Seven years earlier...

Ian didn't have much to do in the spacious Colony holding area, but he kept busy with the small tasks mandated to his sphere, such as cleaning. He'd gotten so bored that scrubbing the floor was starting to be fun.

"Hey," a sharp voice said.

Ian cringed. He should've seen this coming; six months was just too good to be true. And it would have to be the largest guy there, too.

He didn't know what had attracted the attention because he was sure to keep to himself. After closing his eyes, he knelt and tightened his grip on the brush; maybe he could use it as a weapon.

Ian remained still, not moving a muscle when the large man lowered himself beside him and sat back on his haunches.

"Your name's Ian, right?" He extended his hand. "The name's Neil."

Ian didn't bother to respond. He just kept a close watch on the man out of the corner of his eye.

His silence prompted Neil to continue. "I bet you're from the Thres section, amIright?"

Ian forced himself to go back to work, going through the motions was best.

Neil cleared his throat. "No? I mean, that accent. It's...it's why I'm going to be nice about this misunderstanding." He paused when Ian shuddered. "Hey, you okay?"

"Listen." Ian sucked in a breath and turned to look Neil in the eye. "I'm not interested. All right? I don't play cards no more. I ain't got shit left to lose. So go the fuck away already."

Neil looked stunned, which made no sense to Ian. Ian had given into his weakness and made a bet that lost him the one speck of treasure he had—his mother's gold necklace. There was nothing left. Ian knew it was a mistake to get comfortable these past six months. The guards that walked the perimeter were decent enough and never talked to anyone. Otherwise, no one really took note of him. His days of gambling were over.

In the back of his mind, he was waiting for the punch, so he let out a slow breath when the man stood and walked away embarrassed. Ian watched as his ill-fated complainer met up with two other men. One laughed at Neil's expense, while the other just gave Ian a dirty look.

Always eager and willing to run whenever the need arose, Ian stood with the brush in his hand and hurried to the only person he trusted in the entire area.

Rinn was busy sewing with a needle and thread. She looked up as Ian closed in, his skinny body twitching from panic.

Head cocked and brow wrinkled, Rinn grumbled, "What now? Honestly."

Despite being taller than Rinn, Ian crouched down behind her.

The man who had given him a dirty look closed in. Instead of addressing Ian, he directed his words at Rinn.

"Listen, that was really uncalled for. You lot don't have to be such pricks."

Without moving, Rinn glanced from Ian, who was cowering at her side, to the man looming over them both. She sighed.

"Neil?" When the man nodded, Rinn stood with a groan. "I told you already, Ian's not gonna pay that loss. To him the gold necklace he gave you was of value. Not everybody knows how gold's made here. He wasn't being rude. He's honestly just an ass."

The man didn't even crack a smile. "Nobody cheats my little brother and gets away with it. Gold? Actual, actual gold?" He leaned in, speaking through clenched teeth. "You can't bleed in here, slugs. But once your time's up, if I meet up on you two again, you'll fucking regret it."

"Alfred, seriously—"

"Fuck you, you N.Y. piece of shit. I was wrong about you; you're just trash, like your sickly idiot friend there."

When the man stomped off, Rinn closed her eyes and shook her head. She looked down at Ian, focusing on the fists clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. Rinn raised her right eyebrow when she saw the brush. Ian knew what she was thinking—he'd be fucking daft to take on Alfred armed with only a scrub brush and his fists. The idea was laughable, but Ian didn't care.

"Calm the hell down. This is your own fault and you're lucky Neil was looking to trade his useless winnings for something of value rather than beat you into the ground. That's no reason to start a war."

"Laugh it up." Ian trembled. "Nobody's trying to intimidate you, last I checked."

Rinn nodded, puckering her lips. "True. I guess I'm not as popular as you."

"Shut up."

"All right, all right. Sorry. But you'd think that after six months, you'd catch on. This place has something called Elementals. They can manipulate matter. Turns out, while gold is valuable where we're from, it's literally an Elemental baby's byproduct. In other words...shit."

