“Shit, shit, shit…!”

Desperately, one by one, I put away the floating orbs returning them to their liquid silver original state, storing them in glass tubes.

From afar, I could hear more explosions. Panic, roars.

The entire city trembling.

Even with all windows closed, my chamber sealed in an empty building, I could hear.

Her voice.

“It is futile to resist. We have pinpointed your location, closed these Blocks, and captured your accomplices. You have five minutes to exit the building of your own volition.”

Alantra spoke with the tiniest hint of contempt, something that was almost imperceptible. Yet I could tell—I could smell it from afar.

From outside, I heard dragons approaching. Yet those dragons were being ridden by the authorities. Because every other dragon had either been put to sleep or been restricted and locked away.

As I threw everything inside my bag, I cut myself on a piece of metal that I didn’t even know what it was.

Never, not even once, did the authorities blow up the underground to make an arrest.

They would barely interfere with the illegal races, since they were still under the big four criminal organizations. Unless the person had rotten shit for brains, anyone could tell the authorities had some kind of agreement with the organizations.

So why were they here?

Why this day?

Why me?

I kicked my chair hard, sending it flying against the wall. Breaking three of its legs.

“Ringleader Jackal, you have one minute to leave the building under a peaceful approach.” Her voice was defiant, almost like a dare.

I let out a scream, the frustration and rage tearing their way up my throat enough to make it bleed and hurt.

Of course I had escape routes. The problem was the closest one had been blocked by the wreckage, from when they blew up the ceiling.

Trying to outrun a dragon rider enforcer was a fool’s endeavor at best, a desperate death sentence at worst.

Alantra’s team had at least fifteen riders—it was best to assume they also had foot officers as well. She said they had closed my Blocks, and although it was not an impossible thing to do, it was fated to have some blind spot or small crack they didn’t cover.

This underground city was practically my home. I had grown up in the slums before moving here, yet I had lived on these streets practically my entire life.

Those shitty bastards couldn’t know these Blocks better than me.

I took a deep breath, trying to ground myself. It was difficult to calm my nerves—to soothe the untamed anger that kept crushing against my entire being like baleful waves. Yet I couldn’t lose control at this moment.

I had to escape first.

After grabbing my bag, I gave one last glance across the room to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. Then I started to run.

A cape and hood concealed my face alongside the jackal mask, my clothes as dark as they could be, and as I escaped through one of the broken windows, my eyes kept wandering and glancing in all directions. My heart racing and trembling against my chest.

“Let the records show that you were warned accordingly, Jackal.” Alantra’s voice, as she spoke, was a haunting mockery. As if she wanted me to go against their orders, just so she could humiliate me even more once she caught me.

If she caught me.

The building I had been not even ten seconds before blew up, the explosion followed by roars and cries. To cause such an explosion, they had to have a high-breed dragon with either a fire or air attribute.

Or a bloody good alchemist.

Avoiding the riders was even more challenging than I had anticipated. I had to crawl in the dirt and lurk in narrow alleys like a dirty rat, hiding at the faintest noise, freezing in the spot at the weakest breeze. From afar, I kept hearing Alantra giving orders and directions, coordinating the entire squad’s movements. Wasn’t she too young to be a leader?

It felt like hours, but perhaps not even ten minutes had passed when I reached the border to another Block.

Officers in their immaculate white and gold uniforms stood in lines, blocking the passages. Between houses and buildings, I saw dragon rider enforcers, some of them carrying enhanced weapons.

I cursed under my breath, leaning my back against the cold stone wall.

Suddenly my eye caught a faint glow coming from my wrist. In my haste, I had forgotten to destroy my crystal. I was about to throw it away when the message displayed on the black stone made my eyes jump.

<Use the manholes>

It didn’t show the sender.

It was as if a dark mist cleared inside my mind, memories connecting with each other as I spotted a manhole across the street. It was in an alley, yet I would have to go out in the open for a few seconds regardless of the path I chose.

Most people forgot about the underground’s sewer system. It was practically useless, after all. They only worked, partially, on the residential Blocks which consisted of 6% of the city. The remaining of the sewers were practically abandoned and forgotten, an invisible afterthought.

I had a few potions with me—ones that could help create some distractions—yet I had to use them sparingly. Wisely.

They were too difficult to acquire, even more for people with my background.

As I debated which one I should use, if any, a blinding light poured down on me followed by an amplified voice.

“Jackal’s location spotted. Deploy operation 3-6-9.”

