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"Stop screaming. You're giving me a headache," Soren snapped. He didn't let go of her wrist. Instead, he dragged her deeper into the damp shadow of the execution plaza's underbelly, his grip like a vice around her bone.
Vespera tried to dig her heels into the dirt, but she was half-dead and shaking. "Get off me! You tried to kill me ten minutes ago!"
"And I'm still considering it," he hissed, slamming her back against a cold stone pillar.
The impact knocked the wind out of her. Soren didn't move away. He leaned in, his chest nearly brushing hers, the scent of ozone and expensive leather filling her senses. He was too close—dangerously close. He reached up, his gloved thumb pressing hard into the jagged cut on her neck, right where his own blade had almost ended her.
"What is this?" he demanded, his voice a low, lethal vibration. "The soul-bond. I felt it snap. Tell me what you did, or I'll find a way to rip it out of you, even if it kills us both."
Vespera let out a sharp, wheezing laugh. "Did? I didn't do anything, you arrogant prick. My system glitched. I was trying to save my own skin, and now I'm stuck with a murderous inquisitor as a spiritual anchor. Trust me, I'm not thrilled about it."
Soren's eyes narrowed. He didn't believe her. He never believed anyone. He shifted his weight, pinning her more firmly against the stone, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of her tunic. Vespera could feel the steady thrum of his heart—and then, a sudden, violent spike.
Soren winced. He gasped, his hand flying to his chest, his fingers clutching at his black doublet. He stumbled back, a strangled sound escaping his throat.
"What... what is that?" he gasped, his face pale.
"That's called a sympathetic reaction, genius," Vespera spat, though she was struggling to breathe herself. "We're soul-bound. My heart stops, yours stops. I get a bruise, you feel the echo. Right now, I'm bleeding out from a neck wound you gave me, and your mana veins are reacting like they've been hit with acid."
Soren looked at her like she was a monster. "Impossible. This is forbidden magic. Heresy."
"Call it whatever you want," she retorted, sliding down the pillar to sit in the dirt. "But unless you want to die in a sewer, I suggest you stop calling me a heretic and start worrying about why your chest feels like it's full of molten iron."
Suddenly, a sharp *twang* echoed through the tunnel.
Soren's reflexes were inhuman. He didn't even look. He pivoted, his hand blurring as he snatched a heavy crossbow bolt out of the air inches from Vespera's face. The metal tip whistled past her ear, close enough to leave a draft.
"Who's there?" Soren roared, his voice booming through the corridor.
Three figures emerged from the gloom—Soren's own scouts, dressed in the grey and silver of the High Tribunal. They didn't look like they were there for a rescue. Their crossbows were leveled, and their expressions were cold.
"High Inquisitor Hale," the lead scout said, his voice devoid of emotion. "The Tribunal has declared the prisoner a bio-hazard. Orders are to terminate both the target and any compromised assets. That includes you."
Soren froze. He looked at the scouts, then down at Vespera, who was staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"Compromised assets?" Soren's voice was a dangerous whisper. "I am the High Inquisitor. You take orders from me, not some nameless clerk in the capital."
"The Council has already signed the decree," the scout replied, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Step away from the girl and we might let you die quickly. Stay with her, and we'll make it slow."
Soren didn't hesitate. He didn't even glance at Vespera as he stepped in front of her, shielding her body with his own. He drew his blade in one fluid motion, the steel singing as it left the scabbard.
"Kill them," Soren commanded.
Wait—not the scouts. He was talking to himself. Or rather, to the power surging in his veins.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Vespera yelled. "They'll kill us both!"
"Shut up," Soren barked.
He lunged. He wasn't just fast; he was a blur of black steel and controlled rage. He sliced through the first scout's throat before the man could even blink. He spun, kicking the second scout's knee with a sickening crack and driving his elbow into the man's temple. The third scout fired.
Soren didn't dodge. He took the bolt in the shoulder, the metal piercing through his armor. He didn't even flinch. He stepped forward and drove his blade through the scout's chest, pinning him to the wall like a butterfly in a collection.
Silence returned to the tunnel, save for the wet sound of blood hitting the floor.
Soren stood there, breathing hard. The bolt was still sticking out of his shoulder. He turned back to Vespera, his expression murderous.
"You," he said, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "You've made me a traitor to the Tribunal in under an hour."
"Hey, I didn't ask for the soul-glue!" Vespera snapped, though she was trembling. "And for the record, you're the one who tried to behead me!"
Soren stepped toward her, the bolt in his shoulder glistening. He grabbed her by the collar, hauling her up so her toes barely touched the ground. The distance between them vanished. Vespera could feel the heat of his breath on her lips, the raw, violent energy radiating off him.
"Listen to me, you little plague," he whispered, his eyes burning. "I don't care about your system or your glitches. I will find a way to break this bond. And the second I do, I am going to finish what I started on that block."
"Big talk for a guy who's currently bleeding on my shoes," she retorted, though her heart was hammering against her ribs. Not from fear—or at least, not just fear. The tension between them was thick, electric, like a storm about to break.
Soren's gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before he shoved her away. He groaned, his knees buckling slightly. The color was draining from his face again.
"What..." he wheezed. "What is happening?"
Vespera didn't answer. She couldn't. A translucent blue screen had just snapped into existence in her field of vision, flashing a violent, pulsing red.
**[WARNING: SYMBIOTIC COLLAPSE IMMINENT]** **[Target: Soren Hale]** **[Condition: Mana Vein Rupture / Soul-Siphon Shock]** **[Status: Critical]**
"Oh, shit," Vespera whispered.
"What?" Soren gasped, clutching his chest. "What is 'oh shit'?"
"Your mana veins are shredded," she said, her voice suddenly professional, the combat medic in her taking over. "The soul-bond is trying to balance our energy levels, but you're leaking power like a cracked pipe. If I don't plug the holes, the feedback loop is going to blow us both up from the inside out."
Soren let out a ragged breath. "Fix it. Now."
"I can't just 'fix it' with a bandage, you idiot! I need access to your core, and I need a stable environment," she argued, though she was already reaching for the medical kit she'd managed to snag during the chaos.
As she knelt beside him, the system timer began to tick down in the center of her HUD. The numbers were large, red, and terrifying.
**[TIME TO SYSTEMIC FAILURE: 29:59]** **[29:58]** **[29:57]**
"Thirty minutes," Vespera whispered, looking at the man who hated her. "We have thirty minutes before we both explode."
Soren looked at the timer, then at her. He reached out, his hand gripping her wrist again, but this time it wasn't to hurt. It was a desperate, crushing hold.
"Do it," he commanded, his voice cracking. "Or I'll kill you myself the moment I can stand."
"Deal," Vespera said, her fingers hovering over his chest. "But first, you're going to tell me exactly who gave the order to kill you."
Soren opened his mouth to answer, but a sudden, booming crash echoed from the end of the tunnel. The sound of a heavy iron gate being ripped off its hinges.
Someone was coming. And they weren't coming to help.