Ian blinked at her. He wasn't buying her story but he had to admit, the way people regarded him after he put the necklace in Neil's hand was a bit strange.

"But you were going on and on about how much it's worth so poor Neil figured it only looked like gold. Imagine how much egg he had on his face when he found out it was actual gold."

At Ian's continued blank expression, Rinn sighed.

"Just make sure and keep your shirt loose like I told you. Don't tuck it in. That's all, and you're set." When Ian only glared at her in response, Rinn sighed. "Look at those guards." She nodded forward first, then to the right, then left. "Don't you notice anything?"

Ian wasn't interested in playing along, but he decided to give it a try—anything to get his mind off the fact that he was tempted to sleep with this cleaning brush as defense. He hadn't minded the guards much and just tried to keep out of their way. Now he finally realized one important thing he'd apparently been blind to for the last six months.

"What the fuck? They ain't armed."

Ian didn't know what Rinn's secret was; no one seemed to have anything but respect for her. She was good at all the sports they'd gather to play and easy to talk to. The fact that she didn't seem interested in trying anything with anyone was why Ian stayed close, thinking he'd keep her safe—as laughable as that was. But lately he'd started to realize that while he was the village joke, Rinn walked around without a care in the world.

"No. Not really." Rinn sat down to her sewing. "If you'd stop panicking and just take a second to think things through, you'd realize it's pretty easy to stay on top here. Just go back to work and stop acting like everyone's out to get you, all right?"

Her words made Ian bristle. He would've voiced his grievance at being dismissed but he caught the sound of chatter in the distance. The man, Alfred approached one of the guards. It was strange, and made all the more so when another guard joined them. A few minutes later, six guards had gathered. They approached Ian. He took note of the fact that they came to him and not Rinn. That couldn't be good.

The lead guard looked young, his voice a bored drawl.

"So, you've caused another problem. What is this, the tenth one this week? How do you idiots keep getting thrown in here, anyhow?"

Rinn wasn't involved, but as was her way, she stood and played the diplomat.

"We didn't mean to cause any trouble—"

"Shut up, N.Y. We're talking to this oddball." The guard directed his attention to Ian again. "Where you from, anyhow?"

All eyes on him, Ian brushed his hands on his trousers. He felt unkempt, so he made a fast job of tucking his shirt in, anything to look presentable.

He was still in the middle of tucking in his shirt when he found out the hard way that Rinn's observation was dead wrong. The guards were armed, which was made clear when all six of them drew guns from behind their backs and took aim.

"Don't fucking move, gui-ren. Get the fuck down! Now!"

The guns whined, and Ian felt persuaded to consider lying down a spell.

With his hands up, Ian lay down stomach first, and then put his hands behind his head.

"Take that off. Now. Now," the young guard barked.

Surprise made Ian's response sluggish. "I don't got nothing."

"Now, you gaw-raw—"

"I don't got nothing!" Ian tensed when someone reached under him. Rinn wore a look of determination as she unbuckled Ian's belt. Ian was in awe. "My belt? 'Oh no, he's got a belt?' You assholes are pointing a gun at me over a fucking belt?"

After tossing the object aside, Rinn raised her hands and backed away. She reached below her shirt, unbuckled her own belt, and threw it on the ground as well.

Ian tried to laugh, but someone stepped on his back to keep him down. Hands bound with thin plastic, he looked up to Rinn to see his friend suffer the same fate.

As they were being led from the room, he heard Alfred gasp, "What the...? Who put criminals in lock-up with first offenders? What kind of imp-shit is this?"

Neil's voice carried. "Geez. They looked so friendly, too."

***

Half an hour later, Ian rammed the steel door again with a groan. "Fucking bastards,"

"Will you stop?" Rinn, unlike Ian, sat unbound, arms folded across her chest. "If you'd just act like an adult, they probably would have taken those twisty ties or whatever off. Damn it, stop being such an ass."

"Fuck off."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to let up on the swears. Or the testosterone. If you tried using your head now and then, you would have figured this shit out a long time ago.

