Page 30 of Ruin

She shook him, lightly at first, then harder. Still nothing. Not even a twitch.

Chapter 10

Lira’s pulse set to hammering, the rapid thud of it throbbing behind her eyes. The musty air suddenly felt thick and suffocating. The walls of the narrow passageway seemed to press in on her.

She tried to focus past the clawing panic, to think of what to do next, but her mind felt like it was full of static.

What if Ruin never woke up? What if he was wrong, and the poison was lethal?

Forcing herself to draw in a slow, calming breath past the choking tightness, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder, letting his scent and the steady rise and fall of his chest soothe her.

He wasn’t dying. He was just… sleeping. Sort of.

Exhaling shakily, she concentrated on pushing back the fear. He couldn’t afford for her to fall apart. He needed her to be strong.

First things first, she had to get him somewhere safer. Preferably back to their hideout.

When she felt more in control, she maneuvered around, hooked her arms under his, and heaved. Teeth gritted, muscles screaming in protest, she put everything she had into moving him.

After several agonizing minutes of straining and grunting, she’d only succeeded in dragging him about a foot.

Sweat dripped into her eyes, stinging painfully, and her arms trembled with exhaustion. Admitting defeat, she propped him back against the wall and stood. Lira scanned the dim passageway, searching for anything that might help her transport his massiveness back to their hideout.

Scattered trash, a pile of scrap metal, some tattered old rags of what might’ve once been clothing. None of it helpful.

Her gaze slid back to the pile of metal and narrowed. Something about the shape of it was oddly familiar. Walking over to it, she pushed aside the debris, brows shooting up when she realized what she’d found.

It was a maintenance bot, but she hadn’t seen this model in use in… well, for as long as she could remember.

Even dented and cracked, the metallic exoskeleton torn open in places to reveal the inner nodes and crystalline filamentation, it still looked to be in surprisingly good shape.

Streamlined and sleek, with four arthropod wings along its narrow back and half a dozen thin, nimble limbs, it was made to navigate tight spaces. She knew, somehow, it was Quicksilk tech, though how she knew that was a mystery.

She was also pretty sure she knew how to fix it.

This wasn’t the first time she’d gotten a feeling like this—an intuition that she possessed knowledge she couldn’t remember learning. Erasing someone’s memories wasn’t the same as erasing the things they knew.

This might just work. If she could get it powered up, it’d be more than capable of carrying Ruin for her.

Of course, that was a big ‘if.’

“Can’t know until we try,” she whispered under her breath.

Casting one more glance back at Ruin, just to make sure he was still breathing and didn’t look uncomfortable, she got to work.

With a hard exhale, she let her mind go blank and just… started. Her hands seemed to move of their own accord, repairing connections and rerouting burnt filaments with a precision that felt almost instinctual, as if she’d done this a thousand times.

Time seemed to blur as she lost herself in the work, barely noticing the ache in her back or the grime coating her hands.

After what felt like hours, she sat back and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Okay, let's see if this works.” She pressed the activation node and held her breath.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Just as her shoulders began to slump, it gave a soft whir and the photoreceptors flickered to life, glowing a pale pink. Its wings twitched and unfurled as it jerkily lifted itself up on spindly legs.

A slow smile grew as she peered up at the now-standing bot until she was grinning so widely her cheeks ached.

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