Cassius moved through the narrow corridors of the hideout, his steps quiet but steady. The usual hum of quiet conversation filled the air, rebels murmuring in low voices. But this time, when he passed, the talking stopped, just for a moment, just long enough to notice.
A few steps ahead, two rebels lingered by the supply crates, speaking in hushed tones.
"It's a lot of money," one muttered.
"Enough to change everything," the other replied.
Cassius frowned, slowing his pace. The way they spoke, low, cautious, like a secret not meant to be overheard, sent a chill creeping down his spine.
One of them noticed him. The conversation cut off immediately.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter," the first one said quickly, turning away.
The other shot Cassius a brief, wary glance before following.
Cassius exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the unease settling in his chest. It was nothing. Probably.
And yet, as he rounded the next corner and spotted Lucius sitting near the exit, fingers drumming anxiously against his knee, Cassius couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, something just beneath the surface, waiting to break.
Cassius's stomach twisted. He had seen the rebels stare down enforcers, face execution without flinching, but when they looked at him, it was different. Their fear was sharper, more personal. Not the kind reserved for an enemy, but for something unpredictable. Something dangerous.
For the first time, Cassius realized he wasn't just feared.
He was feared by his own people.
The tension in the hideout coiled around him, suffocating. His breath came too fast, too shallow. He could feel the weight of it, pressing against his skin like unseen shackles.
Except this time, the chains weren't his magic.
They were his own doing.
They were almost ready to leave when Stellan called them, panting. His face was flushed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"We have a problem," he announced, shoving a crumpled paper onto the table.
Cassius and Lucius leaned in. The parchment was damp, smudged in places, but the image was unmistakable,Cassius's face, printed in bold ink.
A bounty.
50,000 brass gears. Dead or alive.
Cassius's stomach turned.
The number was staggering. 50,000 gears, enough to buy an entire airship, to bribe officials, to secure a lifetime's worth of supplies. Enough to make even the most loyal rebel question where their true allegiance lay.
Lucius muttered, scanning the paper, "They must know about his magic."
Cassius clenched his fists, his magic crackling at his fingertips. The Iron Order wasn't just hunting him, they were putting a price so high on his head that anyone would be tempted to turn him in.
"They're trying to smoke us out," he said through gritted teeth.
Lucius exhaled sharply. "It's working."
A tense silence stretched between them. Stellan shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flicking toward the entrance.
Then, footsteps.
Cassius didn't need to turn to know who it was. The room seemed to shrink as Mara entered, her expression unreadable.
She took one look at the bounty poster on the table. Her jaw tightened.
Cassius braced himself, but the words still hit like a blade.
"You have to leave," she said, her voice as cold and unyielding as steel.
Cassius flinched. "Mara"
"No arguments." Her gaze was sharp, unwavering. "The Iron Order won't stop hunting you, and with a price that high, it's only a matter of time before someone, anyone, decides you're worth more to them dead."
Cassius swallowed hard. He had known the rebels were afraid of him, but to be cast out so quickly,
Lucius stepped forward, his jaw tight. "If he goes, I go."
Mara didn't even blink. "Then both of you leave. Now."
The finality in her voice struck deeper than Cassius expected. There was no room for argument. No chance to prove himself. The rebels weren't just scared of him.
They were done with him.
Cassius and Lucius moved in silence, stuffing whatever supplies they could carry into worn-out satchels. The decision had been made, Mara had given them no choice.
"You have to leave," she had said, voice cold as steel. "The Iron Order won't stop hunting you, and we can't risk them coming here."
Cassius had nodded stiffly, forcing himself to swallow his frustration. He had always known his presence put the rebels in danger, but hearing it aloud, being cast out so easily, made it feel more real than ever.
Lucius had argued, of course. But Mara's mind was set. "The sooner you're gone, the safer we all are."
Now, as they packed, the hideout felt smaller than before, its walls closing in. Some rebels barely glanced their way. Others murmured quietly, making no effort to hide their relief.
Cassius clenched his fists. So this is how it ends.
They were about to slip out through one of the old tunnels when the walls trembled with the sound of approaching boots.
The hideout burst open. Iron Order enforcers stormed in, weapons drawn.
"Move!" a voice barked.
The rebels scrambled, scattering into the tunnels. Cassius and Lucius bolted, weaving through the chaos. But it was no accident that the enforcers had found them. Someone had sold them out.
Cassius's blood ran cold.
They were cut off near the eastern passage, trapped between the Iron Order and a collapsing tunnel.
Cassius had no choice.
Magic surged through him. He raised his hand, and the air crackled. Chains lashed out, dragging debris from the ceiling.
A guard was caught beneath the falling rubble. Cassius saw the fear in his eyes just before the weight crushed him.
His breath hitched. He had done that.
The moment stretched, unbearably long. The image of the guard's face, wide, eyed, pleading, eared itself into Cassius's mind. He could almost hear the choked gasp, the desperate instinct to survive, before it was silenced beneath the weight of collapsing stone.
His chest tightened, nausea clawing up his throat. He had **felt it, **the way his magic obeyed too easily, how the chains had responded with a force that wasn't entirely his own. His fingers trembled, his breathing uneven. It had happened too fast.
A part of him had wanted to stop. But another part, something darker, more primal, hadn't.
Lucius grabbed his arm. "Cassius, move!"
Cassius didn't respond. His legs felt rooted in place, his heart hammering against his ribs. His magic still flickered at his fingertips, unstable, restless. What if it happened again?
Lucius shook him, voice sharper. "Cassius!"
He blinked, forcing himself to move. He turned away from the crumpled body, from the dust still settling in the air. His feet stumbled before catching momentum. They ran. Lucius grabbed his arm. "Cassius, move!"
He forced himself to turn away, his chest tight. They ran.
By dawn, it was over.
The hideout was lost. The rebels had scattered. And Cassius and Lucius had nowhere left to go.
Mara's final words echoed in Cassius's mind. "You have to leave. Now."
Cassius exhaled shakily. He turned to his brother.
Lucius's expression was hard, determined. "So what now?"
Cassius looked out at the vast, sprawling city of Cinewall. The Iron Order was hunting him, the rebels had cast him out, and 50,000 brass gears would make him a prize worth chasing.
He clenched his fists. "Now? We run."
And they disappeared into the waking city, shadows against the rising sun. do it for this one.