Chapter Text
RayVista wasn’t a city.
It was a living organism.
The buildings rose like towering pillars of glass and Redstone, catching the glow of the giant screens scattered across their façades. Every surface hummed softly, crossed by thin blue pulses running through the circuits embedded in the walls. The wide metal roads echoed under the steady flow of cars, while high-speed trains streaked overhead on suspended rails, their lights sliding past like urban comets. Even the air felt charged with tiny specks of Redstone dust — a faint, luminescent haze that made it seem as if the whole city breathed with an invisible heartbeat.
Nothing like Conderia (Endercon).
Here, everything was bigger, louder, wilder.
Too many people, too many possibilities, too many unknowns. A place where anything could happen — the best or the absolute worst. A city that fueled dreams as easily as it swallowed the reckless.
Jesse, Olivia, and Axel had spent the entire day weaving through different districts to complete their mission. In theory, it sounded simple: transport hyper-fluorescent Redstone blocks — far more unstable than regular Redstone — and connect them to specific points in the global energy grid.
The goal: link several regions to the same energy system as RayVista, including Conderia.
So travelers could follow safe routes.
So signals could cross borders.
So communications, radios, even navigation maps would finally stay reliable from one city to another.
In practice, the mission had been a full-on marathon.
The Redstone crates were heavy — way too heavy — and their inventories had been overflowing for hours. Axel had nearly broken his back trying to lift a box that was clearly too wide for him, and Jesse hadn’t had the heart to say no when he asked for help. Olivia, meanwhile, kept checking her reinforced-glass tablet, the device projecting the exact coordinates of each relay they needed to activate.
On the outer edge of RayVista, far from the bright arteries and colossal screens, the atmosphere shifted sharply. The walls grew darker, the Redstone panels buzzed with an unstable red glow, and the suspended railway cast long, jagged shadows across the asphalt. It was one of those places where the city seemed to come apart a little — where the lights stopped being comforting and turned unsettling.
And, as always, where Redstone light fractured into uneven flickers… monsters were never far behind.
They’d made it this far carrying several crates of highly refined Redstone — blocks charged to their absolute limit, pulsing with a red so bright it almost looked liquid. Olivia had warned them: if the glow became too intense, too steady, it would attract anything lurking in the shaded alleys.
She hadn’t been wrong.
The first zombie had stumbled out of a side street, then two more, then ten — shaky silhouettes, hungry, drawn to the Redstone’s thrum like moths to a flame. Jesse had immediately set one of the crates on the ground — not to drop it, but to keep it steady — before drawing her iron sword. She was always the one who moved to the front. Always. Not because she wanted to play the hero, but because it had become instinct: protect Reuben, protect Olivia, protect Axel, protect her found family.
Olivia, bow in hand, took position on a stone ledge. She bent her knees slightly, scanning the shadows, calculating angles. Her voice cut through the metallic echo of the district.
“Jesse — two on your left, keep your swing open! Axel, don’t hit them with the crate!”
Axel, of course, had already lifted a box full of Redstone to smack a zombie with a move that looked ridiculous but worked terrifyingly well. Olivia shouted just as the crate crashed onto the undead’s skull:
“NOT with that! It’s valuable! Put it down!”
“It’s him or the box!” Axel barked, kicking another zombie away.
Jesse only half-heard them. She moved fast — fast — her sword carving bright arcs under the red neon glow. Every strike carried pure resolve: a zombie dropped, then another, then two more. Her breath blended with the city’s, short, sharp, burning.
Reuben, naturally, didn’t listen to Jesse yelling “Stay behind Olivia!”
He darted everywhere, pushing his tiny Redstone crate with his snout as if that counted as helping. His collar — matching Jesse’s — jingled with each movement, a sound that was both comforting and terrifying at once.
When a skeleton appeared on the suspended tracks above and fired an arrow, Olivia reacted before Jesse.
“Get down!”
Jesse crouched instantly, feeling the arrow’s wind graze the top of her head. Axel hurled a small TNT block — just primed enough to spark without exploding, an improvised decoy — and it startled the skeleton long enough for Jesse to leap onto a platform and slice its head clean off.
Their hearts were beating so hard it felt like they were pulsing in sync with the Redstone.
In the end, the horde pulled back.
Beaten.
Or maybe simply terrified by the raw determination burning in Jesse’s eyes.
They didn’t celebrate.
They just breathed — long, deep breaths, as if air was finally settling back into their lungs.
“We’re not gonna make it on foot,” Olivia muttered. “We need to activate the relays before total nightfall, or the Redstone’s gonna react even worse.”
“Good thing the mayor gave us a car,” Axel said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
The car wasn’t anything fancy. A dented blue chassis, a rough but steady engine, and just enough room for the crates — and for Reuben. Jesse secretly dreamed of learning to drive someday, but Olivia refused as long as Jesse’s first instinct was still to sprint straight into danger. Axel, for his part, had been officially banned from driving anything “for public safety.”
So they loaded everything up, hesitating every time a suspicious noise echoed nearby, then climbed into the car. Olivia at the wheel. Axel in the passenger seat, forehead pressed to the window to marvel at the storefronts and the speeding trains. Jesse in the back seat, one arm wrapped around Reuben, the other steadying the crates so they wouldn’t slide with the first sharp turn.
RayVista opened around them like a living show — lit up, buzzing, alive. Jesse stared at the flickering panels, mesmerized. Olivia mentally dissected the Redstone circuits embedded in the walls. Axel counted food stands, amazed by the amount of things “you never see in Conderia (Endercon).”
But even wonder had its limits.
Too many colors.
Too much noise.
Too much tension building in their bodies.
By the time they reached the hotel, the sun had already vanished. The receptionist looked at them like they were intruders — lost kids in a building far too prestigious for them. He didn’t even reach out to take the key.
“Are you sure you have a reservation?” he asked, with a politeness so fake it might as well have been an insult.
It took the mayor of RayVista himself — grateful for the work they had done, fully aware of the risks they’d taken — to make the receptionist bow and finally hand them the room they’d been promised.
“What a blockhead…” Axel muttered, snatching the key.
They dragged themselves up the stairs. Jesse and Axel were still carrying the last crates, their arms shaking. Reuben zigzagged along the hallway, exhausted yet endlessly curious.
When the door of their suite finally opened, Axel dropped his crates on the floor with a dramatic groan. Jesse did the same, her knees giving out as she collapsed onto the thick carpet, her hands still buzzing from the effort.
Axel literally flopped forward, face-down into the plush rug, arms spread out like his spirit had just left his body.
“I wanna sleep right here. Right now,” he groaned, his voice muffled in the carpet’s fibers.
Jesse let out a tired laugh — the kind that sounded more like a breath breaking apart.
“Honestly… if I could just collapse on the floor and wake up tomorrow morning in the exact same spot… I’d do it. No hesitation.”
She tried to push herself up, but her arms were still trembling from hauling crates all day. She ended up half-sitting, head heavy, legs stretched out in front of her.
Reuben, seeing her drop, trotted toward her immediately. He circled her leg twice in a quick, worried little spiral, then pressed his cold snout to Jesse’s forehead.
A soft, anxious “vrouik?” rose from his throat.
Jesse smiled gently.
“I’m fine, Reureu… don’t worry…”
But Olivia intervened at once — arms crossed, tapping Axel’s shoulder, then Jesse’s, with the authority of an exhausted mom dealing with two impossible children:
“No. No, no, no, no. You two are NOT sleeping on the floor. Not here. Not when we have giant beds right next to us. We did not walk, negotiate, fight, and survive a horde just to end up flattened like pancakes on a carpet. Now up!”
Axel groaned.
Jesse lifted a weak hand toward the ceiling.
Nobody moved.
Olivia let out a loud sigh — that sigh, the very recognizable one she uses when she’s about to insult a situation but is too tired to bother.
