You know that feeling when you walk into a room and everyone stops talking because they were clearly gossiping about you? Yeah, multiply that by about ten thousand volts of murder intent. I felt it prickle across my skin before I even saw the others arrive.
The President of Singapore stepped forward first, looking way too smug for a man who probably had a stylist pick out his entire outfit that morning. Behind him was the Faction Master of Marimus Singapore. My Faction Master.
The guy I apparently worked for without realizing it—seriously, it was the kind of plot twist that makes you want to punch the air.
A few other political leaders flanked them like hyenas with suits. They were th kind of people who smiled too wide and shook hands like they were checking for your pulse.
And they weren't alone.
There were snipers everywhere.
Rooftops, decks, higher balconies of the ship, some even floating on little levitating drones powered by tech. My eyes caught the glint of scopes locking onto us from every conceivable angle.
"You're going to die here," the President said, voice rich with dramatic flair. I swear he practiced that line in the mirror before coming on deck.
Mr. Phaser didn't even blink.
Instead, he let out the most tired sigh I'd ever heard. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder and said in that perfectly calm voice of his.
"Don't be scared, Permonelle. I promised to protect you."
My heart was screaming. But my mouth spoke before I could think.
"Right. Not scared. Just surrounded by about fifty guns and political traitors. Totally normal for a morning."
Then came the laughter. It was loud, snide, too proud.
"Oh, you really are delusional," the President sneered. "Mr. Phaser. Rogue Flux Elite, 9.8 Flux Rating, Second Flux Awakener. You think that means anything right now?"
Wait. What? Did I hear that right? 9.8?
Was that even a real number? Was that legal? I mean, I knew he was strong. Mysterious. Hot, in a "please-don't-vaporize-me" way. But 9.8 Flux Rating? There are literal deities who don't get past 9.5. What the hell kind of protein shake was he drinking?
Mr. Phaser didn't look proud or smug. He just stood there like someone had told him they ran out of his favorite ramen flavor.
The Faction Master stepped forward next, his smile fake enough to be a wax statue.
"We can't afford someone like you, Phaser. You're a liability. You've been keeping secrets from us. Moving pieces without the board's permission. And now, you've got her."
Me. I was "her," apparently. Wow, felt great to be reduced to a pronoun in a betrayal speech.
"She's just a civilian," the Faction Master continued, "but you of all people know how powerful potential can be. You protect her, and we lose control. So… this is where it ends."
Ah, there it was. Greed. Fear. Classic combo move of all bureaucratic backstabbers.
"I get it," Phaser said, and he actually nodded. "You're afraid. Afraid that someone outside your hierarchy might do what none of you can: survive without bowing."
He looked up toward the snipers.
"And I'm not denying anything. I've done a lot. Some of it illegal. Most of it messy. I'm not part of your factions. Never have been. Never will be."
He stepped forward once, just once, and the soldiers all twitched like cats seeing a cucumber.
"I'll give you one chance," he said quietly. "Turn around and walk away. I won't count it against you. Not today."
The President's smirk went nuclear.
"You're not in a position to negotiate."
Phaser sighed again, louder this time. The kind of sigh that says 'you really should've taken the free pass, dumbass.'
Then… he turned to me.
And I swear, his voice was gentler than ever.
"Permonelle dear, get ready to fight. You're an international crimminal now."
I blinked. "Me?"
Yes. Apparently, me.
"Oh wow. I I was a tour guide two days ago! I explained exhibit plaques and handed out pamphlets!"
But he didn't laugh.
He just looked at me, calm and confident, like he knew I could do this. Like maybe I already was doing it.
Chaos erupted.
Lights exploded. Alarms blared. My ears filled with the electric screech of Flux being unleashed in every direction.
Mr. Phaser vanished from beside me in a blur of motion, like someone hit the fast-forward button on reality itself. A wind slammed past my body, knocking several armed soldiers off balance as he launched himself toward the upper decks.
The snipers fired and missed.
I watched in open-mouthed awe as the air warped around him. Bullets turned in midair. Flux beams bent away like they were apologizing for even trying.
Meanwhile, I ducked behind a bench and screamed internally.
"Okay okay okay, think, Perri! You have a Flux! You're strong! You've got… adrenaline! Yes!"
A soldier lunged at me.
Big mistake.
I didn't even mean to punch that hard, but his body flew across the deck like a broken ragdoll.
"HOLY CRAP!" I shouted. "That was awesome!"
Then two more came at me.
