need to find them!”
“Not yet, Cube.”
“Then when?! ”
“When you can go outside without feeling once like anyone could be watching you,” Stelle finally snapped back, glaring up at Cube with the most forceful look she could manage.
It must have been impressive, as Cube flinched back, mouth open but no sound leaving it. Eventually, he gave up and sank back onto his mattress, furiously returning to tampering.
Stelle welcomed the feeling of regret that replaced her obstinate anger. It wasn't fair to knock Cube down when he'd already been through so much, when his older sibling was still gone without a single sign of life. He was still far too young to have deserved any of it. At least Stelle could have pointed to her high-class parentage and called it an exercise in humility.
Things had been very different just a few months ago. The kid had been working through his apprenticeship with a local mechanic, and he'd been doing good work. Most days he came back to the den with a tired smile and stories about all the people he'd met and fixed things for that day, surrounded by friends and with Trine the proud big sibling holding him to their side.
Cube lived off of spreading that joy more than any money he could have brought in. He made what could have been a difficult life so much better.
Then Moors ripped his eye and his arm from him, and no prosthetics could make up for how far Cube had been set back. Stelle felt bad most days for the lackluster robot arms she'd been able to obtain for him; the first one had been a hefty crab claw, good for throwing thugs around but not so much for refined work, while his current one was a slender but sturdy limb leading to a rounded end with four jointed fingers extending from the ‘wrist’.
It was certainly more dexterous, especially as Cube mastered moving his fingers along the circumference of his new hand, but even the most lifelike robotic limbs required time to figure out. Coupled with the wolf's ruined left eye – which he'd furiously refused to replace with another prosthetic – it was clear even before Cube went on the run that his education had met a cruel end.
The rest of the evening passed quietly. The two of them sat on the floor together and ate dinner, and then Cube tucked all of his tools away and crawled onto his mattress with a quiet “good night”. Stelle watched him until she was certain that he'd drifted off, and then she laid down upon her own bedding.
Her body sank into the mattress, just barely kept off the hard floor underneath, and Stelle turned to face the wall away from Cube – and away from the window that was still pouring the beginnings of twilight into their apartment. Most rooms in this structure didn't have windows at all, and Cube had begged to live somewhere with natural lighting. It had been one of Stelle's few concessions.
Stelle closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. She had been too hard on him, she could accept that now. The past two months had been so very hard for both of them, but at least Stelle had no family to miss, and no need to beg anyone for a little bit of sunlight.
Tomorrow, they could start looking for someplace else to live. They would still need to be smart about it, but there had to be somewhere in this city that let them hide with a little more comfort.
And Trine...Stelle still didn't know what they would do about Trine. She could only hope that they'd found sanctuary, if not for herself than certainly for the little brother that they'd left behind.
Amidst all of the plans, thoughts of comfort, and worries for tomorrow, somehow Stelle found the strength to let go and fall into slumber.
As the sun slid below the horizon and the night marched into the quiet hours of morning, neither wolf was awake to see a dark shape hanging from the building outside of their window, and neither of them heard the rectangle of glass being slowly, quietly cut open.
By the time the cool air from outside flowed into the room and shocked the two awake, the figure would be gone, leaving only a package of their own in their place and a brief message scrawled in red ink on a piece of paper.
Won't you help us break this wretched city?
P.S. Security is on their way, you'll want to hurry out of there.
Time: Meanwhile; Location: City of Neoxsoma, outside Tsunokeji Tower
Wherever the privileged went, they had both the blessing and the curse to cast shadows. It wasn't possible to hold so much light in their hands without a looming darkness stretching back behind them. And there was always going to be somebody, even one person, who would be lost in that darkness, unseen and uncared for.
Nowhere did that ring true more than a city like Neoxsoma. In daytime, the buildings were tall enough to cast their own shadows, drowning everyone below in a shaded sea. In nighttime, their penthouse lights cast synthetic auroras over the skyline, too high to ever be reached; everyone below could only make do with the flickering neon and harsh digital screens supplied as placation.
Of course, people spoke of climbing up toward the lights at the peaks of metal, glass, and stone, and making a home among them. Many watched the skyline with spiteful eyes, dreaming of the day that somebody would be cast down from on high and perish upon the pavement. But most didn't dare dream, only averting their eyes from the lights and seeking contentment in the shadows far below.
None of them had any idea of how simple climbing a mountain could really be.
Trine slid their keycard from their pocket and waved it in front of the card reader. The reader beeped and flashed green, and Trine pushed through the door into the lobby of Tsunokeji Tower. In the dead of night, the high rise was silent and empty, lit only by the soft glow of the light fixtures on the walls – a glow seemingly absorbed by the deep chestnut-stained walls and dark red carpeting.
On the opposite wall from the residential elevators was the penthouse elevator – no different from the others save for the swirling golden trim – and Trine slid their key into the reader and entered the elevator code. The doors swung open almost immediately, as though the elevator had been waiting for them.
