I squeaked open the rusted warehouse doors, slipping inside. Shady rusted walls, a big guy guarded the entrance. A bandanna around his head, he flipped a page of his magazine. Looking up, he strained his neck towards the other room. "Hey, Drake," he shouted, "your miracle girl is here."

I frowned at the nickname, stomping past the staircase. I rolled the panel door over. I'm not giving him a chance to run. Into the mechanic-like shop, the same cars half taken apart, tools strung out across the floor. I don't think I've seen Drake so much as touch a car.

I ran past the makeshift bar, following the glow of neon signs. I burst through the door, into the back room. "Drake," I snarled, shaking my fist at him.

He lifted his head, finishing his strike of the cue ball. "Phyn! Um- ya…" A nervous chuckle escaped his scraggly beard. Behind the pool table, surrounded by his thugs. "What are you doing here?" He backed up from the table, his men giving him funny looks.

"Oh, I don't know," I growled, stomping to the table. "Maybe it has something to do with government agents stopping by my apartment?"

Drake scratched his head, his steps continuing back. "I told you not to go...too many government people...questions."

"So you tell them where I live?" I waved my hands. "How does that make sense?" I growled.

He darted his eyes to his thugs, rubbing the grease stain on his shirt. "And what are you doing getting caught, eh? That's not my problem-"

"Really?" I snarled, chasing him around the table.

Drake scattered back, waving his hands. "Woah, woah, woah…can we talk about this in private?" He motioned with his eyes back to the bystanders. He wants to save face.

"Fine." I took a breath, turning. I won't ream you out in front of your posse. I stomped back through the door. "You have a lot to answer for though."

"Ya, ya sure," he said, turning back to his men. "I just got to deal with this, I'll be right back." He set down his pool cue, following after me. His grin disappeared, fidgeting with his keys.

Walking back through the shop, he led me back to the staircase. Climbing up, Drake avoided my eyes. He turned the lock, clearing his throat. "First off let me say…"

"That you're a snitch? That I can't trust you?" I spat, crossing through the door into the dingy cluttered space."This was uncool."

He dragged his feet inside, taking a deep breath. "You have no clue what they threatened me with. They knew stuff. About my business, details, names." He paced, waving his hands. "Talked about stuffing me in some cold dark cell. Just think about me in jail, me. I wouldn't survive," he ranted. Band posters peeled off the walls.

I rolled my eyes. "Cause you're such a delicate flower, Drake." I wrung my hands through my hair, sitting on top of his desk. "You need to tell me everything you told them."

Drake squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't remember, I panicked. I just started saying stuff."

"Gosh, Drake...this is my life." I hung my head, my boots kicking the edge of the desk. They might know all about my work, my patterns...enough to kill me if they want to. "I need to know what they know."

Drake's eyes went wide. "Are they still looking for you? What do they want?"

I snorted, "Me...I'm working with them." I leaned my head back, the fan spinning above me. "As insane as that sounds."

Drake shook his head, walking closer. "What about smuggling for me-"

I smirked at him, giving an evil laugh, "You should've thought about that before you started giving out my information."

"They gave me no choice! Now they're stealing you?" He pulled his hair, a sour expression. "Why would they do this? Why do they want you?"

"Well, maybe I'm good at what I do," I huffed, the radio in the corner humming quietly. Does he know? "...Anything interesting on the news?"

He threw his hands in the air. "You want to talk current events? I'm losing my best smuggler."

He still doesn't know about teleporting. I shrugged my shoulders. "I can still bring in shipments when I have time. This is just a little more complicated. I'll have less time, I'll be further away...I'm moving."

"You're what?"

I nodded. "I don't know the exact number, just that it's in the Ruling district."

His jaw dropped. "You're moving to the Ruling? How much are they paying you?"

"The apartment comes with the job...it was kinda pushed on me," I grumbled.

"Pushed on you?" He scrunched his nose. "Are you insane? Hell I don't care how shady the government is, I'd take that in a heartbeat."

"Ya, it's nice." I shrugged, shining a spot on my boot. "That whole place makes me uncomfortable though." I shivered. "Living there...it just seems weird."

Drake hung his head. "I will never understand you."

I'm not asking you too. The clock on the wall ticking steadily, I fidgeted. It's later than I thought. I jumped off the desk. "I have to get back. I don't want them knowing I stopped here."

