The boy stood in the alley, flames still flickering on his fingertips as he looked down at what remained of the Ravina. The fire had consumed her completely or so he'd thought. Smoke rose from the charred ground where she'd been standing, the acrid smell of burnt flesh hanging heavy in the air.
He lowered his hands slowly, the flames extinguishing with a thought. "You shouldn't have come here trying to be cool," he muttered to himself, though there was no one left to hear it. The words came out automatically, like dialogue from a script he'd rehearsed too many times.
His gaze shifted to the two drug dealer corpses or what remained of them. One was barely recognizable as human, just a blackened skeleton with bits of melted flesh still clinging to the bones. The other was nothing but ash and a carbon shadow on the alley floor, like a twisted parody of those victims from Pompeii he'd seen in history books.
"What should I do now?" he wondered aloud, speaking to the empty alley. He hadn't planned beyond killing them. He never did. The fire came so easily, burned so hot, ended things so quickly that he rarely had time to think about consequences or next steps.
The money from the drug deal lay scattered across the ground some bills had caught fire and turned to ash, but most of the briefcase's contents had survived, protected by the metal casing. Several thousand Eisentaler, probably. Enough to live on for months if he was careful.
He was about to reach for the briefcase when he heard it.
Laughter.
Not nervous laughter or the hysterical laughter of someone in shock. This was genuine amusement, the kind of laugh someone made when they'd just witnessed something genuinely entertaining.
The boy froze for just a second not from fear exactly, but from the sheer impossibility of what he was hearing. He'd just burned that woman alive. Watched her skin blister and blacken, watched the flames consume her from the inside out, watched her collapse into a burning heap.
No one survived his fire. No one.
But that laugh...
He spun around, flames already igniting in his palms, ready to finish whatever had somehow survived.
And there she stood.
Ravina. Whole. Unburned. Perfectly intact as if the last few minutes hadn't happened at all. Her black suit showed no signs of damage, her bob-cut hair was styled exactly as before, and her skin was smooth and unblemished. She stood at the alley entrance with her arms crossed, a wide smirk on her face, looking at him with obvious delight.
"Well, well, well," she said, her voice carrying that same bright, performative quality she used in her videos. "I didn't expect you to be that strong! That fire of yours is really something special."
The boy stared at her, his mind racing through possibilities. Illusion? No, he'd felt her body burn, smelled the flesh cooking. Clone? Possible, but unlikely clones took time and resources. Twin? Even less likely. Which left only one explanation.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice flat but his eyes sharp, calculating. "Are you Blessed as well?"
Ravina's smirk widened into a full grin. "Well, I suppose you are as well, huh?" She gestured at his still-flaming hands. "The fire, the speed, the complete disregard for human life. Definitely Blessed behavior. Takes one to know one."
"Damn it," the boy muttered under his breath. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. Other Blessed individuals meant complications, meant attention, meant people who couldn't be dealt with as easily as normal humans.
He didn't waste time with more questions or threats. He simply attacked.
His body moved in a blur of speed, flames trailing from his hands as he closed the distance between them in less than a second. His burning fist aimed directly for her face, intending to end this quickly before she could react or use whatever power had let her survive the first time.
But she moved too.
Ravina dodged his punch with fluid grace, her body swaying to the side just enough to let his fist pass by her face, so close he could feel the heat of his own flames reflecting off her skin. Her smirk never wavered.
"Nice try!" she said cheerfully, as if they were sparring for fun rather than trying to kill each other. "But it won't work on me this time!"
Before the boy could recover his balance and launch another attack, Ravina's fist shot out and connected with his chest. The impact was devastating far more force than her frame should have been capable of generating. The boy felt his ribs crack, felt the air driven from his lungs, felt his body lift off the ground from the sheer power behind the blow.
He flew backward through the air, his trajectory carrying him directly into a stack of cargo containers at the far end of the alley. He crashed through the first container with a deafening metallic crunch, the impact tearing through the corrugated steel like it was paper.
