Chapter 16: Cargo
The diner had settled into a soft quiet. Only the low murmur of a few lingering customers filled the space, blending with the distant clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Warm lights glowed overhead, casting a gentle amber hue across the empty tables and the wooden floor.
Arisa remained seated for a moment longer, her gaze shifting to Neta beside her. The cat girl was still nibbling at the last bit of salmon, cheeks subtly puffed, fully focused on her food. Without thinking, Arisa lifted a hand and lightly patted the top of Neta's head. Neta didn't flinch or pull away, she simply kept chewing, tail flicking in a slow rhythm.
"Alright, Neta," Arisa finally said as she rose from her seat, brushing off her pants. "I'm gonna head out too. Night's still young. Gonna walk around the city for a bit."
Neta swallowed her bite, but something in Arisa's tone made her look up. Arisa's eyes softened.
"Neta… I know you said you couldn't talk about the things on your arms," she said quietly. "But… is there a reason why?"
The question hit hard. Neta's ears drooped instantly, confidence melting away. The bright spark she usually carried dimmed, replaced with an uneasy, almost fearful silence.
"I-I can't talk about that…" she whispered, voice trembling.
Arisa leaned closer, concern growing. But before she could ask anything else, footsteps approached behind her. Jorno.. He stood there with an expression Arisa hadn't seen from him before, something between protectiveness and distress.
"Please, Arisa," he said, tone low and serious. "I've heard you try to bring this up before. It's better not to. Just leave it be. As long as she's happy, everything's fine."
Arisa turned to face him fully. That didn't sit right, not with what she saw, not with what she felt. "Are you really happy wearing those things?" Arisa asked, voice firmer now as she looked at Neta again.
Neta's eyes dropped to the floor. Her shoulders curled in. She didn't answer. Jorno stepped closer and placed a hand on Arisa's shoulder. The grip was firm. Not aggressive, just desperate.
"I think it's time you go," he said quietly. "Can't you see you're making her uncomfortable?"
Arisa inhaled slowly. This wasn't her intention. She looked at Neta again, and her expression gentled. "That's not what I want… I'm sorry, Neta," she said with genuine sincerity.
Neta peeked up at her, just enough to show a faint glimmer returning to her face. "It's okay…" she murmured.
Arisa nodded and turned away, stepping toward the diner entrance. Jorno's hand slipped from her shoulder. But before she reached the door, his voice followed her.
"Arisa." This caused her to pause. "It's better that you don't get involved… with them." Arisa slowly turned back. Her brows tightened.
"I heard what you and Ericna were talking about," he continued. "Please don't get involved. You'll only cause more pain… We're doing just fine here."
For a moment, no one spoke. Arisa stared into him, those sharp, purple eyes that always seemed to cut through lies. Jorno felt it. Felt her searching. Felt her questioning. Arisa finally broke away from the stare, she then pushed the door open, leaving Jorno's Diner.
As she stepped out into the cool night air of District Three. The door to Jorno's diner closed behind her with a soft metallic click, but her mind was anything but quiet. Thoughts spun through her head like a storm. The image of Neta's restrictors. Jorno's tense warning. Ericna's whispered security details. The silent pain behind Neta's smile.
She needed answers. She needed to know what that building was hiding. But Ericna's words echoed again and again,
"The last thing you need is to get on the DOP's bad side." And she hated how right that was.
Her jaw tightened. She didn't even bother pulling out her Kleidi for directions. She didn't care where she was going. She just needed to walk, to move. Until her thoughts settled enough for her to breathe. And so she walked.
[[Norad, District two]]
The city slowly shifted around her as she wandered deeper into District Two. The lively, low tech charm of District Three faded behind her, replaced by towering structures of steel and glass. Neon accents pulsed along the sidewalk edges. People crossed paths around her, merchants closing late stalls, security drones hovering, delivery bots rolling past, couples rushing home under umbrellas.
Arisa moved through it all like she was submerged underwater. She passed a small commission stand where two men bartered loudly. She passed a crosswalk lined with holographic signs shifting between languages. A group of kids ran across the streets, laughing, trailing glowing light sticks behind them.
She barely noticed any of it. Her thoughts circled the same point, She couldn't do anything. Not yet. She has to wait. That helplessness clawed at her chest. Eventually she stepped into a wide four way intersection, and suddenly everything around her felt heavier.
Waterfall.. A curtain of rain spilled down from the edge of a rooftop far above, cascading into the street like a silver veil. The tall buildings towered over her, blotting most of the sky, but the rain illuminated the narrow view with a soft, shimmering glow.
Arisa lifted her eyes. Even with all the chaos in her mind, she found herself pausing. There was something strangely beautiful about the rain falling between the skyscrapers, like the city itself was crying quietly.
Then she looked across the crosswalk. And her breath caught. A woman stood holding two children by the hands, a little girl and a boy. Their silhouettes were soft under the scattered lights. The woman's hair… long, gently curled, and eerily similar to Rena's.
Arisa froze. She took a step forward. But reality struck just as quickly. Arisa lowered her gaze and shook her head, almost angrily. She knew it wasn't them. But that didn't stop the ache.
