The Prophet Part I

The girl shakes Shiro awake.

"I found a way," The girl whispers, eyes bright with excitement. "We can go home."

Shiro rubs sleep from her eyes. "Home?"

The girl nods. "Quick, before they notice."

They slip through shadows, past empty halls that smell of antiseptic and fear. Shiro's heart pounds against her ribs like a trapped bird. The metal collar around her neck feels heavier with each step.

Outside, the world stretches vast and broken. Buildings lean like crooked teeth against the sky. The girl grabs her hand and they run, bare feet hitting concrete. The collar beeps once, twice.

"Almost there," The girl pants. "Just over that hill."

Shiro's legs burn but she doesn't slow down. She remembers warm beds and Mother's smile and story time before bed. Just a little further.

They crest the hill and stop dead. Where the orphanage should be, there's only black bones reaching toward the sky.

"No," The girl breathes. "No, no, no."

The collars beep faster now, a frantic rhythm that matches Shiro's racing pulse. Lights pierce the darkness. Men in uniforms materialize from the shadows, their boots crunching on broken glass.

The girl squeezes Shiro's hand so tight it hurts. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry."

***

The heavy stench of industrial waste hangs over Bonaparte's dock as Shiro guides her ship into port.

"You haven't changed at all," she mutters, echoing Marcus's words to her in Pallas. She'd failed him twice now - once when she'd rejected his offer of trust, and again when he sacrificed his life for hers. The weight of it sits like lead in her chest.

But better to keep moving, keep running. After all, that's what she does best… right?

Shiro snaps away from her thoughts. In that moment, something feels off. The dock is too quiet, too still.

Movement erupts from behind the shipping containers. Guards in respirator masks emerge, weapons raised, surrounding her in a tight circle.

"Don't move!" Their filtered voices echo across the empty pier. "Hands where we can see them!"

The guards' Gonydeal armor shimmers, adapting to Shiro's movements as she launches forward. Her talons scrape against the reinforced fabric, leaving no mark. A guard swings the butt of his cybergun - she ducks, the weapon whistling past her head.

Metal creaks above as Shiro leaps onto a loading crane's arm. The guards' shots ping off steel. She runs along the narrow beam, white hair streaming behind her. Two guards climb after her while others maintain their firing positions below.

Shiro drops, catching one of the guards by surprise. Her claws find the gap between helmet and collar - blood sprays. The guard tumbles into an empty shipping container with a hollow boom.

Shiro strikes at the other guard, her blow meeting their armor. The smart fabric ripples and hardens instantly, deflecting her attack. Before she can recover, a guard lands a heavy blow to her ribs, driving her backward into a storage tank.

Using the tank as cover, she waits until a guard rounds the corner. Her leg sweeps his feet. As he falls, she drives her knee into his throat where the armor is thinnest. His gurgling echoes across the dock.

Three guards remain. Shiro feints left, then springs right. She grabs a hanging chain and swings, boots connecting with a guard's chest. The impact sends him crashing through rotting wooden planks into the water below.

The last two guards back away, weapons raised. Shiro vaults over a stack of crates. Her claws find purchase in one guard's respirator. She rips it free - he chokes on Bonaparte's toxic air, collapsing.

The final guard empties his clip. Shiro weaves between bullets, closing the distance. Her talons catch light as she strikes. The Gonydeal fabric strains, finally giving way under her strength. The guard slumps, armor torn and bloody.

More guards pour from the shadows between shipping containers, their Gonydeal armor gleaming in Bonaparte's hazy light. Shiro's chest heaves as she counts the reinforcements - twelve new hostiles, their weapons trained on her position.

A guard lunges. Shiro sidesteps, but her reactions have dulled. Her counter-strike misses as the smart fabric adapts, hardening against her talons. Another guard catches her leg with a sweeping kick. She rolls with the fall, coming up in a defensive crouch.

The circle tightens. Shiro's eyes dart between opponents, searching for an opening. She springs at a gap in their formation - too slow. A guard catches her sleeve, fabric tearing to reveal scaled flesh underneath.

"The target's compromised!" A filtered voice calls out. "Take her down!"

The guards swarm her. Hands grab her arms, pinning them behind her back. She thrashes against their grip, but her strength fails her. Through blurred vision, she sees a guard approach with a crackling stun baton.

Electricity arcs through Shiro's body as a stun baton connects with her spine. Her muscles seize. The world blurs. She thrashes against the guards, but each movement grows weaker. Another shock sends her vision swimming.

The dock's metal surface rushes up to meet her face. Through fading consciousness, she hears the clanging of steel.

"Get the containment unit ready."

Darkness takes her.