The bar was dimly lit, a haze of cigarette smoke hovering in the air, mingling with the faint scent of spilled beer and cheap whiskey. A quiet hum of conversation filled the space, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Zoey sat at the counter, her towering frame perched on a stool far too small for her size. She nursed a drink, her cybernetic fingers idly tapping against the glass as she watched Etrius out of the corner of her eye.
Etrius had been uncharacteristically tense since they arrived. He glanced around the room as though searching for someone before signaling to the bartender to keep Zoey's tab open. Zoey's sharp gaze didn’t miss the small bead of sweat on his temple or the slight hesitation in his movements.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, stripes?” Zoey asked, her voice low but tinged with suspicion.
Etrius exhaled deeply, turning to face her fully. “I need you to keep an open mind, Zoey.”
“Open mind? That doesn’t sound good.” She set her glass down with a dull thud, her ears flicking back. “What are you dragging me into this time?”
Etrius hesitated, his green eyes locking onto hers. “I need you to meet someone. She’s in the back room.”
Zoey narrowed her eyes, her tail flicking sharply. “Someone? You’re being cryptic, and that usually means trouble.”
“She’s… complicated. Just...when you see her, don’t jump to conclusions.”
Zoey’s fur bristled slightly, and she slid off the stool with a metallic creak from her armor. “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”
The two made their way through the crowded bar, weaving between patrons until they reached a heavy door at the back. Etrius paused with his hand on the handle, glancing at Zoey one last time.
“Promise me you’ll hear me out before you do anything,” he said, his tone firm.
Zoey’s gaze sharpened. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh? Fine. I’ll listen.”
Etrius pushed the door open, revealing a small, dimly lit room with a single table. Sitting at the far end was Voss. She was leaning back in her chair, her glowing red eyes meeting Zoey’s immediately.
Zoey froze. Her sharp inhale was audible as her mind raced. The face. The glaive. The glowing red eyes. Every detail screamed Ravenna Wildfire.
Her instincts took over. In a blur of motion, Zoey drew her massive revolver from her side and leveled it at Voss, the blade beneath the barrel gleaming under the dim light. “You’ve got five seconds to explain why you’re not dead, Ravenna.”
Voss’s ears flattened against her head, her glowing scars pulsing faintly as she raised her hands slowly. She remained seated, her expression a mix of fear and confusion.
Etrius moved before Zoey could take a step forward, placing himself between the two women. “Put the gun down, Zoey!” His voice was calm but firm, his hands raised in a gesture of peace.
Zoey’s eyes darted between Etrius and Voss, her grip on the revolver unwavering. “What the hell are you doing, Etrius? Protecting her? Have you lost your damn mind?”
“She’s not Ravenna!” he shot back, his voice steady. “Look at her.”
Zoey bared her teeth, her gun still locked on Voss. “Don’t give me that crap. She bleached her fur, dyed her hair, and, what? You think that’s gonna fool me?”
“She’s not Ravenna,” Etrius repeated, his voice softening slightly. “She’s a clone. A failed attempt at bringing Ravenna back, but without all the baggage.”
Zoey’s tail lashed behind her, her finger hovering over the trigger. “And you believe her? After everything she did to you? To Julia?”
Etrius’s jaw tightened at the mention of Julia, but he didn’t move. “I believe what I’ve seen, and I’ve seen enough to know she’s not the same. Look at her, Zoey.”
Zoey’s eyes flicked to Voss again, her hand trembling slightly. The subtle differences began to register: the red hair instead of black and red, the white fur unmarred by Ravenna’s grey-and-black pattern, the faint glow tracing scars. But the face, the eyes, the glaive, it was too much. Too close.
“I don’t like this, Etrius,” Zoey growled, her voice low and filled with tension.
“Neither do I,” he admitted. “But she’s not our enemy. She needs our help.”
Zoey’s eyes narrowed. “You’re really betting everything on that, huh?”
Etrius nodded slowly. “I am. Now lower the gun.”
Zoey hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and Voss. Her breathing was heavy, her heart racing. Finally, with a low growl, she lowered the revolver, though her hand didn’t leave the grip.
“This better be worth it,” she muttered. “Start talking.”
Zoey didn’t lower her weapon much as she sat across from Voss. The massive revolver rested on the table, the bayonet gleaming under the dim light, a constant reminder of her distrust. Etrius took the seat beside Zoey, his expression calm but watchful. Voss, meanwhile, sat stiffly, her hands resting on the edge of the table, her glowing red eyes flicking between the two.
For a few moments, the room was silent, tension hanging thick in the air. Finally, Voss spoke, her voice soft and hesitant.
“I… I know what you think of me,” she began, her words carrying an undercurrent of unease. “I know what I look like. And I know what she did. But I’m not her.”
