The sky over PLAGA 2 was always a sickly shade of gray. Even when the sun peeked through the clouds, the light felt like a spotlight on a stage nobody wanted to be on.
Phthisis walked beside Iris, hands in his pockets, pretending not to notice how sluggish her steps were. She looked pale, drained, and her wings—those elegant symbols of nobility—barely fluttered. She wasn't just tired.
She was nearly powerless.
Good to know.
Not that he'd do anything about it. Not yet.
"How far's your home from here?" Phthisis asked, casually glancing ahead.
"Far. I… I was supposed to meet with someone at a neutral zone east of here," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "But we were attacked on the way. My escort... I got separated."
"Let me guess—ambush?" Phthisis asked, keeping his tone light. "Mercs with anti-Z tech?"
She nodded, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. "Yes. They used sonic resonance traps. My Thazang Circle dimmed right away. I couldn't even lift a leaf."
"Happens to the best of you," Phthisis replied, almost cheerfully. "I mean, not me—I don't have a Circle. Not even a broken one."
That earned him a faint smile. Just enough to keep her from shutting down.
They walked past a collapsed building where children dug through rubble, hoping for edible mold or metal scraps. Iris turned to look, wings drawing in closer.
"What… happened to this place?" she asked quietly.
Phthisis didn't break stride. "PLAGA 2? Nothing happened. That's the problem."
She didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
He saw it in her face—this place was a shock to her. She'd likely grown up in clean palaces and lush forests, surrounded by music, crystal libraries, and other soft lies.
Out here? People didn't even cry when someone starved. They were too used to it.
They passed a slumped corpse leaning against a wall, its hand outstretched with a rusted cup. No one had even bothered to take the cup.
"You still sure you wanna help me for nothing?" Iris asked, suddenly, her voice sharper. "You could sell my location. There's a bounty for rogue Fairies, isn't there?"
Phthisis stopped, turned toward her slowly, and gave her the most genuine smile he could fake. "You wound me, Lady Iris."
She stared at him.
"I'm just saying," she said, less defensively now. "No one gives anything for free."
He shrugged. "My mom told me to be the exception."
And just like before, he didn't mention the part where he'd never met her.
Didn't know her name. Didn't even know if she was dead or alive.
He just kept walking.
They didn't get far before trouble found them.
Two ragged men stepped out of the alley. One had a shock baton, the other a broken piece of pipe with some crude nails jammed through it. Their eyes flicked to Iris, then to Phthisis.
"Well, well," one of them said. "Pretty thing you've got there, kid. Fairy, right? Let us help 'escort' her."
Phthisis groaned and put a hand to his forehead. "Really? You guys picked the worst day to be alive."
"Say that again, brat?"
Phthisis leaned slightly, nudging Iris behind him. She was trembling. Not in fear—but in weakness.
Her Thazang Circle—dim.
Empty.
"Can you fight?" he whispered.
She shook her head, ashamed. "I… I can't even trigger a Vine Pulse. My Circle's cold."
Of course it is, he thought.
The man with the pipe lunged first.
Phthisis ducked, grabbed a chunk of concrete from the ground, and slammed it into the man's shin. He howled, stumbled—and Phthisis kicked him hard in the gut, sending him backward.
The second man swung the baton, electricity crackling from its half-dead battery. Phthisis dodged left, grabbed a broken bottle from the gutter, and flung it in the man's face. Glass shattered across his skin.
Screaming, he swung blindly. Phthisis dropped to the ground and swept the man's legs out from under him.
They both fled, limping and cursing.
Phthisis stood up, panting, blood dripping from his knuckles. "Haha! fuckers run like the little pusssies you are!!"
He turned back toward Iris.
She stared at him, stunned.
"You're hurt," she said.
"Nah," he lied, brushing off his scraped arm. "This is nothing."
She looked at him like he'd just saved her entire family.
"Why would you… do that?" she asked. "You didn't have to."
Phthisis gave her the smallest; most honest smile he'd allowed all day. "You were in trouble. That's all."
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but instead, she just nodded.
Behind her, for the briefest moment, the dim ring of her Thazang Circle flickered with soft green light—then faded again.
Phthisis noticed.
So, she was starting to recover.
Good. He needed her alive and useful.