The energy that exists everywhere in this world, the Soulfuel, may have been here for much longer than anyone thinks, but humanity only began to see the consequences of it half a century ago.
And except for a few historians and scientists, the exact date didn't matter to today's world. Politics, economics, morality and society are dictated by the values of the present, the past is changed and forgotten to serve the agendas of the powerful.
Today, society revolves around Soulfuel - and the masters of this energy, the Seekers. Everyone is born with a Nexus, a sort of disembodied tank that determines each person's Soulfuel capacity. But only some are able to manipulate this energy and draw superhuman abilities from it.
Muscles become more explosive, hands become weapons of destruction, organ function becomes a near-perfect machine, and Soulfuel becomes the tool which creates the unthinkable.
Masters who forge abilities that defy the laws of physics and nature. Heroes who can make hurricanes disappear with the snap of a finger. Builders who can raise entire cities out of the ground. Healers who cure diseases once thought incurable. All with the soul skill that every Seeker has created for themselves.
...and while many would think that creating superhumanly strong doppelgangers would be an extremely practical skill, it would require a few things.
For one, one would need to be able to control the doppelganger, or at least communicate with it telepathically. On the other hand, the doppelganger would have to act according to the principles and goals of the original.
Hell, if it was a doppelganger, it should at least think the same way!
And while Kael's doppelganger at least had the same goals, their opinions on how to achieve them were far from unanimous.
The Cold One stared at him as he always stared at him... coldly, that is. He opened his cold mouth and spoke with a cold voice... God, did Kael really have such a part in him?
"The League will attack me. I'll have to kill them."
Kael threw up his arms.
"Or, hear me out. You just knock them out or go around them. All you have to do is get into the vehicle unseen and find the file. No bloodbath. Then we're not terrorists, just opportunistic criminals... I think."
"...that would be inefficient."
"We're not killing anyone! Damn it, you are me! Why am I arguing with myself?"
Kael's expression was one of indignation. It couldn't be that hard for a copy of him to want the same things as him! Even if it was only a part of his personality. But before he could say anything else, or the Cold One could say something cold again, McTroy's voice from the communicator interrupted the discussion.
Which should never have been a discussion in the first place!
"What's the situation?"
For a few seconds, Kael stared at the Cold One in frustration, then raised the communicator.
"We're on it."
Then he nodded at the Cold One, signaling him to get to the fourth car before the League had finished off the Cartel for good or reinforcements arrived.
Time was running out. Kael crept away from the raging battle in front of him and started to search the last car. He looked up again to make sure the Cold One wasn't doing anything stupid. To his relief, that part of him seemed to have finally figured out what to do and was making his way to his own destination with precise movements.
He took a deep breath himself before getting into the car. This had to happen quickly. If the League caught him messing with top-secret goods, he would undoubtedly face severe punishment.
But he couldn't afford to leave his sister chained to the bed alone. He jumped into the truck, the weight of the vehicle shifting a little, bouncing up and down. Then Kael closed the door, and the struggle outside became a muffled orchestra of battle cries and violence.
He glanced around and picked up the communicator.
"I'm in."
"Good, what do you see?"
He began to describe.
"There are several boxes, a safe on the front wall... and a half-eaten ham and cheese sandwich, if that's relevant."
"It's not. But the contents of the boxes should be the old physical files of the League. Ignore the safe, the file you're looking for should be in the boxes somewhere."
"Oh, how helpful...wait, they're actually labeled."
He stepped up to the boxes and began to read the labels one by one. Something crashed into the armored vehicle, shaking it, and Kael tensed, glancing at the closed back door. When nothing happened after a few seconds, he returned to his task, but this time he was a little more stressed.
Category one shard monsters, experiments with soul fuel, list of Seeker A-Z...
"Read them out loud, Kael."
"...Finances 2021, Protocol of the Empire-Dalemar case, expenses 2022... Prisoner records-"
"There! Search there."
McTroy's voice sounded almost excited. Which was strange, since Kael was the one who took all the risk here. But he followed the instructions and opened the box. Hundreds of files, dusty and eroded by time, some as thin as a finger, others as thick as a leg, lay around wildly inside.
"Have you got the Cold One with you?"
Kael replied, but he had already started digging.
