Chapter 19 Flame and Phi
“I think other elements, like tin, should be added to the rips to make them perfect again. It won’t matter much, but it will smooth the surface,” Kit explained while tightening the last bolt.
Red stood there, watching her work in silence. Kit was repairing the young man’s arm with surprising skill. She kept mentioning additional materials, elements Red barely recognized.
Uranium, titanium, copper, tin—words that sounded like science from a world Red had never understood. Her head throbbed from trying.
Kit always said Red lacked mechanical skills, yet she was unaware of Red’s natural intuition. Red could sense energy; she could feel tension in the metal, but she had no vocabulary for any of it.
Kit finally placed her tools back into the box with a satisfied breath. “All done.”
“Excellent.” The young man tested his arm, flexing his fingers. A relieved smile lit his face. “Thank you, Kit.”
Kit nodded as though it was nothing special. “I’m sure it works just fine now.”
“It really does.” The young man shifted his hand again in awe.
“Yas is paying me a lot of eire for this,” said the girl with pigtails, cheerful in contrast to the grimness around them. “She said your hand wouldn’t function anymore, so this means she owes me.”
Yasmin had left without saying goodbye, which didn’t surprise Kit. It had been an hour since Yasmin’s departure, long enough for Kit to finish the repair. She vanished as soon as the deal was made, as if she didn’t care whether Kit succeeded or not.
Flame and Phi, the two young Metaphysic companions Yasmin left behind, stayed. Flame was seventeen, tall and confident, while Phi, only fifteen, had bright eyes and a voice that seemed too gentle for the world they were in.
They were from the same district, even went to the same high school, but lived at an entirely different level of existence than Red or Kit.
Phi spoke often, her stories flowing without effort. She talked about her hometown, and to Red’s surprise, it sounded almost like the place Red, Call, and Kit came from.
There were similarities in the markets, the train routes, and even the way neighbors argued. Yet everything was altered, as if seen through a fractured mirror.
Kit could talk to Phi easily. Their conversations drifted like old friends reunited by coincidence. Call, meanwhile, kept his distance. He sat near Ursula’s limp form, hands fidgeting, afraid to come closer. Ursula hadn’t moved for a while.
“So, you bet with Yasmin?” Flame asked.
Phi nodded as naturally as breathing. “We did. I said you would be alright, but she insisted you wouldn’t.”
Flame let out a soft laugh. “Yasmin is rational. She thinks no one can fix this arm.”
“I believe someone can. There’s always someone,” Phi replied, glancing at Flame as though her faith alone could rebuild a person.
Flame reached out, lightly touching her cheek. “You believe too easily, Phi. That’s why you’re irrational.”
Red and Kit exchanged a look. It was awkward watching the two flirt so openly. Kit coughed, packing her tools. Red looked away. Call yawned, obviously pretending, rubbing his forehead for no reason at all.
Flame rose to his feet. “See you. I hope you all survive.”
“Wait.” Phi removed a small card from the slot on her bracelet. Red hadn’t noticed it before. “This is for helping Flame.”
“No,” Flame snapped. “We’ll get scolded by Sethi and Yasmin.”
“It’s mine. I can give it to anyone I want.” Phi pouted with childish stubbornness.
“You should give the whole bracelet if you want to do that. The card is useless for them; it’s in your name.”
“Is that so? Then we should go to the city and give them what they need. Right?”
Red and Kit stared at each other. The Metaphysic girl was reckless and naive in a way Red never expected. They always imagined Metaphysics as distant, heartless, and unattainable. Yasmin had been cold, calculating. But Phi and Flame didn’t match that image at all. They were just teenagers, dangerous ones, but still teenagers.
“What’s that for?” Red asked.
“It’s an eire card. Every time you win a match in the Cirque, eire accumulates there. You redeem it by scanning your bracelet,” Flame explained.
“I never knew it looked like that,” Kit murmured.
“That’s why so many people steal them,” Phi added. “Humans rob, hunt, and ambush anyone with a bracelet. Competing in the Cirque without a team is suicide.”
Eire meant survival: food, shelter, medicine, weapons. Humans couldn’t use eire directly. They needed someone with the proper classification for that. Humans had to rely on alliances to live.
“You two competed?” Kit asked.
Flame and Phi nodded. “For practice,” Phi said lightly.
“Eire is easier if you’re a Tank, Gunner, or Swordsman,” Flame added.
“But Supports can’t enter the Cirque, right?” Red asked, dread growing in her chest.
“They can’t,” Flame confirmed.
“Then how do they survive?” Red looked at Kit, fear sinking in. Kit had value, but she had no access.
“They need a wealthy team,” Flame answered. “A Guild. They rent their skills. Once they earn enough, they build a workshop. With a workshop, they can sell weapons and parts.”
Kit went still, as if her body froze from the inside. No one noticed except Red.
“You’re lucky,” Phi said to Kit. “At least you’re useful. Some people will pay for what you can do.”
Red finally understood the AI classification. Support was not weakness. It was a system. A chain. The strong needed the weak, the weak needed protection, and only those who understood where they stood could survive.
Then Flame asked, “Join us?”
Kit froze. Red saw her eyes widen. A chance. A future.
“Go, Kit. Take it. You’ll be safer with them,” Red said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Kit shook her head stubbornly. “Do you want to kick me out?”
“Of course not. I just want you to live.”
Kit huffed and ruffled Red’s hair. “Don’t pity me.”
Red didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Kit already understood.
Phi tilted her head. “Then tell us what you need. We’ll get it for you.”
“Workshop,” Red said, without thinking.
Everyone fell silent. Flame finally shrugged. Phi considered it.
“As you wish,” Flame said.
“You’ll give us free service. That makes it even,” Phi replied with a smile too innocent for the weight of her words.
Kit hesitated. Then nodded. “Alright.”
Phi gestured for Call to follow and turned to Red. “We can leave now. The city isn’t safe, but who would dare attack us?”
“Wake Ursula,” Call said.
“She’ll follow,” Red replied.
“Follow?” Phi blinked. “We’re not walking. I’ve never transported anything that big. I need practice.”
“Then how do we get there? Fly?” Kit asked.
Phi chuckled softly. She raised her hands, and the air behind her rippled like water folding into itself. Darkness opened, stretching wider, swallowing the light.
“No. We’re using the portal.”
A vortex formed, spiraling, black and soundless.