She slid her hands under Axel’s shoulders and tried to haul him up like a sack of potatoes. He muttered something about “death” and “carpets that are too soft,” but eventually managed to stand, wobbling.
Reuben, on his side, nudged Jesse’s palm with his head — once, then again, firmer. He pushed.
Jesse shifted a fraction of a centimeter.
He pushed again.
She slid back half a step.
“Okay, okay… I get it… you want me to stand up.”
Using Reuben for support — and despite his small size, he was surprisingly sturdy — she finally made it to her feet.
“Thanks, champ…” she whispered, scratching behind his ear. Reuben closed his eyes, blissful.
“See?” Olivia declared triumphantly. “Everyone’s standing. And now: each to your room. I don’t want to see either of you dying dramatically in the middle of the hallway.”
Axel raised a hand, like a half-dead student.
“I’m… I’m gonna… go eat… then sleep… maybe sleep while I eat…”
He staggered into his room. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Reuben immediately trotted back to Jesse, grabbed the hem of her pants between his teeth — not pulling, just a tiny adorable “come with me” — and started walking toward the room assigned to Jesse.
Jesse chuckled softly.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming… you’re too cute to be legal…”
Jesse stepped into the room, grabbed the handle to close the door behind her — but a hand suddenly slid through the gap, stopping it.
Olivia.
“Hey, wait,” she said, with a small smile.
Jesse raised an eyebrow, surprised but not annoyed.
“You wanna… come in?”
“Yeah.”
Olivia shrugged, a little awkward but completely sincere. “We didn’t really get a moment to sit down today. And… I kinda wanna talk with you. Just you and me.”
Jesse nodded.
“Of course. Come in.”
The room was huge — way too huge for someone like Jesse, who’d grown up in modest spaces. The walls were smooth, white, slightly iridescent.
Polished quartz lined the edges in clean lines, inlaid with thin strips of goldstone — a rare, gleaming material used to give high-end structures their warm golden accents.
A deep blue carpet covered the floor, absorbing the light like a silent ocean.
The bed, massive and draped in almost glowing white fabric, looked softer than an enchanted cloud.
A full glass wall offered a complete view of RayVista — no windowpanes, no frame, just a transparent barrier opening onto a vibrant world.
Outside, the giant panels shifted their colors, casting shades of blue, pink, and violet across the room.
Jesse stood there for a long moment.
Her exhausted brain was probably trying to process the information:
They were going to sleep here.
Olivia, meanwhile, walked straight to the glass wall, wide-eyed.
“Whoa… look at that… all those Redstone lines… it’s beautiful. They look like they’re breathing.”
The door had barely clicked shut behind them when Jesse collapsed onto the bed, as if her body had decided to temporarily put her entire existence on hold.
She never complained.
Never.
But this time, a rough, painful sound escaped her — a real groan, almost shocking coming from her.
Olivia’s eyebrows shot up.
“Wait… you’re the one complaining?” she said, sounding more surprised than worried.
“That’s usually my job.”
Jesse didn’t even respond. She lay there with her legs dangling off the side of the bed, shoes still on, eyes fixed on the immaculate ceiling.
She was drained. Crushed by effort, exhaustion, the long hours of hauling supplies, the saturated Redstone crates, the fight, the drive, the lights. She’d lost the ability to form words.
A soft plop sounded.
Reuben had hopped onto the bed.
With all the grace of a living pillow, he pressed himself against Jesse’s back, his tiny legs stretching as if trying to hug her, warm breath pulsing through his fur.
Jesse didn’t even feel him at first.
Just a faint little movement behind her shoulder, like an external heartbeat.
Olivia smiled gently.
“Look… even Reuben’s trying to cheer you up.”
Jesse opened one heavy eye, turning her head slowly toward Olivia, then toward Reuben.
“I’m really lucky to have him…” she whispered.
She tried to sit up — terrible idea.
Her back protested sharply, pain shooting across her lower spine, and when she lifted her torso too fast, Reuben lost his balance.
The poor thing rolled over suddenly and slipped off the mattress with a muffled little “bwoink!”
“Reuben!”
Jesse leapt — or rather, attempted a dramatic leap, but her body immediately complained — and threw herself sideways to catch him before he could panic.
She scooped him into her arms, holding him tightly. Reuben let out an offended little grunt, then calmed instantly as soon as he pressed his snout against Jesse’s collarbone.
Olivia, standing near the glass wall overlooking the city, couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“You are absolutely wrecked today.”
Still holding Reuben, Jesse walked over to join Olivia near the glass.
And as she approached, the city seemed to widen, stretch its lights, unfold like a living map.
RayVista pulsed beneath them:
cars below like hurried fireflies;
neon panels flickering in waves of color;
strands of suspended Redstone between buildings, glowing like veins running through some gigantic creature.
Jesse stopped abruptly.
A soft breath of awe slipped out of her.
Olivia smiled — almost proud to be the one showing her this sight.
“Looks like the mayor wasn’t joking. He really gave us a gift…”
“Yeah,” Jesse murmured, still captivated. “After all, we helped him stop the monsters from destroying the rails a second time. It’s normal he’d want to thank us.”
Olivia frowned slightly, her expression just a bit too cautious for someone fully swept up in admiration.
“Maybe… but look around you. These people, these cars… these Redstone systems… What they have here is… something else.
There are probably engineers a thousand times more experienced than me.
Real experts.
And honestly…” She sighed. “I feel like I don’t understand anything. Their Redstone… it’s on another level.”
Jesse turned her head toward her, a soft, bittersweet smile pulling at her lips.
“You know… sometimes people build without thinking about how it works.
They place one block, then another, and somehow it just… works.
And that creates cars, lights that shine three times brighter than normal, ultra-fast trains… towers like these.”
She pointed at the massive skyscrapers rising around them.
“But you, Olivia… you want the logic. You want to know how things function. That’s what being an engineer is. And trust me, you have nothing to worry about. If there’s someone here who’s gonna learn something… it’s definitely you. And me too, honestly. Look at this place… I love everything about building. RayVista is like a giant playground.”
Olivia stared at her for a long second, mouth slightly open, before letting out a short, nervous but genuine laugh.
“I can’t believe you just… said something a Redstone engineer would say.
Or a… I don’t know… world-builder.
That was almost Soren-level.”
Jesse laughed softly.
“Oh, stop it, you’re too cute.”
Olivia blushed just a little, then looked away to gently pat Reuben on the head.
“And you, Reuben…” she murmured, tapping his snout lightly. “I know you don’t understand what we’re talking about, but just know Jesse and I love tinkering and figuring stuff out. It’s kinda… our thing.”
Reuben blinked once, then nudged Olivia’s hand with his snout.
Jesse smiled.
“If you ever wanna build a whole city, Reuben…”
She shook her head, laughing. “…you’ll need skills in every material ever, mountains of Redstone, and a whole lot of expertise. That’s why we learn.
To someday reach a world this perfect.”
Olivia nodded, proud to hear Jesse speak with such confidence.
The two of them stayed there for a moment, standing in the cold ceiling light and the shifting reflections of the city that danced across the glass.
“Actually…” Olivia finally said, folding her arms, “I noticed something. Something pretty strange, actually. A theory.”
Jesse, still breathless but curious, raised an eyebrow.
Reuben blinked up at Olivia from Jesse’s arms, his tiny ears twitching.
“Go on,” Jesse murmured. “I wanna know what you’re thinking.”
Olivia moved toward the giant glass wall — the one overlooking RayVista’s central plaza. Night was settling over the city, and the enormous neon signs, the bold colors, the animated displays reflected across her skin and Jesse’s. Their dark eyes shimmered with flashes of red, blue, and violet.
The light practically vibrated across their faces.
“Ever since we’ve traveled farther from the center… ever since we’ve left Conderia to visit bigger cities or outlying towns…” she began, resting her palm against the glass, “…the monsters change. They’re stronger. Faster. Like they adapt to the city they’re in.”
