Chapter Text
There are no stars.
There used to be, of course. Pinpricks of light in a sky that was so dark it was almost velvet, painted with spirals and swirls of blue and purple and pink. There used to be constellations, named after stories from thousands of years ago, where somebody from now and somebody from then could look up and see the same thing and say ‘look, isn’t that beautiful?’
But there is no sky anymore. And if there is no sky, there is nowhere for the stars to hang, accompanied by the moon, watching the world turn. The sky is only a myth nowadays, something in books and on murals, on blazing screens and flickering holograms.
When Cora was young, she used to look out of the skyscraper window, peering through the screen of bright lights and smoke. The concrete sky had lights embedded in it, a shitty approximation of something lost long ago. They were no stars, but she watched them all the same, tracing invisible patterns between each one, connecting them to the lights of the city below.
Cora did not have time to watch the city anymore, of course. Not when her days were filled with monotonous tasks and neon lights. Not stars. Never stars.
The curtains to her small apartment are drawn closed, beside an abandoned can of Mountain Dew and empty bottle of cheap green hair dye. She is shrouded in darkness as she moves, slinging a small bag over her shoulder and tearing out of the door, one shoe still half-on as she hops into the old transport pod, which groans and shudders as she selects her destination. She’s lucky that she even has one, she knows- not everybody in Helio City can afford the quick and easy technology they have now. It’s old, though, and the mechanical whirring amplifies the pounding headache building behind her forehead.
The transport pod stutters, the whirring stopping for a moment, and she groans. She can’t afford to be late- not again. Not today. Cora glances around, checking if any of her elderly neighbours have decided to take a nice stroll in the hallways at five in the morning. She is alone.
She mutters a few familiar words, and green electricity sparks between her fingertips, and she presses her hand to the control panel, removing it once the pod starts, zipping down past the rest of the building and into the city, into one of the hundreds of plastic tubes criss-crossing the city like a spider’s web.
It’s a nice view, Cora thinks, as colourful lights blur past her, buildings only smudges as the pod zooms around. She peers through the stained window the pod provides- a small one, yes, but a window nonetheless.
When the pod takes a sharp turn downwards, she backs away from the window, slumping down as it spirals through graffiti-covered tubes. It’s dark, down here. Dirty, full of muck and grime. Cora had visited the slums once, when she was younger, and the glares the residents had sent her were enough to give her nightmares for days.
It spirals up again, rising out of the dirt, and she stands up again as the pod slows, shuddering as it reaches its final destination, the pod almost sighing as the doors open.
Cora steps out, and the pod zips down, returning back to her old apartment. She wishes she could go with it.
The clean room ahead of her was bright, the white walls and white floor reflecting the lights in the ceiling. Sterile, only a robot sat there, behind some sort of desk. The massive screen hung up behind it displayed only one image- a poster. A graphic of something that vaguely resembled a human was placed in the middle, a streak of pink and blue arcing between their two hands, their teeth far too sharp and their pupils narrowed to a slit- something rather impossible. ‘KEEP YOUR HOME SAFE,’ it says, bold text emblazoned at the top. ‘REPORT ANY SUSPECTED WORD-WEAVERS TODAY!’
Cora hid her hand behind her back.
The robot looked up, unfeeling eyes hidden by mirrorshades reflecting Cora’s own face back at her. “Electricheart, Cora,” it intoned, a screen popping up in front of it as it scanned her face. “Identified. Welcome back. The Sun Corporation thanks you for your work.”
The Sun Corporation can go jump off a skyscraper, she thinks, but gives the robot a smile and a nod, walking into the building. The doors close behind her, the corridor long and gleaming white, a perfect edifice. Screens decorate the walls, alternating between advertisements and posters similar to the ones from before. ‘Protect your children,’ one reads. ‘If you suspect somebody is a word-weaver, call the Agency immediately!’
Cora spots a security camera up in the corner, a tiny thing. Its lights are dim- strange, but not completely out of the ordinary.
Normally, she thinks, slightly disgruntled, there would be a travelator. Or some sort of fancy technology. But, no, the Sun Corporation couldn’t afford to invest in one of their own offices. One of the hundreds that dotted Helio City.
But they could afford insanely long corridors. Cora continued walking, blue and red sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. The blazing light of the signs burned into her eyes, making her squint, the headache from before now in full swing.
It was peaceful. Quiet. The only sound was the squeaking of her shoes on the floor and the faint sounds from outside the building, the whirring of transport pods travelling to their destinations, of drones delivering packages across the city. The gentle humming of the screens bore into her head, amplifying her headache- now in full swing.
A boom rocked the building, cutting through the silence like a firecracker, the ground trembling beneath her. A ringing erupted in her ears, and she stumbled backwards as the ground titled, the screens flickering into buzzing static. Cora shrieked as she stumbled back, reaching out one hand to try and steady herself, grasping fruitlessly at the smooth white walls.
Rubble rained down from above, and she dove forwards, pulled from her shocked stupor, stumbling as the ground shook, another blast erupting from somewhere else, sounding like what Cora thought thunder sounded like. The corridor erupted into flames as another explosion rocked the area behind her, consuming the screens like a monster hungry for food.
She rose in one swift movement, running… somewhere. She wasn’t sure where to go- where she could go. But some long-buried instinct told her to run, so that was what she did, the ringing in her ears accompanied by the sound of her footsteps pounding on the linoleum floor.
Cora skidded to a stop as the end of the corridor came into view- engulfed in flames. My office, she thought, disparagingly. Her favourite pair of headphones had been in there, tucked into the desk drawer.
The building shook once more, and at a loud crashing sound, she looked up, wide-eyed. Cracks spread across the ceiling like a spider’s web, fracturing under some sort of force, before finally splitting open.
Smoke and dust flew into her face, and Cora coughed, waving it away with one hand, the heat from the fires still lapping at her heels. Ahead of her, the dissipating fumes revealing a crouching figure, metal wings stretching up behind them like a promise of death.
She stared, frozen by sheer shock as the figure rose up, folding their wings, fire wreathing their hands. They had a grey hoodie stained by smoke and charred by flames, and did she mention their fists were on fire?
Green-gold eyes met hers, and the figure grinned, a wild, crazed thing.
“Hello!” They called, Cora continuing to stare at them. “Sorry about the building!”
“…what the fuck.” She said, faintly. “What the fuck.” She muttered a few words and held out one hand as it lit up with green electricity, pointing it at the figure.
“I’m not afraid to use this,” she warned. The figure’s eyes lit up, and they shook their hands, extinguishing the flames.
“Oh!” They said gleefully. “You’re- oh!”
“Oh?” Cora repeated, her anger replaced by confusion. A bang from behind her made her whip around, watching as a steel beam fell directly into the flames, consumed quickly as it roared towards them.
“Alright,” the figure said. “Hold on.”
Cora turned back towards them, a frown forming on her face. “What are you-”
She shrieked as they lunged forwards, grabbing her shoulders and pulling them away from the fire, crashing through the wall. Debris rained around them, and she screamed, kicking at her assailant with the fury of the same fire they were escaping from.
They ran through the small room beside the corridor, dodging the rapidly encroaching flames-
-and dived out of the window.