Before she had even finished her sentence I was already running, hearing the shouts and roars following me close. If I went down the manhole, they would see and keep chasing me. I had to use them when there were no eyes on me.

As I entered the alleys, ducking and dodging from whatever they were shooting at me, my right leg got hit. I felt the projectile pass through my calf, the flesh burning as the pain intensified with each step I took.

Then the enforcers caught up with me.

I was about to turn right when a lightning ray was shot through the entire street. I bent my body, throwing my weight down so I could slide beneath it, feeling the piercing electricity brushing against my clothes while it sent shivers through my skin.

The top of my hood grew hot, the scent of burnt fabric filling the space. I had no time to catch my breath as another dragon came flying only a few meters from me. Yet when I had to avoid both a howling gust of ice and a poisonous goo—one that almost got my bag stuck—I realized there were more of them ahead of me.

Officers approaching and closing possible escape routes, enforces carrying weapons, enforces riding dragons.

They were all driving me into a corner.

I went to one of the main streets, the space wide and out in the open with high buildings and space. I had no idea where I was running to, and even if I did, it would make no difference.

Before I even realized, I was being pinned on the ground—the air knocked out of me.

Her hair fell on me like silver cascades, some red locks blending and mixing here and there. Yet her voice was like a warm flame, low and inviting at first but prone to burn at the slightest touch.

“You should’ve listened to me when you had the chance.” Her voice was not as harsh as her words, her body pressing against my back as she twisted my arms. There was a sweet fragrance that filled the air. To me, it felt like poison—a suffocating stench that would ever remind me of my own descent and failure.

“Great job, captain! Your aim was perfect, I’m impressed.”

That crazy woman had jumped from her dragon just to pin me down. 

I glanced around, my mouth hanging open when I realized there were floating orbs all around the area. Transmission orbs.

These bastards…they are recording me.

All that time, they had been broadcasting this entire raid as if it were a damned show. As if it were fun to see me fight a losing battle. As if watching Jackal squirm under their feet was the spectacle of a lifetime.

I bit my lip, my eyes burning as I fought back tears.

Those people, they were treating me like a low criminal. Something less than a vermin.

If they wanted the real culprits, they had to look inside their ranks. Inside the prestigious and fancy academies that kept using underground races as their golden fishing pond, or within the big families who backed and supported all underground operations.

Not me.

I was just someone exploiting their corrupted and sullied system. Someone making money like everyone else, using the tools I had in my set in my favor. I was but a small coil who could only decide how fast or slow I moved, helping to turn the gears and set everything in motion.

I was not the one controlling the machine.

None of us were.

“I will make you pay for this…” I didn’t realize I had spoken out loud until Alantra replied.

“It will be something difficult to do, once you are behind bars.”

Blood trailed down my lips, tears finally streaming down my face.

I would definitely make them pay.

I would make her pay.

Before she could remove my mask and reveal my identity to all those who were watching number one Jackal’s arrest, a loud bang echoed in the area followed by screams and shots. The ground below me shook and grumbled, and if it was coming to life, and soon enough me and Alantra were being thrown up in the air.

Clouds of dense smoke covered the area, and though I could barely see a thing, I knew the dragons were growing restless by their roars and shrieks, followed by frustrated grunts from their riders.

I had no idea who or what had been responsible for this, and it didn’t matter.

I did not stall for time.

Before Alantra could get up I was already on the move, my right leg throbbing and aching. My mask provided me some protection from the smoke, yet not much. I had to hold my breath in order to not start coughing and reveal my position.

Soon enough I found a manhole, its form almost impossible to spot amidst the wreckage and its faded shape. I opened and closed its lid in a hurry, climbing down the ladder with quick steps.

At some point I slipped, the strength in my legs long gone while the blood that ran from my right leg made my foot slippery. I tried to hold on to the ladder, but before I knew my body was leaning backwards as gravity pulled me down without mercy.

The fall wouldn’t kill me. But it would hurt.

I closed my eyes with fear, praying I wouldn’t break too many bones—that I would still be able to walk or even run for a few more hours if I had to.

However, the impact never came. Much less the pain.

Instead, I found myself falling into strong arms.

“Seeing you like this, you resemble a runaway princess. I must say, it’s not the worst look for you, Vex.”

Staring deep into my eyes while holding me in his arms was a man I never thought I would see in those unsavory, forgotten sewers.

Angus Quennin.

And to my amusement, he was wearing a black animal pelt.