One Week Later

The Dollohan Factory loomed large in Tselatra’s vision. Lit by more Electrum lights than any other building in all of Ciphus, it stood as a monument to harnessing alchemy through technology. It was a testament to how technology robbed alchemy of its life and wonder. And somewhere inside that heavily-guarded, well-lit structure was her next target.

She’d been given a week to prepare, and she’d tried to make the most of it. Her alchemical pouch was so full, she worried the strap would tear free. Yet it was the least of her weights to bear tonight.

On this side of the fence, she was a citizen. Not one with all the same rights as the majority populace, but still a citizen. Crossing that fence would make her something else. A herald of revolution. A murderer. But that was Tselatra’s role. She was the lighting strike, hitting only the tallest problem in the field.

It was hubris to pretend she could stay on this side of the fence. And how many lightning strikes before the forest went up in flames? But of course, she had to assume that was the point. It was the only way these murders made sense.

Her belt of prefilled cartridges slid into position above her hips. More Necrum and Firum than she wanted, but there would be too many guards inside, and Electrum shots alone probably would not be enough. Pulling her bismuth catalyst from its holster, she loaded it with a Firum cartridge. Grabbing one of nearly a dozen Prism canisters, she bit off the tip and inhaled. The rush of clarity and the warmth of connection to the elements in her pouch were a comfort, but even they were barely keeping the adrenaline and anxiety at bay.

Squeezing the trigger, the catalyst shattered the Firum crystal within the paper cartridge, and raw fire magic gathered at the barrel’s end. Tapping into the Prism in her system, Tselatra focused the energy into a bright blue flame no longer than the tip of a finger. It cut through the chain link fence in front of her like butter. 

There was no rain tonight, the next Storm Day wasn’t scheduled for another three days. She still wore the poncho over her climbing suit anyway. Tucking the hood over her ears helped her feel less visible, even if the Electrum lights used here were a far brighter luminosity than the Firum lighting used nearly everywhere else in the Bulb. Made sense, Electrum battery production was Dollohan’s claim to fame.

The exterior of the building was brick, so she couldn’t simply scale it as she had Lortran Tower. There was however a large metal drainpipe tucked into a corner of the factory that should offer a way up. Unless she was too heavy for it to support. The letter with instructions hadn’t exactly offered her many alternatives.

 Dashing across the open metal grounds felt like a rabbit darting through a clearing while dozens of deerhounds watched hungrily from the treelines. In fact, she could see many of the deerhounds, Snepard guards on their patrols of the grounds with bright lights and imposing rifles. Thankfully, none of them spotted her as she reached the factory’s outer wall.

Staying in a crouch, she crept over to the drainpipe. It was thicker around than her arm, and it moved as she touched it. Great.

Popping a pair of Aurum cartridges in her mouth just in case, she activated the Electrum pack in her climbing suit and began her ascent. The magnets at her palms left dents in the drainpipe as she climbed, and it creaked like it was experiencing a windstorm. Tselatra used anything she could find on the wall to brace her feet, trying not to put her entire weight on the drainpipe.

Passing a bracket held in place by a single screw, Tselatra continued her delicate climb. By the fourth floor, something shifted in the pipe, and her feet had to bunch up against the same wall to compensate. The swaying motion almost made her swallow one of the Aurum cartridges, and she had to gag as she regained her balance. Thankfully, the magnets in her palms held fast, and she was able to pull herself upright. Pushing off a windowsill, she continued her climb. In the moment that followed, the bracket above her ripped free.

With a horrible metallic creak, the drainpipe peeled away from the wall. Feeling it sag beneath her weight, Tselatra pulled against it and deactivated the magnets in her climbing suit, flinging herself at the wall. She caught a windowsill with her fingertips, and the collision with the bricks nearly knocked the wind out of her. She dangled there, allowing the Prism in her system to push away the panic. Looking up, her destination was close. She was only two floors from the top.

Her feet scrabbled against the wall, looking for anything to help take the burden off her aching fingers. A glance downward showed approaching lights. Of course they’d heard the racket. She’d probably woken every Snepard in the district.

