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of any feedback. Even her interrogations were completed in total darkness. There was a noise of water dripping. Was she in a cave? The area lacked the earthy stale smell of air trapped underground, but perhaps this was a base of some sort. The ground underneath her was not smooth like a typical room and she felt large cobblestones or large smooth pavers, damp and slimy.

She tried to shift to get comfortable, but it only made the pain in her shoulders and arms worse. They had manacled her arms behind her, in an exaggerated swan-dive position that allowed no relief. A rubbery material completely encased her hands, which made her unable to focus her power, and she could not activate any of her skills. She was bound around her wrists below the large rubber spheres. No way she could flip or position her body to get the cuffs in front of her. And she had tried. Anything to get some relief.

After gaining some rest and enough resolve, she would stand and lean slightly backward to relieve the tension. Her leg muscles were unreliable—wobbly and exhausted from electric shocks, being stabbed with foot-long needles, and other horrors that brought her health low. Never enough to finally be done with it. When they suddenly buckled, her arms felt like they were going to be ripped out of their sockets, so she slowly sank to a kneeling position for as long as she could tolerate it, even though it stretched her arms out even more.

This had been her world. The only break in the routine was when they would come and ask her questions: Where is the island? What is in the manor? What have your scans revealed? Aurora had held out thus far, due to her training, but she was unraveling.

Truth was, she had no idea what they wanted. Sure, Graviton scanned the areas below his station and sent information back to Purple Faction, but there did not appear to be a concerted effort to find anything in particular, and since she was one of the highest-ranking officers on board, it wouldn’t make sense for that type of information to be withheld from her.

Still, they would not relent in either their questioning or torture until she was near death. Having an HP bar that told the sociopaths just how much they could push her was a huge disadvantage. She’d never thought it would be a liability.

She tried to cast her mind back to better times, when things had changed from her horrible childhood to a less horrible tween-hood. Then to the academy. That was when she had truly come into her own. She focused on that feeling and embraced it, and the pain became a bit less present.

“You go now,” the short woman shooed her out the door.

“What are you doing, Auntie?” the skinny girl asked, irritated that she was interrupted from her book and pushed out the door. Auntie had her quirks, so Cass decided to take a walk. Maybe she was going through one of her irritable spells or something. She had been on edge and acting strangely for the last couple months. Short for no reason, prone to strange outbursts at the slightest provocation. Cass just tried to give her space when she went cray-cray, and she would usually revert to her normal self.

She kicked a bottle down the garbage-strewn alley. It hit a small pile of garbage, scaring a rat enjoying a meal. As it fled, running against the wall, it was swallowed by one of the semi-sentient plants that spread like ivy across the walls of this area. Without them, this area would probably have been overrun long ago and disease would have run rampant. The purple bulb hung as it digested its meal, appearing to be a mere eggplant to the ignorant observer. Gross.

It had just rained, which washed the air clear of the odd combination of food smells that always permeated the area, but new ones took their place as the water revived smells from the ever-present garbage.

Usually, she had her music with her, but her Flik and headphones were back in her room, and Auntie hadn’t given her time to pick them up. It was probably the reason why she heard them coming from behind. One stepped on a discarded Styrofoam package, alerting her to the presence of the three men tailing her.

The large one on the right scowled and threw an angry glance at the hot-stepper, and the girl and men simultaneously broke into runs.

Since Cass had lived in the area for six years, she knew the shortcuts and was able to get a little space between her and the men, even though their long legs chewed up the distance quickly in the straight alleyways. Cass knew where to climb a dumpster to vault over a fence, or the narrow areas she could slide between where two of the sheet-metal-shanties almost touched corners.

Of course, no one got involved, even though she was running for her life, or virtue, or whatever these animals wanted. Just confused stares rubbernecking after them, but no one alarmed or motivated enough to step in and help.

She could probably take these guys out easily with her powers, but she didn’t want anyone else to know that she was different—especially in the Chaos Gardens. Semi-sentient plants that ate vermin, people could handle. Humans with super abilities, they would ostracize forever. She wouldn’t be able to live here if they knew; no one would sell her anything.

That was primarily how she and Auntie had survived. Cass would buy the things they needed and pay the few bills; Auntie supplied the cash. Since she had essentially been a mail-order bride, Auntie was totally lost and didn’t speak the language. When her elderly husband died, shortly after she’d arrived, she was lost. She understood nothing of what the nicely-dressed men were telling her and having her sign with her fingerprint and DNA confirmation.

In the end, the woman Cass called ‘Auntie’ received

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