Jesse stepped closer, intrigued.
Reuben wriggled in her arms, trying to look out the window too.
“RayVista…” Olivia continued, “it’s huge. Packed with energy, packed with people, packed with Redstone. Look at this brightness—Even Conderia isn’t this saturated.”
She pointed at the streets below — the cars, the glowing cables, the shimmering crash-bars running along the rails.
“I think… the more populated or technologically advanced a city is — the more energy it produces — the stronger the monsters around it become. Like they’re drawn to it… or forced to adapt to survive.”
She turned toward Jesse.
“In the small villages we passed through… the zombies were weak. Slow. In Arvenne — your hometown — they barely had anything special about them. In Sarenfall—” she mentioned her own city “—they were already faster, more aggressive.”
Olivia tapped her foot lightly, eyes fixed on some invisible point.
“And in Axel’s city…” she added, her tone darkening, “the infected had glass fused into their skin. Stained glass. Decorative stone. Bricks. Like the city itself was growing into their bodies.”
Right on cue, the door swung open with a long clack.
Axel poked his head inside, eyes sunken, hair flattened on one side.
“Hey! Are you guys talking about my city?” he croaked, voice sluggish.
Without waiting for any answer, he dropped face-first onto Jesse’s bed like a sack of potatoes.
“Aaahhh… Jess’, you took the best room again. As always…”
Jesse let out a soft laugh, which made Olivia exhale in exasperation — a gesture that only made Jesse laugh harder.
Reuben gave a small, amused “houink.”
Olivia picked up again, a little more serious now, pointing one by one at their gear laid out on the dresser: Jesse’s sword, Axel’s hammer, Olivia’s modern crossbow.
“Even our weapons change depending on where we go… you’ve noticed that, right? In the villages, a simple stone sword was enough. Now look: your iron sword is barely holding up. My crossbow needs reloading three times faster. Axel had to reinforce his hammer because the skeletons here have insane defense.”
She drew in a deep breath.
“What I mean is… every city shapes its monsters. Its dangers. Its rules. And the farther we go, the harder it gets. The more we have to adapt.”
Axel, despite being half-asleep, raised his hand without opening his eyes:
“I second that. Those zombies earlier… they hit like tired golems. I thought they were gonna break my spine.”
Jesse gave a faint smile and added:
“I felt the difference too. Being on the front line… they were heavier, faster. Way different from the ones in Arvenne, clearly.”
Reuben lifted his head abruptly, as if saying: See? Told you.
Olivia turned slightly away, an uneasy wrinkle forming on her forehead.
“Exactly,” she said softly. “You almost got bitten.”
Jesse shrugged in a clumsy attempt to reassure her.
“I stopped it, Olivia. Don’t worry, I can hand—”
Reuben struck her chest with a tiny hoof — a sharp houink, like don’t say that.
Jesse blinked, startled.
Olivia was giving her the exact same look as Reuben: a mix of warning, worry, and frustration.
“Jesse…”
She shook her head slowly.
“Not like that. Not tonight.”
Axel, already drifting off, mumbled, “She’s right…” before sliding back into sleep.
And just like that, Jesse found herself trapped between two pairs of eyes:
Olivia’s serious, piercing gaze —
and Reuben’s round, impossibly expressive one.
Olivia inhaled deeply, straightened her shoulders, then spoke again, her voice lower:
“Because if I’m explaining all this to you… it’s not to scare you. It’s for one specific reason.”
She stepped forward.
“And I don’t think you’ve figured out which one yet.”
Olivia stayed still for a few seconds after saying that. Then she broke eye contact, turning slowly toward the small table beside the bed. She lowered herself into the armchair facing the window — the one with a direct view of RayVista glowing in the night.
She didn’t say anything.
She didn’t have to.
Her whole posture screamed: Come sit. We need to talk.
Jesse stopped a few steps away from her.
Her stomach tightened—not in fear, exactly, but in that way it does when you feel something coming.
She stayed standing, arms crossed, focused.
“What do you… mean by that?” she asked softly.
Olivia inhaled.
She didn’t look at her right away.
Her eyes followed the flow of cars far below, the red reflections sliding across the glass, and only then did she answer:
“Jesse… you’re really bad at hiding.”
Jesse blinked, taken aback.
“What do you mean, I’m bad at hiding?”
Olivia finally met her gaze. Her pupils shimmered with all the colors of the city outside.
“Ever since I’ve known you… even before, in Arvenne… you always rush in. Always. Headfirst, no hesitation. At first, I thought it was just… I don’t know, your thing. A way to prove something, or maybe you just needed to burn energy.”
Jesse opened her mouth to respond, but Olivia kept going.
“But then we spent every single day together. You, Axel, Reuben, and me… and I realized something I really wish I hadn’t.”
Jesse felt Reuben shift in her arms, like he sensed it too—where this was heading.
Olivia leaned her elbows onto the armrests of the chair.
“The farther we go… the fewer mistakes we’re allowed. One mistake, Jesse. One. And we’re done.”
A silence settled.
“The mayor of Conderia doesn’t care about us. The whole city doesn’t care about us. If we disappeared tomorrow… they wouldn’t even look for our bodies. They’d just collect our inventories.”
Jesse’s hold on Reuben tightened.
The little piglet let out a sad squeak.
“Olivia…”
“No,” Olivia cut in.
She shook her head slowly.
“There aren’t a lot of people on our side. No family. No friends. Nothing. Just the four of us. You, Axel, Reuben… and me. We all left our hometowns to find something better.”
She counted on her fingers.
“Arvenne… the place you couldn’t stand anymore.
Sarenfall… where I was suffocated by ridiculous expectations.
And Dravenrock… where everything was about brute strength and rare ores.”
She raised her head.
“We came to Conderia to be free. And we ended up even more trapped.”
Jesse swallowed.
Olivia continued, quieter now:
“And you… what do you do? You take everything on your shoulders. You rush in. You attack. And you set a pace the rest of us can’t keep up with. I’m asking you one thing: do you even realize how strong you are? Do you realize the weight of what you do?”
Jesse tried to answer honestly.
“Yes… I pay attention. I look for openings, posture—”
Olivia raised her hand to stop her.
“Not that. I’m talking about you. About your life. About the way you think you can take everything alone. And how… if something happens to you, even once, we’re forced to take your place. Axel has to defend you. Or me. Or worse…” Her voice dropped.
“…Reuben.”
Reuben slipped gently out of Jesse’s arms and waddled toward Olivia, very clearly choosing her side.
He let out a small approving grunt.
Jesse stared at both of them.
“Are you two serious right now?”
Reuben dipped his head — the tiniest nod.
A confident houink.
From the bed, Axel mumbled, half-asleep:
“…mmmhm… she’s right…”
Jesse rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed.
Her shoulders relaxed a little, and she finally moved to sit in the chair facing Olivia.
Silence settled between them for a few seconds.
Only the distant hum of the city filled the room.
Olivia took a deep breath… then reached out and took Jesse’s hands in hers.
Her palms were warm.
Steady.
Sincere.
“Listen…” she said, her voice trembling just a bit.
“You three… you’re the only people I’ve ever really felt real with. I can live with you. Laugh with you. Get mad, talk, be myself. And… that’s never happened before.”
Jesse lowered her eyes.
Her fingers tightened around Olivia’s without meaning to.
“So when I see you… throwing yourself at monsters stronger than you…
When I see you lift two daggers like that’s normal…
When I see you ready for anything just to keep us safe…”
Olivia swallowed.
“…it scares me. I don’t want to lose my best friend. The first real best friend I’ve ever had.”
Jesse’s lips parted.
No sound came out.
Olivia continued, steadier this time:
“And look at what’s happening. The mayor keeps sending us on impossible missions. Missions meant for seasoned mercenaries. For people like Petra. Not for us. He wants us gone. And you know it.”
Jesse nodded weakly.
“Yeah… I know,” she whispered.
