CLOCKS x STILL x TICKING
⟢───── Ashes × Aether ─────⟣
NATION OF X'OMMERA - MORNING AFTER THE BLACKOUT - THE RUSTLINE
For a moment no one in Triple Kill spoke.
Riven cracked his knuckles once.
“Clock’s ticking. Vei’s not waiting.”
Set was already tightening the wraps on his forearm.
Talla stood first.
They stepped out of the alley with an energy the world hadn't felt since the night they left Sylvanna.
As they crossed from the borders of the Rustline into the Pulse, the air shifted around them:
Music blasting.
Clubs spilling people onto the sidewalks.
Billboards glowing bright over crowds already lining up for brunch clubs and betting halls.
Interceptor Drones calmly floated overhead like obedient pets.
Not a single sign of the lockdown.
Just neon, noise, and money moving.
Talla stared at the street like she was watching a lie.
“Are you kidding me,” she muttered.
Set kept his eyes low and Riven scanned the rooftops anyway.
He couldn't trust this but everyone around him seemed to.
They turned toward BlackJacks, the casino tower that hid the UCL entrance through an elevator on the inside of the machine-made neon wonder.
The second they stepped onto the main crosswalk, a voice cut clean through the noise.
“Been waiting for you.”
They turned.
Otto stood half a block away, watching them like they’d made him wait too long.
Pom leaf between his teeth. Jacket half-zipped. Dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept since the blackout.
He didn’t smile today.
“Walk with me.”
Without hesitation they followed.
Something bigger than the UCL or any of the betting lines Otto was in on was happening in X'Omnera and Triple Kill wasn't going to remain in the dark about.
They moved behind Otto as he led them away from the neon crowds, down a side street lit only by gutter lights and rain reflection.
Otto leaned slightly toward Riven without breaking stride.
“Stay sharp.”
Riven nodded once instinctively then looked toward Set.
"What the hell does that mean," he mouthed under his breath.
Talla adjusted her hood, eyes tracking the rooftops.
The sound of the Pulse faded behind them.
The inevitability of something else ahead.
And they moved, as Predators ready to eliminate whatever it was.
Predators walking into someone else’s territory, more than willing to kill their way out.
And Otto felt it.
He could feel the shift in them since the blackout.
Most people would’ve folded after witnessing what they saw. Especially kids their age a long way from home.
Yet.
Triple Kill was sharpening.
They turned a final corner and the noise of the Pulse vanished behind them like a door shutting.
Ahead was a warehouse built into the docks.
Dark steel.
Yellow hazard paint cracked down the sides.
Two cargo trucks idled beside it, engines humming.
Men in cartel colors filtered in and out, boxing equipment, stacking crates, loading weapons equipped with new tech.
Heavy energy hung in the air.
Something big was moving tonight.
Otto finally stopped, exhaled once, and looked back at them.
“Welcome to the real Pulse,” he said. “Try not to have too much fun in here.”
Behind him, the warehouse doors slid open.
Inside stood the man from yesterday.
Gable.
The one who looked at them like he owned them.
Only tonight… he didn’t look like someone’s UCL sponsor.
He looked like someone preparing for war.
⟢───── Ashes × Aether ─────⟣