Rain pelted Tselatra. Even inside her poncho, her fur was already soaked through. Lightning flashed behind her, casting her canid reflection in the glass she clung to. Thunder cracked a moment later, and Tselatra flinched despite herself.

It was a foolish reaction, she knew. She’d grown up in Ciphus. The capital’s lightning rod drew every strike within the Bulb, without exception. She knew that logically. That still didn’t make her feel any less nervous about climbing the outside of a metal high-rise on a Storm Day.

A comforting blue glow shone through the reaction window of the gloves on Tselatra’s climbing suit. She’d included traces of Firum, so they would glow red when the reaction was running low. There was no red showing yet. She did the mental calculations anyway.

Gripping her sleeve in her teeth, she slid it back far enough to check her wristwatch. She had already been climbing for nearly ten minutes. If she’d gotten her mixtures right, that gave her six more minutes. If she was off, that could be as few as four. Maybe less. She was expecting red when she was down to two minutes.

Cold rain drove into her face as she risked a glance upwards. Her goal, the twenty-second floor, was just ahead. Redirecting the electrical magic flowing through her climbing suit, she disengaged the electromagnet in the palm of her glove, freeing her hand from the wall.

She reached up to the next metal crossbeam before powering the electromagnet again, sticking her hand firmly. She repeated this with each limb in succession, the world’s slowest spider crawling up the world’s largest water spout. Being washed out from this height could be fatal.

Wind ripped around her poncho, the scheduled evening thunderstorm threatening to tear her free. Yes, she had several Aurum crystals ready, but she hoped they would remain a last resort. She needed them for her exit.

Tselatra’s gloves glowed red as she reached her goal. The windows of the twenty-second floor spread out in both directions. She could see the table and chairs of a large conference room within. The room’s door was open, showing a darkened hall beyond.

That would work. Security would be present, but was supposed to be much thinner this high up the tower.

Unclamping one glove from the building, she reached for her alchemical pouch. Before she could fish out an Aquam crystal, she spotted a light moving in the hallway. No time to wait for them to wander off, her current reaction was running on fumes. She had to find a new entry point.

Detaching her boots, Tselatra relied on her arms as she shimmied sideways along the top of the windowframe. She froze as the source of light reached the conference room. A lone Snepard security guard peeked into the room, the whiskers on his feline face twitching as he checked the room by the dim glow of a Firum torch. The handheld device emitted a beam of faint orange light that flickered as it moved. His beam stopped just shy of where it would have illuminated her, and she breathed out a sigh of relief as the guard left the doorway and returned to his patrol.

The intensity of red peeking through her suit’s reaction window was growing. She could swap Electrum crystals, but that felt like a waste. You couldn’t stop a reaction once you’d started it. Best to save those for her exit, in case things went south. She still had time…probably.

Choosing to trust the math, she continued her shimmy, arriving at a window to a much smaller office. Her time to be selective about entry points had come and gone. De-electrifying a glove, she grabbed an Aquam crystal and smashed it against the slick glass. The reaction was immediate, a burst of blue and white light forming beneath her palm. Despite the rain pelting her sensitive nose and the uncomfortable cold of pressing her hand against an Aquam reaction, Tselatra focused her will with the precision of a surgeon.

She felt the cold embrace of water magic wash against her senses. The energy wanted a place to go. It wanted to disperse, to join the raindrops around it. Tselatra held on to it, feeling her hand start to go numb. Though she constrained the magic, she also redirected it. It listened to her will.

Ice spread out from the broken crystal to cover the window. More importantly, it sapped heat from the window at an incredible rate. Raindrops froze as they struck the icy surface. Warmth returned to Tselatra’s hand as she pulled it away from the window. Having received her direction, the magic would continue to work until the energy of the Aquam reaction was fully spent.

There was dangerously little blue left visible through the reaction window in her glove. Reaching into her alchemical pouch, she grabbed an Aurum crystal. Positioning it between her teeth, she braced her feet against the icy glass. The electromagnets in her gloves held her to the windowframe for now, but their energy source was almost depleted.

