Milano woke up. Sharply. Like a man trying to break through the surface of a deep water.
His chest lifted sharply as his lungs dragged in a deep, rough breath. His eyes flickered and opened to a foreign ceiling; one he didn't recognize. For a moment there, he laid still—disoriented, waiting for his thoughts to rearrange themselves from a puzzle, into something that made sense, cause nothing felt familiar.
The air was stale, and tasted like metal. A faint humming sound vibrated through the walls. Whatever was beneath him wasn't a mattress at all, but a slab of reinforced concrete which was just softened by a thin blanket.
"Good. You're conscious."
He heard her before he saw her.
Eliana's voice moved through the dim little space like a new knife cutting through a velvet cake—smooth enough to soothe, sharp enough to cut. As Milano pushed himself up on his elbows, his muscles screamed, his ribs protested, and a dull ache pulsed through his spine.
Where am I?
Wh… what happened?
Is this—?
His thoughts derailed the instant he actually saw her.
Eliana stood a few steps away with her back turned, bent slightly over a metal desk littered with maps, symbols, strange metallic shards, and an iridescent stone that pulsed faintly like a new born baby's heartbeat. She was dressed differently now. She wore a sleek black tactical leather which hugged her body from shoulders to thighs, outlining every curve with unforgiving precision.
Milano's brain fizzled. Like a wire short-circuited.
The shape of her hips alone made him forget about everything, the collapse, the world outside, even the fact that he had nearly died. He wasn't proud of that, but he couldn't deny it also.
Her silhouette was crazy. It had weight.
And gravity.
And a power he couldn't understand.
He didn't move, didn't even breathe. He just watched.
Eliana didn't turn. She didn't need to.
"I can feel you staring."
Milano flinched. "I—um—star—um—no, common, I wasn't—"
"Relax," she said, as she finally straightened up and face him. "I thought dragging you through two collapsing tunnels would leave you unconscious for a few more hours."
"You carried me?"
"Dragged," she corrected. "You're heavier than you look. Not too heavy for me, but— nevermind."
Her eyes swept over him quickly. She was assessing, not admiring. But there was something about her gaze, she lingered an inch too long, as if she was confirming if he hadn't broken anything vital.
Milano sat fully upright, wincing. "Where is this place?"
"My hideout," she said simply, as she gathered a handful of metal shards and slid them into a pouch. "Deep under the old water treatment district. No one comes here. No one even knows it exists."
"Why save me?"
She paused, only slightly, but he noticed still.
Then her pretty but dark eyes lifted to his.
"You were marked," she said. "You didn't choose it. That makes you my responsibility. For now," she added.
"Marked?" Milano repeated. "With what… how…?"
Before she answered, a low rumble vibrated through the floor. Eliana stiffened. Her hand drifting to the blade strapped to her thigh. "Damn it. Already?"
"Already what?" Milano asked.
She turned from him, grabbed a compact wrist-device from the table, and tossed it. Milano barely caught it.
"That will keep them off of you temporarily," she said.
"'Them' who—?"
A second rumble cut him off, as the stone walls trembled, and dust rained down like some sort of gray snow.
And then, the lantern flickered. The air shifted, and a sound like cracking ice echoed from the tunnel beyond the steel door.
Eliana's entire posture changed—her muscles tightened, her breathing slowed.
"Milano," she said quietly, "whatever you do, don't panic."
"Panic about wha—?"
Before I could finish, the steel door buckled inward. A clawed shadow pierced through the metal as though it were wet paper.
Milano's throat closed in terror, and his mouth opened "Eliana!"
She moved.
He didn't see her draw the blade.
He didn't even see her step.
One moment she was beside him, and the next, she was halfway across the room, slicing through the first Riftling that breached the doorway.
As she sliced, the creature dissolved with a scream that wasn't sound but something deeper. Vibrations that rattled Milano's bones.
"Eliana!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. "There's more um—!"
"I know," she said through her clenched teeth, as she sliced a second Riftling cleanly in half as another one erupted from the air behind her.
The hideout shook again, but harder this time, and cracks spiderwebbed along the walls, just as sparks exploded from the ceiling's old wiring.
Milano stumbled as a Riftling lunged straight at him. Its body rippled like distorted glass. "Eliana!"
Before it reached him, Eliana kicked off the wall, twisting midair, her blade flashing in a perfect arc that cut the creature down just inches from Milano's face.