“I noticed it too. I just… didn’t want to worry you.”
Axel’s voice suddenly cut through the room — clear this time.
He had pushed himself upright, sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard.
His legs swung over the edge, his forearms resting on his knees.
“It was obvious from the start,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
“In my city… people fought to become mercenaries. And they were good. Some of them begged to get into Conderia. All of them got rejected. Every single one. Supposedly because the list was full.”
He shrugged, tired and irritated.
“Except no. The mayor only had you, Olivia, Jesse, and me. Three newbies and a guy with a hammer. It’s completely stupid.”
He leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a long, defeated sigh.
His feet swung nervously in the air, tapping nothing, restless.
“All of this…” he said, voice tightening.
Silence.
Then, with genuine annoyance:
“…all of this because of that idiot.”
Olivia and Jesse both turned toward him at the exact same moment, perfectly synchronized.
Silence.
Their eyebrows lifted slightly.
Then their lips parted — the same way, the same timing.
Even Reuben looked up, as if he’d figured it out before them.
And in perfect harmony, almost choreographed, Olivia and Jesse released a short:
“…Oh. Aiden.”
Axel nodded slowly, utterly done.
“Well, yeah. Who else?”
Olivia sat up a little straighter in her chair, still holding Jesse’s hand.
“He’s right,” she said.
Her voice took on that dry, clear tone she only used when she finally accepted an uncomfortable truth.
“It is because of him. Because of him… and everything he dragged us into.”
Axel lifted a hand, as if jotting notes in midair.
“Oh, wait — remember when he dumped ICE WATER on us the second we walked out of the shop with OUR sodas?”
Olivia practically jolted.
“Oh my god, yes! The taste changed!” she cried, placing a hand on her chest as if reliving a culinary trauma.
“It haunted me for three days! You were traumatized too, Axel, you kept talking about it that night.”
Axel rolled his eyes dramatically.
“It was a LEMONADE. Cold. Perfect. We’d been waiting for it for HOURS. And he ruined it.”
Jesse stifled a nervous laugh, even though her expression stayed tight.
Olivia pressed on.
“And remember when he threw slimeballs at you during your lumberjack shift?”
Jesse’s hand shot up instantly.
“Nope. That one stays forgotten.”
Axel burst into laughter.
“You had a chunk of slime stuck to your head ALL morning. I swear, even the trees felt bad for you.”
Olivia jumped right back in:
“And when he followed you to your fishing spot, Jesse? He stood behind you like some sick shadow… and then he PLOP–DUNKED you into the water!”
Jesse closed her eyes, as if the memory physically hurt.
“Please. I can still smell the fish on my soul.”
Axel slammed his fist onto the mattress, dying of laughter.
“You came back soaked like an axolotl!”
Reuben let out an outraged houink, clearly remembering the incident too. Even his tiny ears drooped in indignation.
The mood lightened for a moment…
Then Jesse raised a hand, cutting the list off cleanly.
“Okay… stop. If we start listing everything he’s done to us, we’ll still be here tomorrow morning.”
Silence fell again.
Quick. Heavy.
Olivia cleared her throat into her fist and straightened a little.
“Yeah… but that’s the point.”
Her tone shifted back to serious.
“I think all of this started with Aiden, sure. But the real culprit… is the mayor.”
Axel lifted his head slightly, intrigued.
Jesse frowned.
“The mayor?”
Olivia nodded slowly.
“Aiden… always had privileges. Too many. He could do whatever he wanted, say whatever he wanted, harass whoever he wanted… and the mayor let him.”
She finally let go of Jesse’s hand, just so she could gesture widely.
“The mayor threw us into community work for weeks: fishing, lumber, textiles, cleaning, store duty… And we never earned anything. Not a single material. Nothing.”
She emphasized the word.
“And materials, Jesse — they’re our reputation. They’re what say whether we exist or not. Without them, we’re… nothing.”
Axel nodded in agreement.
Olivia went on:
“And then, out of nowhere, he turns us into mercenaries. No explanation. No training.
And he sends us into areas even veterans refuse to approach.
Into alliances only people like Petra should handle!
It’s insane.”
She leaned forward slightly.
“I think he’s trying to get rid of us. Not officially, obviously. Just… sending us into impossible missions so we die ‘accidentally.’”
She made air quotes.
“And then he can say: ‘Oh, what a shame, they were too weak.’”
A shiver ran down Jesse’s spine.
She placed a hand on her thigh, anxious — and Reuben immediately climbed onto her lap, settling there protectively.
Olivia noticed.
She lowered her head gently.
“And I hate being right about this kind of thing… but it lines up too perfectly.”
Axel looked away, elbows on his knees, forehead nearly resting on his arms.
“And all of this,” Axel muttered, “started because the mayor believed whatever Aiden said. He was like, ‘Oh hey, must be Jesse and her friends’ fault.’”
He tapped the headboard in irritation.
“As if Aiden was a reliable source… seriously.”
Olivia let out a shaky breath.
Jesse closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she opened them again.
Clear.
Steady.
Decided.
She set both hands on Reuben, as if grounding herself, then lifted her chin.
“If that’s really what’s happening… then we’re going to do the exact opposite of what they expect.”
Olivia’s head snapped up, surprised.
Axel looked at her too.
Jesse, resolute:
“We’re going to turn this situation in our favor.”
She stood as she said it, as if the words themselves had pulled her to her feet.
The warm glow of the lamp — the only gentle light in the dim room — lit her cheek, outlining her face with a faint golden edge.
Outside, RayVista’s neon signs pulsed and shifted against the glass.
The city was still alive — loud, sprawling, electric… but inside this small corner of light, there were only three silhouettes listening.
Jesse stepped closer to the window, placing her hand flat against the cold glass.
RayVista.
Its car-packed streets. Its glowing panels. Its mayor who had welcomed them like heroes. And more than anything… the feeling that, for the first time in a long while, something in the world believed in them.
She drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders, then turned back toward Axel and Olivia.
A small smile formed at the corner of her lips — a smile of decision, the kind she wore only when she’d chosen something that would change everything.
“We’re going to surprise them. All of them.”
Axel, slumped on the bed, instantly lifted his head.
“Surprise them? How?”
Jesse stepped forward, the lamplight catching on the daggers hidden beneath her hair.
She stopped right between Axel and Olivia, standing like a team leader about to announce a plan.
“They think we’re weak. That we always have been. That we’ll stay that way.”
Olivia crossed her arms, focused.
“But,” Jesse continued, “that’s not true. Look at who we’ve become since Arvenne, Sarenfall, and Axel’s village.”
She pointed at Axel — teasing, but without malice.
“Axel, you — at the beginning, when you hit a zombie, it was like punching a pillow.”
Axel grinned, almost proudly.
“And now?”
He raised his arms and flexed dramatically, puffing out his chest.
“Now I crush skulls!”
“Brutal, but true,” Jesse laughed.
Axel blushed a little, rubbing his cheek.
“Okay… yeah, it’s true I got stronger.”
Jesse turned toward Olivia.
“And you, Olivia… before, you had a regular crossbow. You were quick, sharp, good at support — but now?”
Olivia couldn’t hide the spark of pride in her eyes.
“Now I’ve got a modified crossbow that can fire three bolts. And I developed two new mechanisms to detect enemies above or below us. And… I built those arrow dispensers, remember?”
Axel exploded:
“OH YES! Those little heads popping out — tchac tchac tchac!
That was AMAZING!”
Jesse laughed softly, then set a hand on Olivia’s shoulder.
“See? You’re becoming dangerous.
Smart, yeah — but dangerous too. In the good way.”
Olivia looked away, flustered but clearly moved.
“As for me…” Jesse placed a hand on her waist, where her two daggers were hidden.
“I’ve learned how to duplicate my fighting rhythm. I’ve learned to use brute force… and speed. In this world, everything can be upgraded. Weapons. Armor. Even us.”