The boy tumbled through the interior of the container, his body finally coming to rest among scattered contents. As he struggled to catch his breath and assess the damage
several broken ribs, definitely, maybe internal bleeding he realized what the container had been holding.
Money. Stacks and stacks of cash, bundled together with rubber bands. Eisentaler bills in various denominations, along with several other currencies American dollars, British pounds, even some old Euro notes. This wasn't just a drug deal. This was a major money laundering operation, and he'd just crashed into their storage facility.
Ravina appeared at the torn opening of the container, peering inside with obvious delight. "I think we just got rich!" she announced, her voice bright with excitement. She bent down and picked up one of the bundles, examining it with the air of someone who'd just won the lottery.
"We?" the boy gasped, still trying to breathe properly around his broken ribs. "What do you mean by 'we'?"
Ravina hopped into the container with surprising grace, landing lightly among the scattered money. She looked down at him with that same playful expression, her head tilted slightly to one side like a curious predator examining wounded prey.
"Oh, so you wanna kill me, huh?" she asked, her voice taking on a teasing, almost musical quality. "That's cute. Really, it is. But let me ask you something, kiddo what about your sanity level?"
The question caught him off guard. "What?"
"Your sanity level," Ravina repeated, crouching down to be at eye level with him. "How long do you think you can keep using those powers before you lose yourself completely? I've seen it before. Blessed individuals who burn too bright, use their abilities too much, too intensely. They start losing pieces of themselves. Memories fade, emotions flatten, until there's nothing left but the power and the hunger to use it."
The boy's jaw clenched. "You don't have to worry about that."
"Don't I?" Ravina's smile widened. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look like someone who's already halfway gone. Using fire that hot, that destructive that takes a toll, doesn't it? Every time you burn someone, you burn a little piece of yourself too."
The boy didn't respond verbally. Instead, he launched himself at her again, ignoring the pain from his broken ribs, letting rage and desperation fuel his movement. Flames erupted around his entire body this time, not just his hands. He became a living inferno, the temperature in the container skyrocketing, metal walls beginning to glow orange from the heat.
Ravina's eyes widened slightly not with fear, but with genuine interest. "Oh! Now that's impressive!"
The flames engulfed her completely. This time the fire was even hotter, even more intense than before. The boy poured everything he had into it, determined to burn her so thoroughly that whatever regeneration ability she possessed couldn't possibly bring her back.
Ravina's body ignited, skin blackening and cracking, hair becoming ash, clothes disintegrating. She burned exactly as she had before, consumed by flames that reached temperatures hot enough to melt steel.
The boy held the flames for several long seconds, making absolutely certain she was dead this time, that no amount of regeneration could save her from this level of destruction.
Finally, exhausted and breathing hard, he let the flames die down. Where Ravina had been standing was now just a pile of ash and some blackened bones. Surely, surely this time
The ash began to move.
The boy watched in horror and disbelief as the pile of ash and bone fragments started pulling back together, swirling and reforming like some kind of grotesque time-lapse video played in reverse. Flesh grew over bone, skin knitted itself back together, hair sprouted and lengthened, clothes materialized from nothing.
Within seconds, Ravina stood there again, completely whole, not even breathing hard. She brushed some residual ash off her shoulder and grinned at him.
"Well, that tickled!" she said brightly. "Wanna try again?"
Before the boy could even process what he'd just witnessed, Ravina moved with that same inhuman speed. Her fist drove into his lower abdomen with tremendous force, the impact so powerful that it literally tore his body in half at the waist.
The boy's upper torso separated from his lower body, blood spraying across the money-filled container, internal organs spilling out in a grotesque display. He collapsed forward, only his upper half remaining functional, his face contorted in agony as his brain struggled to process the catastrophic damage.
He screamed a sound of pure, animal agony that echoed through the alley and probably woke up half the neighborhood.