A heavy, suffocating pain pressed into her chest, sudden, sharp, and raw. It felt like the world had briefly opened an old wound. Arisa turned away abruptly. She didn't want to look anymore. Didn't want to feel that ache.
She walked faster, almost fleeing from the moment, from the memory, from the past. Her feet carried her toward the only path that didn't keep her trapped in the crossroad, the one leading into a towering building with a wide bridge built into its structure. Arisa stepped into the shadow of the bridge, letting the rain fade behind her. Her mind was a storm but she kept moving.
——
Inside a white van sat two men, one in a hooded mask, the other wearing only a beanie pulled low over his face. Both were dressed in black. The driver, the man with the hoodie, kept glancing between the road and his partner.
"I can't believe you did that, man. We told them we had eight of 'em. Now we only got seven," he hissed, voice shaky with panic.
The man with the beanie shrugged, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder toward the locked off back compartment.
"He wouldn't stop making a fuss," he muttered. Through the tiny slit window behind them, he could barely make out shapes moving. "Besides…it worked. Now all of them are quiet."
The driver exhaled sharply. "Do you forget who's waiting for us at the port? You're gonna have to explain what happened."
The van eventually rolled into the built in bridge, the same enclosed walkway Arisa was now crossing. Both men saw her immediately, a lone girl walking with her head slightly down, lost in thought.
They watched her as they passed, eyes narrowed. "Bro… did you see that? She's alone," the beanie man said once they cleared her.
"Yeah, I saw," the driver muttered. His eyes darted to the side view mirror. "You recognize her?"
"Nope. But… we should turn around and get a face scan. The gods might've just blessed us."
Arisa's footsteps were calm, steady. She was deep in her thoughts until she noticed the van slowing behind her, then turning around. She didn't stop walking, but she was no longer lost in her mind. Her eyes rose, tracking the van as it came toward her again.
This time, as it passed, a faint blue laser like line skimmed across her face. It lasted only a second, but Arisa felt it. She stopped, her expression hardening as she watched the van continue on.
Inside, the men were already hunched over an advanced scanning tablet linked to a handheld device in the passenger's hands. Arisa's face flashed across the screen, cycling through dozens of random citizen records before stopping on one. The tablet beeped. Her profile popped up.
NEW CITIZEN. ARRIVED YESTERDAY. NO RESIDENT ID. NO JOB. NO DATA.
The passenger grinned wide. "Oh we got lucky. She's a nobody. Only been in Norad for a day."
The driver let out a breath of relief. "Lucky is an understatement. She's got a passive but no awakening. Easy target."
They pulled off to the side. "Alright, get ready. In case she puts up a fight." Both men grabbed assault rifles with green carbine finishes, excitement and nerves mixing in their movements. They made another U turn.
Arisa continued walking, tension forming like a storm cloud over her calm expression. She could hear the van approaching again behind her, headlights reflecting off the curved metal walls of the bridge.
Her jaw tightened. "I'm not in the mood for this shit," she muttered. The van slowed beside her. The windows were pitch black. She couldn't see inside, but she didn't step back. She turned fully toward it, standing her ground.
The passenger door suddenly burst open. The man with the beanie jumped out, now fully masked, assault rifle raised and aimed directly at Arisa's head.
"Don't do anything stupid, girl," he barked. Arisa's purple eyes sharpened, glaring straight into his eyes without a flicker of fear.
The driver joined him, looking both ways nervously before stepping behind his partner. Arisa assessed everything within seconds, their stance, their weight distribution, their rifles, the bridge structure, the blind spots.
A plan was forming. Then the van door slid open. Arisa's eyes snapped to it. Inside were four bound figures, bags over their heads, muffled cries barely audible. Blood pooling onto the van floor. As the door opened, they jerked in fear, their trembling bodies reacting to the fresh air.
In that instant, Arisa's hesitation vanished. She knew exactly what she needed to do. "Sorry, lady," the man holding the van door sneered. "Today ain't your lucky—"
Crack! The rifle stock smashed into Arisa's skull. Her body dropped instantly, face first toward the concrete. Unconscious. "FUCK! What are you doing!?" the door man shouted. "You could've killed her!"
The beanie man stared down at her limp body, confusion spreading across his face. He rubbed the back of his weapon, unsettled. "Sorry… but something about her eyes was making me uneasy."
He crouched slightly, frowning. "But—" His voice wavered. "I hit her hard… and there's no blood. Not even a bruise."
The other man glared. "Okay… and? She's knocked out, right?"
He looked her over again. "…She looks knocked out."
"Then fucking load her up before someone comes!" The driver rushed back to check the bridge. The beanie man bent down, hooking his arms under Arisa's body.
——-
Darkness.. That was the first thing Arisa registered when her eyes opened. A suffocating, absolute black. No shapes. No outlines. Not even the faintest shimmer of light leaking through the edges of a door. Just a void pressing in on her from every side.
Her senses shifted inward. Her wrists burned. When she tried to move them, rough rope scraped against her skin, it was tight. Her arms were pinned behind her back. Her ankles, too, were bound. Something thick and coarse filled her mouth, wedged between her teeth, a balled up rag tied cruelly around the back of her head. Each breath tasted of old fabric, dirt, and sweat.
