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"Get your head down if you want to keep it!" Kane shoved Evelyn hard against the rusted metal of a dumpster, the impact knocking the wind out of her.
Above them, a sleek black interceptor screeched across the asphalt, its headlights cutting through the smog like surgical scalpels. A burst of plasma fire slammed into the brick wall inches from Kane’s shoulder, showering them in red dust and sparks.
"What the hell is happening?" Evelyn gasped, her chest heaving against his. She tried to push away, but Kane’s arm was a steel bar across her collarbone, pinning her into the grime.
"Your father doesn't do 'family arguments,' Evelyn. He does liquidations," Kane spat. He glanced at the street. Three more bikes were circling the block, their engines humming a low, predatory drone. "And right now, we're the trash getting picked up."
"I can call them off!" she yelled, her voice shaking. "I just need my phone, I can tell them I'm with you and—"
"And then we both end up in a soul-jar?" Kane sneered, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, cold light. He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Look at the street, Princess. Those aren't negotiators. Those are Erasers. They don't take calls. They take heads."
Evelyn froze, her gaze flickering to the black-clad figures sliding off the bikes. They didn't carry badges; they carried heavy-duty soul-siphons.
"Move. Now," Kane commanded. He didn't wait for her answer, hauling her up by the waist and dragging her deeper into the neon-drenched labyrinth of the slums.
They sprinted through a narrow gap between two leaning tenements, the air thick with the smell of ozone and rotting synthetic fish. Every time Evelyn stumbled, the bond between them flared—a sharp, electric tug in the center of her chest that made her breath hitch.
"Stop pulling me!" she snapped, stumbling over a pile of discarded circuitry.
"Stop tripping, then," Kane retorted, not slowing down. "Or do you want to see if those siphons feel as good as they look?"
"You're an asshole," she hissed, though she gripped the back of his jacket tighter.
"And you're a liability. But you're the only liability I've got," Kane muttered.
He skidded to a halt behind a flickering holographic billboard advertising 'Eternal Youth' in a glitching, neon pink. He pressed his back against the wall, pulling her flush against him. The heat from his body radiated through his damp shirt, and Evelyn could feel the rapid, heavy thrum of his heart against her own ribs.
"Stay quiet," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
Evelyn felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. She looked up at him—the sharp line of his jaw, the desperation buried under that arrogant mask. "Why are you doing this? You hate me. You probably hate everything I stand for."
Kane’s gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back to the alley. "I don't care about your politics, Evelyn. I care about my soul. And since you're currently tethered to the only card that can get it back, you're the most valuable thing in this city. Don't mistake that for liking you."
"Liar," she whispered, though there was no conviction in it.
Suddenly, the screech of tires echoed from both ends of the alley. They were boxed in. Four Erasers stepped into the light, their masks reflecting the neon glare of the billboard. The lead hunter raised a siphoning rod, the tip glowing with a sickly violet hue.
"Target locked," the hunter’s voice was a distorted metallic rasp. "Hand over the heiress, Discard, and we might let you keep your tongue."
Kane stepped in front of Evelyn, his posture shifting. He looked fragile compared to the armored hunters, his clothes torn, his power stripped. But his eyes were burning.
"Evelyn," Kane said, his voice low and urgent. "I need you to trust me. Right now."
"What? I don't even know you!"
"Trust me or die. Pick one."
He didn't wait. Kane reached back, grabbing her hand and slamming their palms together. He didn't just hold it; he squeezed, forcing the connection.
"Burn with me," he groaned.
Evelyn screamed as a surge of raw, agonizing heat tore through her. It wasn't external; it was coming from inside her, drawn out by the bond. She felt Kane literally ripping into his own remaining soul-essence, using her as a conduit to amplify a power he no longer possessed.
It was a Forbidden Card maneuver—soul-burning.
*Sizzle.*
The air around them ignited. A shockwave of gold and crimson energy exploded outward, slamming the Erasers back into the walls. The violet glow of the siphons shattered like glass. For three seconds, Kane wasn't a Discard; he was a god of ruin, his silhouette wreathed in flickering, ethereal flames.
Then, the light vanished.
Kane collapsed to his knees, coughing up a thick spray of blood. He was shaking, his skin pale as ash.
