The storm shelter was tucked into the hillside at the edge of the village. The wind howled as we approached.

The woman—Vale, I’d heard Harris call her earlier—knocked sharply on the steel door. A panel slid open, revealing a pair of wary eyes.

“Hey, we’re part of a rescue team,” Vale lied. “We found this kid wandering about, can you let him in?”

The eyes disappeared, and a moment later, the door groaned open just enough for us to slip through.

Inside, the shelter was packed. People crowded together on benches along the walls, their faces drawn and anxious. The air was thick with the smell of damp clothes and fear, and the low hum of whispered conversations filled the space. 

Children clung to their parents, their wide eyes darting toward the ceiling every time the thunder cracked.

Harris motioned for me to keep moving, and we wove through the crowd until we reached a relatively empty corner near the back. A man in a reflective vest nodded to Vale and Harris as we passed, his face tight with tension.

“Stay here,” Harris said, pointing to an open spot on a bench. His tone left no room for argument.

I sat down, clutching the device Vale had given me earlier. It was small and lightweight, with no visible buttons or markings. I turned it over in my hands, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Across the shelter, Vale and Harris were having a quiet but heated discussion. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their body language spoke volumes—Vale’s calm, measured gestures clashing with Harris’s sharp, impatient movements. Whatever they were arguing about, it was clear they weren’t on the same page.

My attention shifted to the other people in the shelter. Most of them looked like locals—families, shopkeepers, fishermen. They didn’t seem to notice me, their focus locked on the storm outside and whatever fate it might bring.

A few minutes later, Vale returned, her expression unreadable. She sat down next to me, leaning in close enough that her voice wouldn’t carry to the others.

“Just reminding you one more time, you need to understand that what you saw out there is classified,” She whispered, “You can’t talk about it at all, not to anyone.”

“I get it,” I said, my voice low. “But... I still want to know more. About the Agency. About what you do. About the entities.”

“That’s why I gave you the device so I can contact you. Like I said earlier, I’ll explain more when the storm is over, and maybe I’ll consider helping you get into the Agency,” she said. “But please realize that this isn’t a game. People die because of what we deal with. If you think you can just walk into this world because it sounds interesting—”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I interrupted, my voice firmer than I expected. “I’m not looking for excitement. I’m looking for a purpose. You said the storms are caused by those... rift entities, right? If I can help stop that—help protect people—why wouldn’t I?”

Her expression softened, just slightly. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “We’re not heroes, Ben. Our job is to neutralize the entities before they cause too much damage. That means doing whatever it takes—even if it’s messy.”

Harris returned before I could say anything else, his scowl deeper than ever. “The entity’s still active,” he said to Vale. “No reports on its whereabouts at the moment, but it’s only a matter of time.”

We sat in silence as the minutes stretched on, each one marked by the unrelenting roar of the storm outside. I noticed the way people glanced at the ceiling, their unease growing with every distant rumble of thunder.

“Alright, I’ve just gotten word on a potential lead,” Harris declared suddenly, breaking the silence, “Let’s go.”

Vale suddenly crouched down in front of me, her expression surprisingly gentle.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she said, her voice low. “If you’re serious about joining us, keep that device with you. I’ll contact you when this is over and explain the next steps. But understand this, Ben, once you’re in, there’s no going back.”

I nodded, gripping the device tightly. “I understand.”

She gave me a small, almost reluctant smile before straightening and heading back toward the door. I watched her go, the weight of her words settling over me.

The storm didn’t let up. If anything, the howling wind and pounding thunder seemed to grow fiercer with each passing minute, pressing against the shelter walls like they were trying to claw their way inside.

Time crawled in the crowded room. I kept glancing at the device Vale had handed me, its smooth, featureless surface cool in my palm. 

It didn’t make sense—how was I supposed to contact her if it didn’t even have buttons? I guess she had specified that she would be contacting me, so it was possible that the device only could receive messages, not send them.

I let out a slow breath and leaned back against the cold concrete wall, trying to push down the uneasy feeling that had settled in my chest. Most of the shelter’s occupants looked exhausted, their heads bowed or their eyes closed as they waited for the storm to pass. 

A little boy sat near the door, clutching a stuffed animal and watching the adults with wide, fearful eyes.

I wished I could do something—say something—to make the tension in the room less suffocating. But what could I say? It wasn’t like I could stand up and announce, Don’t worry, the weird storm is being caused by a fire-throwing girl who’s being hunted by a secret agency!

I froze.

A flash of red caught my eye, just for a moment, before it disappeared into the crowd.

No. It couldn’t be.

