As I made my way toward the Isles, the corridors felt darker than usual, quieter, like the Vault itself was holding its breath. I wasn't sure if it was the weight of what I'd just realized, or the fact that everything suddenly seemed far more fragile than I'd ever imagined.
Aspen wasn't just a problem—I was starting to see that she was a threat on a much larger scale. She had manipulated, played her cards perfectly, while everyone else, including Oliver, was too distracted or too wrapped up in their own ambitions to notice. But Marge had to see it.
As I entered the familiar space, the neon lights reflected off the walls, casting an eerie glow. The scent of cheap perfume mixed with smoke lingered in the air, a reminder of what the Isles was—a place where people came to forget, to indulge, to escape. But I was here for none of those things. I was here for the truth.
Marge sat behind her desk, her sharp eyes taking in everything and nothing at once. She had a way of seeing through the thickest of lies, and even though her presence was quieter compared to someone like Aspen, it was no less powerful. She didn't need to strut around the Vault barking orders—her control was subtle, woven into the very fabric of the Isles. She knew what was going on, even if she rarely showed her hand.
She glanced up as I approached her, "You look like someone who's been chewing on bad news," she said, her voice low, as she leaned back in her chair.
I didn't waste time. There was no point. Marge wasn't someone you beat around the bush with. "I need information."
Her smile widened slightly, but it was more of a smirk. "Information, huh?"
I sat down across from her, ignoring the creeping tension that tightened around my chest. "Aspen."
Marge's smile faded. Her eyes darkened, the shift in her expression so subtle that most people would've missed it. But I didn't.
"Aspen," she repeated slowly, like she was testing the weight of the word.
I leaned forward, lowering my voice. "I know she's playing games. I know she's been setting you up—and I know it's more than just Vault business. It's personal."
Marge's eyes lingered with something I couldn't quite place. Maybe it was caution. Maybe it was something else. She leaned back in her chair again, taking a long drag from her cigarette.
"You're walking into a minefield," she finally said, her voice soft but deliberate. "Aspen's not just a problem for me. She's a problem for Oliver. For the Vault. For everyone."
"I figured that much," I replied. "But I need to understand what her endgame is."
Marge let out a slow breath, as if weighing her next words carefully. "Aspen wanted what I have—control of the Isles—but more than that, she wanted something bigger. Power. The kind that only comes with being close to Oliver. But it was never about him, not really." She paused, taking another long, slow drag from her cigarette. "She doesn't care about Oliver. She only cares about controlling what he controls."
Everything made sense.
"She's been playing this game for a long time," Marge continued, her voice tinged with something close to disgust. "She knew how to play the slow game, how to position herself just right. Oliver might be the face of the Vault, but Aspen's the one who's pulling the strings behind the scenes. She controls more than he likes to admit. And if she wanted to…" Marge trailed off, her eyes locking onto mine with a hard edge. "She could take it all."
A chill ran down my spine at the thought. She was already halfway there.
I wasn't just dealing with some petty rivalry with a jealous woman. I was standing in the middle of a crumbling empire, and Aspen was the one with the hammer.
"She plays dirty," Marge said, breaking into my thoughts. "Oliver may have his flaws—hell, we all do—but he doesn't play the way Aspen does. She doesn't just eliminate threats. She dismantles them. Slowly, methodically."
"She's capable of anything," I said quietly.
Marge leaned forward, her voice lowering. "This is why I've been hesitant about your relationship with Oliver. Aspen craves power, and for her, you're just another obstacle in her way. She sees you getting closer to him, and that threatens everything she's worked for. She'll destroy you if it means keeping control."
She paused, her sharp gaze locking onto mine. "But there's more to this, Lux. Aspen seeing how Oliver feels about you puts him in a difficult position. She'll use it against him—his emotions, his connection to you. She'll twist it, exploit it, and make him vulnerable in ways he can't afford right now. This isn't just about you and Aspen anymore. It's about the Vault itself, and if Oliver slips, everything we've built here could collapse."
But it wasn't just about the Vault, was it? The streets—the place I'd clawed my way out of—they would fall, too. The Vault wasn't some isolated kingdom. It fed the streets. Its influence stretched into every back alley, every corner where deals were made, where people like me had once scraped by. If the Vault fell, the streets would descend into chaos, more than they already had. The delicate balance of power would shatter, and that kind of collapse would send waves through every part of the city.
No one would be safe. And if Oliver lost control, there would be nothing left to protect me from that kind of world.
I knew what that world was like. I had lived it, fought my way out of it, but it was still there, lurking at the edges, waiting to pull me back under. And if Aspen was the one in control when the Vault fell, if she was the one who swooped in and seized the reins from Oliver, I'd be the first to get swallowed by the fallout.
As it stood, I felt the truth of it settle deep in my chest, heavy and cold. At this point Aspen wouldn't just ruin me, wouldn't just humiliate me or shove me back down to the Isles. No. Aspen would slit my throat, metaphorically or literally, and she would justify it to Oliver. She would find a way to twist it, to make it seem like my death was a necessity, a strategic move. She'd whisper lies in his ear, tell him I was a liability, that I was playing both sides, that I was the real threat.