He felt her body collide lightly with his as she landed. It was warm, strong, and her breath hot against his neck. Her chest pressed briefly against his shoulder as she pushed him back.
"You freeze too much," she said, exasperated.
"I don't freeze—!"
"You were absolutely freezing," she snapped, pushing him toward the back tunnel.
He opened his mouth to protest, but another Riftling crawled out of the broken doorframe. Eliana threw a dagger without looking, and the blade buried itself between the creature's eyes before Milano even registered the motion.
She grabbed his arm. Her grip was firm, and her body heat sank instantly into his skin.
"Stay close," she said, pulling him beside her.
"I am close," Milano muttered breathlessly.
"Not like that." She yanked him harder. "Focus."
But it was difficult to focus with her assests pressed against him in the narrow tunnel, her scent mixing with dust and danger. Her movements were efficient and lethal, yet somehow, they were graceful, the curve of her hips brushing his side each time she pivoted to cut down another creature.
Milano tried not to look. Tried not to think. But failed. Spectacularly.
"Eliana," he whispered as another surge of Riftlings screeched through the collapsing hideout. "They're everywhere!"
"I think I noticed." She responded.
She pressed Milano back against the wall with her forearm—a motion that should have felt threatening but instead sent a confused, heated pulse through his body.
Her face was just inches from his.
Her breaths were fast. His were faster.
"Listen to me," she said. "I can fight. You can run. So when I say move, you move."
"What about you?"
She smirked with one corner of her mouth.
"I don't lose."
Before he could reply, Eliana swung her blade in a downward arc so fast it left a glowing trail in the air. That was when he realized a Riftling had burst up from the floor
"Move!"
She said as she shoved him into the escape tunnel, just as the hideout behind them collapsed with a thunderous roar.
The tunnel was narrow, twisting downward in a spiral, filled with broken pipes and debris. Eliana stayed directly behind him, one hand occasionally touching his back to push him faster.
But every time she touched him, no matter how briefly, he felt it—heat, electricity, something dangerously distracting.
"Eliana," he gasped as they burst into a wider chamber, "what was that… what are those things?"
"Riftlings," she said, scanning the shadows.
"That's not an answer!"
"Creatures that slipped through the fractures in the world."
"Still not an answer" he said, confused.
"It's the only one you get right now." She grabbed his wrist, turning the device she gave him so that its blue pulse synced with hers. "This keeps them from tracking you through the mark. But it's temporary."
"What do they want with me?"
Her eyes turned to his.
There was something there… reluctance, maybe guilt.
"It's not you they want," she said softly. "It's what's inside you."
A loud screech echoed from the tunnel.
Eliana's head snapped toward the sound.
"Move. Now!"
She sprinted forward, as she pulled Milano behind her. The chamber shook, violently, and loose stones clattered to the ground. They ran through another narrow passage until they reached a rusted ladder leading upward.
"You first," she ordered.
Milano climbed; his hands were shaking. The rungs groaned with his weight, but they held. After a few seconds, he felt her climbing behind him, fast, controlled, dangerously close. Her hand brushed his calf once, deliberately steadying him when he slipped.
"Don't look down," she said.
"Why?!"
"Because if you fall, it'll be my problem to catch you, and I'm tired."
He laughed despite the chaos. "You saved me twice already!"
"I dragged you twice." She corrected.
Another screech echoed upward.
"Climb!"
He obeyed.
At the top of the ladder, he shoved open a metal grate and pulled himself into an abandoned storage hall lined with cracked tiles and shattered mirrors. "Cracks again, huh?" He asked jokingly.
Eliana ignored, climbing out a second later and shut the grate just as a Riftling claw scraped the underside.
Milano collapsed against a wall, panting. "I—I can't keep running like this."
"Yes, you can," she said, kneeling in front of him.
Her hand came up, slow, deliberate—and touched the side of his jaw.
The contact froze him in place. Her fingers were warm. Her eyes were burning, and her face was inches from his.
"You're stronger than you think, Milano," she said.
He swallowed. "What gives you that impression or makes you say that?"
"Because I don't save weak people."
The building trembled again. Eliana stood.
"We need to get above ground," she said, offering him her hand.
He hesitated; not because he didn't trust her, but because he felt something else entirely when he looked at her. Something electric and dangerous in a different way than the creatures hunting him. He took her hand anyway.
Her grip tightened.
She pulled him to his feet effortlessly.
And together, they ran toward whatever came next.