They had descended past the large metal door and went in deeper to into suffocating depths. The damp rot of the upper sewer had faded away, replaced by something much worse–something obscene. It reeked of chemicals. The walls seemed to squeeze in as they pressed inwards. Rusted sheet metal, splintered wood, and scattered debris line up in a narrow corridor. Something pulsed in the distance, but a flickery, hot brazier, inside the glow of fire.

  It looked uninhabitable, yet the discarded litter and plastics, and makeshift bedding in the corners told a different tale. This was a warren for Caldera’s cult. A breeding ground.

  They turned around the corner, more fire-lights, and the shadows dancing and crackling around, shifting unnaturally. Then she saw them stare and wait.

  Men–silent, adults. Their bodies were complete with soot, all their faces obscured by masks as if they lost any other identity. No words, no movement. Just the stares.

  Her pulse spiked. Her muscles cramped together and then–

  Click.

  Annemarie’s stride halted. Juniper twisted just in time to see it–a very rusty old metal clamp, its teeth glinting in the firelight, snapping up into the air, like a hungry beast, gunning for Annemarie’s leg.

  Juniper didn’t think, reacting in an instant. A burst of gravity broke the trap down before it bit down. Metal moaned and groaned as it crumpled apart. The mechanism was too big to hold its own weight against the gravitational force.

  Annemarie stumbled back, eyes wide. She nodded, a gesture of thanks, .but kept silent, shaken.

  They kept moving.

  They passed more ‘Watchers’. The silence was intrusive. They went down further, into the heart of the constructed place. A stairwell took them lower.

  A sensor peeped at them. It flickered green, green, green, then yellow.

  It stopped.

  Then came red.

  The wall cracked open, grinding and then something pushed through, – a metal pipe, with a taxidermies dog head around its circumference. The dog's eye, glassy and dead. Metal gleamed.

  Whoosh.…

  A Jetstream of fire erupted from the pipe throat of the dead animal..

  Heat came towards them in a flash. Annemarie reacted fast, bending the gravity and yanking Juniper up into the air, as the flames licked the ground beneath them. The air seared enough to make her skin sting, yet they forced their way through and around.

  On the other side more of these men. Waited. She must have counted at least 8 by now. In the corridor, they were lined up like schoolchildren. Watching. Waiting. The moment they moved too close, their formation shifted. Their movement becomes rigid.

  Then came their hands–grabbing and gripping, seizing them. Juniper did not resist. Annemarie did though there was no point. Annemarie twisted and pushed, but she grew tired of breaking free. But she didn’t dare use her powers when there were stakes at play.

  These weren’t mindless arsonists. This was a cult. Disciplined. Trained. Devoted to whatever messed-up beliefs they had.

  And all they worshiped was the fire. They were shoved inside. Hard.

  Juniper stumbled forward before they pushed inside another room. It reeked of burned metal, sweat, and something acrid–something alive. Smoke clung to the air, thick enough to be swallowed by the ends of her throat.

  More cultists stood around.

  Some sat on their bunk beds, others on crates, smoking from long pipes, strained. Their eyes seemed hollow through the mask, and the stench of narcotics was strong. Was that how they joined up? Drugs? Hypnosis?

  Then pushed into another door. The door behind them slammed tight shut. Trapping them inside.

  [Juniper, I know you don’t want to hear me, but…][If push comes to shove, you might have to get your hands dirty. I know, I know, but you’re in a razor-thin, teetering-on-the-abyss kind of situation here. So… steel yourself. No take-backsies.]

  Then she saw him in the center.

  His body was draped in a suit, and he was waiting relaxed. A gas mask obscured his face, black glass where his eyes should have been. Right next to him stood, a figure– a bodyguard, unmasked unlike the freaks.

  He was built like concrete and bigger than the two men armed at the door flanking them. His growth was unnatural, but he didn’t carry himself like a cape. On the right of him, an array of screens buzzed, shifting like a twisted slideshow. Grainy but held the city skyline. The SCRA is in the process of apprehending the Vans. And the–

  She saw a layout, all too familiar. Her home neighborhood, on open display, top down.

