THREE: dawn

[Slight Warnings: Mentions of death and implied ual assault. It’s not too much that I need to mark it as TW.

Hera wouldn’t stop convulsing. Her arms shook and flung in the air, her parched throat burning as if she’d drank gasoline. Pain crept up everywhere. Her bones felt like it would shatter with each moment. Heat embraced her like a blanket, a pair of equally warm strong arms wrapped around her. The person held her tight to stop her from shaking, but Hera couldn’t stay still.

A strangled scream left her lips. With each passing second, she felt the wind being knocked away from her. Her blood boiled, the light encompassing her blinding. Her eyes felt too heavy to open, the weight of her body dragging her down that there was not much difference to drowning.

Above her, a man grunted. She felt her mind spin even with her eyes closed, that same warp-like visions clouding her in the darkness. Her arm lay limp against something solid. The sound of an erratic thumping of heartbeat pulled her thoughts away for a second from the excruciating pain she suffered. Her muscles tore itself apart from one another, and Hera moaned in agony, her back bending in an ungodly manner. “Baeri!” a deep voice boomed. A cold metal surface touched her back, Hera’s arms whacking the steel beneath her. “I command your presence!”

“Y-Your Majesty—”

“Help her. Immediately.”

What sounded like a young woman gasped, “But Your Majesty, you are also in pain. Let me assist—”

“I said, help the girl. I’ll be fine.”

Hera cried out for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. She couldn’t take it anymore. It burned everywhere. Her eyes were blinded, nothing but the obscurity of darkness lurking down on her. She couldn’t feel her feet or hands, yet she felt the way her spine collapsed with a thunk. Hera whimpered, tears streaming down her face as she blindly clawed for something, for someone to save her.

“Help,” she croaked out, gasping when a trail of blood trickled down her lips. “Please. Save me.”

“Good God,” something beeped in the background, “Her body temperature is flaring up. Organs are quite near failure and her oxygen levels are rapidly decreasing,” Hera began to dwindle at where she was situated, the voices blurring into white noise. “Her lungs are about to combust, Your Majesty. And her spine…” the young woman gasped, “It’s seconds away from cracking into pieces.”

“You can save her, don’t you?”

Through Hera’s dazed and pained state, she was sure she sensed fear in his voice. The room fell silent for a fleeting second, although it felt like an entirety to Hera. She clawed at when it constricted, opening and closing as she huffed for air. Oxygen was leaving her lungs and there was a ringing behind the pressure of her skull.

Hera felt something cool being injected to the side of her neck that rendered her immobile for a few seconds, then, a worried voice whispered, “Yes, Your Majesty. But I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room.”

Hera didn’t know how it was possible, but when she opened her eyes, she was sure she’d seen the face of a handsome young man contorted into pain. His eyes were a deep shade of brown, as deep as the frown that graced his full lips. Hera let out one last puff of air, catching his attention. When the young man’s eyes fell on her, his gaze softened for a bit – although it could’ve just been her imagination – because when she blinked, he was already gone.

▼△▼

Warm. That was the first thing her mind registered. With eyes closed, her hands bundled on a thick, fluffy blanket above her. Hera stopped moving. Slowly, she cracked one eye open, all rational thoughts leaving her mind.

She’d never been in this room before.

The room was dark, save for the light blue linings of light that glowed through thin stripes. Hera sat up, wincing when her spine ached. Where was she?

She looked down on her lap. A huge black blanket was laid upon her body, which was adorned with what seemed like a man’s white dress shirt. Hera froze in fear as she realized she was bottom , save for the fact that the shirt fell down to her mid-thigh. Consciously, she brought the blanket up to her nose, calming down a bit when it smelled of lavender. Hera’s gaze travelled to the entirety of the room.

The room was the size of her own laboratory. It housed a California King bed with a black wooden headboard, paired with white pillows and a black cotton blanket. On her right, a floor to length glass window gave her a view of the outside world. As Hera squinted her eyes, she felt her heart drop.

She’d seen this place before.

Towers upon towers lay outside, purple and cyan holographic people speaking a somewhat familiar language. It sounded like Korean, but there were terms she couldn’t understand, and the accent along with its dictation felt different. Jets zoomed past the windows and Hera fell back on her pillows at the speed which they flew. Flashes of red and blue flame left a white trail of smoke in its path. When it cleared, Hera’s eyes widened at how the towers and city outside was now covered in layers of clouds.