Reuben, sitting on the floor, lifted his head in agreement.
His little ears perked straight up.
Jesse continued:
“You feel it too, right? Every time we fight — we get stronger. Every time we build — we get smarter. Every time we travel to a new city — we adapt.”
Axel nodded seriously.
So did Olivia.
“Every experience matters. Every fight. Every mission. Even every city we walk through.”
She stepped forward, then another step, returning to the window.
RayVista’s shadows rippled across her face.
“What we’re missing… isn’t skill. It’s materials. They want us stuck as novices. No armor. No resources. Nothing to prove what we’re actually worth.”
Olivia added sharply:
“And if we show up with too much equipment, the mayor pops a vein.”
Axel raised a finger:
“Or two.”
Jesse couldn’t help but smile.
“So…” she said, turning toward them with a spark of strategy igniting in her eyes,
“…we hide our materials. We keep everything for ourselves. We stash them somewhere safe. We gather resources discreetly while we’re away from Conderia. We build. We upgrade. We grow.”
She placed a hand over her heart.
“And when the time comes… we show them what we’re worth. Not to impress them — but to take back our freedom. What the mayor stole from us. What Aiden kept us from having. What even our old lives refused to give.”
Reuben climbed onto Jesse’s legs, energized, his tiny head bobbing enthusiastically.
When Jesse mentioned farming, he jumped, spun in a tiny excited loop on the carpet, then pressed himself against her foot with a proud houink.
Axel straightened fully, bracing an elbow on his knee.
“So… you mean we could… build our own place? Get our own materials? Forge our own weapons? Make our projects? Blow stuff up?”
Jesse:
“Yeah. All of that.”
Olivia stood with her arms crossed, staring at her with a mix of skepticism… and unmistakable admiration.
“You mean… we stop apologizing for existing? And start showing what we’re actually capable of?”
Jesse nodded slowly.
“Yes.
Because we have the right. Because we deserve better. Because we’re not novices. We’re not the mayor’s puppets. And we’re definitely not Aiden’s punching bags.”
Silence.
A powerful silence.
Then Jesse finished:
“We can flip the whole situation. We can take back our freedom. We can build the life we wanted when we came to Conderia (Endercon). And it starts now.”
Reuben let out a tiny, triumphant squeal.
Axel finally smiled — wide, genuine.
Olivia drew a deep breath…
And something in her eyes lit up — a spark of courage, certainty, maybe even hope…
But that spark didn’t erase the small crease of worry between her brows.
Jesse saw it right away.
A frown so subtle you had to know her intimately to catch it. But Jesse did know her. She saw exactly what held Olivia back, the thing tugging at her despite the motivation she was trying to follow.
Jesse straightened and stepped toward her, gently:
“Olivia… what’s on your mind?”
Olivia lifted her eyes.
For a moment, the warm lamplight reflected off her glasses, then vanished as she tilted her head.
She was thinking — really thinking.
Then she said quietly:
“I want to agree with you, Jesse… but… what are we gonna do about the other mercenaries following us?”
Silence.
Axel, who’d been sprawled on the bed, jerked his head up.
“Huh? What? What mercenaries following us?!”
Olivia exhaled sharply through her nose, stood up straighter, and walked toward the window — the curtain brushing her arm.
“You know… I read a lot of assignment boards.
The mission logs, the travel rotations, who’s supposed to go where, when…”
She turned slightly toward them.
“And I noticed something. All the mercenaries from Conderia (Endercon)… are in RayVista. All of them. No exceptions.”
Jesse’s eyes widened.
Axel blinked several times, like his brain was buffering.
A silence dropped — a real one.
Not comfortable.
Not peaceful.
A heavy, sudden silence that made something tighten deep in Jesse’s chest.
“Wait, wait…” Jesse breathed.
“They’re supposed to be… somewhere else. Spread out. On missions. Not here.”
Axel snapped fully awake and shot upright.
“Exactly! That’s not normal at ALL!”
Olivia, thrown off, looked from one to the other.
“What? What isn’t normal?”
Jesse drew in a slow breath.
“I heard Aiden talking about leaving for another world. To get new weapons. He said it like it was urgent.”
Axel narrowed his eyes.
“And I heard Petra was supposed to go way west. Some city where mercenaries get tested, not pampered, y’know? So why would she be here?”
All three of them turned toward the window at the same moment, like their instincts synced.
Jesse in the center, palms against the glass.
Olivia on the left, eyes narrowed as she scanned the crowd.
Axel on the right, practically pressing his nose to the window.
Reuben hustled across the carpet and sat right at the frame, his little snout smushed against the cold glass.
RayVista’s lights passed beneath them like a river:
blue neon lines, red panels, moving shadows, car reflections.
Everything pulsed, shifted, blended into motion.
But there was no trace of Aiden.
None of Lukas.
None of Petra.
None of the others.
And somehow… that was worse.
“If all the mercenaries are here…” Jesse whispered.
“…then why?”
Olivia put a hand on her hip, tugging lightly at her dress.
“That’s what scares me. Because when all the mercenaries gather in one place, it always ends badly. Some sabotage each other’s missions. Some want all the credit. Some steal resources. We’ve all seen it happen.”
Axel nodded hard.
“Yeah, and… some of them are just idiots.”
He shot a look at Jesse — a look that very clearly meant Aiden.
Jesse sighed.
“Olivia, you mentioned Petra too… why do you say you don’t really trust the situation with her?”
Olivia kept her eyes on the city below.
“Petra isn’t mean, Jesse. That’s not it.”
She inhaled slowly.
“But I feel like… she doesn’t let you choose.
Like she decides for you.”
Jesse turned toward her, confused.
“What? But… Petra never forced me. She just… offered.”
“Offered?” Olivia repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Jesse, she grabs you by the arm without waiting. She chooses a mission and you follow. She listens to you… rarely.
I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
Axel — who adored Petra — tried to defend her:
“Hey, hold on! Petra’s awesome! Strong, badass, loyal, honest! All of Conderia would trust her with their eyes closed! It’s not the same as… him.”
Olivia raised a hand to calm him down.
“I’m not saying she’s bad, Axel. I’m saying she never really let Jesse say yes or no. And Jesse…”
Olivia looked Jesse straight in the eyes.
“…you say yes to everyone. You want to help.
It’s beautiful… but it’s dangerous.”
Jesse opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Axel whistled awkwardly through his teeth.
“Okay… I gotta admit… Olivia’s not wrong. Jesse, you’re nice. Too nice. And Petra… well… she’s got a strong personality.”
Jesse lifted her hands, cutting off their argument before it started.
“Stop, please. I get what you’re saying. But what really worries me right now… are those mercenaries. All of them. Here. In the same city.”
Olivia pulled away from the window, arms crossed tightly, looking deeply troubled.
“I just hope they don’t step on our missions.
If we run into them… it could end really badly.”
Axel growled:
“Especially if that idiot’s with them.”
“Axel…” Olivia sighed.
“What? It’s true! Everything falls apart because of that guy, I swear—”
Jesse was about to speak when Reuben suddenly let out a sharp, urgent squeak.
All three of them froze.
Reuben’s snout was pressed to the glass.
His eyes were huge.
Locked onto something below.
“What is it, Reuben?” Jesse whispered.
The pig didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink. He just stared.
Something in his posture made Jesse’s stomach drop. Reuben never stayed still like that — especially not silent.
His tiny body was pulled tight like a bowstring.
His ears didn’t twitch. And his snout stayed glued to the cold glass, fixed on the exact spot where he’d seen that ginger silhouette.
But from where Jesse, Axel and Olivia stood… they could see nothing. The street was too far down. The neon lights too bright. Too many moving shadows for one clear shape.
What Reuben had seen…
they couldn’t.
Axel suddenly stretched, snapping the tension like une ficelle.
“Alright… listen, girls…” he yawned loudly.
“I am really, like REALLY done for today.
