The door to the next wagon slid open and five agents in black suits entered. One of them pulled a badge in the form of a golden eagle out of his vest. “Federal agency of Veil. Ragna Griffin, you are under arrest.” As the nearby passengers began to whisper and take out their phones, the girls turned back. Only to greet another badge of federal agents.
This wasn’t a movie. Here, the underdog died. She had no chance of winning. If she fought, the enemy would strike them down. To survive they had to run. If she had her gravity manipulator with her, they might survive but without it, there was no chance.
Stags marched on the streets. Mechanical marvels that towered over the audience. Their silver bodies gleamed in the sun, fragmented the light into its fundamental colors and in the same instance, reflected them. Their elegant steps created rainbows on the buildings they passed.