Slate perched on one of the stairs hidden from view. The mound of patched, blue tarp waved at her in her periphery. With her chip out of her body, Thirteen had no way of tracking her should Seven's theory prove to be true. Only she could approach the hideout and not be blasted to dust by Thirteen's hidden safeguards.

The first one was the layer of sensors embedded into the soil. Any movement within a fixed radius would be detected. It would be impossible to pass through or disable it from the inside. Seven thought they would risk it, alerting Thirteen of their presence. However, he wouldn't know there were two people instead of one, and that would be their advantage.

Hence, as weak alarms signaling a barricade breach rang from inside the tarp, Slate left Seven by the building's entrance and stalked towards higher ground. Her job was to jump in should Thirteen prove to be more slippery than they counted on, so she should stay within helping range while being out of sight.

Blatant cursing rumbled from inside the tarp. The alarms ceased, followed by light rustling. Whatever it was, Thirteen had something up his sleeve. The front flap of the tarp-tent flew outward. A boy with dark curls and warm bronze skin stepped out. That was Thirteen, alright. Apart from the bedraggled hair, the rumpled and dusty clothes, and the deep frown lines marrings his face, he looked the same from when they first met.

Slate retreated deeper into the stairs, pressing her shoulder against the silty wall. Sharp debris clung into and poked her in the ribs and shoulders. The jacket's sleeves did nothing to ward them off. Maybe she shouldn't have scrubbed them as many times as she did. Seven, as expected, was nowhere to be seen.

Thirteen didn't have the portable screen with him, but he looked around for any sign of aggression against him. His back was slouched, as if his gut swirled in pain. Did he contract some sort of sickness? Slate was too far away to see his lips, but she swore Thirteen appeared gaunt, at least. What kind of withdrawal did he experience in exercising his ability? What kind of ability did that in the first place?

Something rustled in the horizon. Slate winced as Seven stepped on a dried leaf on his way towards Thirteen. The former leader snapped to attention, digging something from his pockets and pulling his sleeve up. She squinted, watching him unwind a strip of soiled bandage from his arm. An unsettling sight awaited her.

His wrist was black and blue. Multiple lacerations might have infected it, and now, he was fishing out a pre-loaded chip out. He didn't wince or flinch from the pain or the blood dripping from his fingers. Even as he slotted the new chip in, he kept his eyes forward and moving, always scanning every direction from where Seven might come in from.

Silver glinted in the air. Seven's blade rushed down Thirteen's back like how the invisible boy determined it would when they planned this attack. It was a sure hit, until Seven froze and Thirteen stepped out of the blade's trajectory. Only then did Seven resume moving, hitting the air instead.

Despite the initial confusion, Seven launched up and renewed his attack. Thirteen scrambled back, dark red liquid painting the bottom of his nose. The former leader's steps turned shaky, as if he fought to stay upright. Whatever that freezing ability was, it took a toll on him. Seven, out of his invisible veil, slashed and hacked. Each of his attacks sliced something in Thirteen. First a sleeve, then, the cloth before the skin, before finally landing a solid hit into a leg.

A scream echoed across the building's open ambience. Thirteen fell, a trail of blood following in his wake as he scrambled away from Seven's violent swings.

"Thirteen?" A new voice rang from the complex's entrance. Slate turned away from the fight to watch Fourteen's familiar shaggy black hair pop into view, walking in on Seven about to stab their former leader. "What's going on here?"

Thirteen leaped into action, swinging his foot up. His boot connected with Seven's blade, wrenching it out of the invisible boy's hand. It clattered to the floor. Before Seven could bend to pick it up, Thirteen staggered up and shoved the boy away. They collapsed to the ground in a tumble of limbs and bouncing hair. Thirteen smacked Seven across the face, rolling away before Seven could do the same. A black boot with laces untied swung in a wide arc, catching the fallen weapon underneath. With a grunt, Thirteen flung the dagger out of Seven's reach.

Then, he scurried back just as Seven recovered and became ready to throw wild strikes. He opened his hands. The temperature dropped in a span of seconds. Slate peeled away from the wall as ice descended from the slabs, the pillars, and the metal rods. The square pocks groaned and whined under the weight of shards building from their corners. Cold wind kissed Slate's skin, and when she breathed a little too hard, the air crystallized inches from her nose.

Thirteen was sealing them inside, turning the building into one giant freezer. Vapor rose from the ground and curled off the walls at a rate faster than Slate thought to be possible. The temperatures plummeted as the walls thickened into glaciers, blocking any bright light from the late morning sun. Slate scampered down the stairs before it turned slippery and deposited her to the ground in the worst way. She ducked behind the immediate pillar and kept away from Thirteen's periphery.

The smoke thickened into white haze when Seven snapped up and vanished in a flash. Slate watched Fourteen step into the veil of vapor and vanish inside. The girl emerged later, looking lost as she ran towards the only unsealed portion of the building. Slate turned back to where Seven was. Where could that boy be?

Slate cursed under her breath and stalked forward. They had to get out of here before they were frozen to death. Shadows danced in the farthest part of the ice-locked room. She grunted, waving her arms around to disperse some of the vapor obscuring her vision. The dark blobs took the form of two people grappling against each other. One of them sported a silhouette similar to Seven, a tapered blade reflected in his hands. Wait—

The dagger slashed out, catching the victim by the throat. Smoke curled away from Seven's feet as he sidestepped the falling body. When the corpse toppled forward and flopped onto the ground, it wafted wisps of vapor away. The face that greeted them past the hazy veil wasn't Thirteen's.

Fourteen stared up at them with vacant eyes, blood seeping from her face and out of the gaping wound on her neck. What...

"I don't understand," Seven breathed, clutching his hair with bloody hands. "He was right there—"

It sank in then. "My ability. He used it." Slate turned to Seven, grasping the boy on the shoulders and shaking him. "Don't you understand? I thought I saw Fourteen exit the premises, but I remembered Thirteen has my ability. He can turn to anyone."

Seven's eyes widened, his gaze flicking back to the fallen girl at his feet. "So, this is..."

"The real Fourteen," she concluded. "You...killed her."

By simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Fourteen paid the price she shouldn't have paid. Slate didn't know what business she had in the Northern region, but seeing as she called Thirteen's name, he was directly concerned. And not only did he abandon her, he took her face and left her in a cage of his enemies. Even if they have to face each other later on, Slate didn't want to kill Fourteen. Not yet.

Seven smacked his forehead, cursing under his breath. Slate grabbed his hand and steered him towards a thick wall of ice. "We can develop better plans to corner Thirteen later. At least we know what abilities he has now, even if just a portion." She could have slapped the sense into Seven, but refrained. She needed him to be functional. "Let's focus on getting out of here, okay? It's not getting any warmer."

The boy could only nod, hefting the knife he had. Fourteen's blood still dripped from the edges, and Slate did her best to not think of that. Together, they started hacking at the glacier, chipping away at the solid block of what could kill them in the long run.