Timeline: During Elijah inflictration in Jerkins base
Location: Nexus Point Rooftop / Fenwick District Safe House
The morning sun beat down on the rooftop, its rays glinting off the metal surfaces of the crane and the waiting vehicles below. Gerry stood at the controls, his hands moving with practiced precision, his eyes fixed on the cargo swinging beneath the massive arm.
The crate descended slowly, its surface warm even from a distance. Faint symbols etched along its edges pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow—a heartbeat of ancient power that seemed to vibrate through the air. Gerry could feel it in his chest, a resonance that made his teeth ache.
This is it, he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of grim satisfaction. This is what we came for.
Below, the immigrant workers moved with mechanical precision, their faces blank, their eyes glassy. They were the ones from Ashwick corridors—the ones Elijah had placed Xototl within. They loaded the crates onto the trucks without speaking, without questioning, without hesitation. Their movements were synchronized, almost choreographed, like puppets dancing on invisible strings.
Gerry watched them, his expression one of quiet calculation.
Elijah's done it again, he thought. He's turned these people into puppets. And they don't even know it. They have no idea what's inside them, what's controlling them.
A crate swung past him, close enough that he could see the symbols more clearly. They seemed to shift and writhe, like living things trapped beneath the surface. Gerry's hand rested on it briefly, feeling the vibration that hummed through his fingers. It was warm, almost hot, and it pulsed with a rhythm that seemed to match his own heartbeat.
The Aetherium Loom, he thought. Whatever it is, it's powerful. And now it's ours.
He guided the crane with steady hands, lowering the crate onto the bed of the nearest truck. The workers secured it without a word, their movements quick and efficient. The ropes they used seemed to absorb the warmth, their surfaces darkening as they tightened around the crate.
Just a few more, Gerry thought. Then we're done here.
He glanced at his watch, his jaw tightening. The next shipment would arrive in thirty minutes. He needed to be ready.
---
The apartment was a study of walls that were painted a muted gray, the furniture a mismatched collection of thrift store finds and IKEA staples. A small kitchenette sat in one corner, its counter cluttered with instant ramen packets and energy drink cans. The floor was covered in a thin layer of dust, and the curtains were drawn, casting the room in a dim, yellowish glow. The air smelled faintly of stale pizza and cheap perfume.
Elias Chen sat on the floor, his wrists bound with thick rope, his ankles tied together. His expression was one of exhausted frustration, his glasses slightly askew, his hair a mess. He had been here for two days, and his patience was wearing thin. The ropes had left marks on his skin, and his shoulders ached from being in the same position for so long.
Kia stood at the window, her phone in hand, her thumb scrolling through Vidflash with practiced ease. She was a compact young woman with sharp features and an attitude that could cut glass. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wore an oversized hoodie that seemed to swallow her small frame. The hoodie had a faded logo on it—some obscure band from a few years ago that nobody remembered anymore.
She was the handler assigned to watch Elias. And she was clearly bored out of her mind.
"Ugh," she muttered, her voice carrying a note of exaggerated irritation. "This is so boring. Do you know how many hot guys are posting on Vidflash right now? And I'm stuck here babysitting a loser."
Elias's eye twitched. "I'm not a loser. I'm a victim of circumstance. There's a difference."
Kia snorted, not bothering to look up from her screen. "Sure you are. And I'm the queen of Crestwood."
She glanced at him, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Speaking of which—do you need to use the bathroom? Because you look like you're about to burst. Your face is all red and your legs are twitching like you're doing the potty dance."
Elias's face flushed a deep crimson. "I—I mean—I don't—"
"Just say yes or no." Kia waved her hand dismissively. "I don't have all day. I've got like fifty memes to scroll through and a Vidflash drama to catch up on. The latest season of 'Crestwood Heights' dropped and I'm dying to see what happens."
Elias's jaw tightened. "Fine. Yes."
Kia sighed dramatically, like she was being asked to perform the most arduous task in human history. She rose from the couch with exaggerated slowness, stretching her arms above her head.
"Ugh. Fine. Come on, potty boy."
She walked over to him, her movements unhurried. She untied the rope around his ankles, keeping his wrists bound. Her fingers were quick and efficient, the ropes loosening with practiced ease.
