The metallic tang of spent energy still hung heavy in the air, a phantom aftermath of the swift, brutal skirmish. Pulse's hand instinctively brushed the hilt of his sword, a phantom tremor running through his fingers, a silent acknowledgment of the three bodies that lay still in the dusty alley behind them. He didn't look back. There was no need. The silence was eloquent enough.
Revera, the girl they had just rescued from an unknown fate, huddled closer to Crystara, her movements skittish. Her elegant, understated attire, now smudged with dust, spoke of a life far removed from the grit and grime of their current reality.
"What was your name again?" Pulse asked, his voice a low rumble, cutting through the tense quiet. He kept his gaze on the street ahead, scanning for any lingering shadows, any sign of observers. His visor obscured his eyes, but his posture radiated an intense, coiled readiness.
The girl flinched, then seemed to remember herself. "Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Revera." Her voice was soft, fragile, a stark contrast to the hardened warriors beside her.
Pulse turned slightly, directing his gaze, still hidden, towards her. "Revera," he repeated, testing the name. "Why did someone from your bureau want you, what do they want you to do?" The question was blunt, devoid of preamble.
Revera hugged herself, her gaze flickering to Crystara, as if seeking reassurance. Crystara, for her part, simply offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, her own crystal-hardened form a silent bastion of protection. Pulse noticed the easy grace of Crystara's movements, the way her bootie shorts hugged taut muscle, the simple T-shirt doing little to conceal the honed physique beneath. Her choker, a minimalist adornment, drew the eye to the slender column of her throat, a stark, almost provocative vulnerability in this harsh world.
"Because of my power," Revera finally confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I have the ability to make anything I touch revert back to its pristine state or form. When I used it on objects, it didn't really cost me much, except for being mentally exhausted." She paused, a shiver running through her. "But when I use it on a human or living being, they will revert to their younger self. In turn, I will rapidly go older... Basically," she concluded, her eyes wide with fear, "some higher-ups from my bureau wanted me to use my powers on them."
Pulse felt a cold knot tighten in his gut. He had read many Awakened powers, some wondrous, some terrifying, but this… this was a power ripe for exploitation, a curse disguised as a miracle. The image of some decrepit, power-hungry bureaucrat, their skin like parchment, their ambition boundless, using Revera as a fountain of youth, flashed repugnantly through his mind. The sacrifice implied was not just her youth, but her very life essence, her future. It was a violation far more insidious than a mere physical assault.
"So they basically wanted you to sacrifice yourself so they could become younger again?" Pulse articulated the brutal truth, his voice flat.
Revera nodded, a tear tracing a path down her dust-smudged cheek. "Yeah. And there's actually a lot of people I know who want me to use my power on them... Most of the time it's just a joke, but I'm pretty sure none of them were this desperate enough to hire someone to kidnap me... Except maybe... for one of the higher ups from my bureau who recently became very aggressive in his approach." The last words were spoken with a desperate plea mixed with lingering shock.
Crystara, ever practical, crossed her arms, the movement highlighting the flexible strength of her torso. "Well, without evidence, we could do nothing in the official channels. It would just be your word against theirs."
"I couldn't go back," Revera pleaded, her voice trembling. "Please, they'll get to me and maybe even harm my family." Her desperation was raw, palpable. For all the strange wonders of the Awakened world, the base human cruelties remained unchanged, perhaps even amplified by the gifts they possessed.
Pulse looked at Crystara, a silent query passing between them. "Any ideas how we'll deal with this?" Her sharp mind often found solutions where others saw only dead ends.
Crystara pulled out a sleek, almost invisible device from a pocket hidden in her bootie shorts, a piece of tech far more advanced than her 'carefree' attire suggested. With a few deft movements, she initiated a call. "I'll contact Celestial Muse."
Pulse raised an eyebrow, a rare, almost imperceptible flicker of surprise. "You could just call Celestial Muse?" The name itself carried weight, power, and an almost mythical aura within the Awakened community. He knew the legends, the whispers of her beauty, her prowess, her unyielding authority.
Crystara snorted, a hint of her usual irreverence returning. "We're somewhat buddies. I became friends with her when I went to a grandeur party as a promising Awakened at that time."
"You're just about twenty-five years old, right?" Pulse probed, his mind calculating.
Crystara paused, a small, mischievous smirk playing on her lips. "I'm twenty years old."
Pulse blinked under his visor. "You're just one year older than me, huh." A wry chuckle escaped him. He'd mentally placed her years older, given her street-hardened demeanor.
"Yeah. Respect your elders, bitch," Crystara shot back, her smirk widening. The familiar banter was a welcome relief, a brief return to a semblance of normalcy in the chaos.
The call connected. A projection shimmered into existence, the image of Celestial Muse, appearing before them. Her presence alone seemed to electrify the air, even through the holographic projection. She was everything the rumors described, confident, alluring, her 'sexy awakened costume' a testament to her audacious style. It was a strategic marvel of tactical armor and form-fitting fabric, designed to emphasize every curve, every line of her formidable physique, leaving just enough to the imagination to be captivating, yet clearly built for lethal combat. Her long, dark hair, typically unbound, was pulled back in a severe, elegant style, highlighting her sharp, intelligent features.
"It's been a while, Crystara. How are you doing?" Muse's voice was smooth, resonant, carrying an inherent authority tempered with a hint of warmth for her friend.
"I'm doing great, Muse, but right now there's a problem," Crystara replied, her tone instantly becoming serious. "It's the fucking Revenant Authority again. Basically, one of the higher-ups wanted to sacrifice one of their Awakened members so they could become young again." She concisely laid out Revera's predicament, omitting none of the sordid details.