"You know," Ravina said conversationally, crouching down beside his dying body, "I can't actually die unless someone eats me completely. That's how we blessed works. As long as any part of me exists, I'll come back. It's actually pretty annoying—makes it really hard to end things when I get bored."
The boy's scream had faded to a weak, gurgling sound as blood filled his lungs. Through the haze of pain and approaching death, he managed to gasp out: "You... you have to eat me..."
Ravina tilted her head, considering this. "What's that? Speak up, I can't hear you when you're dying."
"Eat me..." the boy repeated, forcing the words out with his last remaining strength. "My ability... you can take it... if you eat me..."
Understanding dawned on Ravina's face, followed by consideration, then calculation. "Your fire ability? That is pretty cool. Very cinematic, great for content..." She paused, looking down at his bisected body thoughtfully. "But honestly? I already have regeneration, super strength, enhanced speed. Adding fire powers would just be redundant. Plus, cannibalism is messy and I'm wearing a nice suit."
She straightened up, dusting off her hands. "But you know what I do need? A cameraman. Someone to follow me around, record my adventures, help me create content. My robot is fine but it's so... robotic. No personality, no creativity. What I need is a person. A Blessed person who understands what it's like to have power."
The boy's eyes widened with confusion through his pain. "Cameraman?" The word came out barely audible.
"Yes! Cameraman!" Ravina said enthusiastically. "You know, someone who holds the camera, captures the action, helps with lighting and angles. It's actually a very important job in content creation. And since you can't die I assume you have regeneration too, otherwise you wouldn't have mentioned the eating thing you're perfect for it!"
She reached down and grabbed his upper torso, lifting it with surprising ease despite the weight and the blood still dripping everywhere. "But first, tell me your name. I can't just call you 'hey you' or 'fire boy' all the time. That's unprofessional."
The boy paused, his consciousness fading in and out as his body tried desperately to regenerate from catastrophic damage. Through the fog of approaching death or whatever passed for death when you were Blessed he managed to speak.
"For now... call me Ignis."
"Ignis?" Ravina tested the name, her expression brightening. "Ooh, I like it! Very mysterious, very dramatic. Latin for fire, right? Nice choice!" She hoisted his upper body over her shoulder like a sack of grain. "Ignis it is, then!"
She started walking out of the container, stepping carefully over the scattered money. "Well then, Ignis, we need to go now, shall we? I've got a place where you can regenerate in peace, and then we can discuss your new employment terms."
Ignis's consciousness was barely hanging on, but he managed one more question through gritted teeth. "I don't... have any other... option... do I?"
Ravina laughed, the sound echoing through the alley. "That's right! See, you're already learning how our relationship works. This is going to be a beautiful partnership, I can feel it!"
She paused to grab several bundles of money from the container, stuffing them into her jacket pockets. "Might as well take some of this. Finder's fee for discovering a criminal money laundering operation. We're practically heroes when you think about it!"
With Ignis's dying upper body slung over her shoulder and her pockets full of stolen money, Ravina walked out of the alley whistling a cheerful tune, her camera robot hovering along behind her.
**The Next Day - Ravina's Apartment**
Morning light streamed through the windows of Ravina's cluttered apartment. She sat at her desk, surrounded by stacks of money, counting bills with the focused attention of someone doing very important work. The bundles were organized by denomination and currency type, creating neat piles across every available surface.
Across the room, Ignis sat slumped in a chair, his body fully regenerated but his expression hollow and exhausted. He wore new clothes
simple black pants and a dark gray shirt that Ravina had provided from somewhere. His regeneration had been complete by sunrise, all his internal organs regrown, his body whole again. But the process had taken hours and been apparently excruciating based on the sweat soaking his clothes and his thousand-yard stare.
Ravina glanced up from her counting, her expression bright and curious. "Well, Ignis, where are you from?"
Ignis didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on nothing. "Why do you wanna know?"
