Nova's Blade

Chapter 12

Nova stands on the rooftop balcony, her hair dancing in the gentle breeze as she gazes at the cityscape. The metropolis stretches out before her, a maze of gleaming towers and hovercars humming through the air like metallic bees. The weight of recent events etches itself onto Nova's face. In this moment, the absence of camera drones in the sky provides her with a slight and rare sense of privacy and solitude.

The soft sound of footsteps draws Nova's attention to Fable's approach from behind on the empty balcony. "Had to escape the relentless gaze of the cameras too?" she asks softly, her voice laced with empathy.

Nova shakes her head, her voice a fragile whisper as tears threaten to spill. "I can't believe it. She's gone, just like that."

Fable releases a mournful sigh, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It was inevitable, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Nova's eyes widen in disbelief as she turns to face Fable.

"Look, nobody wanted this, but we can't afford to cry about it, not now," Fable asserts, her voice a mix of gentleness and resolve. "We have to watch out for each other."

Nova lowers her head, her gaze wandering back to the city below. A memory flickers to life, causing her voice to tremble.

"Remember that field trip to the candy factory?"

A melancholic smile tugs at Fable's lips. "Yeah, your dad was a chaperone. We made a game of outrunning him, and it was priceless to see his panic when we hid in the candy pool."

Nova manages a weak chuckle. "That is, until he whooped my ass when we got home."

"I shared in the parental wrath too," Fable admits with a grin.

I'd give anything to return to those times," Nova says.

They exchange bittersweet smiles before Nova's expression turns somber.

"Doesn't it scare you? The thought of one or both of us dying, never seeing Saylor again?"

Fable inhales deeply, her voice thick with emotion.

"Yes, it terrifies me."

She places her hand on Nova's shoulder, her eyes brimming with determination.

"But until that time comes, I'll be right beside you."

In that moment, the two friends embrace, their arms wrapped tightly around one another, seeking solace and strength amidst the uncertainty of their fate.

Octavian sits silently in the hovercar, his face etched with grief. The neon lights of the cityscape flicker outside the window, casting a melancholy glow on his features. He seems lost in his thoughts, the weight of the recent events heavy on his shoulders.

As the hovercar smoothly glides to a stop in front of the grand ballroom, Octavian takes a deep breath, wiping his tears. With a final glance at his reflection in the window, he settles into a composed and serene expression, determined to face the world.

Stepping out of the hovercar, Octavian stands tall and poised, his demeanor now calm and collected. The door automatically swings open, revealing the bustling scene of laughter and chatter in the grand ballroom.

The ballroom quiets as Octavian enters, the attendees surrounding him with concern and anticipation. The silence hangs heavy in the air. A heavy silence engulfs the ballroom. In that instant, Octavian's demeanor shifts. His face lights up with a practiced smile, his eyes sparkling with a well-rehearsed charm.

"You know what they say, there's always more fish in the sea," he quips, his words dripping with charm.

His remark acts like a spell, effortlessly uplifting the mood. The crowd responds with laughter and delight, their concerns momentarily cast aside. As the atmosphere becomes lively once more, the partygoers eagerly return to their conversations and festivities. Meanwhile, Octavian mingles with infectious enthusiasm, entertaining people and spreading cheer.

As Nova glides across the grand ballroom floor, the shimmering chandeliers casting a soft glow, Venus suddenly grasps her arm, halting her in place.

"Nova, darling," Venus murmurs, her tone sharp but hushed, eyes fixed on Octavius, who dazzles the crowd with his magnetic charm. "This is your moment. Seize it."

"But... he just witnessed a death. It doesn't feel right," Nova replies, her voice quivering with uncertainity.

"Does it seem like he's sad?" Venus challenges, gesturing towards Octavius who throws his head back in laughter, cradling a glass of wine as he dances with fluid elegance. "Opportunity has presented itself, my dear. Bella's passing has created a void, and you have the power to fill it. Win Octavius's favor, and the world will be at your feet. Fail, and you'll fade into obscurity. The choice is yours."

With a gentle yet insistent nudge, Venus propels Nova forward. Nova hesitates, her steps uncertain, and she casts a pleading glance back. Venus offers a reassuring nod, silently urging her to seize the moment and approach Octavius, who remains unaware with his back turned toward them.

Taking a deep breath, Nova slowly closes the distance, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest as determination battles with her nerves. As Octavius turns around, his warm smile still lingering, he meets Nova's eyes, now filled with a mix of determination and anxiety. He opens his mouth to speak, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Octavius Firestone!" a voice thunders.

Heads swivel towards Detective Ulysses, who stands opposite Octavius, sweat trickling down his temples as his chest heaves in trepidation.

"What do you want?" Octavius inquires, his interest aroused.

With quivering fingers, Ulysses aims a gun at Octavius. Screams of panic pierce the air as a suffocating tension envelops the room. "Taranis Kane sends a message."

Octavius's eyes widen in shock as Ulysses pulls the trigger, the gunshot echoing throughout the ballroom. He crumples to the floor, his hand clutching at his chest. Almost simultaneously, a hail of bullets tears through the air, shredding Ulysses's body. The security guards, their weapons still smoking, stride purposefully toward the lifeless form of the detective.

"He's dead!" a guard announces, his voice filled with grim certainty.

A horrified scream cuts through the ballroom, all eyes shifting to the injured Octavius. Nova, her face splattered with blood, stands frozen in shock.

"Please... don't let me die," Octavius gasps, his bloodied hand reaching out to Nova, desperation etched on his features.

The chilling memory of Marco's cold stare flashes through Nova's mind, jolting her into action. Dropping to her knees beside Octavius, Nova's hands tremble, but she forces them steady as she assesses the wound. The scent of blood and gunpowder fills her nostrils, sharpening her focus.

With urgency, Nova snatches a cloth from a nearby table, the coarse fabric rough against her fingers. She presses it firmly to Octavius's gunshot wound, her heart racing as she strives to staunch the bleeding. Checking for an exit wound, she finds none. Her eyes dart around the room.

"I need a belt!" she demands.

A hesitant attendant hands her one. Swiftly, she wraps it above the wound to fashion a makeshift tourniquet, meticulously adjusting the pressure to minimize blood loss.

Throughout the ordeal, Nova continuously checks Octavius's pulse and respiration. He trembles, fear clouding his eyes. Meeting his gaze, she reassures him,

"You're going to make it."

The onlookers watch in disbelief, unable to assist. Paramedics charge into the room, armed with cutting-edge equipment. They scan Octavius's face, the device beaming a green light upon recognition. They assess his vitals.

"He's stable!" a paramedic announces, relief flooding his voice.

With expert precision, they transfer Octavius onto a hovering stretcher and whisk him away, the awestruck crowd parting to let them pass. A heavy silence descends upon the room, the magnitude of the event weighing on everyone present. An attendant breaks the silence with a grin, clapping her hands together.

"Way to go, Nova!"

A throng of people encircles Nova, their expressions beaming with pride and admiration. The applause catches on, spreading like wildfire throughout the crowd, growing louder until all join in. Nova, overwhelmed by the attention, offers a timid smile. As the applause continues, Fable stands slightly apart from the cheering crowd, her hands hesitating and remaining still by her side, a subtle shadow flickering across her face.