They stepped inside and pressed the up button, adjusting their hoodie as the elevator closed. Trine was pretty sure the Horans had installed cameras in the elevator, and they needed to keep the glowing purple triangle on their forehead away from electronic eyes.
Trine fixed their grip on the grocery bags in their hand as the elevator finally slowed down and stopped. The doors opened obediently into the penthouse living room, a vast area with walls painted soft white, and an enormous glass wall on the opposite side that opened into a large personal courtyard. The couches and chairs were decadent, each one a piece of heaven worth thousands.
The Horans were new money, having risen to wealth through an urban development empire that had built the last few decades of this city. They'd wasted no time snapping up part of the skyline for themselves, so much wasted space that they were far too busy to ever use.
The thought made Trine's hackles raise and lips curl in disgust.
They carried their bags into the kitchen area nearby (near spotless from disuse and cleaning) and quietly flipped on the light switch before setting the bags onto the counter – gently, to avoid jostling the fifty-cent pistol buried underneath everything that Trine had picked up from the market. There was also a change of clothes tucked in there, but that wasn't as much of a hazard.
“What were you doing?”
Trine stiffened and turned all the way around. A small, skinny oryx stood in the space between the kitchen and the living room, dressed in pajamas made of the softest, likely most expensive silk that one could find in this city. He rubbed his tired eyes, regulated breaths audible in the silence.
Trine's initial shock faded into a warm and gentle smile. “Hey, Luka. Did I scare you?” They asked softly, kneeling down to meet the young boy at eye level. “Sorry about that. We haven't picked up groceries in so long that I thought I'd run out and get something.”
“But it's two in the morning,” the oryx whined, stifling a yawn. He winced as his artificial lungs pumped in another breath, cutting it off with a choking sound from his throat. Trine reached out to him, but Luka held out his hands to stop them. “I was waiting for you. I thought you left me...” He said, curling into himself.
Trine exhaled and reached out again, this time to wrap their arms around their charge and hold them close. “I'm so sorry, little guy. I was just swinging by the store real quick. I thought we could have something special for breakfast tomorrow.” They rested their cheek against the side of Luka's head, and held the child's head and back in one hand each, careful to avoid his straight, pointed horns.
Luka moaned quietly in Trine's grasp but didn't pull away. “Everyone leaves eventually, you know. I figured you'd gotten tired of me too,” he said, burying his face into the crook of Trine's neck.
“Hey, that's not true,” Trine murmured. They stroked Luka's back with their fingertips, just the way he liked it. “I'm not going anywhere, I swear. If you hadn't hired me, I'd be homeless right now, you know? You saved me, Luka. So I'm gonna stay right here and look out for you, like I promised. However long you need me.”
The penthouse was silent, save for the sound of Luka's artificial lungs rising and falling in his chest. Evidently he'd been born with a respiratory defect, and at some point his parents decided it would be simpler to just tear his lungs out and replace them – and everything else below his larynx. Trine couldn't begin to explain how everything connected inside his chest, but it kept him alive.
It didn't keep the boy's parents around, however. They'd enrolled him in online education, bought him everything he needed to succeed, and then left him behind like a pet. Their only remaining consolation was hiring a caretaker, and they still left most of it to Luka himself.
The young boy pushed his face into the crook of Trine's neck. “I could need you for a long time, Trine,” he whispered. Such sorrow in his voice, but he never shed a tear. Maybe he never found a point. He gripped the front of Trine's shirt in two small bundles of cloth.
“Then I'll stay for a long time,” Trine whispered back. Until they found Cube and Stelle and figured out what to do next. Until Luka's wretched excuses for parents returned home, and...
They smothered the burning feeling that oozed into their chest. Tonight had gone on long enough.
Finally, Trine pulled away and put a smile on their face for Luka. “Now let's get you back to bed. You’ll have to be up early for your online class.”
Luka's lips pursed, like there was something he wanted to say. Trine waited patiently until the oryx spoke. “Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?”
Trine brushed the top of Luka's head with a feather's touch. “Of course, little buddy. Always,” they said, taking his hand as they rose back up. Once Luka fell asleep – however long that took – they still had to put away all of their groceries.
By morning, the story would likely be everywhere, how real estate tycoon and esteemed philanthropist Ingrid Meir had been shot dead in her apartment following a bomb scare and evacuation, killed with a pistol so scratched up inside that any markings on the bullet would be useless. Her fellow point-one-percenters would trade sorrowful stories of her fierce, generous spirit, of the woman who had given so much to help the downtrodden of the city.
Trine would know better. And although the void in their chest wouldn't be filled by the death of a single socialite, they would remember that Neoxsoma ran deep with rot. And there was always another infestation to cleanse.
And one day, Trine didn't know when, the void left behind by Gamble and the rest of their family would be full again. It would be.
So few people understood how simple climbing a mountain truly was. Once you dedicated your entire being to a purpose, once you forsook the notion that there were actions you couldn't take in that pursuit, it left so very little that you couldn't do.