But…

  The strike never connected.

  A violent noise split the air. Some sort of pressure, something shattering at impossible speed.

  Something hit it.

  The impact came from above, a blur of dark metal that slammed into the giant’s forearm, sending the strike upward. The strike sent a shockwave through the rubble, leaving the SCAR unit staggered half a step back.

  Alice’s vision slowly came together.

  A figure hovered in the air.

  Armored, dressed almost identically to a SCAR unit. Glowing lines pulsed along the joints. Thrusters burned low. He turned his head, and the faceplate slid open with a mechanical hiss.

  “Hey,” a familiar voice said, strained but unmistakable. “Sorry, I’m late.”

  Alice’s breath caught. “You’re… Jill’s friend…?”

  He gave a tight, almost apologetic smile. “I got bored at Ruben’s.”

  “How are you…?”

  “Long story. This thing’s fighting on autopilot. Pretty cool stuff.”

  Alice was beyond confused. However, there were bigger things to worry about.

  The SCAR unit reacted instantly.

  Its other arm swung up, but Tim was already moving. He planted both hands against the fist, armor as he forced it back with his thrusters booming more than ever.

  “Okay,” Tim muttered through clenched teeth. “That’s… a lot.”

  With a sharp burst, he shot upward, dragging the SCAR unit’s arm with him, then twisted and drove himself forward, aiming its own fist at the SCAR unit.

  The slam was deafening.

  Tim collided with the SCAR unit’s faceplate like a missile. The giant’s head snapped back, stumbling sideways. It didn’t fall. But it staggered, which was enough.

  “Alice! Move!” Tim shouted, circling back. “I’ve got it! For now!”

  The SCAR unit turned toward Tim.

  Alice’s body finally listened.

  She sucked in a breath and rolled onto her side, coughing, forcing her vision to steady. The world still spun, but the pressure kicked in like never before.

  She pushed herself up onto one knee.

  Alice crawled toward Fernando.

  “Hey—hey,” she said, gripping his shoulder hard. “You with me?”

  “Leg’s pinned,” he said. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  “Yeah,” Alice said, scanning the slab. “I see that.”

  She planted her feet and shoved. The concrete didn’t move.

  Above them, Tim and the SCAR unit were fighting.

  Alice braced herself against the rubble again, muscles burning as she pushed. Still nothing.

  She glanced up once. It was obvious that he wasn’t winning.

  But he was buying them seconds. And seconds were everything.

  Alice had no choice. Her eyes flared red, summoning her inhumane strength. She grunted and lifted the massive slab of concrete, flipping it over. Her eyes reverted to normal immediately.

  “Much obliged,” Fernando said with a smirk. “Can’t feel a thing. Completely numb.”

  “I got you.” Alice helped Fernando stand, his arm around her shoulder. It took him some strength, but he got there. She looked at the fight above. “He’s barely holding his own…”

  Fernando inhaled sharply through his teeth. “I know what you’re thinkin’.” He said while looking up at the same scene. “Do you really want to throw another seven years down the drain?”

  Alice reached inside her sock, pulling out a small, dark hexagonal device. She flipped a small switch. The device instantly popped wider, the size of a hand, glowing a faint mixture of blue and purple.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Give me a better option.” She said bluntly.

  Fernando didn’t respond to her question, but instead encouraged her. “I trust you.”

  Alice called Tim’s name multiple times. He didn’t respond the first time, being preoccupied and all. Eventually, he listened.

  Tim unleashed several miniature bombs that emitted smoke and caused the SCAR unit to stumble once more. He maneuvered around the smoke and the SCAR unit’s wavering arms and delivered a strong blow to the forehead. It stood, moving even farther back, crushing the trees and wildlife beneath it.

  Tim circled back and landed in front of Alice and Fernando with a strong thud.

  “Take Fernando far from here. A kilometer, preferably.”

  Tim unmasked himself, streaks of sweat dripping down his face. “What? Why?”

  “He’s hurt and can’t go himself. Take him away.”

  “Hey, you aren’t capable of fighting that. Even I’m struggling, and I’m—”

  “Don’t worry,” Alice said. “Everything is under control.” Alice rolled up her sleeves and glanced at the hexagonal device. “Do as I say, kid.”