Finding the barest hint of a lip of a brick with her foot, she risked reaching for her pack. Two more Aurum cartridges went into her mouth. She crunched them all as she felt her balance slipping. Aiming her mouth downward, she watched the ground zoom away as she latched onto the raw energy seeping through her cheeks and pushed.

Her shoulder caught the edge of the roof, sending her in a spin as she crested the top of the factory. Gravity worked its own magic, and she landed seconds later on her side. Her wrist cried out in pain, sending jolts of fire down her whole arm as she slowly removed it from where her hip had pinned it to the roof. She rotated it with practiced care, but any movement at all was enough to make her breath catch.

Spitting out what bits of paper remained in her mouth, Tselatra used her good hand to load a Curum cartridge in her catalyst. She held the barrel to her wrist and pulled the trigger. Blowing all the rest of the Prism in her system, she latched onto the Life energy and willed it to repair her sprain.

Two minutes later, the glow of the magic finally faded and she tested her wrist. It still hurt, but not to the point that she couldn’t use it. Now it just felt like she’d smacked it on the edge of a lab bench, rather than hyperflexing it under her full weight. It wasn’t perfect, but she needed to save the rest of her Prism and Curum for what was to come.

In Lortran Tower, she’d been able to enter well above the heavily guarded floors and bypass most of the security. This was a much squatter building, and they now had an idea that height was no deterrent for her.

Nearby shouting drew her attention back to where she’d come from. She saw the edges of an Electrum beam scanning the way she’d come up. Well, they certainly knew she was here now. Wonderful. Time to keep moving.

Tselatra prowled atop the roof, heading for a nearby door designed for roof access. The door itself was locked. Reupping her Prism, Tselatra loaded an Aquam cartridge into her catalyst before forming an icepick to unlock the door. Inside, metal banisters lined a concrete stairwell that seemed to go all the way to the ground floor.

Tselatra descended one flight, entering the top floor. The letter had included a map of the factory showing areas where she was most likely to find Dollohan, and more importantly where she was most likely to have the opportunity to kill her.

Passing office after office, Tselatra increased her pace down the frustratingly well lit hall. The wall to her right was almost entirely made of glass, allowing quite the view of the main factory floor. There were several hundred people down there working the night shift. Despite the protective gear they wore, she could tell the majority of workers were Mnolfs.

Security down there didn’t seem as tight. A couple guards were stationed at each major entrance, but they stood in pairs and kept each other occupied.

Then she saw her target.

Rynetta Dollohan walked at the head of a small crowd of Snepards in suits. The group itself numbered close to a dozen, and sported an equal number of well-armed guards. Rynetta herself was guiding them on a tour of the factory floor, another Snepard beside her aiding in her presentation.

Tselatra watched them through the glass, too high up to catch anyone’s attention. She wasn’t sure how much longer Dollohan’s tour would last. She needed to get set up.

Movement at the end of the hall yanked her attention away from the window. A door for another stairwell swung open as three guards entered her floor. Ducking into a crouch, she darted into the closest office. Her bag snagged on the corner of a bookshelf, causing several decorative items to sway. She reached out and caught the closest one, a glass vase with a small bouquet of flowers not more than a day old. Their scent was still fresh.

Just out of her reach, a large metal plate shaped like a disk tilted free of the small wooden stand holding it in position. The stamped placard rolled only a few inches before falling off. Tselatra tried to catch it with a booted foot, but it bounced off and clattered to the floor anyway. She stomped down on the plate, flattening it against the floor and stopping its racket. She needed to calm down, hurrying was only going to make this whole thing harder.

Voices picked up in the hallway outside.

“You hear that?”

“Hey, anyone up here?”

Oh Fahnina. Think, woman, think!

“Janitor!” She yelled. “Sorry, I dropped something while dusting!” 