She bit down into the crystal, tasting sand as it shattered. A rush of wind pushed against her cheeks and tongue, seeking escape. Focusing her will into containing the wind magic, she kept it trapped in her mouth for now. She only needed a few seconds.

Kicking off the frozen glass, her body swung backwards, hinging where her hands still stuck to the metal frame. For that brief moment, she was weightless, caught between her own momentum sending her one way and gravity pulling her back the other. She knew better than to look down from this height.

Keeping her eyes on the window, she felt gravity pull her back towards it. She willed a shape into the wind magic, then released the energy. It formed behind her, pressing into her back with an incredible gusting force. Her booted feet slammed into the frozen window, which shattered inward in a shower of frost, rain, and glass.

Not a moment too soon as her Electrum reaction ran out. The gloves detached from the window frame, and her momentum carried her inside the room. Tselatra bounced off the top of the desk, scattering pens, papers, and several picture frames. She hit the floor, and a coffee mug shattered beside her.

She groaned. That had been unnecessarily close. Yes, Electrum crystals were a pain to prepare in such large quantities, but maybe next time it would be worth over-preparing.

Sitting up, she checked herself. Her leg was a bit bruised from the impact, but not enough to warrant the use of a Curum crystal. Better to save those for the fight ahead. From the information she’d been given, Lortran’s personal security staff was well armed.

Water dripped from her poncho hood, bouncing off her nose and tickling her whiskers. Cold glass crunched beneath her as she got back to her feet. Normally, she hated wearing boots, but today she was glad to have them. With as much glass as she tended to break these days, it would be nice to skip the need to pick glass shards out of her foot pads when she got home.

Tselatra’s tail drooped under the water weight. Gripping the poncho, she shook herself vigorously. Water came off, but it didn’t really help. Besides, she was going to leave a trail tonight, whether she wanted to or not. She sniffed at her arm. The result wasn’t quite wet dog, but it was still…ugh. Fresh rain had done little to dampen how much she reeked of sweat.

A small mirror on the desk drew her attention, confirming that she looked about as flattering as she smelled. Her dark hair was so saturated with rain, it looked greasy as it disappeared inside her hood. Her russet and charcoal fur laid flat against her skin, exposing her sleek canid muzzle and cheeks gone sallow with months of grief and anxiety.

Seedmother, she was a mess.

A faint prismatic glow danced inside her electric blue irises, like light shone through windows made of sapphire. It was the only indicator of any life and vibrancy left in her. It didn’t flicker. It didn’t waver.

Tselatra would do what needed to be done. No matter the risk. No matter the cost. After months of this Fahnina, she hardly recognized herself. Would her family…?

Her ears perked up underneath her poncho as a voice called out from the hall. “Hello?”

Snepards had excellent hearing, even better than hers. That was a problem. She’d hoped that the thunderstorm outside was providing enough ambient noise that the guards wouldn’t hear her breaking the glass.

No such luck.

The orange glow of a Firum torch licked at the doorway. Reaching down into her alchemical pouch, Tselatra removed her combat belt and fastened it around her waist. Little loops held a selection of dozens of crystals, all seven types, each one packaged in a paper cartridge no larger than a bullet.

Tselatra could feel her adrenaline slipping, and with it her focus and clarity. That was also a problem. Fishing around in a side pocket of her pouch, she came out with a small metal canister that fit in her palm. She bit the tip off the end of the bottle of compressed Prism, breathing in deep as the dense aerosol filled her lungs. Sharpened focus and clarity returned in a familiar rush, her body welcoming the substance it had grown up with.

Footsteps neared the room Tselatra was hiding in. Tossing the empty Prism canister aside, she drew her catalyst: a small bismuth handgun. It was a break-barrel, designed for activating a reaction in a single crystal at a time—a tool her mentor had given her in the vain hope that Tselatra would remember safety while weaponizing magic.

Flipping the latch at the top, she snapped the barrel open. A small blue crystal rattled around inside, the other reason she’d had so little Electrum to spare for the ascent. She wanted to stay as non-lethal tonight as possible. One casualty was already going to be too many, but her hands were tied.  The alternative was absolutely a non-option.