"Don't drag me into this," he stuttered. "I don't want any more phone calls."

"Ya, sure." I waved my hand, marching back to the door. "Just don't tell anyone else my business, alright?"

"Alright…" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

I pointed a finger at him. "Promise?"

"Promise." He rolled his eyes, moving over to the desk. "I just don't understand what they need a smuggler for."

I stopped in the doorway, smirking back at him. "Now that's rather hush-hush confidential stuff."

"Oh c'mon Phyn, that's not fair." He chased after me.

I laughed, walking down the steps. "If I tell you, they'll probably kill you."

His face went blank. "Are you serious?"

I waved back at him. "See you later, Drake."

"Phyn?" he said, frozen in the doorway.

I continued down the stairs. "I'm joking, don't worry about it," I said.

His steps turned back into the room. I followed the path to the door, giving the thug a nod as I left. Bright grey clouds in the sky, I walked out into the alleyway. Following the pavement, I wandered away from the warehouse, down the secluded street.

I pulled out a folded up piece of paper from my pocket, a ripped off piece of a map. A little mark on the apartment building. A weak anchor, but it should get me where I need to go.

I hid in the corner, checking over my shoulder. I focused on the image, following the pulse. The street faded away, a new world building up. Cars beeping, lights blaring. I stood in a new side street, hiding behind a dumpster.

I wandered out towards the main street, beneath the shadows of towering buildings. Waving the map in my hand, I followed my little markings. I made it to the right street. Cars backed up, inching along the road. I slipped my hand in my pockets, counting down the buildings. A shiny building at the end of the street, new, sleek. It would cost an arm and a leg to live in a place like that. The wind at my back, a drop of rain landed on my forehead.

Strolling past the nice building, I froze. He didn't. Pulling my map back out, I checked the directions. This is it. I frowned, hesitating on the sidewalk. So much for practical. My hand rested on the door, nerves creeping in. This is the opposite of what I wanted.

I pushed open the doors, walking into the warm light. I wiped off my boots on the gaudy carpet, walking into a lobby of reds and golds. A chandelier over the coffee table. My trasy furniture is going to look awful here.

The woman at the desk moved papers aside, lifting up a key. "You're Miss Okie, yes?"

I nodded my head, freezing in place. "Ya...I am."

"Yes, we've been expecting you." She smiled, walking over. "Your stuff has already been moved up to the suite. There are some people there waiting for you."

I took the key from her hand. "Thanks." Least she's friendly.

"Phynley!" a shout sent my head turning. Lewis waved his arm, grinning from across the room.

I forced a smile. "Hello," I said, walking over.

He chuckled, motioning back to the elevator. "Just heading out to figure out where you went."

I scratched my head. "Ya sorry, I got lost trying to find the right building." I probably don't need to lie, but whatever. I stepped towards the elevator, wringing my hands. Why can't I just act natural?

Lewis stopped by the elevator, pushing the button. "It's all good, we just got worried when we beat you here," he said, his light blue dress shirt wrinkled. They look a lot less scary in pastels. He nodded his head. "Glad you found your way."

"Thanks," I muttered.

The door slid open, the two of us walking inside. Lewis wiped the sweat off his palms. "All the boxes are in but we haven't put anything away yet."

"That's fine, I can do that myself." The door rolled shut.

Lewis shook his head. "Murray won't let us leave till it's done."

I smiled, clenching my fists. But I want you to go. No more agents, no more red tape. I just want peace and quiet.

"So...how does it work?" Lewis asked, tilting his head towards me.

"How does what work?"

"Teleporting." Lewis shifted his posture, eyes full of curiosity. "Murray's told us the general bits, but it sounds so…"

"Strange, crazy, weird?" I grumbled at the elevator door.

"No, extraordinary," he decided. Luca said the same thing. My heart ached, shivers along my arms. That day feels so far away...breaking into the dungeons of Euphoria, pretending to be a kitchen maid.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well It's a bit complicated. It requires focus, finding an underlying rhythm. It's hard to explain."

He stared intently. "Huh...so did you take part in one of the experiments here or were there some going on elsewhere?" his voice, careful, restrained.

