The Trap

Anaxi hadn’t made it far when Victor’s enforcers intercepted them.

Victor arrived shortly after, stepping out of his transport with a smug grin. “You’ve been busy,” he said, his voice dripping with mock admiration.

Anaxi held their ground, the orb hidden in their satchel. “You’re wasting your time, Victor. You can’t use it.”

“Maybe not yet,” Victor said, closing the distance between them. “But I’m a quick learner.”

Anaxi’s gaze darted to the Creche standing behind Victor. Their forms shimmered faintly, their silence unnerving.

“Arc,” Anaxi said, addressing one of them. “You don’t have to follow him.”

Arc didn’t respond, but its stance shifted slightly, its head tilting as though considering the statement.

Victor laughed, the sound harsh against the barren landscape. “Are you trying to appeal to their ethics? They’re mine, Anaxi. Just like that orb.”

Before Anaxi could react, Victor’s enforcers surged forward, pinning them to the ground. The satchel was torn away, the orb gleaming as it was unwrapped.

Victor lifted it, turning it in his hands. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

“You don’t understand what you’re holding,” Anaxi said through clenched teeth.

Victor smiled. “Oh, I understand plenty. And soon, the whole Waste will understand too.”

With a nod from Victor, the enforcers dragged Anaxi away, leaving a Creche behind to stand guard.