Reassured that she had in fact remembered to load her catalyst this time, Tselatra snapped the barrel closed and stepped out into the hallway. The guard raised his torch in time to see her already firing. At her will, electricity shot forward, its blue grasping fingers striking the guard in the chest. The Snepard man’s rounded triangular ears laid flat and the snow grey fur on his long, tube-like tail frizzed out in all directions as he convulsed. His cry of alarm cut off as he collapsed to the ground. The Firum torch he’d been carrying hit the floor and rolled, coming to a stop against the wall and casting the hallway in a flickering orange glow.

Breaking the barrel of her catalyst open, Tselatra dumped the remnants of the spent crystal cartridge out on the floor, before reloading a fresh Electrum crystal. Eyes forward, she stepped over the unconscious body of the feline guard.

Ignoring the conference room she’d seen earlier, Tselatra headed for the heart of the high rise. A flash of lightning briefly painted her shadow across the hallway floor. The thunderclap followed on its heels, something most citizens of Ciphus were conditioned to. The lightning rod was installed in the center of the Bulb, so it wasn’t like there was that far for the sound to travel anyway. Maybe ten miles to the city outskirts, at best.

The soft touch of forced air brushed her as she passed beneath a vent. The modern conveniences that a member of the Thirteen could afford were astounding. Carefully controlled air temperatures to regulate an entire building? Even the University didn’t spring for employee luxuries like that. No wonder Lortran was such a popular employer. Hopefully her actions tonight wouldn’t trigger a wave of unemployment. She didn’t need the weight of starving families on her already burdened conscience.

Despite the overpowering wet smell she herself was exuding, another scent reached her. More Snepards ahead. Either she was approaching a high traffic area, or she had found something worth stationing multiple guards.

The hallway opened up on her right, and she crept up to the corner. Peering around, she saw that it was a case of both. The hall opened into a large, well-lit sitting area, with long leather couches and small glass tables strewn with newspapers and popular magazines. Several Snepard guards lounged on one of the couches, chatting in hushed tones.

Tselatra wrinkled her nose at another scent she hadn’t quite placed before. The cigar in one guard’s hand was undoubtedly responsible. Necral smoke had a way of trapping itself in one’s fur. Even without high-powered noses like hers, how could these cats stand it?

Beyond the three loafing on the couch, two more stood guard at an elevator door. The entrance to Lortran’s penthouse. Her destination.

The instructions had been clear. Whatever she did tonight, it had to be clear alchemy was involved. No chance of having it spun as malfunctioning tech or guards gone rogue.

Her eyes traced over the guards, noting the rifles slung from shoulder straps or laid out on couch cushions. Electrum batons hung from several waists. This was not a fight she could engage on their terms.

Flickering lights overhead sparked an idea. Heading back the way she had come, her eyes traced the Electrum lights. There would be a central Electrum panel for this floor somewhere.

The wiring was easy to trace and she followed it back to a small closet.

It was locked.

Swapping out the loaded Electrum cartridge for an Aquam one, she placed the bismuth barrel against the keyhole. As the water magic formed, Tselatra seized it with her mind, spending some of the Prism in her system to guide it into the keyhole. Connected to it so intimately, she could feel increased pressure in spots where the water pressed against tumblers. Commanding the majority of the water to form ice, Tselatra twisted the catalyst until it caught on the tumblers. She continued undulating the part that was still liquid, pressing up on the tumblers until they were aligned.

With a satisfactory click, her icepick unlocked the door. She smacked the end of the catalyst with a fist, snapping the icepick off in the door. It would melt in a minute or two.

Passing a number of janitorial supplies, she found the Electrum panel at the back. She opened it, casting the small room in Electrum’s signature lightning-blue glow. To her disappointment, these were industrial batteries, as evidenced by the thick metal casing shielding the more fragile Electrum crystals inside. That meant she couldn’t harness the Electrum’s magic for her own alchemancy without a catalyst specifically designed to work with batteries. Worse, because the reaction inside had already started, it would dissipate before she could take the thing home and extract the Electrum inside. She swiped a few spare batteries off the shelf to extract later, then threw the hammer bar on the side of the Electrum panel.

Immediately, all the lights on the twenty-second floor went out....