  Bloody red flooded her vision. Hands shaking before registering the movement. It left her broken and sharp in breath.

  She moved. No hesitation.

  Her fist connected with the masked bastard’s face, snapping his head back. The gas mask, flew off him, revealing his face. Middle-aged man, half consumed by a burned face–streaks of gray hair were residing next to blackened strands. He grinned, and then he laughed.

  The sound of her fist was raw and loud. She drew her arm back for another hit.

  “Juniper!” Annemarie’s scream cut through her redlike haze.

  Something massive slammed into her. Her arms were pulled back. Pain erupted. White and tearing. Her shoulders popped a bit, too far, locked in a grip.

  She trashed. Tried twisting.

  Click.

  Cold metal steel pressed against her skull. A big one, a big handgun. A barrel wide enough to send her brain matter into space.

  Caldera exhaled, through his nose. “

  Juniper swallowed.

  He flicked his fingers in a tic-like manner before continuing, his voice was smooth, almost lazy. “But don’t worry, it’s nothing personal. I saw an opportunity and took it.”

  Then, suddenly, he leaned in.

  Close.

  Too close.

  His breath was hot against her cheek, and she She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this close to another man who wasn’t her father.

  “I made sure my tracks were covered. Sloppy, yes, but tell me—” His tone dipped into something almost amused. “What compels two beautiful young women to start sniffing around a junkyard?”

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Juniper spat in his face.

  His expression stayed the same. But sighed, wiping the spit away.“

  He turned toward the screens, tapping something on the keyboard. A monitor pinged, the map replaced by grainy footage of the surrounding area.

  Home.

  Her heart dropped.

  He pressed a button ominously.

  She , the gun still aimed at her.

  Caldera smirked. “Boom.”

  Laughter filled the space.

  “Relax.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m joking. ”

  Annemarie growled, her voice low and furious. “What the hell do you even ”

  He strolled forward, crouching next to Anne, who had been put on her knees. They had assaulted the vans without masks, lost in the scuffle. She was exposed to him, a position no cape wanted to be in.

  He reached out and touched her face.

  Juniper’s breath hitched.

  "Ahh, Also known as Annemarie." His fingers trailed along her jaw, deliberately. "I read your file. We’re kin, you know that? I, too, was burned. I, too, was doused in the flames, literally. But unlike you—”

  His voice became reverent “I it.”

  Annemarie bit his hand.

  Caldera hissed at her but pulled away. A touch of blood on her lips bared her teeth.

  " How did you even that information?”

  His grin widened. “Nothing is secure anymore, I’m afraid.” His head twitched slightly—convulsing, almost—as he reached for something.” And did you two really think I was going to let you converse without me, poor little Annemarie, how tragic.”

  Annemarie was pissed, but unbothered by his remarks.

  He flicked his index finger. A ring. A thick ring. He twisted it. A tiny

  Then fire bloomed.

  The small flicker expanded into something A of flame erupted from his palm, licking up his arm, and consuming the fabric. He burnt himself.

  Juniper started to freeze. He didn’t flinch, nor did he scream. Instead, he something—words she didn’t understand. A prayer? A chant? Latin?

  The flames burned higher and warmer his own, flesh charring, burning deep enough to smell the faint smell of cooked meat.

  She gagged.

  Caldera exhaled restlessly, then smiled.

  He paced, savoring the moment, like a fine wine, like he had consumed a meal. His steps were slow.

  "Now, what could I possibly want with a rookie cape?" His voice was almost amused, like this was some kind of game. "Leverage. Nothing more. And now…" He exhaled, breath rasping through his teeth. "We need to get moving in a moment."

  The words dripped out, but like they were too heavy even for him, he sighed again.