If I don’t take a nap right now, I’m gonna collapse right here on the spot.”
Olivia lifted an eyebrow — half amused, half exhausted.
Axel kept going, dragging a hand through his messy hair:
“After a good mini-nap — mini, I insist — we go grab a pizza, or something to munch on, I don’t know…
We bring it back to the hotel, eat here all comfy, and we think about all this with a clearer head.
Deal?”
Jesse and Olivia exchanged a look, then answered together:
“Okay.”
“Sounds good.”
Satisfied, Axel grabbed their hands — Jesse’s with his right hand, Olivia’s with his left — and without warning, he jumped, dragging them with him like an overexcited kid reigniting the room’s energy.
All three of them landed heavily on the enormous bed.
So heavily that a sudden CRACK echoed from beneath the combined weight of Jesse and Axel, sending all three into immediate laughter.
Jesse fell back onto the mattress, laughing breathlessly.
Olivia clutched her ribs.
Axel was giggling like an idiot, proud of the chaos he’d caused.
Reuben, meanwhile…
Reuben jumped back as if someone had fired a cannon next to his ear.
The sound of the bed snapping had ripped him out of his hyper-alert state, and he leapt so fast he nearly slid across the carpet before sprinting toward them.
He abandoned his watch at the window — a clear sign he had been truly, genuinely scared.
He scrambled onto the bed — well, onto Jesse’s side — and curled himself almost violently against her, as if making sure she was safe.
Jesse’s hand immediately moved to his back to reassure him.
“Easy, Reuben… it’s okay. Nothing happened.”
Olivia was about to say something — a sentence forming on her lips — but she was cut off by a thunderous noise:
Axel snoring.
Already.
In less than twenty seconds.
Jesse froze.
Olivia’s eyes went wide.
“Wait…” Jesse whispered.
“We just fell onto the bed. Like, just now. Not even thirty seconds ago.
How did he fall asleep THAT fast?”
Olivia shrugged.
“Jesse… it’s Axel.”
A small amused smile.
“You should know that by now.”
A gentler silence filled the room.
But Olivia’s expression tightened again.
That same shadow of worry returned — the one Jesse had spotted earlier.
“Jesse…” Olivia murmured, rubbing her fingers together nervously.
“I need to tell you something.
And I don’t want you to freak out. Okay?”
Jesse lifted her head, suddenly alert, a knot forming tight in her throat.
“Uh-oh… What’s wrong?”
Olivia inhaled, ready to speak.
But before a single word came out—
DRIIINNG!
The doorbell rang — sharp, metallic, unexpected.
Jesse jolted so hard Reuben squeaked in panic.
Olivia pressed a hand to her heart.
Even Axel groaned in his sleep.
Jesse and Olivia exchanged a look.
“We… weren’t expecting anyone…” Olivia said, puzzled.
“No… no one,” Jesse confirmed.
Both of them pushed themselves off the bed at the same time, still shaken, Reuben right at their heels, his tiny hooves tapping rapidly across the carpet.
They crossed the bedroom and stepped into the small divider that led to the suite’s living area:
a chic little space with a drink counter, a sleek microwave, a few neatly aligned glass cups.
The lighting there was dimmer, colder.
Jesse moved toward the wall intercom, still a bit breathless from the shock.
The tiny red light was blinking. A steady blink. Not urgent… but not reassuring either. Just enough to spark a bad feeling deep in Jesse’s chest.
She picked up the receiver.
The handset was cold — colder than the window Reuben had pressed his snout against earlier.
Olivia positioned herself right at Jesse’s side, her face tense.
Reuben wedged himself between their ankles, nearly tripping both of them, then climbed awkwardly against Jesse’s leg.
Jesse had to lower the receiver… almost to her waist, so Reuben could “listen” too.
Three heads clustered together.
She breathed in.
“Yes… hello?”
A man’s voice — rough, scratchy, unpleasantly familiar — answered:
“Yes, good evening. RayVista Hotel reception speaking. Who am I talking to?”
He had that way of talking…
Like someone who disliked you without even knowing you. Flat tone, authoritative, with a hint of badly hidden contempt.
Jesse responded, cautious:
“This is Jesse. Jesse. VIP room E-28.”
The shift in his voice was immediate.
Not a pleasant shift.
More like: Ah. So it’s THAT “special client.” Of course it is.
“Oh, well, perfect then,” he said, dripping with fake politeness.
“I have a… person here who gave your name and room number. And they’re asking for you to come downstairs.”
A small pause.
“Immediately.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide.
Reuben practically stopped breathing.
A cold shiver ran all the way down Jesse’s neck.
“Wait, but… I don’t know anyone here,” she said.
“Is it… the mayor?”
A strange silence pulsed through the intercom.
Not long. But meaningful.
The receptionist seemed to enjoy the tension.
Then:
“Oh… no. No. I’d rather let you have… the surprise. Or the shock.”
You could practically hear his smug little smile.
“Anyway. I’m just the messenger. Should I tell this person to leave?”
Olivia’s mouth opened — ready to say YES, maybe even scream it.
Reuben’s ears twitched frantically, pressing himself against Jesse’s leg in full panic mode.
But Jesse answered before either of them.
“No. No, I… I’m coming down.”
She swallowed her fear.
“Tell them to wait in the lobby.”
Olivia snapped toward her like a piston, eyes blown wide open.
Reuben let out a long, desperate grouiiiiiic, the sound of a tiny pig fully convinced the world was ending.
“What?!” said Jesse as she hung up.
“You’re the ones who said we need to be careful. Someone giving my name and my VIP room number — that’s not just anyone.”
Olivia pressed both hands to her temples.
“Not just anyone…”
She exhaled sharply.
“Or one of the worst. Aiden could totally follow you here. Or Lukas—”
“Why would Aiden follow me all the way to a huge city like RayVista?” Jesse cut in.
Olivia pointed at her, outraged:
“JESS. He’s literally insane. He followed you all over Conderia! He found you in the forest, at the market, at your job, in the East District, in the hangar… He could absolutely have taken the morning train just to ruin your day here.”
Reuben nodded so fast his ears whipped through the air.
Jesse let out a sigh.
“Look, Olivia… if it is Aiden, I’ll be back upstairs in thirty seconds. And I’ve got my phone.”
She opened her inventory — a soft blue glow flickered in her hand before disappearing.
“And if it makes you feel better… I’m taking my sword too.”
She headed back into the bedroom, slipped on her sneakers, summoned her sword for a moment, then tucked it back into her inventory. The metal flashed briefly under the warm ceiling light.
Olivia followed her to the entryway, nerves all over her face.
“I… I don’t like this, Jesse. I’ve got a really bad feeling. And… I had… something important to tell you.”
Jesse placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Then text me. I’ll check it downstairs. And I’ll come right back. Promise.”
Reuben trotted after Jesse, ready to glue himself to her like a living shadow.
But she turned back, knelt in front of him, and placed a gentle hand on his head.
Her voice softened into something almost maternal.
“Reuben… you stay with Olivia, okay?”
The pig shook his head — a very clear no.
“I know, I know… but if something happens, I want you two somewhere safe. I swear, if anything goes wrong, I’ll come right back up.”
Reuben let out a worried little squeak… but stepped back.
He pressed himself against Olivia’s leg.
Jesse smiled at him, warm and soft.
She grabbed the handle and opened the door.
She glanced back one last time: Olivia with her arms crossed tightly, Reuben sitting at her leg like a tiny trembling guard dog.
“I won’t take long. And don’t open the door for anyone. Okay?”
The door closed behind her with a heavy click.
The hallway suddenly became very, very quiet.
It was long.
Not the kind of long you get in cheap hotels where fifteen doors line up like a bad joke.
No. Here, there were only three suites per floor, each taking up the space of a small apartment.
So that length…
That disproportionate stretch of space…
It gave Jesse a strange feeling — like she was too small in a place built for grandeur, for luxury, for people who had always mattered.
