Fifteen seconds. That was exactly how much time I had left to live.
In the gleaming, floating city of Aethelgard, nobody pays for rent, food, or water with money. We pay with hours, drained straight from our blood through the metal gauges grafted to our wrists. The elites in the sky live for centuries, bathing in sunlight and wearing clothes that cost a decade to stitch.
The rest of us down in the smog-choked slums? We die young. We die in the dirt.
Tonight, my clock was finally running out.
12 seconds remaining.
Dying of time-loss didn't feel like falling asleep. It felt like freezing from the inside out. My veins were packed with crushed ice. Every frantic gasp for air tore at my lungs like rusted hooks. My vision blurred, turning the edges of the room into a dark, swimming haze.
Keep moving, Kaelia. Keep moving.
I dragged my numb, bleeding body across the cold obsidian floor of the governor's private vault. Bypassing the heavy kinetic locks on the outer doors had cost me thirty minutes of my life; time I desperately didn't have to spend. But I was a "zero-hour" rat. I was going to die tonight anyway. I figured if I was going to rot, I might as well do it after robbing the immortal monster who built the slums.
8 seconds remaining.
The digital numbers on my wrist flashed a violent, warning red. Eight seconds.
In the exact center of the massive room sat a black velvet pedestal. Resting on top of it was a thick glass box. Inside that box wasn't a normal, silver vial of human time. It was a raw, jagged crystal, pulsing with a blinding, heavy gold light.
I didn't know what it was. I didn't care. It was time, and my soul was starving for it.
4 seconds remaining.
My legs completely gave out. I crashed to the hard floor right at the base of the pedestal, scraping my chin against the marble. A pathetic, wet sob ripped from my throat. I couldn't reach it. I was going to die right here, inches away from salvation.
No. I refuse to die on my knees.
With the absolute last ounce of strength in my freezing muscles, I grabbed the heavy iron flashlight from my belt. I swung my arm up and smashed it into the glass.
Crack.
The glass shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. The moment the open air touched the golden crystal, it didn't wait for me to extract it with a needle. The crystal exploded into a bright, glowing mist. It surged downward, rushing straight into my mouth and up my nose.
It felt like swallowing the sun.
Liquid fire erupted through my icy veins. The agonizing cold vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, electric warmth that made my back arch off the floor. The digital clock on my wrist began to shriek. The red numbers spun so fast they blurred; past days, past months, past years, past decades. The sheer force of the stolen centuries was too much for the cheap metal.
Snap. The glass face of my time-gauge cracked down the middle, leaking a faint, impossible golden glow.
I collapsed against the floor, panting wildly. My heart was beating with a loud, furious, triumphant rhythm. I wasn't just alive. I felt like I could tear the building apart with my bare hands. I had done it.
"I have executed men for breathing too loudly in this wing."
The dark, quiet voice didn't just echo in the vault. It vibrated in my teeth.
My blood ran cold. The golden warmth inside me instantly froze in terror. I slowly pushed myself up on trembling arms and looked toward the doorway.
He stood in the shadows, a silhouette carved from pure nightmare. Lord Valerius. The immortal Time Lord of Aethelgard. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit that cost more lifespans than my entire family tree had ever lived. His face was devastatingly handsome, sharp jawline, pale skin but his eyes ruined the beauty. They glowed with a predatory, furious amber.
He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't yell for his guards. He simply crossed the fifty feet between us in the space of a single heartbeat.
Before I could even scream, his large, leather-gloved hand wrapped around my throat. He lifted me completely off the ground with one arm, his grip like a steel vise crushing my windpipe.
"Filth," he whispered, his voice dripping with disgust as he looked at the empty, shattered glass box. "Do you have any idea what you just inhaled?"
I kicked my legs in the air, scratching frantically at his thick fingers. But he was like a statue. My lungs screamed for oxygen. The black spots returned to my vision. I was going to die after all; a billionaire in time, choked out by the devil himself.
But then, something impossible happened.
As my lungs began to give out, Valerius suddenly flinched.
His amber eyes went wide with pure panic. His free hand shot up, clawing violently at his own collar. A horrible, ragged gasp tore from his lips.
As my air ran out, the invincible Time Lord began to suffocate.
His grip failed. He dropped me. I hit the marble floor hard, coughing violently, dragging sweet, glorious air back into my burning lungs.
Right next to me, the untouchable Lord Valerius crashed to his knees. He was panting heavily, clutching his chest, mirroring my exact breaths. He stared at me in absolute horror, looking from the golden light bleeding from my wrist, to his own trembling hands.
Before he could even speak, the heavy metal doors of the vault burst open.
A dozen of his elite guards rushed in, raising their heavy laser-rifles. A dozen glowing red sights locked straight onto my chest.
"Intruder!" the captain yelled, his finger pulling back on the trigger. "Fire!"
Valerius looked at me. He looked at the guns. He realized the terrifying truth of the golden magic binding us: if they shot me, he would die too.
The ruthless, cold-hearted Time Lord threw his own body over mine to shield me and screamed, "NO!"