Arisa did not panic. She inhaled through her nose, slow, steady, Focusing, Listening. The van was moving. She could feel it in the vibrations that rolled beneath her body, the groan of the suspension, the uneven bumps that jolted her against the cold metal floor. Every sharp turn forced the bodies beside her to slide helplessly into her. Their shoulders, knees, and trembling limbs pressed against her with every brake and acceleration.
There were others. At least seven. She counted them not by sight, but by sound. Small, muffled cries barely slipping past their gags. Wet sniffles. A boy's whimper. A girl's shaky breathing. Someone quietly trying not to sob. Someone else already beyond holding it back.
And beneath all their broken sounds was something thicker, heavier, a smell. Blood. It clung to the stale air of the van, metallic and raw, layered with sweat, fear, and the sharp chemical stench of the ropes binding them. The dread in the air had a scent, a weight, a presence.
Arisa shifted slightly, letting her shoulder tap the cold metal wall behind her. She could feel the divider, the thin sheet of reinforced steel separating the victims from the driver and his partner.
She focused again, lowering her heartbeat, sharpening her senses. Listening… Through the hum of the engine and the wheels grinding over the road, faint voices bled through the metal barrier. Two men. The same two voices from earlier. Muffled, but still there.
"…she didn't even fight back…"
"…just keep driving…"
"…when we get to the port…"
Arisa leaned her head back more firmly, letting the vibrations carry their words to her skull. The van was cramped, hot. The air barely moved. Every breath of the terrified bodies around her came fast and shallow, filling the dark with the sound of panic.
Except her. Arisa sat still, she was calm. Her eyes remained open, staring into the black. Feeling everything. Absorbing everything. She was the only one in that darkness who wasn't afraid.
The only one whose breath stayed silent and controlled. Without a struggle, Arisa pulled her hands apart. The rope didn't snap loudly, it tore. Fibers separated under steady pressure, unraveling in her palms. She made no sound. Not a breath wasted. When her wrists came free, she paused, listening, making sure the van's engine and rattling suspension swallowed everything.
Then she reached up and peeled the bag from her head. Darkness gave way to horror. Cold, lifeless eyes stared back at her from the floor. A man lay twisted near the van's rear wall, his body slack, blood pooled beneath his head and smeared along the metal grooves of the floor. His mouth hung slightly open, frozen mid breath. Just beneath his right eye was a clean, ugly hole.
Arisa stared at him for a long moment. No flinch. No gasp. Just a quiet understanding. She lifted her gaze. The others were still bound, seven figures slumped along the walls, bags over their heads, hands tied behind them. Some rocked back and forth. Others whimpered softly through their gags. Fear pressed in on her from every direction, thick and suffocating.
She shifted her attention, looking behind her. To the right, just beyond her shoulder, was the narrow slit window cut into the metal divider. Through it, she could barely make out motion. The silhouettes of the two men in the front seats, still talking, still unaware.
They were Unconcerned. But they didn't know. They didn't know a pair of glowing purple eyes was watching them now from the dark. Arisa turned away from the window and studied the captives more carefully.
She watched how they moved. Who fidgeted. Who trembled. Who cried. And who didn't. One of them sat unnaturally still, smaller than the others, head bowed, barely breathing. No rocking. No frantic movement. Just controlled stillness. He was the one. She moved to him quietly, kneeling. Slowly, she reached up and slid the bag from his head.
He gasped. Wide eyes met hers, frozen in shock, reflecting the faint glow of her purple irises. Her silhouette filled his vision. Before fear could turn into sound, Arisa raised a finger to her lips.
"Shhh." No words. Just command.
She gently pulled the rag from his mouth. He sucked in air, sharp and panicked, then froze again when his eyes darted to the corpse on the floor.
"W–what's go—" Her hand clamped over his mouth instantly.
The van jolted. Up front, one of the men spoke. "Did you hear that?"
"I'm driving, check the damn window, dumbass." Footsteps shifted. The passenger leaned back, peering through the slit. From his angle, everything looked the same, bodies still slumped, hands still bound, heads still covered.
He slammed the window with the butt of his rifle. "Keep it down back there!"
Several captives flinched. Muffled cries spiked. The man scoffed as he turned back around. "Probably just the new chick squirming."
"We gotta do something about the dead guy," the passenger muttered.
"We got time," the driver replied. "No one's looking for him."
In the back, Arisa waited. When the voices faded, she removed the bag from her own head and turned back to the boy removing his.
"Don't do that again," she whispered.
"I–I'm sorry," he breathed, barely audible.
"How did you get here?" She asked
"I don't know, I was going to a job interview. They led me to a break room and.. that's all I remember." His voice cracked.
"How long have you been in Norad?" Arisa continued
"A few days. I'm a refugee." His breath shook. "I needed the job, Did I do something wrong?"
Arisa covered his mouth again, but this time with the rag. "You did nothing wrong." She leaned closer, her voice steady, firm. "I will get all of you out."