Evelyn fell with him, her lungs burning, her vision swimming. She looked at their joined hands. A thin, glowing red line had etched itself into their skin, crossing from his palm to hers.
"What did you do?" she whispered, her voice raw.
"Blood pact," Kane wheezed, leaning his forehead against hers. His breath smelled of copper. "We're not just bound now. We're shared. If you die, I go with you. If I burn, you feel the heat."
"You idiot," she breathed, but she didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders, pulling him close. "You almost killed us both."
"But we're still breathing," he managed a jagged smirk. "That's a win in my book."
They didn't stay to celebrate. With the Erasers temporarily incapacitated, Kane hauled himself up, leaning heavily on Evelyn as they limped toward the only safe haven left in the district: The Doc.
They arrived at a nondescript door marked only with a faded red cross and a skull. Kane kicked it open without knocking.
"Doc! Get the needles ready!" Kane roared.
The interior was a nightmare of chrome and organic sludge. Tubes of glowing fluid lined the walls, and the smell of antiseptic fought with the scent of old cigarettes. A man with four cybernetic eyes and a stained lab coat looked up from a dissection table.
"Kane? I thought you were scrap," the Doc rasped, stepping forward to inspect the glowing red line on their palms.
"Change of plans," Kane grunted, sliding down into a metal chair. "Check the bond. Tell me how much time we have."
The Doc didn't use a scanner. He grabbed their hands, his metallic fingers cold and precise. He closed his eyes, humming a low frequency that made the bond vibrate.
As the Doc worked, Evelyn watched Kane. He looked exhausted, his dominant energy replaced by a hollow fragility. For the first time, she felt a pang of something that wasn't fear or hatred. It was a terrifying kind of kinship.
"This is a mess," the Doc finally said, stepping back. He looked at them with a mixture of pity and horror. "You didn't just bind your souls. You fused the decay. Kane's soul is a leaking battery, and he's using Evelyn as the charger."
"Just tell us if it works," Kane snapped.
"It works," the Doc replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But not the way you think. You're not surviving this, kid. By tying yourself to her like this, you're not fighting for your life."
Kane frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You're committing suicide," the Doc said, pointing to a monitor where their soul-waves were overlapping in a violent, jagged pattern. "And you're taking her down with you. Every time you use that power, you shave a month off both your lives. You've got maybe three months before the bond collapses and snaps you both in half."
Evelyn recoiled, her hand flying to her chest. "Three months? I can't—I won't—"
"Shut up," Kane said, but there was no bite in it. He looked at the monitor, then at Evelyn.
"But," the Doc added, reaching under the table to pull out a holographic projector. "There is a way to stop the clock. If you can retrieve the original fragments of Kane's soul, you can stabilize the bond. You can actually make it permanent."
He flicked a switch. A list appeared in the air—a hit list of the city's most powerful players. At the top, a name glowed in ominous gold: *Marcus Thorne*.
"The first fragment is in Marcus's private vault," the Doc said. "But look at the update."
As the screen refreshed, a new notification popped up. A bounty. A massive, city-wide alert.
Evelyn gasped as she saw the image attached to the bounty. It was a candid shot of her and Kane, taken just minutes ago in the alley.
"They've tagged us," Kane whispered, his eyes narrowing. "The whole city knows we're together."
"And the reward?" Evelyn asked, her voice trembling.
Kane looked at the number. It was enough to buy a district. "They're not paying for your return, Evelyn. They're paying for our heads."
Just then, the Doc's alarm system began to blare. A red light flashed across the ceiling.
"Someone just breached the perimeter," the Doc yelled, reaching for a shotgun. "And they didn't come for a check-up."
Kane stood up, his hand instinctively finding Evelyn's. "Get behind me."
"Wait!" Evelyn shouted. "The Doc said Marcus's vault has a soul-scanner. If we go there, we'll be caught instantly!"
"Then we don't go through the front door," Kane said, a dark smile returning to his face.
He turned to the Doc. "Give us the keycard to the sewers. We're going to give Marcus a surprise he can't scan."
Before the Doc could answer, the front door exploded inward in a shower of glass and steel. A figure stepped through the smoke, holding a device that emitted a piercing, high-frequency scream.
"Found you," the voice echoed, and the device locked onto the bond with a blinding red beam.