The shimmer of the Fast Travel faded in a blink and suddenly Verdamona was drowning in noise.
New York.
Skyscrapers rose all around her, reflecting the night sky in blinding streaks. Cars honked every second with a thousand conversations melted into the buzz of the city.
Verdamona had to stop walking for a second. She tugged at her simple sleeveless dress, suddenly conscious of how ordinary she looked against Xaessiarerich beside her. Or… Xaessia, as she had been told to call her now.
Also, she forgot about the time difference. Even though it was 5am in New York and 8am back in Reversa Island, she was shocked the city was active at this time.
Xaessia looked ridiculous and intimidating. She wore a long gothic dress that swept the pavement, black boots with chains, a fitted corset and a black mask, oversized sunglasses and a pristine white sunhat. She looked like a gothic movie star who got lost in the wrong century. Verdamona actually choked back a laugh before whispering.
"Xaessia, you look like you're cosplaying three different aesthetics at once."
Xaessia didn't even flinch. She was staring at the crowd like a hawk.
"Better ridiculous than recognized. Trust me, you don't want paparazzi sniffing out an Argemenes doing casual shopping. They will spin it like I'm scouting rivals or showing weakness."
"You can't even buy clothes without it turning into a political scandal?"
"No," Xaessia adjusted her sunglasses. "House life is political to the world."
Verdamona was silent for a second before flagging down a yellow cab, feeling a strange thrill at just… doing it.
"Taxi!"
She called and one screeched to a halt like it had been waiting for her all its life. She got in first, sliding across the cracked leather seats, Xaessia following with surprising grace for someone wrapped in so many layers of black.
"Heart's Boutique," Verdamona told the driver.
The man nodded, pulled into traffic and suddenly they were being swallowed by the river of cars, neon signs and flashing billboards. Verdamona pressed her cheek against the window with her eyes wide like a kid.
"I still can't believe this city exists. It's so… alive."
Xaessia leaned back, crossing her legs. Her goth skirt was taking up way too much space.
"Alive? It's loud, filthy and pretentious. But it's also where power gathers. You want to know who matters in Flux society? You don't look at capitals or kingdoms. You look at who shops in New York."
Verdamona turned from the glass. "That's depressing."
"It's reality."
They fell into silence for a moment. That's when Xaessia reached into her pocket and pulled out something gleaming. She held it out without ceremony.
"Take this."
Verdamona blinked. In Xaessia's gloved hand lay a golden, polished crest and unmistakably expensive. It was shaped like a rose, its petals razor-sharp, with a crown of thorns curling above it.
It was the Argemenes crest.
Verdamona hesitated before taking it, feeling its cold weight against her palm.
"This is…"
"Your ticket to not being humiliated before we even step inside. If anyone at Heart's Boutique asks, you flash that and say you're an Officia Fluxer for House Argemenes. Don't say you're independent. Don't say you're an ordinary Fluxer. Just… don't, unless you want a pack of House heirs and their lackeys to rip you apart with words and threats that sting worse than knives."
Verdamona frowned. "It's that serious?"
Xaessia let out a humorless laugh. "It's worse than serious. It's systematic. House Fluxers rule the board. Our Flux types are sharper, stronger and cleaner. To them, ordinary Fluxers are just… background noise. To them, they're the kind of people you hire for grunt work or bodyguards but never equals."
She turned her head toward the window.
"And if you're human or Hybrid, it's worse. You don't know how many ordinary Fluxers sell their pride just to get scraps of recognition from Houses. That's how bad the gap is."
Verdamona's hands tightened around the crest. She thought back to Phaser and his tired little smiles whenever someone underestimated him and how he never said anything when House brats mocked him.
It burned.
"That's disgusting."
"Yes, but it's the world we live in."
Verdamona looked at her. Xaessia was wrapped in all her gothic armor, sitting there like a queen in exile, talking about cruelty as if it were just the weather. And yet she was helping her. She had handed her the Argemenes crest, a symbol she probably wasn't supposed to share.
"So what happens if someone finds out I'm not from a House?"
"They'll eat you alive. They will whisper that you're unworthy. They will laugh about how you don't belong in the same room as them and some might even challenge you just to prove a point. And the worst part? They'll enjoy it."
Verdamona swallowed, gripping the crest tighter. "That's not power. That's bullying."
"Welcome to House politics."
The cab stopped at a red light and Verdamona glanced at Xaessia again. She remembered something suddenly from high school. Xaessia used to command the room with her gothic flair, how everyone whispered about her being different and mysterious. And now here she was, admitting it had all been an act for attention.
"You know, for someone who says she's outgrown high school hatred, you still sound like someone carrying way too much of it."
"And for someone who called me sexy an hour ago, you sure are bold with your words."
Verdamona flushed, turning back to the window.
