the silent theft

The barracks were filled with the heavy rhythm of marching boots. The officer with the cybernetic eye was inches away from Litus, his gaze scanning for any sign of guilt. On his belt, the silver pendant swayed—a ghost from Litus’s past.

"Look at me, boy," the officer growled.

Behind him, Kael caught Litus’s eye and gave a subtle nod. Suddenly, a nearby pressure valve hissed violently, exploding in a cloud of thick, white steam. The soldiers jumped, weapons raised.

Now, Litus thought.

He didn't run. He let his Instinct take over. The world slowed to a crawl. The gray walls of the barracks turned into a blur, and for a heartbeat, Litus felt weightless. It wasn't speed; it was as if he were slipping through the cracks of time itself.

He reached out. His fingers brushed the cold silver of the pendant.

The moment he touched it, a jolt of electricity—no, memory—seared through his mind. He saw a laboratory of glass and bone. He saw Tusa, chained, staring at a massive, holographic image of the Mountain.

The vision snapped. The steam cleared. Litus was back in his spot, the pendant hidden in his palm.

But the officer had stopped. He slowly turned his head toward Litus, his cybernetic eye spinning rapidly, glowing a lethal shade of crimson. "You," he whispered, his hand moving toward his holster. "Your heartbeat just skipped a second. That's impossible for a human."