Team Decopunk--Epic Tales from Beautiful Minds

Chapter 5: Firefighter

Love Guides The Wandering Star --Part 4: By Holly_Gonzalez

She came to with a crash of her senses. Was it sweat or tears that dampened her cheeks? She was void, forgotten, cast aside like the tarnished old car she'd once given to Fray. Of what use was she to a world that valued only blind allegiance and conformity? Shall I bleed my last and give them the defeat they want--to see me crumble and cower before tyranny, the very beast I've struggled against all my life?

Flecks of light shifted before her eyes like ethereal snowflakes, dreams between the realms of here and then, without and within. She carried Brune's pain and triumphs,even now sensed the futility of the fallen actress's aspirations and vanity. Brune had been a manifestation of excess, the ideal of Margritte's achievements. Wings were made to be broken, it seemed. But, in the midst of such a void, where death beckoned with its promise of release, Margritte remembered Fray and the mysterious revelation of the portal. Might this elusive gateway be a chance to set herself--and everyone else--free from the Party?

The patterns had appeared again in the last trial. Words that echoed in her soul. The cigarettes she reached for when she craved solace. The Chrysalis and its resemblance to Fray's forgotten car. And always, when Margritte collapsed in ruin, a friend appeared to aid her.

Never alone. Life fights on, and so must I.

The judges gloated over her outward distress.

"In that trial, we noticed signs of quality," the female judge said. "Self-sacrifice for the benefit of the people is commendable."

"You showed more potential there, Fraulein," another judge added. "Continue thus, and your fidelity gains merit. I suspect a patriot does reside in you, but I want more evidence."

The Professor wiped perspiration from Margritte's brow with a soft handkerchief. "You're brave to have come this far. The next trial is of revelation. Secrets we often keep from ourselves lie herein." He gave an odd grin. "Such lovely earrings. Good luck charms, I presume?"

Margritte studied him. What did he know?

Heat seared her veins when the interface serum flooded her system. The Psychometer's buzzing rays illuminated a cityscape within her skull. She gasped, each breath an ordeal. "Fire. Everything burns. One seeks to destroy...another seeks the destroyer. Through relentless vigilance, I hunt an inferno. My name is Nicholas."

She no longer dreaded the entrance storm. She'd already died in psi-space, yet had emerged alive. What could be worse than a vicarious death?

The next title appeared on the telescreen, licked by scarlet and amber flames. Foundations of once-proud buildings charred to ashes. A shadowy menace slipped down an alley, just out of sight, and someone chased it through the smoke. The hidden trail of patterns called to her. Burning with conviction, she stirred within the guise of a new persona.