"Don't try anything stupid," she said, her voice carrying a note of warning. "I'm right outside. And I have pepper spray. And I'm not afraid to use it. I've been pepper-sprayed before and it's not fun, but I'll do it again."
Elias muttered something under his breath as the door closed behind him. He turned to look at the room—a small, cramped space with a toilet, a sink, and a tiny window.
The window, he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of hope. I could fit through that. Barely. Maybe if I…
He moved toward it, his bound hands reaching for the latch. His fingers fumbled with the lock, his heart racing. He pushed it open, the cool air rushing in. He stuck his head out, his eyes scanning the alley below. The drop was about eight feet to the ground. There was a dumpster nearby that could break his fall.
It's not that far, he thought. I could probably make it.
He began to climb onto the sink, his feet slipping on the porcelain. His bound hands made it difficult, his balance precarious. The window was narrow, and he had to squeeze his shoulders through. For a moment, he was stuck, his body half in, half out. His glasses caught on the frame and nearly fell off.
And then he fell.
He landed on the floor with a loud thud, his head hitting the wall with a painful crack. He groaned, his vision swimming. The wind had been knocked out of him. For a moment, he lay there, gasping for breath.
The door swung open. Kia stood in the doorway, her phone raised, a grin spreading across her face.
"Say cheese," she said, snapping a photo.
Elias's eyes widened. "What are you—"
Kia turned her phone around, showing him the image. It was a close-up of his face, his expression one of pure embarrassment, his glasses askew, his hair a mess. A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead, and his mouth was open in mid-groan. The caption beneath read: #LoserBoy #BowelIssues #CantEvenEscape #WindowFail #EpicFail
Elias's face turned crimson. "Delete that! Right now!"
Kia laughed, her voice carrying a note of genuine amusement. "No can do, loser boy. This is going straight to Vidflash. It's going to go viral. You'll be famous. People will be making memes about you. You'll be the face of failure for the next decade."
Elias lunged forward, his bound hands reaching for her phone. But Kia was faster. She stepped back, holding the phone out of reach.
"Try to escape again," she said, her voice carrying a note of playful menace. "And I'll post it. I'll tag your college. I'll tag your mom. I'll tag your grandma. I'll tag your cat if you have one."
Elias's face contorted with anger. He launched himself at her, his body colliding with hers. They tumbled to the floor, a tangle of limbs and frustration.
Kia shrieked, her phone flying out of her hand. "Get off me, you idiot!"
Elias's hands were still bound, but he managed to pin her down with his weight. His face was inches from hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Delete. That. Photo," he said, his voice carrying a note of desperate fury.
Kia stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, neither of them moved. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest.
Then she burst out laughing.
"You're pathetic," she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine amusement. "And I kind of respect that. Most people would just give up. But you? You keep trying. It's almost admirable."
Elias's face flushed. He pushed himself off her, his body trembling with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
"This isn't funny," he muttered.
Kia sat up, brushing off her hoodie. "It's a little funny. You have to admit—that was a pretty epic fail. I mean, the way you got stuck in the window? Classic."
She picked up her phone, examining the screen. The photo was still there, Elias's mortified face frozen in time.
"Fine," she said, her voice carrying a note of reluctant concession. "I won't post it. But only because you made me laugh. And because I'm feeling generous."
Elias stared at her, his expression one of disbelief. "You're serious?"
Kia shrugged. "Don't push your luck. I might change my mind."
---
Elias sat on the floor, his bound hands resting in his lap. His expression was one of exhausted resignation. The rope had left deep marks on his wrists, and his shoulder ached from the fall.
Kia was back on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Her lips were curved into a small smile.
"You know," she said, her voice carrying a note of casual curiosity. "You're not as boring as I thought you'd be. I was expecting a total wet blanket. But you've got some fire in you. It's kind of cute."
Elias snorted. "Thanks. That's a huge compliment. I'll treasure it forever."
Kia glanced at him, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Don't let it go to your head. It's still not enough to get you out of here."
The apartment was quiet, the tension between them slowly fading.
Elias stared at the window, his mind racing with thoughts of escape.
I'll get out of here, he thought. Somehow. Someway. I'll find a way out.
But for now, he was trapped.
And Kia was watching his every move.