...

Market street, or technically, Orient Road, is overrun by neon hospital roadblocks and the mess of people waiting for cheap medical attention.

The ANZ wreck casts a cold shadow over me as I stand in the queue of people waiting to be permitted into the hospital. My blank mask conceals everything beneath my nose, and I adjust my hood so I blend in.

Soldiers in full-face gas masks grip their machine guns as they scour every malnourished, impoverished rat who scurries past. I inspect their gear as I pass with my head tipped low. Glim-Screens appear every moment, detailing many high-tech security and comm devices. Even some electronic weapons.

The party is tonight... but I burned my mask, I burned the two things that reminded me of Tokyo, all to spite my ugly brute of a father. Marrying me off to Hito, what a twisted idea.

Now my father is just another enemy. If I go to the party, he could kill me, if I don' go, it will push him to declare me an enemy, and I'd be caught before I can get to Scorpius... do I keep this a family secret, or make him declare it? Both options fücking suck.

I have to go tonight.

I swallow down a pang of nerves. I'm not gon' be able to bite my tongue if I see Reid Myers. Prick deserves to be thrown in a pit of Zeros.

My father and Tokyo had a huge fight the night before he enlisted. Reid betrayed us two days later... it can't have been a coincidence.

Reid's betrayal got good men, our men, killed—his actions left Ghoul families without fathers, but then it hits me like a bullet that I'm no longer a Ghoul. I shouldn't hate him anymore. His betrayal got nothin' to do with me.

But that just begs the question... Why did Akimitsu kick Reid out if they were such close allies? Why wasn't Reid offered Yubitsume? Was Reid rebelling, looking for a way out?

The congested queue moves toward the hospital steadily, but people leave hastily on the other side of the neon blockades. I run my hand along the yellow plastic, my stomach tight with unease. They never put so many barriers up. Is it just crowd control?

It amuses me when we pass the singed remains of Crippy's tent. The scene of black tar and destruction earns whispers of shock and horror, but I just graze my new gun affectionately. I can't believe something blew up. I must've missed an explosive device.

I glance in the distance where I know Moaners-Tilt leans, and more importantly, the stash of weapons lies. I get the urge to check they're till there, but I remind myself that Scorpius left a disguise holograph up for security. It'd be more of a risk to check, because then I might be followed.

I look back at Crippy's old tent. Two Ghouls guard the singed remains, confirming my suspicion that my father had to have known... He should have mentioned it last night if there was nothing suspicious about the attack.

I nearly stop dead in my tracks when I witness a giant graffiti tag on the only remaining wall. A Doberman with a spike collar, and the word, HOUNDS, slashed underneath.

Why would the Hounds claim the hit I made? Unless the Heratix left the tag to point suspicion away from them.

Why was dad asking me about Vinnie? He's a Hound. Well, whatever that means now, given they're a dead gang.

What business did my father have with all those guns? We stole enough to arm half of the high-rank Ghouls, and I don't even know if we got everything.

I pass a tall soldier carrying a heavy machine gun who looks at me, so I glare back, hard. It's impossible to know where he's looking with the black gas mask, but something tells me he's staring directly at my face.

This close, I can inspect the alien gas mask. The mechanical device makes a little hissing noise when the soldier breathes, and his curly blonde hair sticks out at the back, but his whole face is concealed. All the soldiers look like that Iron-Man dude from before the war.

He's a Corporal—but that's the only identifying feature on his uniform. Then, something weird happens; he freezes, his chest goes still, and the gun stiffens in his grip.

The Corporal stares for too long, and I curl my lip in irritation, scrunching my nose at the bastard—the fuck is he looking at? His name badge is covered by his bullet vest.

His attention unnerves me, and I look closer, but the mask makes it impossible to discern anything except a gold shark-tooth earring.

That's a uniform violation.

My hostile expression seems to jolt the prick because he clears his throat so he can talk into a device on his shoulder that's the size of a coin. But my eyes zero in on it when I realise there's something wrong with this picture. There's not a single Glimm-Screen on his person, but I'm looking at a device. He must have security tech to scramble any possible code my CPG... as in eSight, could access. "One potential subject passing security point twelve." The mask makes his voice sound mechanical. He hesitates, looking at me again as I pass, "Over."

