PLANET AGAFRA - TOLLINDO CITY

“Do you have a backup plan?” Dion asked, turning to Hyejin.

Hyejin didn’t respond, she just looked flabbergasted at everything she had just witnessed. She had been watching quietly with abject horror for a while. Atticus was pretty sure the extreme violence far exceeded anything she had been expecting from the race.

They were in some kind of VIP hotel suite with a massive window that overlooked the finish line. The room was so white and devoid of personality that Atticus thought it might give the NexTech nexus a run for its money in the ‘pristine’ category. It must have cost Hyejin a fortune to hire. Atticus could see the massive crowd of people in the stands, all cheering and watching a huge holodisplay detailing the live events of the race.

Inside the room, one of the walls was decked out in holodisplays, each one displaying a different point of view from the drones out on the track. It showed more than the big screens that switched feeds from drone to drone. Their posse had a particularly close and personal view of the crash that ruined all their plans.

Atticus had never seen someone’s face pale as quickly as Hyejin’s had at that moment.  In truth, Aticus was a bit horrified himself, but up until that point he had been pretty invested in the race. The brutality of the whole event was equal parts thrilling and equal parts stomach-churning.

“If we weren’t late, maybe we could have at least met them first,” Atticus commented, poking fun at the pink-haired woman in an attempt to break her out of her stupor.

The moment their group had stepped off the shuttle and into the open-air port of Tollindo, Hyejin’s white clothes had been coated in the orange-red dust whipped up by the breeze. Instead of heading straight to the hotel, she insisted on buying a change of clothes to make herself presentable. As a result, they missed the beginning of the race and their meeting with the rest of their crew. They had no choice but to watch from the comfort of the hotel room as ‘Skidmark’ was ground into tiny pieces by ‘Dom-the-Distructor’.

Hyejin slowly sank onto the sofa behind her and held her face in her hands.

Atticus and Dion exchanged an awkward glance. How did you comfort someone in a situation like this? 

‘Jim and Dom-the-Distructor are now neck and neck, fighting for first–’ Hyejin smashed a fist down on the control panel beside her to mute the commentator.

“It’s over,” she whined, leaning back to look at the ceiling. “So much for that plan.”

“Look, maybe I can get in from the outside?” Atticus suggested gently, moving closer to Hyejin. If she called off the job, he and Dion probably wouldn’t get paid.

She shook her head but didn’t look at him. “If you could get the info I need from the outside, I would have it already. We need to get into that building. To do that, we need someone good with weapons to create a disturbance; someone untraceable.”

“Then what about hiring someone else? Look at this place, Tollindo is crawling with violent nutjobs right now,” Dion suggested. Pointing back to the screen where the other racers were still battling it out in silence he continued, “I’m sure most of them are unregistered if they entered into a race like this. Imagine how much insurance they would need to pay if any of this was legal.”

“But those guys are the best of the best–”

“Were,” Dion interrupted with a snort. “Sorry,” he added when he saw the spiteful look on Hyejin’s face.

Atticus scratched at the irritated skin on his neck. The frayed thread of the otherwise perfect couch suddenly seemed truly fascinating in the awkward silence that filled the room. 

They needed this job. Ren scared Atticus and he had never met the man himself; he’d only heard warning after warning from Dion to stay away. As a kid, Atticus had more than one nightmare about this mysterious figure from their past and the horrors he was capable of.

“I’ll go see if I can find someone who knows a guy,” Dion finally relented, headed for the door. “Surely Skidmark wasn’t the only vehicle with a skilled weapons expert in it.”

Hyejin suddenly stood and shouted at no one in particular, “Why would people even risk their lives in this stupid race anyway? Is the money for winning worth it?”

“We don’t get paid to win,” someone replied. “It’s rigged from the start. Jim will win.”

All three of them looked to the door to see a tall man with long hair and both arms full of something colourful. “Here, hold this,” the man said, pushing all the treats into a bewildered Dion’s arms.

A shorter man followed him in, struggling to hold his stash due to a sling cradling one of his arms. He was also wearing a breather mask with fangs painted on it which obscured most of the lower half of his face. It looked like the pair had raided a vending machine… or maybe more than one considering they had so much chocolate.

Dion, Hyejin and Atticus all looked on in silence as the taller man checked the hallway before quietly closing the door.

“Who are you?” Dion asked with a deep frown.