If clouds could get up this high…then that meant…

Hera shook her head. No. She didn’t believe it. There was no way she was in the world of the Sky People. Maybe she just hit her head from the explosion and was now hallucinating. That was right. This was simply a trick of the mind. She wasn’t insane, just a little dazed out.

With that thought, Hera let out a nervous laugh. She ran her hands through her hair, only to find that it was knot-free and silky smooth. She paused in confusion. Her hair had never been that soft before. It felt like she’d run her hands through golden silk. Hera looked around the room before she caught sight of the large mirror right next to a tall cabinet. She threw the blankets off her, swishing her legs to the side of the bed to trudge there when the door opened.

Immediately, Hera ducked back to the bed. She shuffled the covers until only her eyes peeked out. A man walked in, a scowl on his face as he muttered something to himself. He was tall and had golden skin, his golden blond hair the shade of fine champagne the directors enjoyed back at her home. He was handsome – stunningly so – with a strong, defined jaw that clenched at each movement.

Something about him seemed familiar, but Hera couldn’t quite place a finger to it.

Hera held back a squeak when the man took off his dark blue coat. She was even more surprised when the cabinets he stood in front of opened by itself. He shoved the coat in, still angrily whispering something to himself. A light blue light appeared in the cabinet before it assumed the shape of a cloth hanger. Then, a lighter shade of cyan wrapped around the coat with a hiss. Hera watched closer, unaware that she’d somehow leaned forwards to witness the scene.

Was the light disinfecting the coat?

Her attention was diverted when the man began to his shirt. She took a sharp intake of breath when he took it off, exposing planes of muscle upon muscle along the bronze surface. What her surprised her most was the scars and cuts littered upon his back. One cut seemed to be deeper than the others. It was a light flesh color, and before her thoughts could get any farther, the man quickly threw on a white pirate-sleeved shirt.

He left them ed as he sighed, slamming the cabinet shut. He was still, and so was Hera. She felt her heart racing when the man’s gaze cut through hers, his eyes devoid of any warmth. In a tantalizing slow manner, he stalked her to the bed, making her scoot backwards until her back collided with the headboard.

Never had she been so confused in her life. Her heart throbbed in fear, her slender fingers digging into her thigh as she anticipated his next movement. At the same time, her thighs rubbed together.

Upon closer look and under the dim lights of the room, his features illuminated like a painting that came to life. Underneath a strong pair of brows laid the fiercest and coldest eyes she’d ever seen. His lips, full, pink and plump, was set in a held back frown. Hera’s breathing stuttered as he stepped closer. Her hold on the sheets grew tighter when he fashioned a dagger out of nowhere, and that’s when Hera’s absolute terror kicked in.

“Who—” she began, but coughed when she realized was dry. Even talking was such a difficulty her eyes watered. “Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he raised a brow, and Hera’s heartbeat grew louder. His voice was deep, golden like his skin, elegant like his draperies, yet threatening like his entire presence. Hera shivered – both from fear and unwanted desire. She couldn’t breathe in his presence for all the good and ed up reasons. It got worse when he got closer, the intoxicating scent of his spicy perfume washing over her. “Are you a Jumper?”

“A what?”

“Jumpers,” he repeated, twirling the edge of his dagger with the tip of his finger. Even his hands were beautiful. They were veiny, and his fingers were long and masculine. Hera looked away from his curious yet wary gaze, opting to stare at her shoulder instead. “Or as your people used to call it, time travelers. I’ve heard all kinds of myths about Jumpers, but I never thought them true.”

Hera swallowed audibly when the spot next to her dipped with his weight. “I-I’m not. I’m not a Jumper.”

“Then how did you get here?” he growled, the reverberation of it dominating and deep within his chest. Hera shut her eyes in belief he wouldn’t see her if she tried hard enough to believe she could be invisible. “You are not from our time. You’re from the Old Earth, so unless you tell me everything, I see no reason to hold back from executing you right this moment.”

“It was an accident,” she whispered, her words cracking when she felt the cold tip of the weapon press slide down her jaw. “Believe me, I never meant to come here,” she pleaded, unconsciously stretching her neck out to him – unaware that the man was bewitched by the sight of her veins against her pale skin. “Please, I need to go back. I need to go home. My father awaits me there, he needs my help.”