His eyes trembled, fear giving way to Hope. "Can you get your hands under your legs?" Arisa asked.
He nodded. Carefully, awkwardly, he maneuvered his bound wrists beneath his thighs until they were in front of him. His fingers shook, but he managed.
"Good." Arisa put her hands out, holding the torn rope. "Tie this. Make it look real."
He did, clumsy but convincing. She got ready to put his bag back over his head but not before meeting his eyes one last time.
Her eyes didn't scare him this time. They grounded him. But for Arisa, she saw a boy just trying to live. "Head down," she said softly. Putting the bag back over his head.
She returned to her spot, replaced the bag, and slid her arms behind her back again. Stillness returned to the van. The others continued to panic. But now there were two calm souls in the dark.
Arisa knew she had been in Norad only a short time. Just like him. Which meant the rest of them likely were, too. Nameless. Unregistered. Disposable.
——
After what felt like an eternity, the van finally came to a stop. The change was immediate. Arisa heard it before she felt it, the low grind of heavy machinery somewhere nearby, muffled voices bleeding through metal walls. Then the tires changed beneath them. The smooth hum of asphalt gave way to a hollow, ringing vibration..Metal.
She felt it in her spine. Heard it echo through the frame of the van. The people inside reacted instantly. Bodies shifted, restraints tugged, breath hitched. Panic rippled through the darkness like a wave. Everyone sensed it at once. Everyone except Arisa. And the boy.
The front doors opened and shut. Then, Bang! A fist slammed violently against the side of the van. The sound cracked through the enclosed space, sharp and sudden. Several people jolted, muffled cries breaking loose before being swallowed back down. Someone whimpered. Someone else sobbed quietly. Arisa didn't flinch.
Footsteps moved around the exterior, boots scraping against metal. Then the latch. The back doors unlocked before they swung open. Cold air rushed inside, carrying with it the sharp sting of salt. The scent filled Arisa's lungs instantly. Beneath it came the sound of water, waves slapping rhythmically against concrete and steel, distant but unmistakable. A dock. Or a ship. Arisa catalogued it all calmly, methodically.
"Alright, let's hurry up with this guy. We don't got much time," the man in the beanie said.
There was a grunt of effort, followed by the wet scrape of something heavy being dragged. Arisa heard the dead weight shift, heard the body catch against the floor before being hauled out. Somewhere beside her, one of the captives broke, quiet sobs slipping through the gag.
"What do we do with him?" the other man asked between strained breaths. The corpse hit the ground outside with a dull, cruel thud.
"Tie him to something heavy," the man in a beanie replied without hesitation.
Arisa couldn't see it, but she didn't need to. The sounds painted the picture clearly enough. Metal scraping. Rope tightening a few steps away. Then Silence. a moment later.. Splash. The sound carried across the dock, loud and final. They had dumped him like waste.
Something warm stirred deep in Arisa's chest, anger. But she kept it buried, controlled. The footsteps returned. "Alright," one of the men said, voice sharp. "Listen carefully. Do what we say, or you end up like that guy."
The words sank into the dark, heavy and threatening. "You're gonna step out one at a time. Single file. Slow," he continued. "We'll take the bags off so we don't have to keep guiding you like dogs. Though where you're going" he chuckled, dark and amused, "..you'll be treated like one anyway."
His partner laughed. But no one else did. "Do anything stupid," the second man added, "hell, even talk stupid, and you get one right between the eyes. We can't afford mistakes. You might be nobodies, but you've got value now, so be grateful."
"Grateful for what?" Arisa's voice cut clean through the tension. Silence fell instantly. Every head turned toward her.
"Not this bitch again," the man in the beanie snapped. "Didn't you hear us? Was knocking you out not enough?"
"How about you get out first," the other added.
Arisa stood immediately, the speed of it caught them off guard. She stepped forward without hesitation, no stumble, no resistance. When she reached the edge of the van, she stepped down smoothly onto the metal surface below, as if she'd never been restrained at all.
That was when they noticed. The man with the beanie reached up and tore the bag from her head. Purple eyes met his. They didn't glare wildly. They didn't plead. They measured him. The man in the hoodie stared at her skull, the place where the rifle had struck her. No blood. No swelling. No mark at all.
"I think her passive's durability," he muttered. "Maybe even healing."
"Doesn't mean shit," the beanie replied, stepping closer. "Passives like that are common. One bullet to the head won't heal."
He leaned in, studying her face. "I like you," he said quietly. "No fear behind those pretty eyes. Shame you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those fuckers across the sea are gonna have a field day with you."
Arisa didn't answer. She just kept staring. Eventually, he looked away. "Get the rest of them out," he ordered. "Line 'em up behind her."
One by one, the rest of them were forced out behind Arisa. Each bag was yanked from a head roughly, fabric tearing away with impatient hands. Faces blinked violently against the open night air. Some gasped. Some staggered. A few turned in slow circles, trying to understand where they were.
The boy stepped out near the front, quiet. His eyes lifted briefly to Arisa's back. What does she plan on doing…? he thought, swallowing hard. The two gunmen positioned themselves, one walking ahead, the other pacing beside the line, rifle low but ready.
