Lucian ran until the fire in his lungs turned to smoke. His boots pounded through puddles, each step echoing off the narrow alleyways of Arvendale's lower district. Cold rain lashed down from above, soaking his hair and plastering his coat to his skin. The sharp scent of oil, sewage, and rotting food clung to the streets, mixing with the flickering neon haze that barely lit the grime-coated walls.
He didn't dare stop. Every corner he turned, every shadow that moved made his heart stutter in his chest. He didn't know who that woman was, or how she'd found him, but the way she'd moved,the confidence, the precision, the blade at his throat told him everything. She was trained. And she was there for him.
The memory flashed again. Her eyes. Ice-cold. Focused. She hadn't flinched, hadn't hesitated. And worse than that.She knew something about him. About the mark.
Lucian skidded to a halt behind a rusted delivery truck, bent over, and braced his hands on his knees. His chest heaved, each breath ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears. His entire body trembled from more than just exhaustion.
He glanced down at his right hand. The cloth he'd tied around it was soaked through, clinging to the faint glow beneath. The light had dimmed since the encounter, but the skin still throbbed with warmth, as if something beneath it was awake. Waiting. The mark it wasn't natural. And it was changing him.
He shuddered.
"I can't go back," he whispered.
Not to his apartment. Not to the cafe where he worked. Not even to the streets he was familiar with. She'll find him too easily. And if she can, others can too.
Lucian pressed his back to the cold brick wall and forced his brain to focus. He needed a plan. A place. Somewhere off the grid. Someone he could trust.
Then a name pushed itself through the fog in his mind. Jace.
Lucian's shoulders sagged slightly with relief. Jace might not have answers, but at least he had walls. And secrets. The guy practically lived underground in that tiny workshop of his. If anyone could help him disappear for a while, it was Jace.
Lucian stood upright again, adjusting his coat and pulling his hood low over his face. The cold gnawed at his skin, but he kept walking. He didn't run this time. Running drew attention. And attention got you killed.
The deeper into the lower districts he went, the quieter the city became. The high rises gave way to sagging buildings and broken signs. Streetlights flickered and died, one after the other, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Arvendale's Revo District was one of those places people forgot. No cops. No cameras. Just rust, shadow, and survival. Old shipping containers served as shops, and makeshift tarps stretched over alleys to keep the rain out. Lucian passed a man huddled over a barrel fire, a woman arguing with herself in a doorway, and a group of teens selling black market tech from a tarp.
Nobody looked at him. Nobody asked questions.
That was what made Revo perfect.
Eventually, Lucian spotted the familiar sagging roof and faded paper lanterns of Oni Bowl, a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop that barely passed for legal. The sign above the door blinked weakly, more letters dead than alive. But it was warm, and more importantly, it was safe.
Lucian pushed through the door, and the smell of broth and fried oil hit him like a hug.
"Sit wherever," came a dry voice from the back.
He didn't stop to look. Instead, he made a beeline for the stairs behind the counter, ignoring the annoyed old woman who turned to glare at him from behind the register.
"Hey! Hey! That's for staff!" she snapped.
"Sorry!" Lucian called over his shoulder. "I know Jace."
He climbed the stairs two at a time, hands trailing along the metal railing slick with rust. The door at the top was unmarked, paint peeling from the frame. He banged on it with the side of his fist.
No answer.
He knocked again, louder.
Still nothing.
"Jace," he hissed. "Open up. It's me."
There was a shuffle. Then the sound of several locks being undone. Finally, the door creaked open, revealing a pale face framed by messy black curls and oversized glasses.
Jace blinked at him, groggy. "Lucian? Dude. It's two in the morning."
Lucian looked at him, drenched, shivering, and completely out of breath.
"I need to crash. Please. I'll explain everything."
Jace stared at him for a moment, then let out a sigh. "You better not have brought trouble with you."
"I probably did," Lucian muttered.
Jace stepped aside, and Lucian stumbled in.
The apartment was cluttered, as always. A tiny living space barely big enough for two people, let alone all the computers, wires, stacked monitors, and snack wrappers that lined every surface. A glowing console buzzed on a side table. Three different clocks blinked the wrong time. A drone hovered in the corner, asleep in its dock.
Lucian sank onto the frayed couch, water dripping from his sleeves. He let his head fall back, eyes shut.
Jace raised an eyebrow. "Want a towel or...?"
Lucian held up a hand. "Just... give me a second."
Jace vanished into the other room and returned with a towel and a can of soda. He tossed both at Lucian and then sat across from him on a rolling chair, arms crossed.
"So. What happened?"
Lucian dried his face and looked down at his hand. The cloth had loosened, and a faint blue glow seeped out.
Jace noticed. His eyebrows lifted.
"Is that... tech?"
Lucian gave a hollow laugh. "I wish."
He unwrapped the cloth slowly. The mark on his palm shimmered like ink under moonlight, lines and curves that moved slightly when you looked too long.
Jace leaned in, fascinated. "Okay, that's either the coolest tattoo I've ever seen or something way above my pay grade."
"It wasn't there two days ago," Lucian said quietly. "It just appeared. I don't know how. But ever since then... things have been happening."
Jace tilted his head. "Things like what?"
Lucian hesitated. "I burned a hole in the wall. By accident. I wasn't even touching it."
Jace blinked. "...Okay, what?"
"And then this woman she came out of nowhere. Had a sword. Said I was 'marked.' Tried to kill me. She knew about the mark, Jace. She recognized it."
The amusement vanished from Jace's face. "You serious right now?"
Lucian nodded. "Dead serious. I think... I think she's not the only one looking for me."
Jace was quiet for a long time. He tapped his fingers against the desk, eyes scanning the mark.
"This thing," he said slowly, "you said it just showed up? No warning?"
Lucian shook his head.
"No idea what triggered it?"
"None."
Jace ran a hand through his hair. "Well, it's not a symbol I recognize. Not from tech. Not from magic either,at least not the street-level stuff I mess with."
Lucian leaned forward. "But you believe me."
Jace snorted. "Dude, I've seen a man turn his eyes into cameras and a kid hack a vending machine with his mind. This city is messed up. You glowing? Honestly, not even top five weirdest things I've seen."
Lucian cracked a weak smile. It felt good, even if just for a second.
Jace stood up. "All right. You can crash here. I'll lock everything down. But if sword lady shows up, I'm not dying for you."
"Fair," Lucian said.
He lay back and closed his eyes. His whole body ached. But for the first time in hours, he felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt since this all started.
Safety!
Even if it was temporary.
As he drifted off to sleep, the mark on his hand pulsed once, faintly. Like it, too, had found a place to rest.
For now.