The line moves and my skin crawls as I glare over my shoulder at him. He watches me go. Why did it feel like he was gon' tell me to stop?

Unable to shake the utter strangeness of the encounter, nerves clench in my stomach, and I slip through the crowd so I can migrate forward. People seem to avoid me as I move.

"Forward."

The queue snarls into a crawl and people bump around like blind sardines in a pond. I cling to the barrier, holding my knife in my pocket.

This feels off. But I promised Scor I'd hit the army's supply tent before I left.

A long time passes where nothing happens, and we inch closer to the entrance. This feels wrong. My stomach curls when every soldier I pass seems to stare. I guess hitting the medical tent isn't the worst way to spend my last day in the city... but partying with the people I used to know is. Actually, Hito Tanaka is worse.

"Forward."

The looming ANZ wreck feels more menacing this close to the soldiers, so I tug my blank mask higher in feeble defence.

I got back last summer from my eight-month absence... shit was really fucked up for a while. Dad likes to lord it over my head that I let them think I was dead, and the truth is I could've done something to alert them to my... I wrinkle my face up mid-thought. My dire situation, I guess. What, being so sick that I was spewing bloody guts up for two months on end? Yeah, no way I was gon' let him get the satisfaction of helping.

Not after what he did.

The king sentenced the princess to the cage.

I remember that woman's face right before she and her friends attacked me, or how the rusty bars cut my hands as I pried them apart, or how the fall from the cage into the reservoir felt like the worst moment of peace.

But then we hit the water, and those three cracked-out brutes took turns holding me under that soup of shit, piss and corpse.

Only thing that stopped them was when one spewed his guts up, and a worm came out. It meant the fish worms had eaten a hole through his abdomen, meant that we were all gon' get eaten alive by the carnivorous.... things that occupy the water. [Candiru: Parasitic Catfish]

I got one, but it was a baby, and Elias's Nona knew an old cure to kill the parasite, so it went rotten in the flesh right above my inner elbow. E cut it out. I made Scorpius's surgeon fix the scar when he put my eSight in.

"Forward." We shuffle on, and I puff dragon breaths against the brittle air, staring at an old man's back.

What use does thinking about that shit do? Last night it took me two seconds to denounce my father, but it took longer than that to decide. It didn't really feel as, dramatic, as I always thought it would.

I can't see the people entering the hospital, but I can hear them. "Your name?" A soldier asks through his mechanical mask.

"Hugh Merritt." An old man replies.

"The kid?"

"Joy Merritt." A young girl says.

"Age?"

"Fourteen."

A scanner beeps. "None of these kids are in the system." The soldier says to his walkie-talkie. If they're using the government database it means this is a public hospital, not one of Michigan Duncan's private social benefit donations. It means these soldiers have come here on government command, which is in violation of the RED ZONE legislation.

"Have you had your period?"

The old man intervenes, "I, is that necessary?"

"Answer the question, girl."

A long pause. "Yes." She squeaks.

"Is it regular?"

"N-No."

"Are you sexually active?"

I narrow my eyes. This is definitely weird compared to normal... I don't care how much I could steal; I don' wan' be here if the government runs it. I look at the people on the other side of the blockades who seem to flee the hospital. Can I sneak across? I shift through the crowd so I'm pressed flush against the yellow blockades.

"Y-Yes."

"Split them up."

"No." The man tries, "I would be more comfortable-."

"You don't have a choice."

At the growing unrest, the soldier closest to me turns his back and I take the opportunity to edge my weight against the plastic barrier. It grates under the force but no one notices as it yawns open—until it catches on a lump of tar.

Shit.

I try again, but the grating screech catches a young girl's attention in front of me. The guy beside her seems more interested in the dispute ahead, so he pulls her into his chest and silently sizes the soldier up.

He steps back and nearly bumps into me, but I refuse to give up my position next to the barriers. His broad shoulders cast another shadow across my face.

He looks at the roadblocks and a muscle in his chorded neck jumps. Thick brows, a strong and proud nose, sharp jawline, tan skin, dark eyes... My breath catches and I avert my gaze.