Arisa's head moved subtly as she walked. Not frantic. Not obvious. She confirmed what she already suspected. They weren't just on a dock. They were on a cargo ship. Towering steel containers rose in stacked walls around them, casting deep shadows under industrial floodlights. The metal beneath her boots rang hollow with every step. Just behind them sat the van, parked near a wide ramp that connected the dock to the vessel.
She turned her gaze outward toward the shoreline. This port was different from the one she had arrived at when entering Norad. Fewer lights. Fewer patrol units. No visible D.O.P insignias nearby. Almost private, off record. She scanned the distant skyline, reading street signs, building silhouettes, trying to triangulate their location.
A rifle butt suddenly lifted into her peripheral vision. "You're a smart one, aren't you?" the man beside her sneered. "You don't listen very well."
The stock of the rifle rose slightly higher as he prepared to strike her. Then a sudden stumble. The boy tumbled forward, crashing to his knees against the steel deck.
The guard swore and stepped toward him immediately. "You can't walk straight?!" He grabbed the boy by the collar and yanked him upright. "You're holding us up."
He shoved him forward harshly. The boy steadied himself quickly, avoiding eye contact. Arisa's eyes narrowed. "And you," the guard snapped, turning back to her. "Face forward. I'm not gonna keep dealing with you."
She didn't respond to him. Her eyes flicked briefly toward the boy. He gave her the smallest nod. He was fine. Arisa studied him for half a second longer. Did he do that on purpose? Then she turned forward and continued walking.
—-
After several more steps, the group approached three additional men standing near an open shipping container. The metal doors were pulled wide, revealing darkness inside. The air around them smelled faintly of oil, rust… and something else beneath it.
Arisa's eyes moved quickly. All three wore black. Similar to the two escorting them. The first one was shorter, thick around the middle, a slight gut pressing against his belt. A low black cap cast shadow over a face streaked with age. His hair, what little she could see, was a mix of white and black.
But Arisa's eyes didn't linger on his face. They dropped lower. On his belt hung a ring of keys. More than a dozen. Different sizes, different cuts, he was important.
The other two beside him were younger. Taller. Leaner. Almost identical in build. Both wore low caps, their eyes barely visible beneath the brim. Their posture was relaxed, but alert. Arisa memorized their stances. Weight distribution. Dominant hands.
The man with the keys looked up as the line approached. "It's about damn time," he barked. "You had the two in front getting paranoid."
He jerked his thumb toward the bow of the ship. "You better have brought eight."
The man in the beanie stopped first. "Ran into some difficulties," he said casually.
The hoodie wearing man stepped beside him, adding smoothly, "Don't worry. We got eight. All nobodies off the streets. Barely any citizenship records." He smirked. "And it's a good haul." The word lingered in the air like rot.
Arisa stood at the front of the line. Silent. Watching. The man with the keys scanned the line slowly. His gaze moved lazily over each captive… until it stopped at Arisa. It was a long pause before a slow grin crept across his face.
"Damn. Good haul indeed," he muttered. "Might have to take her with me." A few of the others chuckled under their breath.
Arisa didn't react. But she took note. Every word. Every tone. Every weakness. The man turned back toward the open container and smacked the metal door twice. The hollow clang echoed sharply across the deck, blending with the distant hum of cranes and the low churn of engines beneath the ship.
"Unfortunately for you," he continued, pacing in front of them, "you're gonna spend about two and a half days in there. Together."
He jerked his chin toward the container. "You won't be the first. Won't be the last. People have tried kicking, screaming, prying their way out."
He knocked the metal again. "It doesn't work. These things are nearly soundproof. Especially once we're out in open water." The wind shifted, carrying salt spray and diesel fumes. Somewhere above, chains rattled as cargo cranes shifted overhead.
The man extended his hand toward one of the younger guards. The guard reached into his back pocket and handed over two small devices. Kleidi's… But stripped down. Smaller. No glow. No interface shimmer.
The man with the keys stepped toward the two drivers. "Here's your pay. You know the deal. Pull the cash and destroy the Kleidi."
The man in the beanie grinned. "Hell yeah. Might head to Live & Drink! tonight. Gotta celebrate."
His partner shook his head. "You're an idiot."
"Those girls there are worth it," the beanie replied. "Best in Norad." Arisa's ears sharpened. Live & Drink? That's Ericna's bar. She stored the thought away for now.
"That'll bite you on the ass one day," the hoodie muttered.
"Take that somewhere else," the man with the keys snapped. "You're done here."
The two drivers nodded and walked off, still arguing as they climbed back into the van. The engine turned over, headlights sweeping across the deck as it drove down the ramp and disappeared into the port's dim outskirts.
Silence returned. Only waves, wind, and Steel groaning. "Alright," the man with the keys called out. "Inside."
The two younger guards stepped in from either side, shoving the captives forward. Some stumbled. Some sobbed openly now.
"Please— don't put me in there," one man begged.
A rifle butt pushed him forward. "Move."
Arisa walked without resistance. The boy's breathing grew shallow as they neared the container. The darkness inside looked absolute, a black mouth waiting to swallow them whole.