"Nobody's got a belt," she continued. "That's what I meant. Apparently, nobody wears them here, and people who do, use them to strangle people or...or hide weapons in them or something. Same goes for shoelaces. Murderers like that are nicknamed 'Gui-rens' so that's why the guard called you that."

Ian glared at her but Rinn only rolled her eyes. "Stop looking at me like that. Nobody tried to do shit to me. But I did notice people eying my belt when I first got in, so I started to hide it. That's why I figured they kept their distance, but once I got to talking with people, I heard that some had never even seen a fucking belt. Can you believe that?"

Ian scowled and turned to the door again. "You couldn't have shared this bit of info sooner?"

"No. It was fun watching you stumble around like a newborn. If you'd tried to make friends with these people, you would have realized it a long time ago. Didn't you notice that nobody stays here for more than a week? It's just a detention center. We're the only ones who have been here longer than that."

Ian turned to her. "Why? How come we're stuck here?"

The soft knock at the door drew their focus, and they waited. Nothing happened, so Ian called out, "Yeah?"

After the door slid open, a tall man with dark-brown hair and green eyes stepped in. He made a fast job of cutting Ian of his bonds and stepped back.

"Oh good," he exclaimed, extending his hand first to Ian and then to Rinn, who wouldn't shake it. "I got to you guys in time. Listen—"

"You." Rinn eyed the man and sat up from her slouched posture. "You're the one who brought us to this damn place. Where the hell are we? Why'd you bring us here?"

Ian didn't recognize the visitor at first, but an instant later, it dawned on him: Smiley.

At Rinn's sharp words, Smiley took a step back but regained his composure. Unlike regular guards, who wore black shirts and gray pants, this man was dressed entirely in black. The various pockets along his pant legs and shirtsleeves weren't just for show; even Ian could see that.

"You two were taken in as prisoners," Smiley continued. "My crew brought you in, but you should have been let out after a day or two."

Rinn folded her arms again, her tone cold. "Where the hell are we?"

"Prisoners? We're in a prison." Ian looked up and groaned. "I fucking knew it. I felt it in my gut. We're in a fucking prison."

"You're in the Colony." The information didn't garner much of a reaction, so the man tried again. "It's...it's sort of a prison. Yes." Ian cringed, and Smiley focused on him. "And unless you want to be released into the general-population, you'll listen. I thought you guys were already out. If you haven't figured it out yet, you're underground. But you can get out. I...I can get you guys Topside. From there you can make your way back home to...." He paused to consider it. "To Canada, right?"

"America," Rinn corrected.

Smiley flushed. "Right. Right, America. Sorry. I knew it was on the North American continent somewhere."

"Why now?" Rinn sat up and propped her elbows on her knees. "You're just now coming to get us? Why?"

"Fuck that." Ian was quick to interrupt. "Didn't you hear him? They're gonna put us into the general population. As a woman that alone should worry you. It worries me at least. We need to leave."

"We should go. If they tattoo you to the Colony, it's hell to leave after that," Smiley said. "W—we should go now. Right now. All right?"

Ian was already on his feet. "Let's go then."

"So it's agreed? You'll go Topside, right?" Smiley looked at him with a shaky smile.

"No. I'm not going." Rinn still hadn't moved from her firm posture. "Not on your life."

"I'll go," Ian beamed. "I'll fucking go right now. What are we waiting for?"

Beads of sweat started to pearl down the man's brow. He hesitated. "It has to be both of you. Whatever you decide, it's either you both go or you both stay. Now, if you stay...if you stay, you'll be set loose in the Colony. There aren't any guards walking the tunnels or the halls. If the E's don't get you, the imps fucking will, and let's not forget about—"

"Why do you care so much?" Rinn interrupted. Between Ian's excitement and their visitor's worry, she was a pillar of calm. "We've been here for six damn months, and you haven't so much as pissed in our direction."

"Listen," Smiley said, swallowing hard. "Met's coming. Do you hear me? Met's fucking coming for you two."