  "This place," he murmured, "is a scourge on the earth. The sins of the past must be " His head tilted, voice dropping into something reverent. "This city… this of civilization—it needs to burn. Only then can something rise from its ashes."

  Juniper forced herself to breathe, to focus on the task at hand. Stay alive, ensure her siblings were kept safe. She latched onto his words and drilled it into her head… Anything to keep herself focused.

  A flicker of composure returned. " overly zealous," she said, her voice flat. "And for what? The torture of innocent people?"

  They locked eyes. He smiled.

  "Overzealous?" He chuckled, deep and quiet. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." His expression sharpened, something almost fond flickering through the madness. "And so will you be, one day."

  The air shifted.

  His gaze searched hers, reading her like a tarot card and an open palm, beneath her bones. "There are no innocents, Juniper."

  His voice softened, turning almost poetic. "Do you feel it? The pull? That deep, yawning maw. The inevitable chaos that follows."

  She tensed. Then—he moved. Faster than she expected.

  His fingers brushed against her forehead, lingering, like a priest bestowing a blessing. His eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a slow, shuddering breath.

  "Yes…" he whispered, almost in awe. "You've been touched by it. By Heaven's Hand."

  Her pulse slammed against her ribs. His grip tightened, fingers pressing in.

  "I can see it in you," he breathed. He started shaking uncontrollably, "A spirit persists in you." His head tilted, lips parting slightly. "You're different."

  His voice wavered, a note of schizophrenic uncertainty slipping in. "You could be a messiah… maybe… maybe…"

  Then he switches up again.

  "Not unless I put a bullet in your head first."

  Her blood ran ice-cold.

  Then—he laughed. Again. The kind of laughter that didn’t fit the situation, that made her skin crawl.

  [He knows more than he lets on.]

  Her system’s words slammed into her like ice water. Was he a pawn in some bigger game, what did that make her, if she was lured here?

  “Why else, Juniper?” He grinned, voice honeyed with something wrong. "Why else does someone like you pop up? So gifted, so multifaceted—"

  Her fingers curled into fists. Her breath was ragged, and shallow.

  She closed her eyes. Pushed it down. When she spoke again, her voice was low, quiet—dangerous. "Cut the shit, enough" she growled. "I'm tired. "

  Caldera’s expression darkened, something cold and ugly curling behind his eyes. "Out," he muttered. His voice was rough, almost bitter. "I want "

  He exhaled sharply, as if spitting the words from his mouth like poison. "The plan has failed." His fingers twitched.

  "I've been left for the dogs," he seethed. "Just another cog in the machine. They gave me everything—men, power, resources tailored to my needs, everything. And now?" His lip curled. "They abandoned me."

  Juniper narrowed her eyes.

  “Who’s they?” Annemarie asked.

  He ignored her, leaving the would be revelation a mystery.

  "This city—" He gestured wildly at the flickering monitors. "It was supposed to burn. Anarchy should have erupted. My plans were to purge the unclean—" His voice caught, and then, just as quickly, the frustration twisted into something cruel.

  His eyes flicked to her. Frowning, "You," he murmured. "Juniper."

  Something in his tone sent a spike of cold down her spine.

  "You like to throw punches—"

  He snapped his fingers, and flames sparked. His hand pressed against her ribs, pinning her as she was held.

  Then—heat. A flicker. A glow. His ring ignited, fire licking up his fingers, and then—

  Agony.

  She arched her body, and a sharp gasp came from her throat, as heat spread. At first, it was searing heat, but then her suit began to melt open.

  The fire ate through the materials. And then it touched her skin.

  White-hot.

  The ring, now a branding iron, pressed Juniper

  Her body convulsed, jerking violently against the grip of the men holding her. Her nerves shrieked. The pain was beyond anything she had ever felt.

  A system notification popped.

  [Durability +1, for enduring immense pain.]

  [Durability +1, for enduring immense pain.]

  [Durability +1, for enduring immense pain.]

  [Durability +1, for enduring immense pain.]