Just before stepping inside, Arisa stopped. She turned her head slightly. "Can I use the bathroom?"
The man with the keys laughed. Loud and sudden, before going quiet. He glanced at his two men, gauging their reactions. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be," he snapped. "Get inside."
"You said two days," Arisa replied calmly. "You expect me to just stand in there like that? Let me take care of it first."
His expression hardened. In two strides he closed the distance and grabbed her hair, yanking her head sharply to the side. "You think you're getting special treatment?" he hissed. "Get inside before I drag you."
Gasps rose behind her. The boy's stomach dropped.
But Arisa didn't flinch. She didn't wince. She didn't even tense. Instead, she looked up at him. Not defiant, Not angry. More like she was interested. And it unsettled him.
Her voice softened. "You can escort me," she said quietly. "I'll make it worth your time."
His grip loosened slightly. A slow, ugly grin stretched across his face. Arisa straightened, smoothing her hair back into place. He pointed toward a cluster of three cargo containers arranged in a U-shape not far from them, partially shielded from view by stacked crates and machinery.
"Go behind there," he said. "I'll meet you."
Arisa began walking. She didn't hurry or look back. But her eyes briefly met the boy's. With her look alone she reassured him. The boy watched on as she continued walking away.
"Alright," the man barked to the rest. "Inside. Now. I don't want to hear another word." The guards shoved the captives into the container one by one.
One of the younger men leaned toward the man with the keys. "You're really doing this again?"
The older man shrugged casually. "Why not?" He adjusted his belt. "She's restrained. And if those idiots got her into a van, she's not doing anything to me."
The younger man frowned. "Something about her feels off."
The man with the keys chuckled. "You're overthinking it." He stepped away, straightening his jacket. "Don't worry. I'll be quick." He cast one last glance toward where Arisa had gone and started walking after her.
The boy was the last to be forced inside. He kept looking toward the shadowed containers. Hope and fear twisted together in his chest.
"What, you know her?" one of the guards sneered.
"Don't worry," the other added. "She'll be right back in here with you." The metal doors slammed shut, its sound rang out across the deck. Inside, darkness swallowed them whole.
—-
The old man walked slowly toward the U shaped containers, boots scraping lightly against steel. The floodlights overhead flickered faintly, casting long shadows that stretched across the deck. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he rounded the container.
Arisa stood with her back to him. Waiting. "Well," he said, loosening his belt with one hand, keys clinking against his hip. "Let's see what you were talking about."
Arisa turned her head just slightly, her voice soft. "Come further in." She gestured subtly toward the darker gap between the containers. "Wouldn't want your friends overhearing."
He chuckled. "They've heard worse," he said. "Trust me." But he stepped closer anyway. Arisa flicked her eyes toward the container wall, guiding him into position. He leaned back casually against the cold steel, still smirking.
She lowered herself in front of him. His breathing changed. Keys jingled as he adjusted himself, anticipation overriding caution. He tilted his head back, and the world snapped.
A sharp, quiet thud echoed against the metal. His face twisted instantly, not in pleasure. In pain. A scream formed in his throat, but it never escaped. Arisa's hand clamped over his mouth, fingers digging into his cheeks with crushing precision.
Her other hand moved with surgical efficiency, pinning him in place but in a way no man would want. She rose slightly, her lips brushing close to his ear. "You make a sound," she whispered, her tone no longer soft. "I'll rip your little dick off."
The warmth drained from his face. Sweat beaded along his temples. His eyes darted wildly, confusion, fear, disbelief. It came crashing together all at once. He miscalculated badly. Arisa's grip tightened. Her purple eyes no longer measured him. They owned him. He understood now that he wasn't in control.
"Now tell me," Arisa said quietly, her voice low and controlled, "what the hell do you plan on doing with these people?"
Her hand loosened slightly over the man's mouth, but the threat in her grip remained clear. "If you even try to yell," she whispered into his ear, "you're done." She removed her hand from his mouth. Her other hand, however, did not move.
"Alright— alright," the man whispered frantically, trying to keep his voice steady. "You got me. Just don't do anything."
"That's not what I asked you." The anger in Arisa's voice was no longer hidden.
The man swallowed hard. "Trafficking," he blurted out quickly. "We're trafficking them. Sending them across the sea."
The wind shifted between the containers, carrying the distant smell of saltwater and oil. Arisa's eyes narrowed. "What do they plan on doing with them?"
"I—I don't know," the man stammered. "We just send them out."
Her grip tightened suddenly. "Don't fucking lie to me." Pain shot through him. His body jerked violently and a scream tried to force its way out of his throat, but Arisa's hand clamped over his mouth again before a sound could escape. His breathing turned ragged.
"Who's in charge of this?" she asked. Her hand loosened just enough for him to speak.
"T-two D.O.P soldiers," he whispered, panic dripping from every word. "We've been working with them for a while. B-but that's all I know, I swear. They just give us a number…and we bring them the items."
Arisa's jaw tightened. "These aren't items," she said coldly. "They're people." Her mind flashed briefly to the boy inside the container. "There's a kid in there."