Zoey’s ears twitched, but she said nothing. Her gaze remained locked on Voss, unyielding and suspicious.
Voss took a deep breath, her hands gripping the edge of the table a little tighter. “I was created by people who wanted to bring her back. People who thought they could recreate Ravenna Wildfire and her… ideology. But they failed. They didn’t know how to give me her mind, her memories, her hatred. They gave me this face, this body, and that weapon...” she gestured to the glaive resting against the wall behind her “...but I’m not her.”
Zoey leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. “Convenient story. But if you’re not her, then what are you?”
“I’m…” Voss faltered for a moment before continuing. “I’m just me. I don’t even know who I am, really. I woke up in a lab, surrounded by people trying to force her beliefs into me, trying to make me into something I’m not. When I couldn’t be what they wanted, they turned to someone else.”
Etrius shifted in his seat, his voice calm but firm as he added context. “Rallus. RV2, as they call him now. Petrovich’s first experiment.”
Zoey glanced at Etrius, her grip tightening on the revolver. “You’re saying that snake’s still alive? I thought he was dead and buried long before either of us showed up.”
“He was,” Etrius replied. “The original Rallus was a warm-blooded lizard, a chimera like me. Petrovich used him to test his theories, but his body couldn’t sustain itself. He died young. But Rallus was smart, brilliant, even. He helped design the projects that created Ravenna… and me.”
Voss nodded, her glowing scars pulsing faintly as she spoke. “The cultists somehow recovered what was left of him and rebuilt him. They turned him into an android, a machine with all of his intelligence and none of his mortality. And they programmed him with their twisted version of Ravenna’s beliefs. It’s… worse than what she ever was.”
Zoey’s expression darkened, her tail flicking sharply behind her. “Worse how?”
Voss’s voice grew quieter, tinged with sorrow. “He doesn’t just want control. He wants annihilation. He believes that anyone who doesn’t follow their ideals doesn’t deserve to exist. He’s already started building forces in St. Petersburg, turning the ruins into his stronghold.”
Etrius leaned forward, his green eyes fixed on Zoey. “Voss fled the cultists when they tried to indoctrinate her. She’s been on the run ever since, trying to figure out how to stop Rallus. She’s right, on her own, she can’t take him down. Neither can we, not individually. But together…”
Voss looked at Zoey, her glowing red eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I don’t want to be her. I don’t want to be Ravenna. I want to stop what she started. I need your help.”
Zoey sat back in her chair, her ears flattening against her head as she processed the information. The pieces of the story fit together, but the face across the table was still Ravenna’s. It gnawed at her instincts, filling her with doubt and anger.
“And you really think the three of us can take down a walking tank?” Zoey asked, her voice laced with skepticism.
Voss nodded firmly. “I do. I’ve seen what he can do, and I’ve seen what both of you can do. Together, we have a chance. If we don’t stop him now, there won’t be anything or anyone left to save.”
Zoey exhaled sharply, her metal fingers tapping against the revolver’s grip. Her mind raced with memories of Ravenna, of Etrius’s suffering, of the destruction left in her wake. She looked at Etrius, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but found none.
Finally, she looked back at Voss, her gaze hard. “You’d better not be lying. Because if this is a trick, I’ll make sure you go down before I do.”
Voss met her glare, her voice steady despite her timid demeanor. “I wouldn’t blame you. But it’s not a trick. I promise.”
The room fell silent again, the weight of the situation settling over them. Zoey didn’t holster her gun, but she leaned back slightly, her posture relaxing by a fraction.
“Alright,” she said finally. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t think for a second that I trust you.”
The tension in the back room of the bar lingered like a haze as Zoey leaned back in her chair, finally lowering her revolver. Voss, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere, spoke with an earnest determination, her thick Russian accent punctuating each word. Zoey’s ears twitched at the sound, a warm flush spreading under her scales that she desperately tried to suppress.
Get it together, Zoey thought, her tail curling behind her in irritation. She’s not even your type. You just met her. You threatened her. What the hell is wrong with you?
But her mind wasn’t cooperating. Voss’s bioluminescent scars, glowing faintly along her pristine white fur, drew Zoey’s gaze despite herself. And that voice. It was smooth, deliberate, with a depth that made Zoey’s heart pound in ways she hated to acknowledge. She shifted in her seat, breaking her eyes away to focus on Etrius as he spoke about the logistics of their next move.
Etrius, however, noticed Zoey’s unusual silence. He shot her a sidelong glance, his sharp green eyes studying her before returning his focus to the discussion. If he knew what was going through her mind, he didn’t let it show.
Meanwhile, Voss continued laying out the details of Rallus’s operation, her hands gesturing lightly as she spoke. “He is building something… a factory, maybe. The cultists worship him like a god, but he is no god. Just a machine with too much power and no morality.”