Hopefully that would keep them from entering the room with weapons at the ready, though their scent was getting stronger and held traces of fear and alarm. Working quickly, Tselatra cracked a small Terrum Crystal with her teeth, dropping it into the vase. The water took on a faint green glow. Reaching out to the Nature magic, Tselatra used more of her Prism to guide the energy into the flowers. Petals perked and expanded as the flowers began to grow with new life. They smelled so lovely, it made her sad to know she was about to ruin them.

Loading a Necrum cartridge, she brought the catalyst up to the flowers and fired. A deep purple mist oozed from the barrel, and Tselatra latched onto it with her Prism. Even brushing up against Void magic with her mind was unpleasant. The energy wanted to break down and decompose whatever it could find. Its desire for decay was almost lifelike, even if it was simply raw energy.

She instructed it to wait, directing it into the flowers. The mist seeped into the petals, blanching them of color and leaving them sickly shades of grey. Despite the visual disappearance of the Necral cloud, Tselatra still caught herself holding her breath instinctively.

Dumping the spent Necrum cartridge to the floor, she kicked it away as she loaded the catalyst with an Electrum cartridge. Eyeing the metal disk on the floor, another idea struck her. Testing the thought, she used a bit more Prism to direct the flow of Electrum in her climbing suit, activating one of the electromagnets in her boot. The disk immediately clung to the boot, resting under her toes like a solid snowshoe.

She had just enough time to fish a Firum cartridge from her belt when the first guard peeked into the room. His rifle bounced against the padded vest he wore, and his eyes immediately narrowed. Hiding the loaded catalyst behind her back, Tselatra grabbed the vase and turned to face him.

He looked her up and down, his own hand reaching for the unmistakable hilt of an Electrum baton. “Where’s your badge? I’m gonna need to see some ID.”

His expression changed as he met her eyes. She could see the moment when he mistook the prismatic glow and assumed her to be a Fractal junkie. His posture relaxed enough to not want to shoot her, but he still looked like he was expecting her to do something stupid. He had no idea.

“Of course,” Tselatra said and risked taking a step closer. “Could you hold this for a second while I find it?” Cracking the Firum cartridge in her hand against the glass, she slipped it into the vase with her thumb and held it out to the guard.

A new scent was produced, confusion, as she handed him the vase of dying flowers. Behind him a second guard peeked into the room, female this time. The first guard took the vase with one hand, other hand resting on his still holstered baton.

Both guards’ expressions darkened as Tselatra tapped her Prism and reached out to the energy leaking from the compromised Firum crystal. Using Prism always made the glow in the eyes sharper, brighter. Neither of them noticed as the water in the vase started to bubble.

The female guard sighed, retrieving a pair of handcuffs from her belt. “How’d she even get up here?”

“These are lovely flowers,” the guard said in a tone that even an infant would doubt, “but we’re going to need you to come with us. So we’re going to take you down to the lobby, and call someone to come help you, ok?”

Tselatra shook her head. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

The second guard stepped into the room, flicking the handcuffs open with a practiced motion. “Don’t make things difficult. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

“You’re wrong,” Tselatra said.

Then she held her breath and stoked the flames. The water in the vase superheated, shredding the flowers as it exploded out of its small glass confines.  The guard screamed, hands passing through a dense cloud of purple pollen and flying up to his face. He clutched at his face, but the damage was done. Besides, the burns should be a lesser concern to him than the Necral cloud he was now breathing in.

Next to him, the second guard recovered from her shock. Dropping the handcuffs, she drew her Electrum baton. With a twist, she activated it and the end began to crackle with blue electricity.

Two could play at that game. In one smooth motion, Tselatra raised her catalyst and fired. The hammer cracked, and she reached out to the jittery mass of energy forming in the barrel. The energy of Electrum reactions always felt rushed, like it was racing to get somewhere. So Tselatra gave it a finish line and a clear path. Through the guard and into the floor. 

Blue lines arced forward, spindly fingers reaching out to embrace a new friend. The woman convulsed as the burst of electricity surged through her body. She curled in on herself, collapsing to the floor.

Beside her, the first guard started to cough like he’d just choked on food. The purple cloud hung heavy around him, and Tselatra took several steps away...