"Oh no, I didn't mean it, I was kidding!"
But instinct took over. That new, terrifying instinct I'd only just begun to understand since the Second Thauma. I moved like someone else entirely. Like… like a fighter. A survivor.
Amid the blur of motion, energy blasts, and collapsing deck plating, I caught a glimpse of Phaser again. Standing on the rail of the ship like some kind of myth, cloak whipping in the wind, his hand glowing with that impossible Flux energy that looked almost… sentient.
I felt the impact before I heard it.
A sharp, stinging pain cracked through the side of my skull, quick and brutal, like someone smacked me in the head with a steel baton. My vision blinked black for a moment. My ears rang. I staggered sideways, dizzy, one foot skidding out beneath me.
Then I looked down and there it was.
The bullet, crushed and flattened like it had hit a damn tank instead of my head.
"What the…?"
I mumbled, my fingers slowly rising to touch the side of my temple.
I was not bleeding, not even bruised. The bullet hadn't gone through. It had bounced off.
I knelt, still in a haze of confusion and adrenaline, and picked it up. It was a sniper round, long, deadly and meant to go through body armor and tear bone like paper. But it had dented itself on me.
I stood there for a second, dazed, wind whipping my hair across my face as gunfire echoed and screams tore through the air around me.
And then…
Then I laughed.
"Are you kidding me?" I said aloud, holding up the bullet to no one in particular. "You bounced? I've been terrified of snipers since I was ten and now you're telling me I'm immune? I COULD'VE BEEN LIVING MY BULLETPROOF LIFE THIS WHOLE TIME?!"
And then the universe reminded me that, oh yeah, I was still in the middle of a literal ambush. Because the moment I turned my head, I saw them.
Flux Elites. Five of them.
All in full gear, glowing with activated tech and enhanced senses. They moved toward me like a pack of wolves. They were the kind of people who trained for this, who could probably count how many bones they could break in a single move.
And me? Yeah, I was strong now but I wasn't stupid.
"NOPE!" I screamed, turning on my heel and booking it.
One foot hit the deck and the next thing I knew, the world blurred. The cruise ship whipped by me like I was on some invisible highway of speed. I was so fast I outpaced the sound of my own panicked breathing.
"Oh my god—OH MY GOD—I'M SPEEDING!"
I shouted like an absolute idiot, sprinting past gunmen, passengers, collapsed chairs, and confused onlookers.
"WHAT IS THIS?! WHY AM I SO FAST?!"
I fell at least twice,skidded into a table that shattered beneath me, flipped a soldier over my back by accident, and crashed through a buffet setup like I was a one-woman hurricane. But I kept going.
No way was I fighting trained Flux Elites up close. I may be bulletproof, but that didn't mean I was suicidal.
"You can keep that boss battle," I yelled as I zigzagged around a cluster of soldiers, half-running, half-falling, "That's Phaser's problem now!"
And speaking of Phaser…
I caught a glimpse of him across the upper deck. And holy hell...
He wasn't fighting. He was slaughtering.
It was like watching someone paint a masterpiece in blood. He moved like he was conducting a symphony. Each motion was deliberate, clean, elegant, and then followed by some poor bastard getting torn apart by invisible force or sliced by energy waves that bent space around them.
People died. Alot of them. And me? I didn't flinch. Not once.
There was a time when I would have cried over one life lost. When death felt like something sacred, tragic, to be mourned.
But now? Now, it just felt like numbers. Like tallies on a board that never stopped ticking.
Because millions had already died, yesterday, last week, ten years ago during the Ashen Blood Rain. I'd lost Mira. My parents. My entire world was built on death. The people attacking us now? They were traitors. Murderers in suits. Their blood meant nothing.
They should all die. And I meant that. Every scream I heard from one of them made me run faster. Every bullet that pinged off my skin just fed the fire in my chest.
Every Flux Elite that tried to chase me down and fell short made me grin.
"This is what surviving feels like?" I yelled out to no one. "This is what living is?"
I careened around the corner of the deck, flipped over a container (by accident, again), and slid across the slick steel until I came to a stop beside a set of railings. Below, chaos ruled. Fires burned on the lower deck. Soldiers screamed. Some begged. Phaser cut through it all like a myth given flesh.
I looked down at my hands, shaking, crackling faintly with energy I didn't understand.
"I'm not a tour guide anymore," I whispered to myself. "I'm not just some bitch who survived—"
That was when all of a sudden, the entire cruise ship exploded.