"Are they gon' split us up?" She murmurs. Her voice is taught with nerves. It catches my attention for some reason, and a small bead of sympathy strikes me.

"No, they been sending guys my age in too." He wraps his fur coat around her, his scarred knuckles catching a crop of cool light. A Glimm-Screen appears at his pocket, detailing a Vanguard Technology phone. The latest model, too... what is a Lake Darling thug like him doing with a piece of tech like that?

"Are you sure?" She whispers.

"It's gon' be okay, Bloom," He murmurs, and his deep voice catches me off guard. That changed...

Bloom Kankedo—his half-sister.

His dark hair is cut short at the sides and an unmistakable scar stretches across his temple like a lightning strike. Reid. I swallow against my dry throat, returning my gaze to the soldiers.

Bloom wraps a skinny arm around her brother's waist and presses a flushed cheek to his chest as she watches the soldiers through her lashes. I notice a small red mark under her lip, like an old cold-sore, or maybe a graze.

"It's fine sir, we don' need your hospital no more, just let us go." The man in the distance tries to bargain.

Blooms features are round with youth, but she'll be as striking as her brother when she grows into herself. At first glance, they don't appear to be related, but if you look past their different fathers, you can see their shared cheekbones and dark eyes.

Their features are proud, intimidatingly so.

Her eyes are sharp and fearful, which strikes me again. She's terrified of that hospital.

"Reid, look," Bloom whispers, and to my alarm, she directs his attention to the gap in the barrier that I made.

A Sergeant grabs the Joy Merritt girl and jerks her onward, but neither of them looks. I try to escape Reid's notice but it's of no use.

The soldier in front of us watches whilst he reports into his device, "Come in O-Lab. Crowd is tense. ETA on clearance to get this show on the road. Copy?" He asks.

"Copy. Just need the okay from Sergeant Major. Over." The device replies.

Whatever Scor wants from their supply tent isn't worth it. I look around, trying to come up with something. The half-open blockade gapes wide, and Reid's glare drills my cheek as he angles himself until he cages me against it, bolstering a strong leg to my right so that I can't escape. He's pulling more attention. Bloom pulls her cheek off his threadbare shirt, releasing him, "Help her—."

I snap my eyes up to drill a glare at the pair of them, shouting a silent order; shut up.

Reid tightens his grip on Bloom, forcing her back to his chest, where he subtly presses his thumb to her lips. She digs her fingers into his forearm in complaint, but he focuses on cutting me off from the gap.

The person beside me watches the scene ahead, unaware that the knife in his jeans is right within my reach.

"Come in security post one. Serg radioed through sayin' how the Doctors are getting impatient. Still waiting on Captain Briggs for orders to start pulling potential subjects from the line. Stand ready. Over." The device says.

He looks at me, but then my phone syncs with my eSight and a text appears right beside his face. Stupidly, I grab my phone to silence the alert, to get it off my eye so I can focus, but then Reid's attention falls to the swell of my gun, recognising the contraband weapon keenly. My heart drops, quickly realising that he's gon' to try something stupid if I don't play along.

"Think," Reid snarls at me, the threat in his voice so low and measured that it makes my skin prickle.

I nearly glower up at him, but I do as I'm told. Think.

I reach around Reid in a swift move and rip the blade from the man's pocket, throwing it at the ground. The stranger looks around, but instead of blaming Reid like I hoped, he fixes on a bystander, "Oi!"

Soldiers raise their guns.

"Wh-."

"What are you playing at, fucker!" He shouts, turning on the innocent man.

"Man I didn't do shit—."

Everything happens lightning fast. The stranger shoves him and he retaliates. They barrel into Reid and I smack the barrier wide. Screech! The gap is small, but enough. "Oi!" I shout, playing my part.

Someone swings at Reid, but he retaliates by cracking them in the temple with a brutal fist. His opponent stumbles, his legs slackening like a baby fawn before he knocks into a soldier and passes out.

The lethal punch chills me to the bone—he's not feral like he used to be. He's cold and measured.

The soldiers don't pay me any attention as they kick through the crowd. "Oi! Stop! You!"

