Chapter Text
Training Day
The training grounds rang with the dull, echoing sound of impact, stone scraping against stone as dust lifted into the air and lingered there, suspended like the moment before a mistake. Cthonie vanished mid-step, her body folding into one of the warped holes she created with ease, space tearing open like fabric before snapping shut behind her.
She reappeared behind Y/N in a blink, momentum sharp and aggressive, her boot cutting a clean line across the ground as she aimed for Y/N’s spine.
Y/N didn’t turn.
She only adjusted her stance, shifting her weight forward with measured calm, the crooked glasses slipping just enough down her nose to catch the light as she stepped out of reach without urgency or panic, as if she had already decided the outcome before the strike ever existed.
Cthonie’s attack sliced through empty air.
“Missed,” Y/N said evenly, her voice low and unbothered.
Cthonie twisted away, laughing as she fell back through another hole, space folding around her like a familiar habit. “You didn’t even look at me.”
“I didn’t need to.”
A blade of energy caught Y/N from behind, glancing across her shoulder at an angle that should have staggered her. Instead, the impact dulled on contact, the force bleeding away the moment it entered her blind spot, leaving nothing more than a faint ache where real damage should have been.
Partial reduction. Working as intended.
Y/N finally turned, her expression unchanged, gaze steady behind crooked lenses. “You’re predictable when you rush.”
“Wow,” Cthonie said, landing lightly and rolling her shoulders. “Cold. That one hurt more than the hit.”
They circled each other slowly, boots grinding against stone as Raiders gathered along the edges of the training field, voices low and cautious. Most of them knew better than to interrupt when Y/N trained. She didn’t shout commands or draw attention to herself. She didn’t need to. Her presence alone made people watch.
Cthonie disappeared again.
This time she emerged above Y/N, gravity working with her as she aimed downward with intent sharpened by familiarity.
Y/N stepped sideways without looking up, her movement precise, almost lazy.
The attack lost power before it could fully land, momentum dissolving into something harmless the moment it entered the space Y/N refused to acknowledge.
Cthonie landed, skidding back a step. “That ability is unfair.”
“It’s not unfair,” Y/N replied. “You just keep staring at me.”
Cthonie grinned, sharp and unapologetic. “That’s because you’re annoying when you’re calm.”
A voice cut through the air from the benches, loud and grating, carrying smoke and impatience with it.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t blink or you lose. Real terrifying.”
Jabber leaned forward, claws clicking against metal as smoke clung to him like it had claimed him first. His eyes were bright in the wrong way—too alert, too eager, like pain and attention were interchangeable things to him.
“Still training with your twin?” he called. “Thought you’d move on to real fights by now.”
Y/N didn’t look at him.
Cthonie did, already annoyed. “Don’t you have something to lick, inject, or set on fire?”
Jabber laughed, sharp and unhinged. “I fight better when I’m bored.”
“You fight better when you don’t think,” Y/N said, her tone flat, almost bored.
The training grounds went quiet.
Jabber’s grin twitched, something feral flashing behind his eyes before he masked it with amusement. “Say that again.”
Y/N tilted her head just enough for him to know she’d heard him. “You heard me.”
For a moment, it looked like he might jump the railing.
Then the horn blared.
Sharp. Commanding. Unavoidable.
An officer stepped forward, voice cutting cleanly through the tension. “Raiders, stand down. New assignment.”
Groans rippled through the crowd.
Cthonie glanced at Y/N. “Tie?”
Y/N nodded once. “Tie.”
“Intel mission,” the officer continued. “Trash monsters with special vital Instruments in them reported in the No Mans Land. Recon only. Gather information. Do not engage unless necessary.”
Y/N adjusted her glasses. “We’ll handle it.”
“Just you?” Cthonie asked.
“You and me.”
Jabber scoffed loudly. “Figures. You always bail before it gets fun.”
Y/N walked past him without slowing. “We don’t run from fights,” she said. “We run toward results.”
No Mans Land reeked of rust, rot, and broken machinery left to decay under its own weight.
Above them, the monster moved like a shadow stitched together from scrap and refuse, wings formed from torn banners, bent metal, and things that should not have flown at all. Its shriek echoed between collapsed structures, vibrating through bone.
Cthonie lowered her voice. “That thing’s massive.”
Y/N didn’t answer. She watched the pattern of its movement, then deliberately turned her gaze away from its left side.
Debris launched toward her from behind.
The impact barely registered, striking her shoulder weakly before dropping uselessly to the ground.
Cthonie exhaled a laugh. “I will never get used to that.”
“Focus,” Y/N said.
They moved through wreckage in silence, communicating through motion alone.
The monster descended suddenly, rage clumsy and unfocused.
Cthonie opened a hole beneath it, space warping as gravity betrayed the creature and forced it to stumble mid-air.
Y/N stepped in close and struck its core—not to kill, not yet, but enough to test the reaction.
The creature shrieked and recoiled, scattering fragments of glowing debris across the ground.
One shard rolled to Y/N’s feet.
A gem. Pale green. Warm to the touch.
She picked it up.
“You feel that?” Cthonie asked. “It’s reacting.”
“Effective,” Y/N said. “We bring it back.”
They withdrew as the monster circled above them, wounded and confused.
The cantine buzzed with overlapping voices and clattering metal when they returned, the air thick with smoke, sweat, and the restless energy of Raiders who had nothing better to do than argue about fights they hadn’t won yet.
Jabber was already there, standing at the center of a loose crowd, animated as ever, his voice carrying far too easily across the room as he gestured wildly with his poison-lined claws. “I’m telling you,” he said, laughter sharp and unhinged, “someone tried poisoning me with hallucination junk. Made everything feel good. Way too good. So obviously, I stole it.”
Y/N stopped in the doorway.
She didn’t need to see him to know it was him.
The smell reached her first—burnt weed, chemicals, something sour and artificial that clung to the back of her throat.
Smoke. Chemicals.
She exhaled slowly through her nose and frowned.