And she… she felt like nothing more than a speck of dust inside a building far too rich for her.
Which was ironic.
Jesse wasn’t a small person.
Her strong build, her broad shoulders, her natural adventurer’s stride — she usually felt like she took up space without even trying.
Here… she felt the opposite.
RayVista swallowed everything.
Even her.
She walked.
The warm marble floor sent back soft echoes.
And in those echoes, something almost sounded like a heartbeat.
Probably her own.
And she couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened.
Someone had given
— her first name
— her room number
— and was waiting for her in the lobby.
No one knew they were staying here.
No one knew they’d been assigned a VIP suite.
No one knew they’d fought off zombies earlier today.
… no one except the mayor.
So she hoped. A little stupidly. A little desperately.
Please… let it be the mayor.
Better a cold, arrogant, manipulative mayor than Aiden.
Better a politician with too much power than a man with an obsession.
Her throat tightened.
Not Aiden. Not Aiden. Not Aiden. Not Aiden.
She walked down the hallway and reached the elevator.
The golden doors slid open with a soft, velvet-like sigh.
She stepped inside.
The cabin was wide, spotless.
Covered entirely in mirrors, as if to remind every guest:
“Here’s your reflection. Here’s the image you project. Make sure you look presentable.”
Jesse winced the moment she saw herself.
Her top — which she had tucked neatly into her jeans before jumping on the bed with Axel and Olivia — had untucked again, riding up just enough to expose part of her stomach.
Her braids were slightly crooked, two of them having escaped toward the back.
A piece of pillow fluff was stuck to one of them.
Her flared jeans sat lower than usual.
And her sneakers…
Yeah. Her sneakers were absolutely not made for going down to confront a stranger in a luxury hotel lobby.
She let out a nervous, almost silent laugh.
“Great… I look like I crawled out from under a bed.”
She tried fixing her braids with her fingers.
They refused.
She tried smoothing her top.
It fell back into place… then instantly wrinkled again when she moved.
“Okay… that’ll do.”
She was lying to herself.
She inhaled deeply.
And silently repeated the mantra in her head:
Not Aiden. Not Aiden. Not Aiden. Not Aiden.
Her stomach tightened even harder.
Because a part of her knew:
If it had been the mayor… the receptionist would have said so.
And the way he answered…
The way he said “surprise”…
That tone — almost mocking…
None of it was a good sign.
The elevator kept descending.
The glowing numbers ticked down:
10…
9…
8…
Jesse suddenly realized she was squeezing something. Hard. Her fist was trembling.
She looked down.
The dagger had appeared in her hand.
She could’ve summoned the sword, but in terms of strategy and weight…
the dagger was the better choice.
A blue light — bright, almost liquid — slid along the blade before stabilizing into its final shape.
She had summoned it without even noticing.
Her heart was pounding too fast.
She whispered:
“Not Aiden… please, not him…”
She closed her eyes for one second.
Opened them again.
Then slid the dagger back into her inventory with a sharp, practiced gesture.
The elevator reached the ground floor with a crisp ding.
The doors opened.
The main lobby wasn’t visible yet: a glass wall separated the VIP area from the rest of the hall.
She needed to walk around the private spa area and past the elevators to reach the opening.
Jesse moved forward.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Her breathing shortened.
She pressed her back against the wall, using the reflection in the glass to discreetly inspect the hall from the corner.
Her arm slipped against the cold marble.
Her shoulder shivered.
Her hand instinctively hovered near her inventory again.
Near the dagger.
The familiar warmth of the handle pulsed against her palm, a faint blue shimmer sliding between her fingers before she forced herself to regain control — lowering her guard, keeping the weapon invisible but ready.
She kept moving forward, slowly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
The moment she rounded the wall, she spotted the receptionist—the same one who had answered earlier.
He practically jumped when he saw her, his hand flying to his chest as if she’d just pointed a crossbow at him.
“Put that weapon away, miss.”
His voice cracked slightly, a mix of fear and offended dignity. Caught off guard, Jesse made the dagger disappear without arguing, a quick motion that sent a faint blue flicker around her hand.
The receptionist exhaled like someone who had narrowly escaped disaster.
“Thank you. The person waiting for you is… just outside. Leaning on her car.”
He pointed toward the glass doors at the entrance.
Jesse followed his gesture.
She squinted.
The receptionist continued—because of course he couldn’t stop himself from talking:
“I’m sorry to ask but… does your friend usually speak to people?”
Jesse froze.
Blank.
She didn’t know whether to answer yes, no, laugh, or shrug.
He shook his head.
“Because she didn’t seem very talkative. And after I saw her, she just walked out. As if the lobby didn’t exist.”
He huffed, annoyed:
“Anyway. Tell her she could be… friendlier. That would be appreciated.”
Jesse rolled her eyes so hard she nearly felt her eyelids crack.
She didn’t need to hear anything more.
She headed toward the exit.
RayVista’s night swallowed her instantly:
orange and blue neon lights, shifting shadows, the steady noise of cars below, the cool breeze sweeping across the immaculate sidewalks.
And there, right in front of the hotel entrance…
She saw her.
Petra.
Leaning against a sleek, modern car with metallic orange undertones—
a model even Conderia didn’t have yet.
A smooth, solid but elegant body;
LED headlights shaped like lightning bolts;
a glass roof and rims you only saw in the wealthiest districts.
The kind of vehicle you would never, ever associate with Petra.
Literally never.
She wore a denim jacket Jesse recognized instantly: the one she’d jokingly recommended ages ago… that Petra had ended up adopting anyway.
Under it, a dark hoodie, her usual shorts, solid boots.
Her legs were covered in tights and long thigh-high socks.
Her turquoise bandana was tied around her ginger hair, which the orange street lights made look almost fiery.
She was staring at a giant advertisement screen, her face lost in some strange expression.
Not sad.
Not angry.
Not nostalgic either.
Just… elsewhere.
There was something in the way she flicked the end of her cigarette, in how the smoke rose and disappeared, that made it seem like even she didn’t quite know why she’d come.
Jesse stepped closer.
Her heart jumped— in a way she didn’t want to analyze.
She would’ve liked to pretend it was just surprise.
But Petra, standing under the city lights with that mix of exhaustion, confidence, and casual charm, had always done that to her.
Petra crushed the cigarette in the metal ashtray beside the door, then tossed it in the bin.
She straightened a little when she noticed Jesse walking toward her.
“Hey.”
Not sugary.
Not overly warm.
Just that quiet softness—half breathless, half amused—that only Petra had.
A tired but steady tone, with that tiny gleam of irony in her eyes, the kind that meant she already had something in mind.
Jesse stopped in front of her, just a few steps away.
The orange car reflected her face on its tinted windows.
The sound of the city pulsed behind them.
The evening breeze lifted their hair slightly.
“What are you doing here, Petra?”
The question slipped off Jesse’s lips in a faint breath—surprise mixed with exhaustion.
But Petra didn’t answer right away.
Her eyes stayed hooked on something above them, on that massive advertisement Jesse hadn’t noticed yet.
So Jesse looked up.
A giant screen was projecting a scene almost too perfect:
a travel van, open toward the horizon, cruising along a golden road.
Inside, two women—
one lying down, reading, hair blowing in the wind with a peaceful smile;
the other driving, happy, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the armrest, turned toward her friend.
A smooth voice drifted from the boulevard speakers:
“Dreaming of going on an expedition with the person you love most? Treat yourself to a week of adventure… or a whole month. Unplug. Breathe. Live.”
Jesse squinted—half amused, half embarrassed.
The colors were warm, the scene comforting.
She immediately pictured Olivia, Axel, and Reuben all crammed into a van, laughing and bickering.
It would’ve been hilarious. Chaotic. Sweet.
She didn’t notice that Petra was watching the ad with a very different intensity.
A faint flush rose along Petra’s cheeks—almost invisible under RayVista’s orange glow.