“Don’t mind us,” the shorter man said with a distorted voice as he approached the dining table in the middle of the room. He dumped his hoard and took a seat without invitation. “If the doctor asks, we’re not here.”

Both of them looked worse for wear; their clothes were tattered, their hair tangled, bodies bruised and scuffed. 

Their gold eyes put Atticus on edge. Mana poisoning was usually a self-inflicted condition where a person had consumed too much mana powder. Some people believed if they consumed enough powder they would be able to use mana without any devices, such as the prosthetics used by some individuals. This was deadly, however, and would eventually drive a person completely mad before it finally killed them.

“Thanks!” the tall man said, taking back everything he had handed to Dion. Red dirt coated the front of Dion’s clothes. There was also a red handprint on the white door to the room.

When Atticus realised that the two men were dragging the dirt with them all through the room he glanced at Hyejin, in time to see her explode…

“GET OUT!” she screamed like a banshee, storming over to the table. “Who told you you could just waltz in here and do whatever you please? I paid good money for this room and you’re just—” she gestured to them in general, “making a mess of everything! Whatever this is, I don't have time for it! I don’t have time for you!”

Both strangers looked a little taken back by the short angry woman who jabbed a finger at them. She looked like she was about to throw her hands.

“All of you people are crazy! Has the galaxy gone completely insane? Is this the future we fought for? So ungrateful, entitled, arrogant wretches like you can galavant around the worlds, doing whatever you want? Nevermind the law, it’s only a guideline, anyway!” she continued.

Hyejin was addressing the two strangers, but Atticus knew that he and Dion were also lumped into this rant.

The shorter man pushed forward, puffing out his chest as he took up the challenge. “Those are some colourful words coming from a privileged place. Do you even know what was sacrificed to power your home, your ship, this very room,” he accused, gesturing around them. “We spent years in those mines. Years, so that people like you could live in comfort. And all I want in return for it is some chocolate.”

“Echo…” the taller man mumbled, putting a hand on the smaller one’s shoulder.

The mana in the air stung Atticus’ skin and he scratched at his neck again. 

“What’s he doing?” Dion asked, his attention on something outside the window.

Down at the finish line, a person had walked out into the middle of the track. They were wearing a cloaked hood like some kind of villain out of a story.

The mana in the air crackled against Atticus’s skin and he hissed, scratching harder.

“It’s Yesterday’s Children…” Hyejin replied, swallowing hard.

Atticus grunted at the increasing pain, “Ow! What–”

CRACK!

The noise was so loud it was like thunder. A red glowing orb crackled and zapped as it quickly expanded above the finish line, engulfing the banner that signalled the end of the track.

“No…” Hyejin muttered, nearly breathless as she stumbled away from the window. “I-It’s a dimension tear… they opened a gate…”

SKREEEEEEE!

Dread filled Atticus’ mind as giant crab-like legs landed on the red dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust that obscured the hooded person. A chorus of screeching monsters followed as more legs started emerging from the gate that continued to grow larger at an exponential rate.

Atticus felt like his skin was on fire. The searing pain was so intense, he could barely understand what was going on when Dion grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.

CRACK!

The hall was a blur of white as the group ran toward the elevator. Atticus thought he saw a trail of chocolate bars when he glanced behind him.

BOOM!

The building shook.

They reached the elevator doors and Atticus had to use a wall to support himself. The world was spinning and the bright lights stung his eyes. He blinked, rubbing his eyes. They were watering so badly that it was hard to make out anything more than the vague shapes of the rest of the group. They were shouting about something. The room they booked was on the eighteenth floor and the elevator itself was already on the ground level.

BOOM! SKREEEEE!

The building shook again.

“The stairs!” someone cried, but Atticus couldn’t focus on who. He let himself be ushered toward the stairwell. There was a lot of shouting now, but Atticus wasn’t sure if it was coming from his people, or the other patrons who were trying to escape. It might have even been from outside. 

His head lolled to one side with a groan as a splitting pain pierced through his skull. Atticus missed a step, stumbled and toppled forward down the stairs. Someone caught him before he hit the floor and Atticus could roughly make out a concerned expression as his brother held him up.

“Atticus, your nose!” Dion’s words were hard to understand at first, but now that he was aware of it, Atticus could taste metal. He wiped under his nose and his hand came away with blood. A lot of blood. More than the nosebleed he normally had when he was hacking for too long. So much more.

Atticus felt his muscles stiffen and a vague sense of falling again.