Loki opened his eyes.
The room was white. Not the grey-white of camp stone, but something clean and sharp, lit from above by light that had no source he could see.
He was stripped to a chair his brown robes gone, replaced by thin white cloth that clung to his skin. His arms were locked to the armrests with cold metal cuffs. His ankles, too. A gag pressed against his mouth.
He tried to move. Nothing.
Across from him, Tars sat bound to another chair. Her eyes were open. She stared at him. She seemed to have been awake for a while.
Beside her, Mari was noding her head slowly, her breath coming fast through her nose.
Loki looked around. The teenagers were all in white robes, all bound, all gagged. Some were still unconscious, their heads lolling. Others were waking now, eyes darting, bodies straining against the cuffs.
The chairs were comfortable. That was the strangest part. Soft fabric, smooth wood. Nothing in this room was like anything he had ever seen. The floor shone like black water. The walls were seamless, unbroken. It felt like being inside a painting of a place that didn't exist.
A door opened.
Masked figures entered men and women in white robes, their faces hidden behind smooth white masks. They moved in silence, each walking to one of the twelve chairs. Priest Light followed behind them, his green robes a splash of color in the white room.
At each chair, a masked figure opened a metal box. Cold air spilled out, white mist curling over the edges.
Loki's heart slammed against his ribs.
"Dear ones." Priest Light's voice was soft, almost gentle. He walked between the chairs, touching shoulders, smoothing hair. "The path of evolution is a cruel one. This is the beginning of something greater something you cannot yet imagine."
He stopped beside a boy, placed a hand on his head.
"We do this for all mankind. The monsters that plague these lands grow stronger every day. Every season they push further. Every year we lose more ground." He lifted his hand and moved on.
"You have been chosen to become strong. Strong enough to fight back. Strong enough to save us all."
He reached the center of the room and turned slowly, taking in all twelve faces.
"Humanity is on the verge of being wiped out. You are our hope."
He clapped his hands once.
"Let the injection begin."
Loki turned his head. The masked figure beside him was preparing a needle long, thin, filled with q red coloured syrup . The figure cleaned his arm with a white cloth, rubbed a cold liquid into his skin, and pressed the needle into his vein.
Loki felt it slide in. He tried to scream through the gag, but only a muffled sound came out. The liquid burned as it entered him, something that spread through his blood like roots through soil.
The masked figure finished, withdrew the needle, and stepped back. All twelve masked figures moved to the door. Priest Light followed, pausing at the threshold.
"Whatever pain you feel, fight through it. This is for all mankind."
He closed the door.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then the first scream came muffled by a gag, but still terrible
. Loki looked to his left. A boy was convulsing in his chair, his body slamming against the cuffs, the chair vibrating against the floor. Then another. Another.
Loki felt it begin in his chest, a pressure, a heat, something uncoiling in his veins. His hands clenched. His back arched. His head tipped back and he saw the light above, blinding and white, and then he couldn't see anything at all.
Pain.
There was no other word for it. No description that could hold it. It was in his bones, his teeth, his hair. It burned through him and froze him at the same time. He felt his heart beating not the gentle rhythm he had known his whole life, but something enormous, something that shook his whole body with every pulse.
He tried to scream. The gag held.
Through the haze, he saw Tars. Her brown hair was changing color, strand by strand, turning the blue of a winter sky. He saw it happening to others, too hair shifting, skin paling, veins standing out against their necks like rivers on a map.
His own head was burning. His fingers were numb. He tried to kick, to snap the cuffs, to do anything but his body wasn't his anymore. It was something happening to him, something he could only endure
.
He didn't know how long it lasted. Minutes. Hours. There was no time here. Only pain.
The smell of burning meat woke him.
Loki opened his eyes to smoke. The white room was grey now, hazy, the light from above struggling to reach the floor. He was lying on the ground the chair was gone, shattered into pieces around him.
His white robes were torn, half-burned. His skin was red and raw in places, but the pain had changed. It was still there, deep in his bones, but now there was something else beneath it.
Strength.
He pushed himself up. His arms shook, but they held. His fingers he looked at them were normal. Still his. But different. He could feel something moving beneath the skin, something waiting.
The room was wrecked. Chairs reduced to splinters. Two of the teenagers were on fire real fire, their bodies burning where they lay, and no one moved to help them because there was no one left to help anyone.
"Mari."
The word came out as a croak. Loki crawled across the floor, his hands slipping on the polished surface. The smoke stung his eyes, but he kept moving.
"Tars."
A voice answered. Desperate. Close.
"Loki."
He followed the sound and found Tars kneeling on the floor, her hands pressed against her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her hair was fully blue now, stark against her pale face. In her arms, cradled against her body, was Mari.
Loki crawled faster. He reached them and Tars shifted, letting him take Mari into his arms.
She was so light.
Her hair was blue too, bright and strange against her face. Blood tears had dried on her cheeks two red tracks from her eyes, which were now white, sightless. Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, slow and dark.
But she was breathing. Loki felt it against his chest.
"Loki. Tars." Mari's voice was a whisper, barely there. "I don't feel so good."
Tars leaned closer, , Loki saw now, "You're okay," Tars said. "You're fine. It hurts for me too. But we're fine."
Loki held Mari tighter, pressing her against his chest as if he could pour his own strength into her.
"Mari. Please."
"I felt so much pain," Mari said. Her lips moved slowly, like she was learning to speak all over again.
"But it seems peaceful now."
She lifted a hand thin, trembling and touched Loki's face. Her fingers were cold.
"Promise me you'll fight," she said. "Save all mankind. That's what we have to do now, right? That's what the book said."
Loki couldn't speak. He nodded against her hand.
"Loki," Mari said. "Do you hate Priest Light? For doing this to us?"
"I will kill them all," Tars said. Her voice was flat, empty, but Loki heard the fire beneath it.
"No." Mari's fingers tightened on Loki's cheek. "Don't forget. The enemy is the monsters. We have to go through this so we can become evolvers. That's what we saw in the book. The kid strapped to the chair. They said it was painful."
"They didn't say we could die," Tars whispered.
Mari smiled. It was small and tired and beautiful. "If they did, we would never choose to be evolvers. And mankind would fall."
She turned her head slightly, her white eyes searching for something she couldn't see.
"Loki. Why are you quiet?"
He was sobbing. He hadn't realized it until now, the tears cutting tracks through the blood and ash on his face.
"I love you, Mari."
She smiled again. Her hand dropped from his face, too weak to hold on any longer.
"Loki," she said. "Will you put me to bed?"
He pulled her closer, his arms around her, his face against her blue hair.
"Yes," he said. "Yes. One day we'll walk on the green fields together. You and me. I'll be your provider. Your shield. Someone you can rely on."
Mari's breath slowed.
"That sounds nice," she whispered.
And then she was gone.
Loki felt it, the moment her body went slack, the last breath leaving her lungs. He held her tighter, as if he could call her back, as if his arms were strong enough to pull her soul back into her body.
Then her body began to burn.
It started in her hair, the blue strands curling and blackening, and spread down her face, her shoulders, her chest. Loki didn't let go. He held her as she burned, the heat searing his arms, his chest, his face. He held her because letting go would mean admitting she was gone, and he couldn't do that, he couldn't
Tars screamed. As she arms around him and Mari, the two of them pressed together as Mari's body burned between them.
They screamed together. As the door opened and footsteps neared in on them.