The worst part was, Oliver might believe her. He wouldn't want to, but Aspen had a way of controlling the narrative, a way of making her truth sound like the only truth. If I wasn't careful, I'd find myself on the wrong side of her lies.
I had to be smarter than her. Quicker. More ruthless.
Because this wasn't just about gaining power anymore. This was about survival. If I didn't act soon, if I didn't figure out how to cut Aspen out of Oliver's operation, I wouldn't just lose my place in the Vault—I'd lose my life.
My lifeline was tied to getting inside Oliver's head, making him see what was happening before Aspen sank her claws in completely. But the more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. He was already defending her, shielding her. Not because he didn't see the cracks, but because he had no choice. She controlled too much already.
Oliver wasn't stupid. He couldn't confront her head-on without risking a complete collapse in the Vault. That was her real power—her ability to make herself indispensable while quietly rotting everything from the inside out.
And Oliver knew it. I'd seen it in his eyes, the frustration behind his gaze, the tightness in his jaw when he talked about her. He didn't trust her, but he also didn't know how to deal with her. He was trapped, just like I was. But while he might have felt powerless to act, I didn't have that luxury. If I didn't do something, Aspen was going to get me killed. Simple as that.
The question was—how the hell was I supposed to pull it off? How was I supposed to bring down someone like Aspen, someone who had been playing this game long before I'd even set foot in the Vault? She was calculated, methodical, and ruthless. She played dirty in ways Oliver never would. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, she was better at this than I was. She had the upper hand.
The Vault was already hanging by a thread, and Aspen had her hands on the scissors. I needed to find a way to make her cut her own damn thread.
Marge watched me through narrowed eyes, the smoke from her cigarette curling between us. "And you think you can stop her?"
"I don't have a choice," I replied, meeting her gaze. "But I need your help. You've seen Aspen for what she is— hell, you saw it before anyone else. You know her weaknesses. You know the people she's stepped on to get where she is."
Marge was silent for a long moment, the only sound between us the faint hum of the neon lights above. Her expression didn't shift, but I could see the gears turning in her mind. She was weighing her options, considering the risk. Marge had been in the Vault long enough to know that alliances could be dangerous, especially when they were aimed at someone as powerful as Aspen.
Finally, she exhaled, her voice tinged with weariness. "You're right about one thing—if Aspen takes over, I'll be out. And I'm too old to start over somewhere else. But you need to understand something, Lux. I've survived this long because I've known when to stay out of things."
I nodded. "That's why I need you. You've been here longer than anyone. You know how things work, and you know who we can trust."
Marge's eyes flickered with something—maybe reluctance, maybe resolve. She took another long drag from her cigarette before leaning forward slightly. "I'll give you some information, but I won't get directly involved. You keep my name out of it. I'm not betraying Oliver, but I sure as hell don't want to see him fall because of Aspen."
I could feel a rush of relief, but I kept my expression steady. This was only the beginning. "Agreed. I need to know who in the Vault is loyal to Aspen and who isn't."
Marge nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Farrah could be your way in. She grew up here and knows just about everyone worth knowing. And I know you two are close. With the right persuasion, she might be willing to help. She's smart enough to know a good deal when she sees one." Marge reached into her drawer and pulled out a few bags of Nebula tablets, handing it to me. "Use these if you have to. Bargain, trade—just make sure you keep her on your side."
I nodded. Farrah had already proven useful, and I knew she had her own network within the Vault. But I needed more than just Farrah. "What about Aspen's subordinates? The ones she's mistreated or manipulated?"
Marge smirked slightly. "Oh, there are plenty of those. Aspen's burned more bridges than she realized. But they're all too scared to act. You'll need to give them a reason to turn on her—something they want more than their own survival."
I nodded again, absorbing the information.
Marge's expression hardened slightly, a warning flashing in her eyes. "Don't think for a second that this is going to be easy. Aspen plays dirty, and if she catches even a whiff of what you're planning, she'll cut you down before you can blink. And if that happens, I won't be able to save you."
I felt the weight of her words. She was right. I was walking into a minefield, and one wrong step could end everything. But I didn't have a choice. Aspen was already too close to taking control, and if I didn't act, I wouldn't survive long enough to see her downfall.
"I understand," I said quietly.
Marge's gaze softened slightly, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a hint of something like sympathy. She leaned back in her chair, tapping the ash from her cigarette into a tray.
I shifted on my feet, the tension in my chest loosening just a fraction.
Just as I was about to leave, Marge's voice called out, halting me in my tracks. "Lux." I glanced back at her.
"Don't trust anyone too much," she said, her voice low and serious. "Not even Oliver. He's trapped, just like you. But when push comes to shove, he's likely to save himself first."
I nodded, her words settling heavily in my mind. She wasn't wrong. Trust in the Vault was a dangerous thing, and I couldn't afford to rely too heavily on anyone.
With that warning lingering in the air, I left the Isles and slipped back into the shadows of the Vault, my mind buzzing with the weight of what was to come. I had the first piece of the puzzle—a small, fragile alliance with Marge—but there was still so much more to do.
