DIVISION 52 - BOOK II

CHAPTER LIII

M A K A Y L A

This is what I know.

I know Alex killed her father at a young age. I know she never speaks of her mother. And now I know where all the pieces existed in one place before she trained herself to be the most powerful ruler in the Underworld.

As the water ran over my skin I watched the warm gold dangle from my neck.

Years of dirt and darkness bled off it along with the rest of the dust from my skin. The steam only made it gleam more. It was barely scratched. Barely worn. As if it had only seen months of use before its wearer abandoned it.

I pinched it in my fingers and scanned the rare metal. Gold like her eyes.

Did her mother have the same trait? I knew pigments started diverging when people opted for iris modifications centuries ago. It was a sign of class divide. Upper sector dwellers never modified their appearances. They wanted pure genetics. Untainted.

To me they were the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. Natural or otherwise.

I shut the water off and dropped the ring back to my neck. I pulled a towel through my hair and dried my body slowly. There was much I wanted to ask the woman on the other side. But we still had an edge of something between us. Doubt. Perhaps hesitancy. I didn't want it but it existed. But Alex knew how to separate her feelings when it came to giving me space–she would cross the other side of the city if I hinted at it.

I pulled a t-shirt over my head and a pair of soft sweats that hugged my legs.

The mirror dehumidified automatically and showed my blue eyes back to me. All the dark lines under my eyes and blood was gone. My skin looked more human again. I ran my fingers through my hair before deciding to leave it loose down my back.

Just talk. There is nothing wrong with talking. Alone. Without Proximo's crude remarks to hide behind.

I pushed off the cool stone counter and the door slid open.

Alex was toying with a hologram on the low table. Her hood was gone and every other piece of clothing that made her Scorpion. Now she was Alex with a hand propped under her chin as she appraised old looking pieces of furniture.

Her eyes met mine and she swiped it away quickly.

"Makayla–"

"You don't have to stop." I answered easily, taking a seat across the table and placing my legs over the arm. She regarded my easy posture a moment before her eyes ventured back to her wrist and she drew up a 3D image of a very old clock.

"That is... different." I noted, setting my feet down and scanning the image closely.

She pinched the air and rotated the ornate clock for me to see the face.

"A grandfather clock." She said with the wistful twist of her lips.

"What is the box for?" I probed, noting the carving down the long wooden frame.

"It's like a machine. Nothing digital. They run themselves." Alex answered, before flicking a hand to the next item of the past.

I flinched.

"Is that armour?"

She grinned this time and it warmed my entire body.

"Yes. A replica of one when weapons were much more crude." Her eyes went past the hologram of the shining suit of armour and met my eyes, "–the sort of weapons you favour."