Mayhem breaks loose. People fling themselves at each other or at the soldiers. Some outright flee, hopping blockades, charging at the admission gate. I try to slip through the gap I created, but Reid wedges himself between me and my escape, sneering at me, "I'll get you caught." His unknowing glare digs my cheek.

The momentary contact of his chest fills me with heat. I have to remind myself to focus, Vi, he's a traitor. He's a thug, a betrayer and a snake.

"Let me go," I snap, halfway wining in protest. I made the diversion to distract the soldiers.

He snatches at my mask, but I jerk my face out of the way. A lash of anger strikes his angular features as he searches me, trying to identify my gang. My lips part. He thinks I'm a rogue with a gun, hell, maybe a Manic.

"Reid," his sister urges, looking at the scene behind us uncertainly.

"Meet me at Dickies," He ushers her through, but I exploit his momentary distraction and hoist myself over the barrier, evading him.

I get free, slipping into the current of people that stampede away. I check over my shoulder as I start jogging. Fuck that was a close call-.

But then someone outpaces me and in a sudden flash of force, Reid muscles me against the blockade.

I cry out in dismay, "I'm a worker."

Reid uses his size to pin me under him, planting one hand beside us to trap me. "Bullshit." He scoffs, and I open my mouth to argue, but then he presses an icy blade flat against my stomach and a small noise escapes my lips instead.

I dig my nails into his knuckles and his muscular biceps lurch, the vein in his neck bulging as he dips his head, trying not to be seen by the soldiers. "How'd you get it?" Reid tries for my hoodie but I grip him tighter, trying to wriggle free. "You come from Heratix, what Zeke wan' stamp me out?" He snaps, and I stiffen.

My gaze tracks from the collar of his worn black t-shirt to his tan cheek, to his electric grey eyes as I dully try to compute his meaning. What in the fucking hell does a Lake Darling scum bag think a ganger from the Heratix would want from him?

"Back up! Back up!" A soldier cries when other people in a different queue start resisting.

"Reid!" Bloom cries, fed up with him for screwing around when each of us could be well free of this place.

"Bloom go!" Reid snaps, averting his gaze for a moment to make sure she listens.

Someone knocks into his back, forcing him harder against me. I take advantage and shove my gun into his abdomen, releasing the safety. Click.

His eyes lock on mine. He stiffens, but instead of fear, a spark of bitter, condescending warning trickles through his dark expression.

It chills me.

My heart flips when his cool gaze tracks my face, searching for any hint that might unlock my identity.

Reid's eyes look like a snapshot of a lightning storm; grey, electric, moody.

In the same way a storm makes me full of apprehension, his proximity prompts the slight urge to submit, but what mostly remains is the unyielding desire to grit my teeth and weather him.

Reid drills a glare at me, his strong brows severe and accusing. But then his confusion snaps into a mist of shock. Has he realised it's me? We practically grew up together, no matter how much either of us hated it.

The flood of people makes my heart race but strangely, despite the noise and the panic, I feel his heat. I feel his warm hand on my navel, and the icy blade beneath it.

I feel my inability to move. I feel when he lifts the knife, and slowly, raises his hand.

"Let me go," I mutter as I watch his lean fingers rise, though the slight tremble in my voice points at my utterly pitiful attempt at resistance.

Reid's gaze dips as the flat, harmless portion of the blade brushes my cheek. The chill of the metal sends a shiver down my body. Did he feel me tremble against him like a timid kid?

He gently peels the mask and I fail to resist, letting him unveil the lower portion of my face. His gaze darts down when the fabric catches my bottom lip, and the lightning in there sparks, hinting at his momentary lapse of composure.

"Happy?" I mutter, rousing his attention back. I expect to see confirmation, or at least dislike in his hard gaze, but instead his lips part and his brows loosen in mute shock as he takes all of my features in.

"Vi," he murmurs, like he has to utter it to make it true.

I pry the blade from his grip, shoving him hard before I disappear into the crowd. Fuck.

...

hiyaa BONUS update and its a biggg oneee <3 <3 I hope u guys enjoyed!!

(oh.my.days.^)

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