"Well, can't I know?" Ravina replied, her tone playful. "We're partners now! Coworkers! It's normal to learn about each other, build rapport, create a positive working environment."
"I don't wanna say," Ignis said flatly.
Ravina shrugged, returning to her counting. "Damn, you have the power of fire but you're still so cold. That's some irony right there. I should use that in a video title 'My New Cameraman: Hot Powers, Cold Personality!' It's catchy!"
"I don't care," Ignis replied, his voice carrying no emotion whatsoever.
"Well, looks like the regeneration is complete but your personality still needs work," Ravina observed, making a note on a pad of paper beside her money stacks. "We'll have to fix that. Can't have a cameraman who's all doom and gloom. Bad for the channel's brand image."
Ignis finally turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed. "Do you have any problem with how I am?"
"Not at all!" Ravina said cheerfully, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm just making observations. Professional development, you know?" She finished counting a particular stack and added it to one of her piles. "Anyway, we need to go out and get some news. Check what's being reported about yesterday's incidents, see if we're wanted by police, that sort of thing."
"Why should I listen to you?" Ignis asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
Ravina's smile took on a slightly sharper edge. "Remember yesterday's thing?" She gestured vaguely at her own torso. "When I literally tore you in half? And you spent the entire night regenerating in agony? That thing?"
Ignis sighed heavily, the sound carrying defeat and resignation in equal measure. "Fine."
"Wonderful!" Ravina clapped her hands together. "See, this is already going so much better than I expected. You're learning!"
"But I have my own machine to deal with first," Ignis added.
Ravina blinked. "Machine? What kind of machine? Like a robot? A vehicle? Some kind of weapon?"
"No, I mean mission," Ignis corrected himself, his expression remaining flat.
Ravina burst into laughter, the sound filling the small apartment. "Oh my god, you're such a bad actor! You know that? 'Machine' instead of 'mission'? That's the worst cover-up I've ever heard!"
"We're not actors," Ignis pointed out.
"Well, you still are a bad actor!" Ravina continued laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. "But that's okay, we can work on that too. Acting, camera presence, delivery—it's all part of the content creation process."
"You don't have to teach me anything," Ignis said coldly.
Ravina finally composed herself, though her smile remained bright. "Well, enough talk for now. Let's go and get some food. I'm starving, and you probably need to eat too after all that regeneration. Bodies don't rebuild themselves from nothing you burned through a ton of calories last night."
"Whatever," Ignis muttered.
He stood up from the chair, his regenerated body whole but his movements stiff. As he walked toward the door, flames flickered unconsciously across his fingertips a side effect of the regeneration process, his powers unstable and harder to control.
The flames spread to his clothes briefly before he extinguished them with a thought. But the damage was done.
Ravina looked up from her money counting and froze. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the floor near Ignis's chair.
The stacks of money she'd left nearby at least 10,000 Eisentaler were now nothing but ash and charred paper fragments, completely destroyed by the residual fire from his regeneration.
"Damn you!!" Ravina shouted, her cheerful demeanor cracking for the first time. She rushed over to the ash pile, as if she could somehow salvage the burnt bills. "Why did you burn the money?!"
Ignis looked down at the destroyed cash with complete indifference. "I didn't do it on purpose. My fire leaked during regeneration."
"That was—that was—" Ravina sputtered, actually upset for once. "Do you know how much content I could have made with that money?! Equipment! Props! Studio space!"
"You still have more," Ignis pointed out, gesturing to the other stacks on her desk.
Ravina glared at him, then took a deep breath, forcing her smile back into place though it looked strained. "Fine. FINE. But from now on, you stay away from the money. Far away. No fire near currency, got it?"
"Whatever," Ignis replied.
As they headed toward the door, Ravina grabbed her camera robot and activated it. "Oh, and Ignis? From now on, you're my official cameraman. That means you hold this—" she handed him the floating robot's control interface, "—and you follow me everywhere. Every video, every stunt, every moment of potential content. Got it?"
