Finn wasn't sure why he'd agreed to this.
Well, that was a lie. He knew exactly why. Peter's argument had made sense in a frustrating kind of way, the kind that you couldn't argue against without sounding like you'd given up on life entirely. But more than that, it was the system's warning that kept circling in his mind.
'This world is no longer entirely your design.'
Peter shouldn't exist. Finn Porter was supposed to be a throwaway character with no backstory, no connections, no friends. Just a name and an age and a reason to die in chapter three. But Peter was real. He had opinions and dreams and a workshop full of scavenged tech. He existed in a way Finn had never written.
Which meant there were other changes. Things Finn didn't know about. Details that had shifted while the side story was being corrupted by Marcus and Vanessa and Joel's forced rewrites.
He needed to understand what had changed. Needed to see this world up close instead of assuming his author knowledge was still accurate.
So at quarter to midnight, he left his apartment and headed for the sector four maintenance building.
The outer districts were quieter at night but not empty. People still moved through the streets, their faces tired under flickering street lights. Night shifts at the factories. Late deliveries. Workers heading home after double shifts because one job wasn't enough to cover rent.
Finn kept his head down and his pace steady, just another person trying to get somewhere without drawing attention.
The maintenance building sat at the edge of sector four, a squat concrete structure with no windows and a rusted metal door. Peter was already there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and that blue scarf wrapped around his neck like always.
"Thought you might bail," Peter said as Finn approached.
"Still might."
"Too late now. You're here." Peter pushed off the wall and pulled out a small device from his pocket. It looked homemade, wires and circuits visible through a transparent casing. "Access key. Took me three weeks to build this thing."
"How does it work?"
"Magic." Peter grinned. "Also electrical engineering. Come on."
He led Finn around the side of the building to a service entrance half-hidden behind overgrown weeds. The lock was electronic, a small panel with a numbered keypad. Peter held his device up to it and pressed a button. The device beeped twice and the lock clicked open.
"See? Magic."
They slipped inside.
The maintenance tunnels were exactly as unpleasant as Finn expected. Narrow concrete corridors lit by emergency lights spaced too far apart. Pipes running along the ceiling dripping condensation. The air smelled like mold and chemicals and something else he couldn't identify but didn't want to.
Peter moved through the tunnels like he'd memorized the route, which he probably had. Left at the junction. Right where the corridor split. Straight through the section where the lights had burned out completely.
"You're sure the patrols don't come through here?" Finn asked, his voice echoing slightly.
"Positive. This section's been condemned for five years. Structural issues or something. They sealed it off and forgot about it." Peter glanced back. "Why? You getting nervous?"
"I'm reconsidering my life choices."
"Too late for that too."
They walked for what felt like twenty minutes but was probably closer to ten before Peter stopped at a ladder leading up to a hatch in the ceiling.
"This comes out in an alley two blocks from the venue," Peter said. "Should be clear but we'll check before we go up."
He climbed first, pushed the hatch open a crack, and peered out. After a moment he nodded and climbed all the way up. Finn followed.
The alley was empty, just trash bins and the backs of buildings. But beyond it, Finn could hear noise. Lots of noise. Crowds. Music. The kind of commotion that came from a major event.
"Okay," Peter said, pulling the scarf up over his nose and mouth. "Stay close. Don't make eye contact with anyone who looks official. If someone asks, we're service staff."
"We're definitely not dressed like service staff."
"Then we're guests who dressed badly. I don't know. Just follow my lead."
They moved out of the alley and into the inner districts proper.
The difference was immediate and jarring. The streets here were wider, cleaner, better lit. Buildings rose ten or fifteen stories high, their facades maintained and modern-looking. No rust stains. No patchwork repairs. Just smooth surfaces and working lights and an overall sense that everything here functioned the way it was supposed to.
People filled the streets, all moving in the same direction toward the venue. They were dressed better too, clothes that fit properly and looked new. No one here looked tired or hungry or worn down by life. They looked excited. Energized.
"You see this?" Peter muttered. "This is what they get while we're eating protein paste and hoping the power doesn't cut out."
Finn didn't respond. He was too busy taking it all in.
The venue itself was massive, a structure that took up an entire city block. Glass and steel construction with huge screens mounted on the exterior showing what was happening inside. Crowds packed the area in front of the main entrance, held back by barriers and security guards in formal uniforms.
Peter led them around the side, away from the crowds, toward what looked like a service entrance.
"We're going in through here," Peter said. "Less security. They're all focused on the main gates."
"And you know this how?"
"I've been planning this for weeks, remember?" Peter pulled out another device, this one smaller. "Trust me."
The service entrance had a similar electronic lock. Peter's device worked just as well here. The door clicked open and they slipped inside.
The interior was even more impressive than the exterior. High ceilings. Polished floors. Everything gleaming and expensive-looking. They were in a back corridor, away from the main event spaces, but even here the quality was obvious.
"This way," Peter said, moving quickly but quietly.
They passed doors marked with labels Finn couldn't read from this distance. Storage rooms. Technical booths. Staff areas. The sounds of the crowd grew louder as they got closer to the main spaces.
"Wait," Finn said. "Where exactly are we going?"
Peter stopped and turned. "I told you. Tech exhibition area. They've got displays of new Spark-enhanced gear, latest innovations, all that stuff."
