𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 ༒ 𝑨𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒆

01. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

"I'll rewrite the rules of this game."

━━━━━━━

Riven was used to pain — the burning, the itching, the aches. She found comfort in the twisting of knives, the sharp points of rugged needles, the rusted edges of blunted steel. Within them, she found a resemblance of humanity. A tattered reminder that she was alive, breathing in the toxic fumes of the underground in rugged breaths that threatened to concave her chest.

Her footsteps pounded against her eardrums like an explosion, deafening her to the taunts and shouts trailing behind her. Riven knew the streets of the underground city as if she had built them herself. Every alleyway, every street, and every building was imbedded into her mind like a photograph. Turning a sharp corner into a dark alley, Riven rammed her shoulder into the sharp point of a bricked wall in an effort to stop herself from slowing down. The skin of her shoulder thrummed with an aching burn, but Riven could barely feel it over the pounding of her heartbeat.

The alley was dark, like the rest of the underground city, but Riven was built to overcome such a small obstacle. The veins in her arms began to burn, and she could feel the blood travel through her body with a painful tremor she was used to. The shouts from behind her began to catch up, and Riven began to fumble. She tried to ignore the darkening of her veins, the twitching of her neck, or the sense of power overcoming every other sensation.

All she needed to do was get to the objective and this would be over. The goons behind her were insubstantial, nothing but a distraction. He wanted her to fail, or she thought he did. He wanted her to become better.

No matter how powerful Riven became, it was never enough. She needed more strength, more intelligence, more stealth, more agility. There was always more.

Reaching the crossroads in the middle of the alley, Riven stopped. The whooping from behind her became louder and louder and louder, bouncing between her ears and the walls of the alley. They laughed, similar to how a child might laugh when playing a game, as if they knew they had her cornered and defeated.

But, no one could defeat Riven.

Silco made sure of that.

"Come on, Doll. Hand it over and we'll leave ya alone." One of them taunted with a chuckle, and Riven could feel the phantom presence of his hand ghosting over her shoulder. He hadn't touched her yet, but he would. And when he did, she'd kill them all.

"Just give us the vial," another of them sneered, his voice dripping with craving need. All these men were addicted, fumbling through life with the sole goal of getting their next fix. No one would miss them, not even Silco.

Standing firm and still, Riven waited. These men were volatile, angry, hungry. They weren't patient men, but Riven could wait as long as necessary.

Then, finally, the first man who spoke got impatient and did exactly as she expected; he placed his hand on her shoulder heavily, in an effort to turn her around. But, Riven didn't budge. Her body jerked with his rough tugging, but she remained firm in place.

In one quick movement, Riven reached her hand up and grabbed onto his wrist and pulled. The veins in her arms and neck pulsated with power, turning a disgusting violet under her skin. Riven had no doubt her eyes had turned pink as a result. With little effort, Riven threw the man over her shoulder and onto his back on the floor.