As I devoured the giant donut, the euphoria consumed me.

  Every bite was pure bliss.

  More.

  I needed more.

  The warm rush of sweetness flooded my senses, drowning out the weight of everything else. The fear. The mission. The blood.

  None of it mattered here.

  Not in Sugar Land.

  Then—it was gone.

  The colors faded.

  The candy crumbled into nothing.

  And I was ripped back into reality.

  The red returned first.

  Then—the heat.

  The smell of burning flesh.

  The taste of iron on my tongue.

  I blinked.

  The whimsical world of Sugar Land was gone.

  And in its place—

  Hell.

  Blood. Fire. Carnage.

  The alley was an inferno, smoke curling into the air like tendrils from something alive.

  Marcus Farhide and his men lay scattered across the ground.

  Mutilated. Twisted. Unrecognizable.

  Some were missing limbs. Others had been ripped apart entirely.

  My stomach lurched.

  What… happened?

  HUNT COMPLETE.

  JOB STATUS: COMPLETED.

  REWARDS WILL NOW BE AVAILABLE FOR PICKUP AT THE PYRAMID.

  Desire unlatched from my neck, releasing his hold on me.

  The bracelet on my wrist flickered to life.

  It was done.

  I hunted Marcus Farhide.

  But how?

  When?

  I don’t remember.

  My thoughts spiraled, crashing into one another.

  I barely had time to process before—

  THWACK.

  A hard slap on my back.

  "GOOD SHIT, KID!"

  Zara’s voice rang out, loud, excited, impressed.

  "You were a beast out there! Are you sure you’re not a veteran? ‘Cause, goddamn, you were merciless.

  Ripping through them with that big smile on your face? Gave me chills."

  My breath hitched.

  Smiling?

  No.

  That wasn’t possible.

  I wouldn’t… I couldn’t.

  I don’t even remember doing this.

  I don’t remember anything.

  Something cold spread through my chest.

  "Ms. Zara, may I speak with you privately, please?"

  Desire’s voice was calm. Controlled.

  Too calm.

  He floated toward a shadowed corner. Zara hesitated before following, throwing me a glance—confusion flickering in her eyes.

  They whispered.

  Low. Careful. Private.

  Zara’s eyes flicked back to me, concern creeping into her face.

  Then she nodded.

  Whatever they talked about—she agreed.

  I took a step forward.

  "What were you guys talking about?"

  The words came out shaky.

  Zara turned to face me.

  She hesitated.

  "It’s… uhm… nothing!

  Zara waved a hand dismissively, her usual confidence faltering for just a second.

  "It’s okay, kid. Sometimes it’s best not to know. Trust me on this one."

  She was lying.

  Or maybe she was telling the truth—but only the part she wanted me to hear.

  I opened my mouth, ready to press further, but—

  "Never mind that!"

  Her voice picked up, shaking off whatever hesitation had slipped through.

  "Let’s go collect this reward of yours! I’m dying to see that hotel room we’re supposedly getting. I hope it has a hot tub or something. I could use a good soak, and maybe we can order some room service. What do you say?"

  I blinked.

  We?

  I never invited her to stay with me.

  I shot her a look of disbelief. Zara grinned.

  I rolled my eyes.

  There was no stopping her nonsense.

  We wove through the maze-like streets, neon signs flickering and casting distorted reflections against the wet pavement.

  The Pyramid loomed ahead, towering above the city like an unshakable monolith. Its jagged silhouette cut through the skyline, a beacon of power and control.

  Zara moved with effortless swagger, her boots clicking lightly against the pavement as if she owned the ground beneath her. The neon lights danced across her cybernetic limbs, highlighting the fire in her step.

  She whistled a tune, carefree, letting it echo through the alley walls.

  I walked differently.

  Every step was measured. Cautious. Calculated.

  Every shifting shadow felt like a potential ambush.

  The city was a puzzle.

  And I didn’t like the feeling of being a piece on someone else’s board.

  As we neared the Pyramid, the air grew heavier.

  Anticipation buzzed beneath the city’s restless hum.

  The guards at the entrance stood rigid, their metallic eyes scanning every approach.

  The floor was stained.

  Dark red. Old blood.

  A silent reminder of the “failures” who never made it past these doors.

  Zara, unfazed, strolled past the guards like she belonged there. Like she knew every hidden thread woven into the city’s design.

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  I hesitated for only a second before following.

  Inside, the grand lobby pulsed with energy.

  The crimson light bathed everything in an eerie glow, stretching shadows in unnatural ways.

  Hunters crowded around holographic terminals, their faces etched with determination, exhaustion… and something else.

  Desperation.

  Some were hardened by battle, scarred and weary. Others—new recruits like me—stood rigid, trying to mask their unease.

  Above them, watching, waiting— the guards.

  Some were human.

  Most were not.

  All were armed to the teeth.

  The air crackled with tension.

  The promise of reward. The inevitability of death.

  It was all the same in this place.

  And now, I was a part of it.

  "Zara, wait!"

  I struggled to keep up, weaving through the frantic sea of bodies. The lobby buzzed with a chaotic rhythm—faces blurred past, voices rising and falling, footsteps clattering against the polished floor.

  Zara’s hand found mine, firm, steady.

  "C’mon, kid!"

  She pulled me through the throng with ease, her grip reassuring, confident.

  We stopped at the same terminal where I had first received my chip—the moment my life had changed forever.

  The weight of déjà vu settled over me.

  "NAME AND HUNTER STATUS, PLEASE."

  The robotic voice was cold, sterile.

  I hesitated.

  Then, swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced the words out.

  "Marilyn Ridgewood and, uh… Hunter."

  A mechanical whir filled the air.

  "MARILYN RIDGEWOOD, HUNTER."