"I didn't call you sexy, I said I was shocked! There's a difference!"
Xaessia chuckled softly. It was the first laugh that wasn't bitter.
"Relax, Verdamona. I'm not offended. If anything, you're the first friend in years who's spoken to me like a person instead of a symbol. I guess I don't hate that."
The cab rolled forward again, skyscrapers flashing by. Verdamona held the crest in her lap.
'Friend, huh?'
Maybe this was what the first step looked like.
------
By the time the taxi rolled to a halt, Verdamona's head was pounding. The trip had taken nearly an hour with stop-and-go traffic, horns blaring in symphonies of irritation, cyclists weaving dangerously close and pedestrians who seemed fearless of death itself. It was only six in the morning but when she stepped out of the cab with Xaessia, the street outside Heart's Boutique was already alive.
The boutique's grand glass front rose. Golden letters spelled out Heart's Boutique New York Headquarters, and before it was a crowd that stretched across the block.
"It's six in the morning."
Xaessia adjusted her sunglasses, unimpressed. "And?"
"There's a crowd already!"
"Of course. This is Heart's Boutique, the largest fashion company in the world. One of their headquarters is here. The Houses buy their wardrobes here. Do you think getting in is as simple as walking through the door? Appointments can take weeks, months even. Some people literally camp outside hoping for a chance."
Verdamona scanned the restless line of people: men and women dressed in silks, sharp suits, extravagant dresses; assistants holding parasols or carrying boxes; whispers in ten different languages floating in the air.
"And… we're supposed to get in with them?"
Xaessia finally smirked. "No. We don't wait."
With that, she simply began walking forward past the crowd and their glares.
'Is she insane? They'll tear us apart!'
And sure enough—
"Hey!"
A voice rang out. A tall man stepped from the line with his silver cuffs gleaming. His eyes narrowed at the two of them.
"What do you think you're doing? The line starts back there."
More voices rose.
"Who do they think they are?"
"Skipping the line. How disgraceful."
"They look too young to be serious patrons."
The air thickened with disdain. Fluxers always loved hierarchy and nothing enraged them more than someone breaking it. The man planted himself firmly in front of them, blocking the path. His chest puffed with arrogance, and he sneered.
"You think you can walk past us? Who do you belong to? Which House backs you?"
Verdamona's heart skipped. She tightened her grip on the Argemenes crest Xaessia had given her.
'Should I show it? Should I—'
But Xaessia didn't even blink. She exhaled a tired sigh and with a casual flick of her hand, she removed her hat.
The world seemed to stop.
Her long wavy crimson hair spilled free, her deep tanned skin catching the early light. Though half her face was hidden by the mask and sunglasses, the crowd recognized her instantly.
"Xaessiarerich," someone whispered.
"Argemenes bloodline…" Another voice shook.
"It's her, Lady Xaessiarerich Argemenes!"
The man who had blocked their way froze. His arrogance cracked into panic but Xaessia only tilted her head.
"You threatened me."
Before Verdamona could process it, the man collapsed to the pavement with a strangled gasp. His body convulsed violently. His skin was bubbling with crimson roses that bloomed out of nowhere, thorns tearing through his flesh. His screams echoed against the boutique's walls as petals scattered across the ground.
The crowd reeled back in horror.
Verdamona's breath hitched. Roses were growing from inside him. His veins had become stems. His blood was feeding the flowers as they split his skin in grotesque beauty. Xaessia only sighed.
"A mere Officia Fluxer threatening a House bloodline. You should have known better."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Nobody dared move. Nobody dared to breathe too loudly. After a few seconds, boots clicked sharply against the marble steps. Boutique guards arrived, their uniforms pristine white trimmed with gold. Their Flux auras were disciplined, sharp, the kind trained to deal with volatile heirs of Houses.
They didn't shout. They didn't raise their weapons. Instead, they bowed slightly.
"Lady Xaessiarerich Argemenes, please, do not cause a scene outside the boutique. We humbly request restraint."
Verdamona could barely comprehend it. Even as a man writhed in agony at their feet, the guards addressed Xaessia with politeness. Xaessia closed her eyes, exhaling again and with another subtle wave of her fingers, the roses wilted. The man collapsed fully, sobbing on the pavement, his skin smooth once more, save for the faint marks of thorns that would probably scar him for life.
The guards nodded.
"This way, my lady."
They stepped aside, opening a path directly to the gleaming boutique doors.
Xaessia adjusted her hat, slipping it back on with a cool flick, and began walking.
The crowd remained utterly silent. No one dared to speak or move. Verdamona stood frozen for a moment, her chest tight with shock. She glanced back at the man still trembling on the ground, then at Xaessia's calm silhouette.
'How powerful… is she?'
Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the crest against her chest. Yet, for all her fear, a strange awe pulsed through her veins.