The man didn't answer. He had nothing to say to that. For a moment Arisa looked away, her eyes scanning the dark steel maze of containers around them. Her thoughts churned. D.O.P soldiers…
The people who were supposed to protect this city. She didn't want to believe it. But it didn't surprise her, after all. She is a product of their wrong doing.
Her gaze returned to the trembling man in front of her. "Where are they?"
"They're in the front helm," he answered immediately. "Both of them." He took a shaky breath. "If I were you… I'd stop right here. They're not the kind of people you want to mess with."
Arisa ignored the warning completely. Her eyes drifted past him again, studying the cargo yard more carefully now. "Are we the only container brought in today?"
The man hesitated. Arisa's grip tightened again. "Answer."
"N-no," he said quickly, nodding toward a nearby container. "Every container with those markings…"
He pointed weakly toward the metal door. "They were brought in today."
Arisa followed his gesture. Her eyes widened slightly. The container they had been forced toward earlier carried the same symbol. So did another. And another. And another. At least a dozen identical markings stared back at her from the steel walls around them. Each one a cage. Each one filled with people dragged from the streets of Norad. The anger inside her chest burned hotter.
"Yooo!" a voice suddenly shouted across the deck. "You done yet?! Hurry up with her already!" The sound snapped through the night like a whip.
Arisa instantly refocused, turning slightly to watch the corner of the container. She listened carefully for approaching footsteps. Nothing. Still too far.
The man she held let out a small chuckle. The voice of his partner had filled him with confidence. Too much confidence. Arisa looked down. She felt something getting hard in her hand.
Her expression changed. She looked back up at him slowly. "You sick fuck."
The man grinned. "I can't help it," he whispered smugly. "You're holding my—"
CRACK! Arisa drove her forehead straight into his face. The impact echoed sharply against the steel container. His skull slammed backward into the metal wall with a dull clang, and his body crumpled instantly to the ground, unconscious.
Arisa crouched down without hesitation. Her fingers moved quickly through his belt, grabbing the heavy ring of keys. Metal jingled softly in the dark. Now she had what she needed.
——
The two men remained by the container, the wind whipping lightly across the deck, carrying salt and the distant hum of engines beneath their feet. One stood relaxed, leaning slightly against the metal. The other wasn't.
"He usually doesn't take this long," the calmer one said, glancing toward the containers. "He's having some fun with her."
The anxious guard shook his head, scanning the dark. "It's taking too long. We're about to move. We don't have time for this."
Then Bang. The sound echoed sharply from around the containers. Something hitting metal. Both men snapped their heads toward it.
"Yo—boss?" the anxious one called out. "Everything good over there?" Silence answered. No footsteps. No voice. Nothing. "Damn it," he muttered. He pointed at his partner. "Stay here."
He pulled the rifle from his back, raising it as he moved forward, boots ringing hollow against the steel deck. Behind him, muffled cries leaked from inside the container.
The guard who stayed behind turned and slammed his fist against the door. "Quiet down in there!" he barked. "No one's coming to help you!"
The words barely left his mouth before his partner disappeared behind him, his soft yell cut short. His body dragged violently around the corner, the rifle clattered to the ground. The remaining guard froze. Then panic hit. He turned sharply, scrambling for his own weapon.
All he saw was the rifle lying on the deck Alone. Before he could raise his gun. Arisa stepped into view. She moved like a released spring. In one motion, she grabbed the fallen rifle and hurled it.
The weapon spun once through the air before It slammed into the guard's chest and shoulder, knocking the breath from him and forcing him backward into the container wall. He staggered, but Arisa was already there. She closed the distance in a blur, her foot planting hard against the metal floor.
She launched upward. Her knee drove forward with Impact. His head snapped violently between her knee and the steel behind him, the sound dull and heavy as bone met metal. The container dented. His body went limp instantly. He slid down the wall, leaving a faint smear as he collapsed at her feet. Silence followed. Only the ocean and wind can be heard.
Inside the container, the captives flinched as the doors suddenly swung open. Light poured in, harsh, blinding. They braced themselves. Expecting to see Arisa thrown inside. Instead she stood alone. Keys in hand. A guard unconscious at her feet.
For a moment, no one moved. No one even understood. "Hurry," Arisa said, her voice sharp. "Get out." That broke them.
They rushed forward in a wave. Fear, confusion, desperation all spilling out at once. Some ran past her without a word. Others paused, breath shaking, whispering hurried thanks before moving. The boy didn't run. He stopped in front of her, eyes wide. Not afraid but amazed.
Arisa lowered herself slightly, meeting him at eye level. She reached for his hand and placed the heavy ring of keys into it. "I need your help." Her voice softened but didn't lose its urgency.
"I have to go to the front. The people running this… I need to stop them." She tightened his grip around the keys. "But I won't have time to free everyone."
Her eyes locked onto his. "You're strong. I can see it."
The boy swallowed. Fear flickered through him. But something else rose with it, Courage. "There are more containers," Arisa continued, glancing briefly across the deck. "Each one with that marking… there are people inside."