"Right. To look at."
"Yeah. To look at." Peter's expression was neutral but his eyes shifted slightly. "What else would we be doing?"
"You tell me."
"Finn, come on. You know me better than that. I'm not just here for sightseeing."
"Then what are we doing?"
Peter sighed. "Look, there's equipment here. Good equipment. The kind that could actually help people in the outer districts if anyone bothered to distribute it properly. But they don't. They keep it all here, show it off at fancy parties, sell it to guilds for ridiculous prices while we're stuck with garbage that barely works." He met Finn's eyes. "I want to see what they've got. Map it out. Maybe figure out how to build something similar but cheaper. Is that so wrong?"
It wasn't, exactly. But Finn couldn't shake the feeling there was more to it.
"Fine," Finn said. "Let's go."
They continued through the back corridors until they reached a door marked 'Exhibition Hall B - Staff Only.' Peter used his device again and they entered.
The room beyond was large and filled with display cases showing off various pieces of equipment. Weapons with glowing components. Armor that looked impossibly light. Devices Finn couldn't identify but looked advanced and expensive.
"Holy shit," Peter breathed. "Look at all this."
But Finn wasn't looking at the equipment. He was looking at the far end of the room where another set of doors stood open, and beyond them he could hear the roar of the crowd.
"They're right through there," Finn said.
"Who?"
"The ceremony. The heroes. That's where the main event is happening."
"Good," Peter said, already moving toward one of the display cases. "Means no one's paying attention to this area. Help me look through this stuff."
Finn hesitated, then decided he might as well. They were already here. Might as well see what Peter was so interested in.
But first, he wanted to see the ceremony. Just for a minute. Just to understand what kind of event this was.
"I'm going to check out the main hall," Finn said.
"What? Why?"
"Curiosity. I'll be back in a minute."
"Finn—"
But he was already walking toward those open doors.
The main hall was enormous. Easily large enough to hold thousands of people, and judging by the noise, it was close to capacity. Finn stayed in the back, near the entrance where he could blend with the staff and other people moving around.
The stage at the far end was lit up like a concert, massive screens on either side showing what was happening. An announcer's voice boomed through speakers, introducing the first group.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Valkyrie Guild!"
Music started, something upbeat and energetic. The screens showed a ship descending outside, landing on the red carpet leading to the venue. Then the doors opened and they walked in.
Five women, all dressed in matching combat gear that somehow managed to look both functional and stylish. They moved with synchronized precision, walking down the carpet toward the stage while the crowd screamed their approval.
Finn recognized them immediately because of course he did. He'd written them.
The Valkyrie Guild. An all-female team that had started as a publicity stunt by a corporate sponsor but had somehow become one of the most effective hero groups in Bastion Seven. Their leader was a woman named Seraphina Cross, a Second Gen Awakened with ice manipulation and enhanced reflexes.
"Fucking idols," Peter's voice said from behind him. Finn turned to see his friend had followed him, apparently unable to resist watching. "Look at them. They probably spend more on their outfits than we make in a year."
"They're effective though," Finn said.
"Sure. When they're not doing photoshoots." But even Peter couldn't look away. His expression was conflicted, equal parts envy and resentment.
The Valkyries reached the stage and took their positions. The announcer continued.
"And now, representing the Beast Tamer Association, the Apex Hunters!"
Another ship descended. This time when the doors opened, the crowd's reaction was different. Gasps and excited shouts.
Because they weren't alone.
The first man out had a massive cat-like creature beside him. It looked like a tiger but larger, with horns curving back from its head and fur that seemed to shimmer with different colors as it moved. A Razorclaw Lynx. A-rank beast, incredibly difficult to tame.
The second member had a bird perched on her shoulder. Not a normal bird. This thing had a wingspan of at least ten feet even folded up, with feathers that looked metallic. A Stormwing Raptor.
Each member of the team had a beast companion. Some walked beside them. One rode on its partner's back. The variety was impressive and the crowd loved it.
"Show-offs," Peter muttered. But Finn could hear the longing in his voice. The wish that he could have something like that. Could be someone like that.
"The one with the lynx," Finn said quietly. "Damien Cross. Seraphina's brother. He's been in three relationships with teammates. Currently sleeping with the one on the far right with the raptor."
Peter's head snapped toward him. "What? How do you know that?"
"Heard rumors."
"Bullshit. That's too specific." Peter stared at him. "Where did you hear that?"
Finn shrugged. He needed to be more careful. His author knowledge was showing.
The Beast Tamers took their place on stage and the ceremony continued. More introductions. More guilds. Each one getting their moment in the spotlight while the crowd cheered and the cameras captured everything.
Then the tone shifted. The music changed to something more formal. More important.
"And now," the announcer said, his voice dropping into a more serious register, "please welcome Governor Vincent Reed and Defense Minister Fernando Valenzuela."
The crowd's reaction was different now. Respectful applause instead of screaming. These weren't celebrities. These were leaders.
The Governor and Defense Minister walked out together, both wearing formal suits, moving with the confidence of men who'd held power for decades. But Finn wasn't looking at them.
He was looking at the woman who walked behind them.
Angelina Fernando Valenzuela.
____
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