Rinn didn't even bat an eyelash, but Ian found that his mouth was dry. He struggled to speak. "Wh—who? That's a person, right? It's a person?"

"He's High ELETE. He's our top enforcer. When I say he makes Death look like a schoolgirl, it's not an understatement."

"Yeah. Okay." Rinn sat up and waved Smiley away. "Right, well, we'll see how it goes. I already know about Metska. I don't need you to rattle our cages. So how about you take a walk?"

Rinn rolled her eyes at the man's obvious surprise. "Dude, we're just under lockup. It's not like we're deaf. I talk to people. So move the fuck on, all right? 'Cause I seriously doubt you suddenly have an interest in us when we've been rotting in that detention center for half a year. Fuck off."

Smiley turned to leave but Ian hurried to catch up.

"Hey. Hey! She doesn't speak for both of us. I wanna leave, all right? Talk to them—tell 'em to let me go alone. Whatever it takes, but get me the fuck outta this place."

Smiley left without another word. As soon as the door closed, Ian pivoted and growled at Rinn. He never thought himself capable of hitting a woman but it took everything in him to resist the urge to take hold of the crucifix chain around Rinn's neck and use it to strangle her.

"What is your fucking problem? Don't you wanna leave?"

Rinn shook her head with a sigh. "'Course I want to. But you liked the guy, so that right there was a bad sign."

"Stop fucking around. We can get the hell off this rock. You're just too thick to see it. That guy didn't have the fruity-colored hair like some of them other weird ones. He even shook our hands, which is more than anybody else has done. So what's your problem with him?"

"You know, you judge people a lot from the first glance. Doesn't that get old fast?"

Ian gritted his teeth. "We can leave."

"We don't know that." Rinn cocked her head to one side. "So far, we get three square meals. We haven't been harassed or beaten. It's like we just disappeared in there to be forgotten. Now this guy shows up out of nowhere, and we should automatically trust him? Are you kidding? You want to leave this place and go into the unknown? Shouldn't we find out more about it first? We don't know if we're on a different fucking planet, even. All we know is that we're here, we're in one piece, and now that people are taking notice of us, the bastard who brought us here against our will is shitting bricks." She waited, her eyes pleading for Ian to react.

Ian knew Rinn wanted him to worry or at least take a more cautious approach, but he only sat in his chair and sulked. He turned his back to her, prompting an audible sigh.

"You don't wanna think about this place, but—"

"The more you keep talking, the more you make me think we'll die here," Ian countered.

"Just listen. I've been talking to people when I knew they were about to be rotated out. Far as I know, this place is huge, and it's divided into sections. That's why that guy was calling me N.Y."

"New York?"

Rinn ignored Ian's incredulous tone. "Not Yet. It's a section full of Americans—well, people of American descent—who don't have sanction, so they nicknamed it 'N.Y.' for 'Not Yet sanctioned,' you see?"

"Just shut the fuck up."

"But that's why they think you're from here. Because you sound like people in some sorta section with a weird name, and—"

"Give it a rest, already."

Rinn persevered despite Ian's stubbornness. "Hey! At this point, you literally can't think past saving your own ass, can you? But I'm not about to cower in a corner and wait around for strangers to save us. We don't know where we are, fine, but we can work with what we know. And maybe we'll get released into this place, but I've never heard of a prison or holding area so well controlled. It's even co-ed. Nobody, and I mean nobody, tried anything."

Ian refused to respond, and Rinn sighed. "I don't want to stay here, but shouldn't we find out what 'here' is? Worst-case scenario, if we have to stay, we can try to adjust."

"Stay? Fuck. That." Ian turned his back to Rinn completely, his tone soft as he watched the floor. "Every time you start spewing that rubbish, it just reminds me that you're set on staying here." His voice lowered into a whisper. "And you're dragging me down with you. Just...just shut it. Stop talking. If you never open your mouth again, it'd be too soon. When you have a chance to run, you're supposed to fucking run."