“What makes you think you have the right to ask me of such? You are from the ancient kind. I do not recognize you as one of my own.”

Mustering the courage, Hera said, “Who are you?”

The man didn’t respond. In a flash, the chilly bite of his dagger was gone. Hera opened her eyes, staring in confusion when the man was suddenly at the other side of the room, breathing heavily. His brows were knotted, forehead scrunched in confusion. His dagger was sheathed away, leaving nothing but the bulge of his arms crossed on top of his chest.

Hera felt like she was a prey under his animalistic gaze – one that held a dark intent behind it.

“I…Where am I?”

His jaw ticked, “You are in Soarta – the city of the Sky People.”

“Sky People?” she rasped breathlessly, looking up at him with wide eyes. Her voice fell silent, too silent as her gaze dropped down to her lap. So she really was here. She’d left home, unwilling crossed the Beyond the Boundary, and now she was here – in the advanced city of the Sky People, stuck in a dark room with a man who she couldn’t trust. It confused her, multiple theories crowding her head to the point of a headache. Hera clutched her skull, “You’re real?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

If they were real, then something drastic must’ve happened in the past for them to reach this state. In a state of panic, Hera braved to look him in the eye. “What…what exactly is your era? What happened to my world? Was it because of the war?”

“You ask too much questions,” he sneered, before humming to himself. She instantly hated how his face morphed into anger and into nonchalance, preventing her from being able to read him. In the next moment, he wore a blank face. “Though I suppose it is a good thing you are curious – that is a sign of intelligence.”

Hera scoffed. Just who was this guy? “Listen, I don’t know who you are and I don’t care what you do, but I need to go home. Surely there’s a way I can go back. I-I could rebuild my father’s machine if you help me get my hands on tools a-and materials—”

“No.”

“No what?”

“It is impossible,” he gritted his teeth, “We can travel light years and venture into outer space, but to travel through time?” he shook his head, already making his way to the door. He was putting an end to a conversation that Hera hadn’t even begun. “Unless you are a Jumper, such activity would be impossible.”

Hera didn’t know what came over herself. Maybe it was the fact she remembered her father’s mortified face when the explosion happened, or maybe it was because she knew Soarta was the consequence of a tragic past. If she could just find out what happened and go back home, she’d be right on time to save the world!

She leapt out of bed, clutching his bicep to stop him from leaving. “It’s not impossible! I’m living proof that it can happen!” she tugged his sleeve, regretting it afterwards.

The man turned his head to her in a slow, threatening manner. His nostrils fumed when he saw her nimble hands wrapped around his bicep, to which she quickly retracted. Still, it was too late. The neck in his veins popped and he looked like a second away from letting loose. He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose to calm himself.

“Listen closely to me,” he began once he’d regained his breath. However, when his eyes opened, Hera ducked her head down. It wasn’t just anger. Hatred seeped between those brown eyes – a hatred that she’d never witnessed before. It was the kind that killed, that never forgave, and most of all, it was the hatred that destroyed. “Soarta is unlike your world. Whatever you think you know, whoever you once held dear to your heart, none of those matter here. You are in the future, and you cannot go back to the past. It has never happened before. An anomaly like you is merely a unquantifiable part of an equation, an equation that has been unsolved ever since the birth of the Sky People. You cannot go back.”

“I can make a machine that will allow me to travel through time. That’s how I got here. All I would need would be the proper equipment. I do not even require your assistance.”

“You?” he echoed with a sarcastic laugh, “A Pure Human from Ancient Earth, capable of building a machine to cut through time?” He seemed to find pure amusement in her words, as he shook his head to himself, wisps of blond hair cascading over his eyes. “It seems to me you are not as healed as I believed you to be. But do not fret – I shall have Doctor Baeri and even Lady Nadia assist you,” he clicked his tongue, turning on his heels. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got matters to attend to.”

“Wait!” she called out after him. Curse him and his long legs, she had to run just to keep up. Hera didn’t care anymore that she risked her dignity by begging. She simply had no choice. “Please, I need to go back! I don’t belong here!”

