Chapter 3Queen Rising From The Ruins

Day three in Sector D was colder.

The crude bandages on my hands were soaked through. The old scabs had split open, accompanied by a fresh layer of raw cuts.

I was hunched over, trying to tighten the bloody strip of fabric with my teeth, when a sickly-sweet voice floated over the toxic wind.

"Cara?"

Debby stood a few feet away, bundled in a pristine, white down coat that looked entirely out of place in the apocalypse. "Oh my god. Why are you out here doing this kind of grunt work?"

Before I could answer, she practically skipped over the debris and crouched in front of me. When she saw the ruined state of my hands, she let out a dramatic gasp.

"Holden is just too much sometimes. How could he leave you out here all alone?"

She knitted her perfectly plucked brows together, reached out, and pressed her gloved hands directly over my bleeding palm. "Let me heal you. Don't move."

I didn't have the strength to pull away before a surge of meta-energy rushed from her palms into my veins.

Instantly, my entire body went rigid.

That energy... it was completely alien to my own.

This wasn't purification.

I could feel it with absolute clarity. The energy was thick, sluggish. It was merely suppressing the pain receptors and forcing the skin to stitch itself together.

But the Blight—the toxic source—was still festering underneath.

It was the equivalent of slapping duct tape over a bullet hole. It looked pretty on the outside, but underneath, the poison was multiplying.

"Cara, Holden told me about you," Debby murmured.

Seeing my frozen expression, the corner of her mouth ticked up into a nasty, triumphant little smirk. "He said you were so easy to manipulate."

She paused, tilting her head as if considering her words. "Sorry. I’m just a really blunt person. Don't take it personally."

"I won't," I said, my voice dead flat.

She stood up, daintily brushing a speck of gray ash from her designer coat. She looked down at me, her eyes cold. "But you really can't blame Holden. It’s the end of the world. Everyone has to look out for themselves. He couldn't drag dead weight around forever, right?"

"Right," I muttered, my mind racing a million miles an hour.

Debby beamed, pleased with my submission. But her smile vanished the second I opened my mouth again.

"Are you really a Purifier?"

I locked eyes with her, refusing to blink. "I felt your energy."

"What you just put in my body isn't a purification reaction. It’s a temporary suppressant. The Blight is still inside me."

Her breath hitched. She took a quick step back. "Cara, you’re just a low-tier Healer. What do you know about purification mechanics?"

"I know enough," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "And I definitely know more than you."

I reached out and grabbed her wrist—the one dripping with silver bracelets she’d likely looted from the Core's vault.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar broad-shouldered silhouette striding toward us through the fog.

In a split second, Debby’s entire demeanor violently shifted. She recoiled as if she’d been burned, her eyes instantly welling with fat, desperate tears.

"Cara, please don't do this..."

The tears spilled over flawlessly.

"I know you hate me, but the Citadel needs me! If you hurt me, you’ll doom everyone..."

I blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer cinematic quality of her pivot.

Before I could even process it, the heavy crunch of combat boots slammed into the gravel behind me.

"Cara!"

And then came the deafening crack of a palm striking bone.