  He shrugged, defeated. “I—I guess. I’ll come—”

  “Don’t come back for me,” Alice said. “At least not right away.”

  Fernando jumped in. “I’ll explain in understandable terms. Let’s get a move on.”

  Alice and Fernando exchanged nods. Tim did as Alice instructed and flew Fernando out of the area.

  Alice waited until the sound of Tim’s thrusters faded into the distance. She took a breath and smirked.

  This particular part of the forest was destroyed, with trees crushed flat and dust hanging in the air. The SCAR unit loomed like an alien ready to cause more havoc. It was still coming.

  Alice ignored the ache in her head and the dusty taste in her mouth. Her fingers brushed the hexagonal device, and it mounted beneath her collarbone.

  Her eyes glared red.

  “Way to put a strain on my body.” She joked, before exhaling. Then, she muttered the forbidden word.

  “Transcendence…”

  The device pulsed once. Then she activated it.

  ***

  The world fractured. In the blink of an eye, the entire scene changed.

  The trees vanished. The smoke vanished. The sky above collapsed into a vast, sunny blue.

  The SCAR unit froze mid-step.

  Sand replaced concrete.

  Endless sand stretched in every direction.

  Then there was water.

  Water.

  A shoreline formed nearby. An ocean lay beyond it, perfectly still with no waves. No wind. Just a flat surface reflecting a sky.

  The smell of salt filled the air.

  Alice stood in the sand. Her clothes were unchanged, her sniper still slung across her back. The world around had bent to something deeper than technology. The device near her heart hummed, in sync with her pulse.

  The SCAR unit stepped forward.

  The sand dragged at its feet.

  Each movement became a chore. Its armored legs sank slightly with every step as if the ground itself was punishing it. Its sensors flared, scanning wildly.

  This place did not exist in its databases.

  Alice closed her eyes, and the ocean responded. Sound vanished. Silence wrapped the Reality Bubble, suffocating anything within.

  The SCAR unit paused. For the first time… it hesitated.

  Alice opened her eyes.

  And called its name.

  “Trascendance… The Beach of Grief.”

  Transcendence was not a technique.

  It wasn’t a weapon you trained, or a switch you turned on because of a little trouble. Transcendence was part of the QT serum. Only those who have mastered the Ascension stage could harness Transcendence.

  Alice attached a hexagonal device near her heart, bio-synced. It scanned brain waves, memory patterns, but more importantly, the QT serum. When activated, it generates a localized Reality Bubble, or field, in which the user controls the rules. Their trauma, desires, and pain shape the environment. Everyone in the field is subject to those altered rules, which is why Alice requested that Fernando and Tim leave the area.

  Inside a field, the rules changed.

  Time could stretch or compress.

  Physics didn’t obey the law.

  Enemies could be slowed, weakened, or erased.

  The user existed in a super-positioned state, but fundamentally untouchable unless they allowed themselves to be touched.

  Meaning the Reality Bubble was not separate from the user. It is the user.

  Memories became the terrain. Fear became weather. Desire, guilt, grief, every unresolved fracture of the psyche, manifested in some shape or form within the field.

  But Transcendence came at a cost. Each activation shaved away years of natural lifespan, roughly seven years per use, as the body burned itself sustaining an impossible state of existence.

  For this, Alice had no choice.

  The sand beneath the SCAR unit shifted, causing it to lose its balance, though it couldn’t fall due to its legs being stuck.

  Alice flew in the air, eye to eye with the SCAR unit. She held her finger in the air, creating a circular motion. The ocean water evaporated into Alice’s finger, then slowly formed a thin thread of water.

  “A thread that can slice through light itself.” She held on to the thread as tight as she could.

  The SCAR unit’s sensors spiked, screaming warnings it couldn’t interpret. Then the line appeared. A perfect cut appeared on its chestplate.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  The ocean behind Alice collapsed into waves for the first time.

  The crack widened on the SCAR unit.

  The armor separated, and the SCAR unit came apart in pieces that never touched the sand, dissolving midair, erased by rules it could never understand.

  Alice exhaled, and the thread slipped from her fingers and evaporated. The beach began to fade. Alice stood alone on the shoreline as the sky fractured once more.

  Reality returned.