“Pure Human,” he stopped in his tracks, whirling around. Hera skidded in her spot to make sure she didn’t bump into him. At this point, she didn’t want to go too far to test his patience. “I am well aware you do not belong here, but unless you want to die, I suggest you do not leave my chambers. Do you understand?”

Hera scowled.

She was more than aware of that tone. He belittled her, held malice in his words, with contempt and even disgust. She’d heard of it from her colleagues that she knew when people tried to break down. He was no different. Soartian Man or not – they were no different. They were arrogant, and they looked down on her, treated her like a child who didn’t know which way to go.

Hera hated it. No, she despised it.

Something snapped in her. The man must’ve seen the change in her as well. He stood up taller, eyes guarded when Hera’s burning anger radiated off of her in sweeping waves. She would let no one treat her like that. “Don’t talk me as if I’m a fool.”

“People from your time are fools,” he mocked, regarding her poor form up and down. The sides of his lips turned up, face written with displease. “You cannot prove to me otherwise.”

“If I’m nothing but a fool, then why do you care if I die?”

“I do not care about anyone, Pure Human,” he raised one shoulder heartlessly, “But I did save your life. You should at least repay me by treasuring the second chance of life I have offered you,” he raised his head high, an action she found so arrogant. She wanted nothing more than to rip off the self-assured aura he carried with him. “You are not safe anywhere. The moment you step out of this holding, people will rip you apart. Soarta is not your home, and the Sky People will not take lightly to Jumpers. The fact that I have taken under my wing already puts me in peril, so be quiet and stay put.”

Hera was taken aback.

Saving her endangered him? Then why bother saving her in the first place?

She was at a loss for words. “How…”

“I will come back,” he stated, “Stay here. Do not attempt to go anywhere. And never open the door if one of the servants knocks. They will assume I am conducting business and leave you be.”

The man was about to leave when Hera took a step forward. She whimpered when a sharp pain travelled down her spine before it lulled just as fast as it came. “Wait,” she said, her hands caressing her figure inside the shirt. “My…my body. What have you done to it? I don’t feel the same.”

“You shall be able to get back to your normal state in a few hours. Dr. Baeri’s corrective surgery assures your health.”

“Corrective surgery?” she repeated in disbelief, “For what?”

“You would not have survived the extreme environment of Soarta,” he began, “With a weak, ancient Pure Human body like yours, you’d have died in mere seconds. Dr. Baeri constructed an AI spine to help you walk, along with an internal oxygen pump to stabilize your breathing. And this bracelet,” his warm hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her closer to him until they nearly collided noses. Hera stopped breathing at the proximity, blinking up at him under her lashes.

“This brands you as mine,” he whispered, although the soft words were still threatening. Before she could blink, he had distanced himself from her, struggling to hide what looked like mortification. He rubbed his own hands with a frown, pointedly averting her gaze. As he walked to the door, he gave one last dark look. “Make yourself at home. You cannot go back to where you came from anymore.”

Hera moved to protest, but in a wisp of air, he was gone. She was left staring into empty space, with not even the slightest trace of his presence except his scent.

Once he was gone, Hera released a breath she didn’t notice she’d been holding. Her heart still throbbed dramatically in her ribcage. She placed her palm over the organ, patting it as if to lull it to calm down. It didn’t. The image of him looking broken – eyes holding so much fear that he seemed paralyzed with it – burned in her mind.

Hera rubbed her wrist from where he touched her.

She’d seen that sort of terror before, one that scorched through one’s soul until it left them on the brink of insanity. She knew, because it was the same horror her Father wore when her mother left. It was the face of regret, of terror, of utter helplessness – the one worn in moments where it was too late to change everything.

▼△▼

Hera busied herself in her solitude. There was no point in moping around over the fact she’d been transported into a new world, or wracking her head to figure out what happened to the man. She didn’t even know who he was, not even his name.

She knew though, that he was quite adamant to make her stay. Hera would rather break her bones than not come back home. Surely, there had to be a way out of here. If she wished to return to her world, she had to act quickly before he came back. He was a difficult man to read. He was too guarded, cautious, yet somehow nearly on the edge of losing his composure that Hera didn’t want to try.

For now, she needed to come back home.