  "JOB STATUS: COMPLETED."

  "REWARDS: MRE (6 BAGS) AND VISTA HOTEL (2 NIGHTS)."

  The bracelet on my wrist flickered to life, pulsing with confirmation.

  Then, the terminal robot’s eyes glowed.

  A whining sound filled the space, growing louder—something was moving.

  From the shadows, a sleek drone emerged, descending gracefully before us.

  With a soft thud, it placed a black box at our feet.

  Zara bent down and flipped the lid open.

  Inside, neatly packed MREs sat beside a keycard.

  The card’s surface gleamed, embossed with a golden palm tree and the words "Vista Hotel" in bold lettering.

  Before I could react, Desire hovered closer.

  With a flicker of movement, the box disappeared into digital storage.

  "Nice! Forgot these things have built-in storage."

  Zara stretched, her excitement buzzing in the air.

  "Alright, let’s go! A luxury bathtub is calling for my ass!"

  She grabbed my arm before I could protest.

  Desire latched onto my neck—a familiar weight.

  A flicker of fire ignited at Zara’s feet.

  Her legs whirred to life, mechanical joints heating up.

  The glow from her hair intensified, forming a halo of flame above her head.

  I knew where this was going.

  Then—BLAST.

  Fire roared beneath us, propelling us straight into the air.

  The world spun as we soared through the night, neon lights and cityscapes blurring into streaks of color.

  "WE’RE FLYING?! AGAIN?!"

  The wind rushed past my face, my stomach lurching as my grip tightened.

  And yet…

  A thrill coursed through me.

  Despite the panic, the vertigo, the absolute terror—

  A part of me loved this.

  "WOOOO! HAHAHAHA!"

  Zara’s laughter crackled like wildfire, her sheer energy pushing us faster, higher.

  Through the darkness, the Vista Hotel emerged—a golden skyscraper, sleek and towering, its reflective surface piercing the night like a beacon.

  She angled us downward, guiding our descent.

  A final burst of heat, a controlled fall—

  We landed.

  Wind whipped around us.

  Zara released her hold, straightening up, shaking out her hair.

  She dusted off invisible specks of dirt, grinning.

  "Flawless landing, right? Told you I’m the best."

  Her laughter filled the night.

  And for the first time in what felt like forever—

  I almost laughed with her.

  ""HAHAHA, that never gets old!"

  Zara’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

  "Kid!" She shot me a mischievous grin. "Ready to soak up some luxury?"

  I nodded, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the urge to puke.

  The moment we stepped inside, the world changed.

  The filthy, neon-lit streets outside vanished behind us, replaced by polished marble floors, shimmering chandeliers, and pristine gold accents.

  Luxury. Perfection.

  It felt like stepping into a different dimension.

  Zara’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

  Her wide-eyed excitement was almost contagious—but something about this place felt wrong.

  Too clean. Too perfect.

  Like it was trying to hide something.

  "Zara," I hesitated. "Do you ever feel like... you’ve done something, but you can’t remember?"

  Her expression shifted, just slightly.

  Then—a laugh.

  "Oh? Get that all the time, kid."

  She tapped the side of her head. "My noggin’s seen so much fucked-up shit that, to stay stable, I gotta remove some of those memories. You know what I mean?"

  I didn’t.

  But before I could press further—

  "Anyways! Moving on. Look at this beauty! Vista Hotel! Always wanted to stay here. Thanks to you, kid, that wish came true."

  I should’ve felt relieved.

  I didn’t.

  Still, her last words sparked something warm in my chest.

  At least I’d made her happy.

  The moment shattered.

  Someone slammed into Zara’s shoulder.

  "HEY! WATCH IT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

  Zara snapped around.

  The man stopped mid-step.

  Slowly, he turned.

  Dark eyes. Open black suit revealing tattooed skin. A pistol holstered at his side.

  His lip curled.

  "What the fuck did you just call me, whore?"

  Zara scoffed.

  "Not only are you dumb as fuck, you’re deaf too? Hmmf."

  The man's jaw tightened.

  "I fucking dare you. Say that shit again."

  Zara took a slow step forward.

  Her grin widened.

  "I said—deaf. Piece. Of. Shit."

  The air shifted.

  Tension crackled between them like a live wire.

  His hand darted for his gun.

  Too slow.

  BOOM.

  Fire exploded from Zara’s palm as she lunged forward.

  Before his fingers even brushed the grip—she had the weapon.

  A roaring inferno swallowed the pistol whole, reducing it to molten scraps in her grasp.

  The man staggered back, cursing.

  But then—he laughed.

  "Look at you. Tryna be like the Arsonist, huh? HAHAHA. Fucking fan girl. Even bought the Arsonist build. Oh my god. The Pyroteknic too?? HAHAHA. That’s actually hilarious."

  Zara’s smirk vanished.

  A dangerous glow flickered in her eyes.

  "Fan girl, huh?"

  Her body tensed. Flames flickered to life.

  "Bitch. I AM the Arsonist."

  Her voice dropped.

  "ZARA THE MOTHERFUCKING ARSONIST. INCENDIUM AD SOL."

  WHOOSH.

  Fire erupted.

  A pillar of flame engulfed her, spiraling upward like a living inferno.

  She moved.

  Fast.

  Too fast.

  The man had no time to react before Zara slammed him into the floor.

  Her flaming grip crushed his collarbone, pinning him down beneath searing heat.

  "Any last words?"

  He grinned through the pain.

  Then—spat in her face.

  "Yeah. Fuck you."

  Zara hauled him up by his face.

  Her flames roared to life.

  The man screamed.

  A symphony of agony.

  Burning flesh. The scent of scorched skin.

  Zara’s voice, low, almost mocking—

  "I fucking dare you. Say that shit again."