  Her screams tore from her throat, her voice left wrecked. He pulled away.

  She slumped forward, breath coming in shallow and broken. The pain was lingering, crawling through her body.

  And yet, she didn't pass out. She didn't even fall.

  Her head rolled slightly, her vision swimming, but she was still

  Still

  Caldera let out a breath, half-curious. " still conscious."

  He tilted his head, eyes gleaming.

  "And even." Her nerves screamed, and her body was trembling. But she didn’t break. “Amazing.”

  ***

  They were forced past a passage, two armored vans, plating heavy, back doors swung open. The spaces inside were tough and reinforced. Not meant for people. It was transport for goods.

  Annemarie scoffed. "Now what?" she muttered, struggling as the brute shoved her forward. “Going to lock us up somewhere, use us…”

  Caldera sauntered closer, his charred suit carrying the acrid stench of old burns. He smiled—slow, knowing, smug.

  "Unfortunately, I don’t have time. I’m taking a little trip," he murmured. "Off to the border. Mexico, maybe. Somewhere warm. Somewhere that isn’t here."

  His eyes slid to Juniper, flickering. "But you—" His voice dropped lower, conspiratorial. "You’re my little panic button."

  Juniper forced herself to keep still, to not react. Caldera chuckled, adjusting his cuffs. "Ms. Pinewell, do you know how valuable you are?"

  She glared. "Enlighten me."

  "I’ve been watching," he mused. "Paid good money for certain databases. And funny thing—" He grinned, sharp and cutting. "You had a postmortem directive attached to your SCRA record."

  Juniper’s heart

  He tilted his head, studying her. "Why do you think that is, hmm?" A beat. "In the event of your death—" He gestured vaguely. "Plans to cut you open, send your body straight to a lab. No memorial. No grave. Just a dissection table and a bunch of eager little scientists waiting to tear you apart."

  Juniper clenched her fists, knuckles white. "You’re so full of shit. Stop pulling it out of your ass"

  Caldera’s grin widened. "Welcome to the cape world, sweetheart. The world of corruption, theft, debauchery, and lies. You’ll be drowning in it soon."

  Annemarie gritted her teeth as the brutish guard pushed her towards the second van, a gun firmly on her neck.

  Caldera sighed theatrically. "They’ll be storming this place any minute now. That drone? Didn’t show up for nothing." His eyes flicked back to Juniper, gleaming. "But you, Juniper dear—you’re my special little contingency plan. I’m taking you over, ransom you there."

  Juniper’s breath was slow, measured. "I hope you burn in hell."

  Caldera barked out a laugh. "Me too."

  Then he shoved her inside

  A Big mistake.

  .

  His fingers brushed against her skin, right at the base of her neck, the touch searing more in her mind than in reality.

  A system notification flashed.

  [Enough, Juniper. Get ready for an offensive.]

  Her breath hitched.

  Her vision sharpened.

  [Mimicry skill activated.]

  [Mimicry Analysis—]

  [Technique: Technic Pyrokinetism – Shape, control, and manipulate flames to an enhanced extent.]

  [User gains intrinsic understanding of incendiary weapon creation, on par with engineering expertise.]

  [Activate? Y/N]

  Juniper’s fingers twitched.

  Caldera was climbing into the van. The doors slammed shut behind them. The engine rumbled to life, the heavy vehicle lurching forward.

  Her jaw tightened.

  "Yes," she whispered aloud.

  Caldera turned, watching her with vague amusement, like a cat watching a bird in a cage.

  Juniper exhaled, slow and controlled.

  She could kill him right now. It would be easy, to snap his neck but–

  Her veins thrummed with stolen power, heat licking at her fingertips, waiting—begging—to be unleashed.

  But she didn’t. Not yet.

  Not until he was vulnerable. Not until he couldn’t stop her.

  Then—

  Then she was going to burn him straight to hell.

  There are many things I plan on exploring but so far, who do you believe could be the best love interest.