Her gaze returned to him. "I need you to open them. All of them." Her tone steadied. "Get them out. Guide them off the ship."
The boy hesitated. His fingers tightened around the keys. Then he nodded. "O-okay."
Arisa's expression softened just slightly. She squeezed his hand. A rare, quiet smile crossed her face. "Good." She stood, already turning. No hesitation, no looking back. She moved toward the front of the ship.
The wind caught her as she walked, carrying the sound of waves and distant machinery around her. Behind her, the boy looked down at the keys in his hand. Then back at her, His fear settled. Replaced by Determination. He turned and ran toward the nearest marked container.
——
Inside the helm of the ship, two towering figures stood over the control panels. Both wore D.O.P attire, but one dwarfed the other.
He was much bigger. His coat was custom, white and blue, heavier than standard issue, hanging open to reveal a massive, sculpted frame. His chest was broad, his abs carved like stone. White jeans fitted tightly around his legs, and resting on his back by a reinforced hook sat a massive war hammer.
The weapon gleamed under the dim helm lights, white steel with glowing blue accents that pulsed faintly, as if alive. He was bald, with a thick beard laced in gray. Behind his coat, barely visible beneath the handle of the hammer, read… Distro.
Beside him stood the other, Leaner. Calmer. His coat was the same color scheme, though lighter. Worn more casually over a white shirt. No visible weapons. His long hair was tied back into a loose knot, strands falling free, blue and orange intertwined like a flickering flame. This one had no beard, clean cut, sharp. Behind his coat read… Flair.
"What's taking those guys so long?" Distro muttered, glancing toward one of the men operating the systems. "We gotta move." He gestured toward the screens. "Check the cameras. See what's going on." The man nodded quickly, fingers moving across the controls.
"They were running late," Flair said calmly, pressing a few buttons of his own. "But they should've signaled by now."
The helm hummed quietly around them, screens flickering, distant engines vibrating through the floor. Everything seemed to be going as planned, until.
"B-boss…" the man at the cameras said hesitantly. "You might wanna see this."
Distro stepped forward, each heavy footstep thudding against the metal floor. Something felt off. He reached the screen. The last container was wide open but empty. One guard slumped beside it.
"…what the fuck…" Distro muttered, his voice lowering. "Flair, we have a pro—"
Before he could finish the helm doors exploded inward with a loud bang. Metal tore from its hinges, one of the doors spinning violently through the room before slamming into a soldier and sending him crashing across the floor.
The entire helm shook, both D.O.P soldiers snapped toward the entrance. Arisa stood there for a moment. Without hesitation, she stepped inside. Her eyes moved between them, slow and deliberate.
"Can't fucking believe this…" she said, her voice low, tight with anger. "Does the D.O.P know what you two are doing?"
"Who the hell is this bitch?" Distro growled, already pulling the war hammer from his back. The weapon dropped into his grip with a heavy clang.
Flair didn't move, he studied her. Eyes narrowing slightly. "I recognize her…" he said quietly. "C.F.R… those eyes…" A faint smirk formed. "This must be Arisa."
"Whatever you two have going on…" Arisa said, her stance tightening, "it ends here."
Flair let out a small laugh, rolling his shoulders. "Sorry, girl," he said, raising his hands slowly. "Wrong place." His palms pressed together. Then snapped forward. "Wrong time."
A violent surge of blue flames erupted from his hands. The fire spiraled outward in a roaring torrent, twisting like a living storm as it tore across the helm toward Arisa.
Her eyes widened. She dropped instantly, flattening herself to the ground as the flames screamed over her. The entire helm lit up blue, shadows warped across the walls. Heat flooded the room instantly, intense, suffocating.
The men inside screamed, the fire ricocheted violently off the metal walls, curling and bending unnaturally, swallowing everything in its path. Arisa pressed herself low, teeth clenched. The heat burned against her skin. Sweat beaded instantly across her face.
He's going to burn everyone in here with him… Her mind raced, Searching, Calculating. Then came the silence, the flames vanished. The blue glow died instantly.
Arisa looked up, but it was too late. Distro was already moving. The hammer came swinging full force. She barely got her arms up before the impact. The sound cracked like thunder.
Her body was launched backward, blasted out of the helm and through the doorway. She was launched so far her body slammed into the opened container, the metal buckling slightly from the force. The entire container slid across the deck several feet, scraping loudly as her body bounced and skidded along the ground.
She stood still on the ground for a second. But Arisa pushed herself up slowly, a pained breath escaping her. Bones shifted, cracked. Snapped back into place along both arms. She lifted her head, blood ran from her nose. One eye stained red. The wind hit her again, cold and sharp.
Distro and Flair stepped out of the scorched helm in front of her. The air around them still shimmered faintly from heat. "Shame," Flair said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "We looked into your file." He tilted his head slightly. "You had potential."
Distro rested the hammer over his shoulder with a heavy thud, stepping forward with a grin. "Looks like your story ends here."
Arisa straightened herself slowly, her breathing steadied. The blood on her face didn't matter. Her wounds were already closing. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Then looked up at them. Her eyes had that purple glow. And they were locked onto them.
Chapter 16: Cargo
END