Ignis looked at the control interface in his hands like it was a live snake. "This is a robot. It follows you automatically. Why do you need me to control it?"
"Creative input!" Ravina declared. "The robot just points and records. But you—you can suggest angles, anticipate action, add artistic flair. Trust me, this is going to make my content so much better."
"I literally tried to kill you yesterday," Ignis pointed out.
"And now we're business partners!" Ravina said brightly. "See how life works out? One day you're burning someone alive, the next day you're helping them create engaging digital content. It's beautiful, really."
Ignis said nothing, his expression suggesting he was questioning every decision that had led him to this moment.
The scene shifted.
**Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean - Astraea's Ship**
Eve stood at the railing of the ship, looking out over the endless expanse of water. The morning sun had risen hours ago, and they'd been sitting in roughly the same location for nearly a full day now. The ship bobbed gently with the waves but showed no signs of actually traveling anywhere.
She turned to where Carmilla sat in the ship's small cabin, surrounded by holographic displays and maps, smoking another cigarette while she worked through complex calculations.
"Well, can I ask a question?" Eve said, her voice carrying a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
Carmilla glanced up from her work. "What is it?"
"You said we would arrive in seven hours," Eve continued, stepping into the cabin. "But we've been staying in the same place for a full day now. What is the reason behind it?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, just genuinely puzzled, like a student asking a teacher to explain a confusing lesson.
Nearby, Angela was sleeping or appeared to be sleeping. She was curled up in one of the cabin's small bunks, her eyes closed, her breathing steady and even. There was no particular reason for her to be tired her synthetic body didn't experience physical fatigue the way biological bodies did but she'd been sleeping more and more lately, as if unconsciousness offered escape from thoughts she didn't want to face.
Carmilla took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly before responding. "Well, I already told you about Nazi security, didn't I?" She gestured to one of her holographic displays, which showed a complex web of patrol routes, sensor networks, and military installations around the Dutch coast. "The security has gotten significantly tighter since yesterday. Multiple reports of increased patrols, additional checkpoints, and enhanced surveillance. They're looking for something or someone."
"Us?" Eve asked.
"Possibly. Or possibly they're responding to other threats. Either way, we have a problem." Carmilla zoomed in on a particular section of the coast. "Our original plan was to use the underwater car to slip past their defenses and enter the Netherlands through an unmonitored section of coastline. But since our car got destroyed by those damn sharks..." She paused, her remaining hand clenching slightly at the memory. "We need a new plan. And new plans take time to develop."
Eve processed this information, her synthetic mind running through various scenarios and possibilities. "So we're waiting while you figure out how to get us past Nazi security without a vehicle?"
"Essentially, yes." Carmilla pulled up another display, this one showing what appeared to be shipping routes and commercial traffic patterns. "I'm looking for alternatives. Maybe we hitch a ride on a cargo ship, blend in with refugees trying to enter the country, purchase forged documents and fly in commercially
there are options, but they all require preparation and timing."
"Then let me help," Eve said, stepping closer to the displays. Her crimson eyes scanned the complex data with remarkable speed, processing information that would take a human hours to comprehend. "I can analyze patterns, identify optimal routes, calculate probability matrices for various approach vectors. My processing capabilities might be useful."
Carmilla looked at Eve with surprise that shifted into consideration. She'd been thinking of Eve primarily as Angela's companion and occasional muscle, not as someone who could contribute to strategic planning. But the offer made sense
synthetic consciousness meant computational power that biological brains simply couldn't match.
"You know what?" Carmilla said, stubbing out her cigarette and pulling up several more displays. "Let's do it then. I could use another perspective, and your processing speed will definitely help with the calculations."
Eve moved to sit beside Carmilla, her attention immediately focusing on the holographic data floating in the air around them. Numbers, routes, patrol patterns, security protocols all of it flowing through her mind with the ease of someone reading a familiar book.
