The sirens wailed somewhere behind him, their echo twisting through the alleys like a snake chasing prey.
Alain ran.
The cold gnawed through his soaked clothes, mixing with the sting of half-healed burns and scars crawling up his arm.
He didn't know where his legs were taking him; adrenaline had seized control.
The narrow streets of Ede twisted like veins through the city's underbelly, each turn swallowing the light a little more.
Sirens dipped, then rose again. Closer.
A side path appeared, and he slipped into it, chest heaving. Ether still buzzed faintly beneath his skin, the gold long gone, but every time he blinked he'd remembered their outline vividly.
A flash of blue light rippled down the street ahead—a patrol drone, sweeping for heat signatures. He pressed himself against the wall, hidden behind the broken ribs of a pipe. The machine's light passed through the fog, slow and deliberate.
He waited until it moved on before slipping into the next alley.
The city smelled of oil and smoke, the air thick enough to chew. Ede had always been like this. The district used to be filled with bunkers and emergency facilities back when Imperial Asgraen used to be at war.
Now the government had built Ede's factories and storage facilities right on top of the old infrastructure. But the people didn't mind. They moved in anyway, claiming that residual heat of some heat vents from said facilities kept them warm.
Alain turned the corner, relief instantly spread across his face. A symbol that he recognized was carved hastily near the door of a small bunker—flames covered by an arch, symbolizing the Hearth, his orphanage.
Reaching for the handle, he froze.
The metal was warm. Someone had been here, just moments ago.
A quick pattern—two taps, then one—echoed against the door in the rhythm they used back at the Hearth. A secret pattern, made up years ago to keep the little ones from wandering into strangers' homes.
For a moment, nothing happened. Only the rain, steady and cold, dripping down his sleeve.
Then, a faint scrape came from the other side.
"...Who's there?"
The voice was quiet, muffled, but familiar enough to pull the air out of his lungs.
Barely above a whisper, he answered. "Lia, it's me."
A pause. Then, the lock clicked.
The door cracked open, spilling a faint orange light onto the wet ground.
Lia stood in the doorway, pale hair braided messily, eyes wide and bright even in the gloom. She looked smaller than he remembered, before the guards showed up anyway.
"Alain…" Her voice trembled, somewhere between relief and disbelief.
"You're— You're alive."
Before he could answer, she stumbled forward and threw herself into him. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. Her fists beat weakly against his chest as she pressed her face into his shoulder, sobbing between each strike.
"Don't you ever do that again!" she cried. "Do you hear me? Don't you ever—"
The words broke apart, swallowed by her own shaking breaths. She clung tighter, as if she could keep him from disappearing by force alone.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The rain hissed behind them, distant now, almost gentle.
Alain stood still, the warmth of her tears seeping through his collar. He wanted to speak, to apologize, but the words felt too small.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were rimmed red, her braid coming undone around her face. She looked up at him with that same helpless anger she always carried when she was scared.
"What did you do?" she whispered.
He didn't know how to answer. "I… lost control."
Her lips parted as if to argue, then pressed shut. She grabbed his wrist instead, tugging him inside.
"You made a promise—we both did!" she said, her voice breaking. "To never use our second Rune. What even happened?"
"I didn't mean to," he said. "It just—happened."
Lia let out a trembling breath. "It doesn't just happen, Alain." Her tone softened halfway through his name, as if she'd already regretted saying it.
"I didn't use it," he said quietly. "At least… I don't think I did."
"That's worse."
She turned from him, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. The bunker's weak light caught on her hair as she spoke again, softer this time.
"I told the others to scatter. We were supposed to meet at the eastern station after nightfall. If anyone followed me here—"
"They didn't," he said quickly. "No one saw me come in."
Her silence said she didn't believe him.
He sat down on the cold floor, back against the concrete wall.
"I burned the street," he said finally. "Didn't mean to, but… there were officers. The Rune—it moved on its own. It felt like it wanted out."
Lia closed her eyes. "It's been years since the Hearth. I thought maybe after we first got it, it would…you know, go quiet."
He almost laughed at that, but the sound caught in his throat. "It never does."
For a long moment, neither spoke
She sat beside him, pulling her knees close. "We should leave Ede," she said eventually. "Tonight, if we can. I heard them over intercom—an Aesir Operative's coming here soon."
"Where would we go?"
"East," she said, almost automatically. "There are still trains running to Finn. The tickets won't matter if we hide in the freight cars."