But first, she had to have a firm grasp on her surroundings. She was fascinated to see that not much had changed in the advanced city. The man’s house was kept clean to the point his black marble floors sparkled, her reflection well seen below. It was odd, however, that the rest of the place seemed to be a little big for a lone man like him.

Clearly, he was of power – one she didn’t want to figure out the extent of.

Hera sauntered to the living room. Like everything else, it was a spacious hall, with a silver chandelier coated in diamonds. It sparkled as it rotated from its holding, adding to the wisps of glitter that sparkled the room. His television seemed more like a theater, a huge black screen taking up an entirety of his wall. There were no remotes, no buttons, no anything.

She figured that in their times they didn’t really need one. She quickly moved to the dining room, stopping in awe. Similar to his chambers, the dining room had floor to ceiling length glass windows. Hera walked all the way to the windows, gasping in disbelief as she pressed a hand against it. A small beep echoed in the background and before she knew it, the windows turned completely white.

Hera stepped back. Hesitantly, she tapped the glass again, a small laugh bubbling through her lips when the view of the city came back.

She simply had no words. For so long, she’d disregarded the idea of the Sky People, but this city, Soarta, it was beyond her imagination. The skies were a dark blue with not a single star to be seen, but she didn’t need to see stars when the buildings and towers glimmered. The entire city glowed. Buildings of complex shapes and even spiral architectures before it spiked up towards the sky stood in the middle of it, the sides of it criss-crossed with radiant cyan lights.

From afar, the sky shifted to a darker hue of magenta. A huge capsule meteor-shaped object floated in the sky, streams of holographic fire blazing beyond. Even from this distance, she could hear its faint whirring. Small beams of light circulated around the tip of the dome-like thing, and Hera tilted her head to the side, mentally drawing a sketch of the city.

Their architecture was beyond her wildest dreams. They really were up in the sky, if the clouds covering the smaller buildings were not enough proof. She remembered the man telling her she’d not have survived the harsh environments of Soarta and how she had an internal oxygen pump.

Of course, she mused. They lived in a higher altitude, after all, it was bound that her body was not made to breathe properly in such an atmosphere. With widened eyes, she caressed her back under her shirt, trying to feel for any surgical scars. There was nothing.

Could it be another technological advancement?

She could hardly feel anything at all. She could breathe well and without struggle.

Hera turned away from the glass with a sigh. Rationally speaking, she knew she should panic, but where would that get her? If she didn’t compose herself, who knew what she would do? Besides, she was in a foreign city in a timeline she wasn’t familiar with. There was no use running away when she didn’t know exactly how this place worked. And the more she thought about it, the advancement of the city and such, she could make her machine.

She didn’t need the strange man’s help. Hera highly doubted he didn’t keep at least some building tools or a control room in a bachelor pad like this one. She moved stealthily as she twisted the silver knob leading to wherever. There were a lot of rooms and halls in his house that she felt small and lost. She had to try her best to find his control room and begin building her machine right away.

The door wouldn’t open. Hera grunted, twisting it harder, but to no avail. A small whir resonated behind her, “Sorry. You are not authorized to access anything beyond this point.”

Hera let out a small scream. Her back was pressed to the door, hands clutching against her poor heart. In front of her stood a holographic woman, or at least she assumed she was a woman. The figure was purely made of blue cells, standing just around her height and had no facial features, but her voice – although robotic – was soft and feminine.

She remembered Mackie.

“You’re an AI?”

The AI did a small bow, “Yes, I am the resident AI to ensure everything is maintained. Please, do not hesitate to ask me shall you require assistance.”

“What is your name?”

“Ilja.”

“Ilja,” she repeated, trying out the familiar name on her tongue. “That is a Russian name.”

The AI, Ilja, tipped her head to the side. “Ru-ssian?” she echoed slowly. Even without a face, Hera could see that the AI was confused, and she furrowed her brows. Why wouldn’t the AI know Russia? Did Russia still exist? If not, then that meant… No, Hera shook her head. They couldn’t have lost the war. Their weapons were far more advanced than other countries and their allies were strong and fierce.

Hera pursed her lips, watching the AI warily. “Yes, the country.”

“I am afraid I do not have Russia in my database. Would you like me to add it to my storage?”

Hera thought about it. What could’ve happened in Russia that it was wiped away from the database? Hera moved to Ilja’s side, her curious eyes trailing over the blue cells that imitated the