Aspen was playing a game of control and manipulation, and I needed to play it better than she ever could. If I didn't, I'd end up just another casualty in her rise to power.
But this was my Vault too now. And I wasn't going to let her take it from me.
I found Farrah in one of the shadowy corners of the Vault, lounging like she had nowhere else to be. A few runners and dealers loitered around her, but she waved them off when she saw me coming, a curious glint sparking in her eyes. The air was thick with smoke hanging in the haze like a silent invitation to forget the world outside.
"Well, look who it is," Farrah said, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "What trouble are you dragging me into now?"
I stood across from her, keeping my voice low. "It's not trouble I'm dragging you into—it's an opportunity."
Her eyebrow arched, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "An opportunity, huh? Alright, Lux, lay it on me. What kind of mess are we diving into this time?"
I knew Farrah thrived on the thrill and I was counting on that spark. "First, I need to know—how deep are you willing to dive into this one?"
Farrah sighed theatrically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, come on, Lux. You know I'm always up for a little chaos. What kind of mess are we diving into this time?"
"It's Aspen," I said, my voice lowering. "She's not just coming after me—she's playing everyone. Oliver, Marge, the whole Vault. She's got her claws in deep, and if we don't stop her, she'll own it all. Hell, she's already halfway there."
Farrah's smirk lingered, but her eyes sharpened with intrigue. "Alright," she said, a playful edge in her voice. "Sounds like my kind of mess. So, What do you want me to do about it? Oliver seems fine with her. Why rock the boat?"
"She's using him. Just like she's using everyone else. She doesn't care about the Vault—she just wants power, and once she's got it, there'll be nothing left for anyone else."
She watched me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as she considered what I'd said. "You're asking me to go up against Aspen," she finally said, her voice quiet but sharp. "Do you have any idea what kind of fire you're playing with?"
"I don't have a choice," I replied. "Aspen will kill me if she gets the chance. I'm not just doing this for me. If she takes control, you're going to be next on her list. Everyone has seen us prowling around together."
She crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line as she gave me a pointed look. "Cut the shit. Let's not pretend this is just about survival. You're sticking your neck out for Oliver, aren't you? Running yourself ragged trying to fix his mess?"
I hesitated, caught off guard by the bite in her tone. "It's not like that. This isn't just about him—this is about all of us."
Farrah let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Uh-huh. All of us. Funny how it always circles back to him, though." Her gaze softened slightly, though the annoyance was still there. "Look, Lux, I get it. But who's protecting you while you're busy playing hero."
Her words stung, but I pushed the feeling aside. "I don't need anyone to protect me. I'm doing what needs to be done."
Farrah sighed, her expression shifting back to that familiar mix of curiosity and loyalty. "Alright, fine. I'm in. You knew I would be. But don't come crying to me if this whole thing blows up in your face. This is a dangerous game you're playing. Aspen's got claws and a lot of power here. But… I know a few people who might be interested in seeing her fall."
That got my attention. I leaned in a little more. "Like who?"
"Vigo, for one. Aspen made him move his stall to a shittier area in the Vault so she could bring in her own interests. He's pissed. And it's not just him. She's been bleeding people dry—letting them make just enough to stay afloat, but not enough to get ahead. She's squeezing them, and they're not happy about it."
I nodded. "If we can sway them to our side, we can start chipping away at her support." Farrah folded her arms, giving me a scrutinizing look. "And what exactly do I get out of this? Besides just playing detective with you?"
I didn't hesitate. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a bag Marge had given me—one filled with Nebula tablets. It was more than Farrah had likely ever seen in one place, a high-value currency both here in the Vault and to someone like her.
Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of it, but she didn't reach for the bag right away. "Damn, Lux. You've been holding out on me."
"Use these however you want," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Bargain with them, trade them, whatever. Just help me gather intel—find out who's fed up with Aspen, who we can pull to our side. Stir things up, quietly. And when Aspen starts to slip, I'll make sure you come out of this better off than you were before."
Farrah leaned back, the playful gleam in her eyes replaced by something more calculating. She was weighing her options, but I could tell she was hooked. The bag of Nebula was too tempting, and the opportunity to mess with Aspen was likely just as appealing.
"Alright," she said after a long pause, her smirk returning. "I'll see what I can dig up. But let's get one thing straight—I'm stuck dealing with the fallout no matter what happens. So don't expect me to dive in headfirst without keeping an exit plan ready. If it gets too hot, I'm out."
I nodded. "Fair enough."
She took the bag of Nebula from my hand, her fingers brushing mine briefly before she slipped it into her jacket. "You've got yourself a deal."
I let out a small breath of relief, but I knew this was only the beginning. Farrah was on board, for now.
But there was an unspoken understanding hanging between us, one that neither of us needed to voice. Farrah could just as easily switch sides if Aspen came to her with a better offer. And that made her both useful and dangerous.
I felt a pang of guilt for dragging Farrah into something so dangerous. She might have enjoyed the thrill of the chaos, even seemed to thrive in it, but that didn't make it any easier for me to ask her to take the risk. The stakes were high, and while Farrah played it cool, I couldn't shake the weight of knowing what could happen if things went wrong.