"The primary challenge," Carmilla began, pulling up a detailed map of the Dutch coastline, "is that Nazi Germany has established a comprehensive surveillance network along the entire border. Radar, sonar, visual observation posts, drone patrols, automated sensor grids they've layered their defenses so that approaching undetected from any conventional angle is nearly impossible."
"Nearly," Eve repeated, latching onto the word. "But not completely?"
"Nothing is completely impossible," Carmilla replied. "There are always gaps, always moments of vulnerability, always human or in this case, robotic error. We just need to find them and exploit them before they close."
Eve's fingers moved through the holographic displays with surprising dexterity, manipulating data streams and cross-referencing different information sources. "What about weather patterns? The reports mentioned red rain in the Netherlands. If the precipitation is heavy enough, it could interfere with their optical and thermal sensors."
Carmilla's eyes lit up. "That's... actually a very good point. I'd been so focused on the security itself that I hadn't considered using environmental factors as cover." She pulled up meteorological data, overlaying it with the patrol patterns. "The red rain has been increasing in intensity over the past forty-eight hours. If we time our approach during a particularly heavy downpour..."
"Their sensors would be degraded," Eve finished. "Visual observation would be nearly impossible, radar could be affected by the precipitation density, and thermal imaging would be confused by the temperature variations in the rain itself."
"Exactly." Carmilla was already running calculations, her remaining hand flying across the holographic interface. "We'd still need to deal with sonar and electromagnetic detection, but those are more manageable if we're not also fighting visual and thermal systems."
They worked together in companionable silence for several minutes, pulling data, running simulations, testing different approach vectors against the known security systems. Eve found the process fascinating
not just the tactical problem-solving, but the collaborative nature of it. She was contributing. Being useful. Working alongside someone who treated her as an equal partner rather than a servant or a curiosity.
"There," Carmilla said finally, highlighting a specific route on the map. "This corridor, during the projected storm window tomorrow evening. Security will be at minimum effectiveness, patrol rotations will be disrupted by the weather, and we can use Astraea's ship assuming she lets us keep using it to approach from an unexpected angle that their coverage is weakest."
Eve studied the route carefully, her processors checking and rechecking the calculations. "The probability of successful infiltration is approximately 67%, assuming no unexpected variables. That's... not ideal, but significantly better than any other option available."
"Welcome to field operations," Carmilla said with a slight smile. "Anything above 60% is considered acceptable risk in this line of work. Anything above 75% is considered either too good to be true or means you're not attempting anything difficult enough."
Eve nodded slowly, understanding the logic even if it felt uncomfortable. Her entire existence had been built around certainty, around following clear protocols and achieving defined objectives. This world of probability and acceptable risk was still foreign to her.
"So we wait until tomorrow evening," Eve said. "And then we attempt infiltration during the storm."
"Assuming the weather cooperates, yes." Carmilla began saving their work, backing up the plans to multiple secure locations. "Weather can be unpredictable, especially weather as unusual as blood-red rain. If the storm doesn't materialize or hits at the wrong time, we'll need to adapt."
"And if we fail to infiltrate successfully?"
Carmilla's expression became more serious. "Then we'll likely be captured, interrogated, and possibly kworld though given who we are and what we're after, they might keep us alive for leverage or experimentation. Nazi Germany isn't known for its gentle treatment of prisoners, especially those suspected of being Blessed or having information about the Tree of Hope."
The casual way Carmilla discussed their potential capture and death was unsettling, but Eve appreciated the honesty. Better to know the stakes clearly than to operate under comfortable delusions.
"I'll make sure we succeed," Eve said, and she was surprised by the conviction in her own voice.
Carmilla looked at her with something that might have been respect. "I believe you will."
They returned to their work, fine-tuning the plan, accounting for additional variables, preparing backup options in case their primary approach failed. Hours passed with neither of them noticing, both absorbed in the complex puzzle of how to smuggle three wanted individuals past one of the most sophisticated security networks in the modern world.