Experiments? I frowned, freezing at his question. I don't understand. "Um…" How should I respond? "...no I've just always been able to," I said. His eyes flickered. Maybe I shouldn't have said that? I already told Murray...did it matter?

"Huh…" Lewis mumbled, rubbing his chin. "Didn't know that was even possible."

What does he mean? Can they create people like me? I held my breath, counting floors. Wait, does that mean...there are no natural Marked anymore? I raised an eyebrow, turning my head. "So, experiments?" I asked, the elevator door rolling open.

Lewis's eyes went wide. "Ya...but I'm not supposed to talk about them, highly classified stuff." He pushed past me, out the elevator. Not helpful.

I scowled, chasing after him. "So what? You're just gonna get me talking and give me nothing in return?"

His face went red, avoiding my eyes. "Murray's already furious with me. I don't want to make things worse."

"I won't rat you out."

Lewis stiffened, shaking his head. "Trust me, it's not worth the risk."

Not worth the risk? I stopped in the hallway, lagging behind. What are they hiding? What is this about? I frowned, catching up with his pace. This isn't working. "So...what's Murray like to work with?" I asked as we approached the door.

Lewis knocked on the door, wavering his hand. "Well, Murray is..." he mulled over his words, "Murray's a real pain in the-"

"Lewis." Scout glared at him through the open door. Her auburn hair loose, over her shoulder.

"What? He is." Lewis rolled his eyes.

She crossed her arms. "You shouldn't talk about a superior like that, ever." Turning back, she led us into the space.

Light poured in from the windows, over the great open room. Clean walls, a huge open living room. I could fit my whole apartment in this room. The kitchen connected, shiny chrome, pretty sleek. The stove burners probably work too. I muffled a snort, walking around stacks of boxes. I spun around. "Stakeouts to moving; is there anything you don't do?"

Lewis rolled his eyes. "The variability gets annoying."

"Well…" Scout glared at him, blinking back at me. "You're a confidentiality issue, they don't want to bring in too many people." She walked over to one of the boxes, ripping off a strip of tape. "And what we do, is whatever Murray needs us too. Although we each have our specialities."

"And what does Murray do?" I slide one of the boxes off, opening up the top.

Scout shrugged. "That's confidential." She shuffled through the box. "You're not getting more out of me, not till it's all settled."

"Till what's settled?" I asked, turning my head.

"Till you get security clearance," Lewis said, walking past. "Get brought into the fold, what have you."

I picked at a piece of tape. "Will I be working with you guys?"

Scout wavered her head. "Most likely. Details are still being worked out, but Murray's optimistic."

I lifted my head. "So is this Murray's idea?" I sorted through the bundle of clothes in my lap.

Scout opened her mouth, shutting it. She took a deep breath. "I don't know…" She frowned, shaking her head. "It isn't my business to know," she said.

I folded a shirt from the pile. "It isn't our business to know who's dreaming up our fate?" Grey clouds drifted past the window. I want to know.

Scout shrugged. "It doesn't matter who's idea it is, only that it works." Her face blank, she avoided my eyes. But it matters who's plan it is. It matters what they want and how they'll get it.

Lewis rifling through a box, he poked his head up from the box. "What is this stuff?" He held up a stack of books and folded papers, blinking back at me. Shoot. I froze, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. He frowned at my hand drawn charts. "Are these maps?"

I scrambled over, taking them from his hands. "It's a hobby." I don't want them seeing this, picking it apart.

"What are you mapping?" Scout turned her head, eyebrows raised.

I glared at her suspicious eye. "I'm not a spy if that's what you're thinking." I set the stack on the desk, brushing my hands over the cover. This for me...the only thing I can do.

"What are you mapping then?" she snarled, following after me.

"History," I said, reluctantly meeting her eyes.

"History?" Lewis scrunched up his nose. "How do you map history?"

I opened one of the books, showing him a page. "Borders, landmarks, cities; they all shift. I'm trying to compare the world from beyond the great war to now. I haven't gotten far, mostly working off memory...I used to own a really good atlas." I moved my hands over the markings.

Scout stepped closer, frowning. "What's the great war?"

I dropped my expression, gawking at her confusion. "What do you mean?" I asked. She isn't serious...is she?

Scout pursed her lips. "What 'great war' are you talking about? It’s kind of a generic name."