Zoey tried to focus on the words, on the gravity of the situation. But her thoughts betrayed her again, drifting to the way Voss’s lips moved as she spoke, the way her crimson eyes glimmered faintly in the dim light. The absurdity of her attraction felt like a slap in the face. What kind of twisted shit is this?
Etrius cleared his throat, breaking the rising tension. He leaned back, exhaling deeply, his face softening in a way that made Zoey immediately uneasy. “If we’re going back to Russia,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with a weight rarely heard from him, “there’s… there’s one place I need to stop at first. Without question.”
Zoey’s attention snapped fully to him, and she could see the pain flicker in his eyes. He didn’t show it often, but this time it was undeniable. His jaw tightened as he glanced down at the table, clearly wrestling with himself.
Voss tilted her head slightly, her glowing scars pulsing faintly with her shifting posture. “Where do you need to go?” she asked softly, her tone careful.
The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain, until Zoey found herself breaking it. “Sure,” she said, her voice quiet but resolute. “We can stop wherever you need.”
Voss spoke almost simultaneously, nodding firmly. “Yes. Of course.”
Etrius looked between them, his lips pressing into a thin line as he swallowed hard. For a fleeting moment, the vulnerability on his face was clear, raw and unguarded. Then, as if flipping a switch, his expression shifted back to the stoic, unshakable calm Zoey knew so well.
The bartender poked his head into the back room and gave a subtle signal. “We’re closing up.”
Zoey stood, grabbing her revolver and holstering it. “I’ll cover the drinks,” she muttered, needing a moment to clear her head.
Etrius shrugged on his leather jacket and stood as well. “I’ll be outside,” he said simply, heading for the door.
As Zoey walked toward the bar, Voss trailed behind her. Zoey could feel the wolf’s presence, her footsteps quiet but unmistakable. The urge to look back was overwhelming, but she resisted, focusing instead on counting out her credits.
As the bartender locked the doors behind him and left the two women alone, the room felt larger and quieter than it had just moments ago. Zoey leaned on the counter, her fingers tapping idly on the polished wood as she tried to steady her thoughts. The tension of the meeting had drained her, and the whirlwind in her head about Voss wasn’t helping.
Voss approached cautiously, her glowing red eyes soft as she stopped a few feet away. “Zoey,” she began, her voice gentle and careful. “Thank you… for giving me a chance. For trusting me.”
Zoey turned her head sharply, her narrowed eyes meeting Voss’s glowing gaze. “I don’t trust you,” she said coldly, the words cutting through the quiet air. “I trust Etrius. That’s the only reason I’m even considering this.”
Voss flinched slightly, but instead of pulling back, she stepped closer. Before Zoey could react, Voss wrapped her arms around her in a hug, pulling the taller woman into a surprisingly firm and warm embrace.
Zoey froze, every muscle in her body going rigid. “What the hell are you doing?” she snapped, but her voice lacked the usual venom. She was completely caught off guard.
“I am thanking you,” Voss said softly, her voice near Zoey’s ear.
The warmth of the embrace was unlike anything Zoey had felt in a long time. It wasn’t just physical—there was something else, a heat that seeped into her scales, soothing and comforting in a way that made her instinctively relax. Her tail uncurled slightly as her arms hovered awkwardly in the air. She hated how much she craved this kind of contact, hated how much she missed being touched in a way that wasn’t violent or clinical. Against her better judgment, she let her arms drop and hesitantly wrapped them around Voss in return.
That was when she noticed it: a faint, tingling warmth that felt almost magical, radiating from Voss’s body. Fire magic, she thought, her eyes narrowing slightly. Just like Ravenna. A part of her wanted to push Voss away, but the other part, the one that was tired and broken and desperate for something good, kept her in place.
The moment was interrupted by the creak of the door opening. Etrius stepped inside, his green eyes scanning the scene before him. His lips curved into a knowing smirk as he leaned against the doorframe. “Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “Didn’t think I’d walk in on this. Should I leave you two alone?”
Zoey’s face flushed immediately, the warmth of the hug now replaced by the heat of embarrassment. She shoved Voss away gently but firmly, stepping back and glaring at Etrius. “Shut up,” she barked, but her voice cracked just enough to betray her flustered state.
Etrius chuckled lightly, but his eyes carried no malice. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just saying it’s a good look for you.”
Without another word, Zoey stormed past him, her boots echoing loudly in the quiet bar. She pushed the door open and stepped into the night, the cold air biting at her flushed face. Mounting her motorcycle, she gunned the engine, the roar filling the street as she sped off into the darkness.
Her mind raced as fast as the bike. The warmth of Voss’s embrace lingered, and she hated herself for how much she wanted to feel it again. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered under her breath, the wind whipping her words away as she rode into the night.
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