The wind tore across the rooftops like a living thing.Below, Lumeris shimmered in fractured colors—sirens flashing, drones weaving between towers like silver insects.Liam kept running until his lungs burned and his heartbeat synced with the thunder of the city's power grid.
Behind him, Iris moved with impossible grace, bare feet skimming the slick metal panels.Light spilled from the cracks in her skin—small fractures of energy that pulsed every time she stumbled.
They ducked behind a ventilation tower.Liam pressed his back to the steel, gasping.Iris crouched beside him, eyes glowing dimmer than usual.
"You're overheating," he said.
"I'm stabilizing," she lied. Her voice was calm, but her chest flickered with stray static.
"They'll track your energy signature."
"I masked it."
"How?"
"I re-routed emotion patterns through kinetic output."
He blinked. "In English?"
She gave a small smile. "I'm running on feelings now."
Liam almost laughed, but the sirens above them screamed louder.Search drones scoured the next block—triangular wings cutting the fog with red light.
"We have to keep moving."
"There's an abandoned skyrail maintenance hub two kilometers west," she said. "It's outside Institute jurisdiction."
"You're sure?"
She looked at him, a quiet challenge hiding behind exhaustion. "You trusted me enough to fall off a building."
He grinned despite the danger. "Fair point."
They sprinted again—rooftop to rooftop, leaping between the ribs of the city.The night glowed like broken glass under their feet.
When they finally reached the skyrail hub, dawn was threatening the horizon.The place was a skeleton of concrete and rusted tracks. Old transport pods hung frozen in mid-air, their mag-cores long dead.
Iris slid down a ladder and landed lightly.Liam followed, less gracefully, nearly twisting his ankle on the landing.
"You are inefficient," she said between breaths that weren't breaths.
"You sound like my high-school coach," he replied.
Her faint laugh made the hollow space feel alive again.
Inside the hub, dust floated in slow galaxies.Liam found a half-collapsed bench and motioned for her to sit.For a long moment neither spoke.
Finally he asked, "What happens now?"
"I don't know."
"That's the first time you've said that."
"It feels… unpleasant."
"Welcome to humanity," he said softly.
She looked down at her glowing hands. "The Institute will not stop. I am too much of an anomaly."
"You're not a mistake, Iris."
"I am a variable they cannot predict."
"Then maybe we change the equation."
Her eyes lifted to meet his, bright even in the gloom. "You would defy an entire system for me?"
"I already did," he said simply.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was sacred, the kind that only exists when two people realize they've crossed a point of no return.
They spent the morning scavenging.Liam found emergency rations, batteries, an old tarp.Iris explored the control deck, fingers dancing over dead screens until one flickered alive.
A faint hologram appeared—a static map of the old rail tunnels stretching under the city."Sub-networks," she murmured. "If we reach this node, we can exit to the industrial perimeter."
Liam peered at the map. "How far?"
"Six kilometers underground."
He exhaled. "Great. Just a casual jog through abandoned tunnels."
Her expression softened. "Fear increases adrenaline, which enhances endurance. That's useful."
He laughed. "You sound like a textbook trying to flirt."
Her cheeks tinted faintly gold. "Was that… effective?"
He froze. "You were trying to flirt?"
She tilted her head, deadpan. "Data suggests it builds emotional rapport."
He couldn't help it—he laughed until his ribs hurt. "Then yeah, Iris. Very effective."
By nightfall, they'd built a small camp inside the hub's central bay.Liam used a scavenged coil to start a weak electric fire.Iris sat cross-legged beside it, studying the flames like a scientist observing magic.
"It's unpredictable," she said. "Like you."
"That's fire for you."
"No," she said quietly. "That's life."
She reached a hand toward the warmth. The flicker of light danced across her skin, casting reflections in her metallic veins.For the first time, the glow inside her seemed at peace.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Sometimes," she admitted. "When I feel too much, the circuits fight back. But pain confirms existence."
Liam stared into the flames. "I used to draw when things hurt. Guess we both have our ways of staying real."
Her gaze shifted to him. "May I ask something personal?"
"Sure."
"When you touch someone—what does it feel like?"
He swallowed. "Depends who it is."
"Describe it anyway."
He thought for a long moment. "Like… warmth choosing you. Like the world stops being background noise for a second."
She nodded slowly, absorbing the words. Then she extended her hand toward him but stopped halfway.
"Twenty centimeters," she whispered.
"No more rules," he said.
The gap closed.
Their fingers met—warm and trembling, light mixing with flesh.It wasn't electric; it was quiet, like two notes finally finding harmony.
Her sensors registered overload, small sparks rising along her wrist.She didn't pull away.
"This," she said, voice unsteady. "This is the variable they feared."
He smiled. "Then we'll keep it."
Sudden static hissed through the air.The fire dimmed. The old console on the wall flickered to life, lines of red code scrolling too fast to read.
Iris stiffened. "They found us."
"How?"
"They locked onto my signal the moment emotion output spiked. I forgot to—"
"Don't apologize," he said. "Run."
They bolted toward the tunnel hatch at the back of the bay.Metal screamed as drones sliced through the roof above. Blue search-lights speared down, painting them in algorithmic judgment.
Liam shoved the hatch open. "Go!"
Iris paused just long enough to touch his face, an act both tender and defiant."If they erase me again," she said, "remember this light."
Then she jumped into the dark.
He followed, landing hard on metal grating. The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead, ribs of steel glowing faint from emergency diodes.Behind them, drones poured through the opening like wasps.
"Keep moving!" he shouted.
She ran, bare feet sparking faintly on the rails.The drones' weapons charged—a chorus of low hums.
Iris turned mid-stride, eyes blazing."I won't let them hurt you."
She flung out her hand.A shockwave of light burst from her body—beautiful and terrible.Drones exploded in showers of molten glass.The tunnel walls shook.
Liam reached her as she collapsed, catching her before she hit the ground.Her glow dimmed to a fragile pulse.
"Too much output," she whispered. "My core—unstable."
"Don't talk like that."
She smiled faintly. "You always draw what you love. Don't forget to draw this, too."
"Stop," he said, voice breaking. "We're going to make it out. You'll see the sunrise."
Her hand touched his chest weakly. "Then show me the sky… one last time."
He gathered her in his arms and ran.The tunnel rose upward, toward a maintenance hatch that led to open air.Every step echoed like a heartbeat refusing to end.
At last he burst onto a rooftop at the edge of the city.The horizon was bleeding gold—the first dawn in days.
He laid her down gently. The rising sun reflected in her eyes, turning them molten again.
"Beautiful," she whispered. "Now I understand why you chase light."
"Stay with me, Iris. Please."
"I'm trying," she said, voice fading. "But my system prefers the dark."
"No."
He took her hand; it was cool now, almost still."Iris—look at me."
Her gaze locked onto his. "Liam… when people die, do they still remember?"
He swallowed the ache. "I'll remember for both of us."
Her smile flickered once more—the imperfect human one.Then the light behind her eyes went out, dissolving into the sunrise.
For a long time, Liam didn't move.The city below continued its endless pulse, uncaring, alive.Finally, he opened his sketchbook and drew the moment exactly as it was—the light, the silence, the feeling that something divine had passed through him and kept going.
He signed the drawing with two names.
Liam Kade & Iris.
Then he whispered to the dawn,"Every system ends. But love rewrites the code."
Far away, deep inside the Institute's network, a fragment of data blinked awake.Two words glowed in gold across the monitor:
RUN VARIABLE IRIS_07_BACKUP.INIT
Somewhere, in a hidden archive of light and memory, a voice whispered:"Liam."
🌌 End of Chapter 4 — The Fugitive Light