The warmth in Muse's eyes hardened, replaced by a cold, exacting focus. "Where are you right now?" she asked, her voice now sharp as polished steel.
"We're in Kharavel, and we're about to go back to base. We just have to wait for about an hour for the extraction ship," Crystara explained.
"Okay, I'll meet you both at the base," Muse instructed, already pivoting, her mind clearly racing through plans and contingencies.
"What should we do with the three men from the revenant authority that we just killed?" Crystara asked, glancing back towards the alley, though the bodies were out of sight.
Celestial Muse's response was immediate and chilling. "Just leave them. Whoever ordered the three men must be observing their location. Leave the area, immediately." Her tone was absolute, leaving no room for argument.
"Great, thanks, Muse." Crystara then hung up, the holographic projection flickering out of existence.
Pulse finally spoke, a faint note of amusement in his tone. "You forgot to mention me."
Crystara rolled her eyes, a familiar exasperation. "Oh… Right. Anyways, you should be alright now, Revera. Even if the main boss of the Revenant Authority came after you, Celestial Muse would not back down. She has always been like that." Her words were meant to reassure, but the underlying threat to Revera and her family was still a grim shadow. The depths of depravity of some of the powerful Awakened were truly boundless.
Revera offered a shaky but heartfelt smile. "Thanks a lot, Crystara and Pulse."
An hour later, as promised, the sleek, unmarked Vanguard Bureau transport ship descended from the twilight sky, its thrusters kicking up swirls of dust. Pulse, Crystara, and Revera wasted no time in boarding, the ramp retracting with a soft hiss as the ship ascended, leaving the grim alleyway of Kharavel behind.
Inside the Vanguard Bureau's central complex, a vast, humming labyrinth of advanced technology and Awakened activity, Celestial Muse had already stepped through a shimmering portal, her arrival drawing a ripple of hushed whispers and awed glances from the surrounding Awakened and staff. Her presence was undeniable, a supernova of beauty and power. The tactical armor, sleek and form-fitting, seemed to accentuate every curve, every ripple of muscle, a testament to her disciplined physique. Her posture was regal, effortlessly commanding every eye in the massive atrium. She stood like a goddess, a beacon of strength and allure, yet with an underlying loneliness that only a truly observant eye might catch.
While she waited for the ship to arrive, a man, impeccably dressed in a suit that seemed to blend with the shadows, approached her with an oily smile. His eyes, though, held a predatory glint that Pulse would have recognized instantly.
"It's a pleasure to actually see and meet the Celestial Muse herself," the man purred, his voice smooth, practiced, laced with a subtle hint of entitlement. He held out a hand, more as a gesture of ownership than greeting.
Celestial Muse didn't even glance at his outstretched hand. Her gaze was direct, unwavering, and utterly arctic. "Back off," she stated, her voice devoid of any warmth, any allure. "I'm not interested in what you're about to offer. I would rather die than have anything to do with the Riftwatch Bureau or the Revenant Authority." The unspoken message was clear: she knew exactly who he was, and what he represented. The casual dismissal, the sheer, undeniable power behind her words, was a brutal, public emasculation.
The man's smile tightened, a flicker of cold anger in his eyes. He slowly retracted his hand, his pride clearly stung. Then, with a subtle, almost imperceptible shift, his form seemed to blur, a trick of light or perhaps a minor Awakened ability. He then turned around, his retreat a calculated move, not a defeat. As he walked away, he pulled out a discreet device, raising it to his ear. The unspoken implication of the call hung heavy in the air: they were watching, always watching.
A few minutes later, the transport ship materialized in the docking bay, its ramp descending with a sigh of hydraulics. Crystara, Pulse, and Revera stepped out onto the polished floor. Seeing Muse, Crystara immediately steered Revera towards her.
Celestial Muse's cool demeanor softened slightly when she saw Crystara, but then her gaze landed on Pulse, a flicker of genuine surprise in her eyes. "I didn't expect our very new recruit to be with Crystara." Her lips curved into a slight, amused smile.
Pulse chuckled, a dry sound that barely broke the silence. "I just met her by complete chance, ma'am." He offered a small, deferential nod, though his hidden eyes likely held a glimmer of his usual sarcasm.
"So, what do we do now?" Crystara asked, getting straight to business.
Muse's expression grew serious again. "I already contacted some officials. There will be some investigation, but for now, I need you two to protect Revera and her family for the time being." Her gaze shifted to Revera, a reassuring quality entering her voice. "Maybe in about three to five days, your family will have lived in the most protected Vanguard Bureau apartment. They will not only be safe but also live comfortably." The promise of security, of an escape from the predatory clutches of the Revenant Authority, was a lifeline.
Then, Muse locked eyes with both Crystara and Pulse, her authority unmistakable. "And you two will guard her and her family." It wasn't a request; it was an order.
"Got it," Crystara affirmed, ever ready for a fight, her crystal body humming with barely contained energy.
"Yes, ma'am," Pulse said, the formality a conscious choice. There was something about Muse, something about her sheer force of will combined with her undeniable allure, that demanded a certain respect even from a cynical drifter like him.
Celestial Muse smiled then, a genuine, radiant smile directed at Pulse. It was a flash of warmth that momentarily melted the ice around her, a glimpse of the lonely woman beneath the powerful Awakened. It lingered on him for a beat too long, a silent acknowledgment perhaps of the darkness she sensed within him, or the potential she recognized. As she turned to discuss the specifics with Crystara, Pulse felt a strange flicker within himself.