She quickly looked away, as if caught doing something she hadn’t meant to.
“Uh, sorry. I was just… looking at that.”
She said it too quickly, too quietly, and Jesse caught just enough to raise an intrigued eyebrow. Petra inhaled, steadied herself, then jerked her chin toward the car behind her.
“I knew you were here. I saw you three walk into a hotel. I was already in the city.”
Jesse blinked.
“Already in the city? You left us right before we departed… How did you get here before us?”
A tiny stutter.
Extremely rare for Petra.
“Uh… I… used Ender Pearls.”
Jesse’s eyes widened.
“Petra, that’s NOT economical. Those pearls are rare, like super rare.”
Petra raised a brow, proud, almost offended.
“Nothing’s ever rare for me.”
Jesse let out a small laugh.
“Okay, okay. I’ll give you that one.”
Her gaze slid to the car.
A beast of a vehicle.
Metallic orange bodywork, dark leather interior she could glimpse through the tinted windows.
The kind of car you didn’t just “get” out of nowhere.
“Wait—Petra… this car. It’s yours?”
Petra let out a dry snort, the kind that meant I’m going to pretend your joke wasn’t terrible.
“No, uh… haha. Very funny. No.
The mayor asked me to come and pick it up. A special order. A very special one. I came here just for that.”
Jesse frowned.
“Came how? You didn’t bring your own car…”
“On foot.”
Silence.
Petra blinked. She realized what she’d just said. She corrected herself—too late:
“I mean… On foot to the Nether portal! Then I used some pearls. Then I ran. I just—whatever. I got here fast.”
Jesse let out a quiet, tired, fond laugh.
“I can see that. You’re really… determined.”
Petra looked like she wanted to fire back something sharp, but Jesse—still amused—gestured toward the billboard:
“Didn’t know you were into romantic stuff. Vans, sunsets, road trips… that’s not really your thing, is it?”
Petra stiffened.
Her hands slipped into her jacket pockets.
The red returned to her cheeks.
“I like adventure. I like adrenaline. And yeah, I like violence. But I never said I didn’t like softness.”
Jesse blinked, surprised, before smiling:
“Fair enough. When you put it like that… you’ve got a point. Two, actually.”
Petra breathed out, though her gaze stayed on Jesse just long enough for something unspoken to brush past her expression. She quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t.
“And you? Don’t tell me you’ve never dreamed of something like that.”
Jesse laughed, genuinely:
“Me? No. I’ve never really thought about it.
I mean… maybe one day with Axel and Olivia. That’d be hilarious, right? The three of us in there arguing every two seconds, and Reuben stealing food…”
The temperature dropped.
So subtly it was like a string being pulled too fast.
Petra tightened her grip on her sleeve.
Just a little.
Not enough for Jesse to notice.
But enough for anyone who really knew Petra to read something there.
A tension. A retreat.
Petra cut the thread of the conversation:
“Look at the car instead. That… that’s actually impressive. What do you think?”
Jesse gladly followed the change of subject, ignoring the shadow she’d caught in Petra’s eyes.
“It’s gorgeous. I don’t know anything about cars, but this one… wow.”
Petra let out a more genuine laugh this time.
“Yeah. It’s classy. And expensive. Way too expensive for the mayor to let me drive it for more than three minutes.”
A small pause.
Petra looked at her, softer.
“You know… you look a bit out of it, Jesse. Kind of… tense. You sure you’re okay?”
Jesse lowered her gaze for a moment.
“I’m just… tired. And it feels like everything’s moving too fast. Like I’m not moving enough. Or moving too much. I don’t know. My head’s full. Sorry if I’m asking too many questions.”
Petra watched her longer this time.
Something real in her eyes.
Concern—almost tenderness.
“It’s normal. With everything you’ve been through, you probably never stop.
But… be careful, okay? RayVista isn’t Condéria. And it’s definitely not Arvenne. Everything moves too fast here.”
Jesse nodded.
Petra went on, even quieter:
“And… just so you know.
If I came here… it’s not only for the car.”
She said it almost by accident, clumsy, as if the words slipped further than she intended.
She caught herself immediately:
“I mean… you’re a familiar face. In a city that’s too big. It’s… comforting. That’s all.”
And Jesse, who hadn’t noticed what was actually burning behind Petra’s eyes, simply gave her a sincere smile.
“I’m really glad you stopped by. Honestly.”
Petra looked away, embarrassed.
The neon light slid across her bandana.
Her voice dropped, soft, almost shy:
“Yeah… me too.”
Her breath seemed to get lost somewhere in the glow of the entrance.
And Jesse—caught off guard for a second by that unexpected gentleness—quickly found her footing again.
She straightened up, inhaled, and her mind snapped back to Olivia, Axel, Reuben…
To the VIP suite, the bed that nearly broke under their weight, the doorbell that almost gave her a heart attack.
“Petra… it was really nice seeing you.
Really.”
She cleared her throat, searching for her words.
“But I should head back up. Olivia’s gonna worry. Axel too—well, he’s probably already out cold—but Reuben, yeah. I… I should let them know it was nothing. Just you. A false alarm.”
She took a small step back, the kind of step that meant I should go.
Petra blinked, perfectly neutral on the surface…
except for the faint, barely-there twitch in her right hand, the one that tightened around the pocket of her jacket.
Jesse went on:
“I’m exhausted too. I really need to breathe a little.”
She gave a shy smile.
“But if you want… tomorrow I can make some time. We could hang out. Just you and me.”
She didn’t get the chance to say anything else.
“Wait.”
Petra’s voice cut through the air like a perfectly taut wire.
Jesse froze.
Petra took a step toward her—not brusque, just steady enough to keep Jesse from slipping away too quickly.
And she nodded toward the city behind them: the still-lit streets, the almost-empty avenues, the warm night breeze making the neon reflections dance.
“Jesse… look.”
Petra gestured toward the street.
“The weather’s nice. There are barely any cars left. And…”
She placed a gentle hand against the side of the car.
“We could just take a drive. Not long. Just a ride.
The wind, the lights, some music. It’d be good for you.”
Jesse opened her mouth, but Petra kept going, softer this time:
“And you seem… tense. Tired. You deserve a break, at least a little one.
You’re always trying to protect everyone.
Always trying to keep everyone calm.
But right now… you could just let yourself breathe. Just for tonight.”
Jesse didn’t move.
The engine wasn’t even running, yet she could almost hear a hum in her head.
A ride.
With Petra.
Wind in her hair.
A huge, glowing city around them.
Music thrumming through the seats.
Nothing to do but watch the lights rush by.
It was tempting.
Dangerously tempting.
But in the back of her mind, Olivia’s voice echoed:
“Do people let you make your own choices?
Do they listen to you?
Do they let you say no?”
And right before that, Petra’s breath, close to her:
“I wanted to see you.”
Two options opened in front of her, clean and brutal:
1 — Go back to her friends.
Say: “I’m sorry, I need to go back to Olivia, Axel and Reuben. They need me. And I need them too.”
Face the doubts. The responsibility.
Refuse to let herself get pulled around again — even by someone she cared about deeply.
Make her own decision.
Stand her ground.
2 — Get in the car.
Let Petra take her into the night.
Forget the exhaustion, the fear, the weight on her shoulders.
Just for a moment.
Just breathe.
Let herself feel something other than stress.
Do something for herself, for once.
She didn’t know what to say.
Petra waited — not impatient, but attentive.
Almost fragile behind all her bravado.
Like Jesse’s choice would decide something important. Too important.
Jesse swallowed.
Her heartbeat sounded like she was about to step into a fight.
And two thoughts kept clashing in her head:
“I need to go back… they’re waiting for me.”
“Just one ride. Just one. It would feel good.”
For the first time, she was facing a choice that didn’t depend on a mayor, a monster, an enemy, a stalker — or a mission.
A choice that depended on what kind of Jesse she wanted to be tonight.