"No, he's in the other car. I'll call him back as soon as he's in range. The prisoner's name was Tomahawk, right?"
"Tom the Hawk."
Kael paused briefly and frowned.
"What? Seriously?"
"Yes. Seriously. But everyone just calls him Tomahawk."
Kael shook his head and continued his search without another word. But McTroy wasn't finished.
"They call him that because he split his victims' skulls open."
"I didn't ask."
But the information was unwelcome for reasons other than the prisoner's sheer absurdity. It meant that his sister's life might depend on the outcome of a negotiation with a psychopathic serial killer.
'Just great.'
His hands flicked through the files. It had to be here somewhere... there! A grin crept across his face and he picked up a file of several pages, a censored image and many crossed out sentences next to it, but the words were clear:
"Tom the Hawk, code name Tomahawk! I got it."
"Just get out of there, now."
"Don't worry, the cartel..."
But his words trailed off, his voice dropping to a whisper that died in the silence.
An absolute silence had suddenly fallen around him. There was no more raging battle out there. All he could hear were muffled voices. But they were no longer in the adrenaline of battle.
Was the Cartel already defeated?
Kael had underestimated the League as well. But there shouldn't be a Seeker higher than rank three here...
However, he had to flee immediately. He slammed the lid of the crate and was about to leave the vehicle when he heard a voice. A shiver ran down his spine and he stopped just before throwing the door open.
The voice outside was his own. Or rather, the voice of the Cold One. But it wasn't talking to him. Not directly.
"Take one step closer and I'll blow you all up."
Kael raised his eyebrows. What was his double talking about? Another voice answered, but it was filled with authority.
"Surrender. Now."
Then Kael finally understood.
'Damn. I'm too late.'
The Cartel was already defeated. He had been noticed - or at least he would have been if the Cold One hadn't stepped in. He tried to warn Kael. He couldn't escape, he would be discovered and captured immediately.
In that sense, the Cold One sacrificed himself. Very noble...
"I have a bomb."
'I take it back.'
His double spoke the words with such conviction that Kael almost believed them himself. Then he shook himself out of these unnecessary thoughts. Time - he had no time left.
And apparently neither did the Cold One. He would have to take one for the team. Kael found one of the larger boxes, opened it, jumped inside and closed it again.
He couldn't believe what he was doing. But running was not an option. Hiding was the best course of action at the moment.
'Sorry, other me.'
A new voice, this one clearly female, called out:
"I will subdue you now."
There was silence for a few moments. Then the Cold One said:
"No. I will teleport out of here."
Silence again. Then laughter.
"What did you say?"
The voice of the Cold One sounded again, only this time it seemed a bit annoyed, which Kael didn't think was possible before.
"I said, I'm leaving now."
'Ah. Oops.'
That was the sign for Kael. He concentrated, deactivated his Soulskill and felt something return to his Nexus. A moment later he heard the surprised voices of the League.
"Where did he go?"
The female voice from earlier began to give orders.
"Team Echo, go find him! Alpha, Beta, secure the area. The others search the vehicles."
Kael held his breath as he heard the back door of the vehicle open again and the balance shift as someone jumped in. He heard heavy footsteps just outside his hiding place.
There was silence for a few seconds.
"There's nothing here."
Kael let out a small sigh of relief. He didn't dare to move, just lied curled up on the pile of paper in the box. The only thing he did was to turn off the communicator. If McTroy spoke now, he would undoubtedly be discovered.
He almost laughed, if it weren't for his certain end. The prisoner's file was safely tucked away in his jacket, but he himself was not quite so safely tucked away in a box.
It was cramped and stuffy. The smell of paper mixed with the smell of metal and his own sweat.
And it only got worse. After a few minutes and some unrecognizable conversations from the League, the door of the vehicle suddenly slammed shut.
Someone else had jumped into the back of the truck as well.
"Is the vault secure?"
That woman's voice again - the one who seemed to be giving the orders here.
The other Seeker in the vehicle answered, but he seemed to be eating something. The... ham and cheese sandwiches, perhaps? Seriously?
"Mhm."
"Good. We're leaving."
There were two dull thumps on metal. The vehicle's engine roared and the tires began to roll.
The League's armored convoy continued on undisturbed after the ambush - only this time with a stowaway.
'I'm screwed.'