I straightened, my heart pounding as I scanned the room. The shelter was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering occasionally, but it wasn’t hard to spot her. She was sitting near the far wall, hunched over with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her fiery red hair—impossible to miss even in this crowd—was damp and tangled, falling over her face like a curtain.

Rio.

My stomach churned as I stared at her. She looked... different than she had in the clearing. Smaller, somehow. Vulnerable. The fire that had danced so confidently around her hands was nowhere to be seen, replaced by an exhaustion that seemed to weigh her down like lead.

What was she doing here?

My first instinct was to keep my distance. Vale had been very clear about what Rio was—an anomaly, something that didn’t belong in this world. And yet, as I watched her, she didn’t look like some dangerous creature that needed to be neutralized. She looked scared.

I glanced at the device in my hand, my grip tightening. Vale would want to know where Rio was. Now I just had to hope that this device could actually call her.

I turned the device over in my hands, searching for some kind of clue on how to activate it.

“Come on,” I muttered under my breath, shaking it lightly.

To my surprise, the device responded. A soft hum vibrated through my fingertips, and a faint blue light flickered to life on its surface.

“Uh, Vale?” I whispered, feeling ridiculous.

The light pulsed once, and her voice crackled faintly through the device.

“Ben?” she said, her tone sharp. “What is it?”

I glanced over my shoulder, making sure no one was listening. “She’s here,” I said quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Rio,” I said, keeping my voice low. “She’s in the shelter. I just saw her.”

There was a pause, followed by the faint sound of Vale muttering something I couldn’t make out.

“Don’t approach her,” she said finally. “Keep an eye on her, but don’t engage. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“How long?” I asked.

“Half an hour, maybe less. Stay put, and don’t do anything reckless.”

The line went dead before I could respond. I slipped the device into my pocket, my pulse racing.

Don’t engage. Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one sitting in a shelter with a rift entity just a few feet away.

I hesitated, glancing back toward Rio. She hadn’t moved, her head still bowed as if she were trying to disappear into the crowd.

What was I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait for Vale and Harris to show up and... what? Capture her? Kill her?

Before I could stop myself, I was moving.

I didn’t know what I was going to say, or why I was even doing this, but my feet carried me across the shelter until I was standing just a few feet away from her.

“Hey,” I said softly.

Her head snapped up, and for a moment, I thought she might attack me. Her bright blue eyes were sharp and alert, darting toward the door before landing back on me.

“You,” she said, her voice low and wary.

“Me,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt.

Her gaze narrowed. “What do you want?”

I hesitated, glancing around the room to make sure no one else was paying attention. Most of the shelter’s occupants were too focused on the storm to notice us.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” I said finally.

She stared at me like I’d just said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” I said. “I mean, you’ve got a bunch of people tracking your every move and possibly trying to kill you.”

I sat down on the bench beside her, keeping my distance but close enough that we could talk without raising our voices.

“I saw what happened out there,” I said carefully. “With those agents.”

Her expression darkened. “They won’t stop,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. “They never do.”

“They think you’re dangerous,” I said. “Are you?”

Her eyes snapped back to mine, and for a moment, I thought she might get up and leave. But then she sighed, leaning back against the wall and running a hand through her damp hair.

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

There was something raw in her voice, something that made my chest tighten.

“Why?” I asked.

She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the far wall. “Because they won’t give me a choice,” she said finally. “It’s always ‘fight or die’ with them. What would you do?”

What would I do? Run? Fight? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what her life must have been like, constantly hunted and cornered, treated as a danger simply for existing.

“I don’t know,” I admitted quietly. “I’ve never had to make that kind of choice.”

Her eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and I got the sense she was sizing me up, trying to decide if I was worth talking to or if I was just another threat she needed to deal with.

“Well,” she said finally, leaning back against the wall, “be glad you don’t have to make those kinds of decisions then.”

I frowned, glancing around the shelter. The noise of the crowd felt distant now, like the storm had created a bubble around our conversation. “Is that what this is for you? No choice?”

She shrugged, her posture relaxed but her eyes wary. “What do you think? You saw them out there. Those suits don’t show up to chat.”

“They think they’re protecting people,” I said carefully.

“From me,” she shot back, her tone laced with bitterness.

“Well... yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, you did throw fire at them.”

Her lips curled into a wry smile. “They started it.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, though the sound felt strange in the tension-filled room. “Okay, fair point.”

“Why are you here?” I asked after a moment, keeping my voice low. “In the shelter, I mean. If they’re hunting you, wouldn’t this be the last place you’d want to be? There’s tons of people here.”

She hesitated, glancing around as if to make sure no one else was listening. “You ever hear the phrase ‘hide in plain sight’?”