Do they call it something else? This might be helpful in finding sources. I nodded my head. "Ya, it's the war that formed the Tetrad alliance. The country that was on this land before Avarice."

"Huh..." Scout muttered, "I've heard about the fall of Tetrad, but not this war before it."

"I don't know it either," Lewis said, shrugging. He turned back to the boxes.

How is this possible? I know it's been over five hundred years...but isn't this something people pass down? I flipped the cover back, a knot at the back of my throat. How do people learn if history is forgotten? I neatened the stack, dusting off the front.

"I should probably take more of an interest in history," Scout sighed, walking away from the desk. Has anyone even mentioned the war? Even once? I never thought…all this time. There's something wrong here, just beneath the surface. Another reason I need to get in the archives.

A knock on the door, everyone's heads turned. I took a cautious step forward. "Are we expecting anyone…?" I muttered.

"Not that I know of," Scout said, moving her head to Lewis. He shook his head. All of us stared at the door. Another knock, louder. Should I open the door?

The rattle of a key, the handle turned, the door slowly opening. A lipstick frown, poked her head through the doorway. Ingrid. "Hello Ms. Okie," she said.

Why is she here? I crossed my arms, giving a weak nod. I don't need any more surprises. Scout and Lewis, kept their heads down, sorting silently. Ingrid straightened her suit jacket, waltzing in. Eyes on me, waiting. I sighed, "What are you doing here, Ingrid?"

She nodded her head, a smile returning. "The Commander insisted I come and invite you in person."

"Invite me to what? "I scrunched up my nose.

"The gala tonight, it's an extension of the day's festivities." She raised her eyebrows, boredom in her eyes. "The Command was adamant you attend."

Why? I took a step back, wringing my hands in my hair. "Why didn't he bring this up before?" I don't want to go.

Ingrid snorted, "Apparently you left before he could." She motioned for me to follow.

I darted my eyes for an excuse. I need a way out. "Oh...well, I don't really know what I'm doing at these sorts of things. Maybe I'll just stay back." I cracked a grin. Please say that's enough.

Ingrid shook her head, waving me over. "That's not a problem. We'll get you a dress, a stylist, and I'll coach you about manners on the way." She grabbed onto my wrist, dragging me towards the door.

"I should finish unpacking." I pulled back.

"These two can finish for you." She latched back onto my wrist.

"But, wait, why is it even important?" I cried, twisting my head back to the other room.

Ingrid laughed, "An invite from the Commander isn't important enough for you?" She stopped in the hall, whipping off her glasses. "Are you stupid? Or is your ego really that inflated?"

"Okay I get it, you don't need to drag me," I snarled, rubbing my wrist.

"As long as you cooperate." She raised her chin, turning back to her path. "I may not like you Ms. Okie but as long as the Commander takes a shine to you I will have your best interests at heart. Your success here rests solely on your ability to keep him happy."

Gosh. "That explains why he's so spoiled and lifeless."

"What did you say?" Ingrid turned her head, eyes aflame.

I smirked at her, slipping my hands in my pockets. "Everyone's playing this tiptoe game. Does it scare you that I don't care what he thinks?"

"Don't overestimate your scariness, Ms. Okie." She straightened her posture, her heels clicking down the hall. "No ones frightened, trust me," she said.

I'm not afraid of you either. I tightened my fists, following after her. Deathly silence as we walked into the elevator. A heavy weight pushing me down, tired eyes. I'm not in the mood for a party, especially being dragged to one. "Does it work...pushing people around to get what you want?"

Ingrid darted her eyes over. "People need direction, that doesn't change." They don't need to be dragged down hallways. She wrung her hands together, stepping out as the door opened. "You seem happy enough to push back," she snorted. I glared back.

The dark parkade waited for us, lights barely cutting through the dark. Ingrid walked up to a shiny car waiting for us. A chofer with dark shades held open the passenger door. Ushered towards the vehicle, Ingrid shoved me into the backseat. The door slammed behind me. I growled in complaint, shuffling in my seat. This is going to be a long night.

Ingrid sat beside the chofer, leaving me alone in the back. So much for coaching me on manners. The engine starting a gentle hum, I laid back across the seat. I don't really care if I embarrass myself. I shut my eyes for a second, resting my eyes. I drifted away, sleep more tempting than I anticipated.