He looked at her, tired but searching. "You've been planning this."
"I had to," she whispered. "After you didn't come back… I thought—" She stopped herself, biting her lip hard enough to leave a mark.
Alain sighed, then slowly placed his hand on her head.
"Even if we make it out," he said, "you know what happens when they find out we both carry two Runes. We won't make it far before someone reports us."
"Then we'll just have to not get caught," she said. There was no fear in her voice now, only resolve.
He turned toward her. For a moment, she almost looked like she used to—light in her eyes, a smirk half-formed at the edge of exhaustion.
"Still the same moron," he murmured.
"Still the same idiot," she replied.
She reached out, brushing his burned hand before pulling away. The faint glow of the Rune bled through the cloth again, golden and trembling. Her expression faltered.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Only when I think about it."
"Then don't."
He tried to smile. "You know that doesn't work."
"I know," she said. "But you're here. That's enough for now."
Her head rested on his shoulder, clearly exhausted from running, planning and doing all the things a seventeen year-old shouldn't even have to worry about.
The silence didn't last long.
Alain raised his head. The lamp flame flickered, stretching shadows across the walls.
Lia stirred beside him. "What is it?"
He didn't answer. He already knew the sound. Boots.
The pursuit had closed in quick and deliberate. The bunker wasn't hidden as well as she'd hoped.
"Lia," he said, standing. "We have to go."
She blinked, still half-asleep, then heard it too. The second she did, she was on her feet, already packing the few things they had—a coat, a knife, the old ether lamp.
He helped her kill the flame and pull the latch. The hinges screamed softly as they opened the door to a storm that hadn't stopped since last night.
The rain had turned to mist, a pale curtain hanging over the narrow street.
Alain stepped out first, eyes scanning the corners. The glow of searchlights bled through the fog like ghosts.
They moved quickly, keeping low, their boots splashing through shallow puddles. Lia led the way through the maze of rusted pipes and collapsed walls.
Then—
"Stop right there!"
The shout cut through the storm like a blade.
Light burst across the street as rifles snapped toward them. Silhouettes emerged through the haze: a half-dozen officers in white armor, visors gleaming blue.
Lia froze. Alain grabbed her arm, pulled her behind a broken vent stack as a flash bolt scorched the concrete beside them.
"They're already here?" Lia hissed.
"Must've followed the heat trail."
Another blast tore through the wall inches from her head. The shockwave filled the air with dust and the smell of ozone.
"Run!" Alain shouted.
They bolted.
Down a side alley, past shattered crates and leaking pipes. The officers' shouts echoed after them.
"Target confirmed! Both Rune Bearers!"
Alain's lungs burned. His left hand pulsed with heat.
"Alain," Lia gasped, "Don't—"
With ether channeling to his fingers, he drew hastily in the air the only spell he had learned from Heinrick for self-defense.
ᚱ— Raido (Push)
A small explosion of flame erupted, like flames given mass, the spell managed to knock over a few of the pursuing guards. But there were too many.
A soft click of his tongue followed. "Tsk."
They found themselves at a dead end—an old drainage shaft, long collapsed and filled with rainwater.
Lia cursed under her breath. "No way out."
Alain turned. The light of the search team was already spilling into the alley behind them.
Lia pressed herself against the wall, eyes darting to him. "We can't fight them. If you use it again—"
One of the officers stepped into view, weapon raised. "On your knees! Hands where we can see them!"
Lia's hand found his. "Don't."
He met her gaze. She was shaking, eyes wide, soaked and terrified — but she still held on.
"I can't let them take you," he said.
"You can't—!"
The shot fired.
Alain moved without thought. The world slowed, the rain itself seemed to pause, every droplet suspended. The next instant, light erupted outward—gold and blinding.
Lia screamed his name, reaching for him, but her Rune flared too. Blue lines spiraled down her arm like veins of frost.
Their lights collided. Gold and blue crashed together, air trembling between them.
From the space between them, lines of light unfurled. They shaped into a half-open doorway, light spilling through like a glow caught between worlds.
Lia's fingers tightened around his. "It's giving us a choice."
He knew what this was. What every Rune Bearer fears and reveres.
A Revelation.
Alain looked at her: the fear, the defiance, the same fire that had carried them this far.
"If we stay, we die," she said.
A single nod sealed it. "Together."
They stepped through the light. The door sealed behind them, erasing the storm, the sirens, and the world.