Veyra sprinted across the crimson sand, her cloak billowing behind her as the hum of engines grew louder.
She risked a glance over her shoulder—three skimmers, sleek and black, bearing the Gene Lords' sigil, were closing in fast. Their searchlights swept the dunes, and Veyra knew she had seconds before they spotted her.
She dove behind a jagged piece of wreckage, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. The gene-seed in her pack felt heavier, its warmth seeping through the fabric, almost alive.
She peeked out, her eyes narrowing as the skimmers landed. A squad of Gene Lord enforcers disembarked, their armor gleaming under Krynn's dying sun. They moved with precision, their rifles humming with energy.
At their center was a taller figure, his cloak billowing in the wind—a true Gene Lord, not just a soldier. Veyra had heard stories of their power: how they could rewrite a person's DNA with a thought, turning them into a weapon or a pile of ash. She'd never seen one up close, and she didn't want to start now.
The Gene Lord raised a hand, and the air shimmered.
Veyra felt a pressure in her skull, like a thousand needles pressing against her mind. Her vision swam, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. He was scanning for the gene-seed—she could feel it.
She clutched her pack tighter, her fingers brushing the orb. The warmth pulsed, and the pressure in her head eased. The gene-seed was protecting her, somehow.
"Spread out," the Gene Lord barked, his voice amplified by his helmet. "The seed is here. I can sense its echo."
Veyra's heart sank. She couldn't outrun them on foot. Her only chance was the canyon—a maze of tunnels and crevices where she'd hidden before. If she could make it there, she might lose them.
She waited until the enforcers turned away, then bolted, her legs burning as she sprinted across the open sand.
A shout rang out, followed by the whine of a plasma bolt. The shot grazed her shoulder, searing her cloak and sending her sprawling. She rolled down a dune, the gene-seed tumbling out of her pack.
It glowed brighter now, casting eerie shadows on the sand.
Veyra scrambled to grab it, but another bolt struck the ground nearby, forcing her to dive for cover.
The Gene Lord descended the dune, his cloak trailing behind him. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and Veyra felt the air grow heavy, as if gravity itself were bending to his will.
"You have something that belongs to us, child," he said, his voice a low hiss. "Give it to me, and I might let you live."
Veyra clutched the gene-seed, her mind racing. She didn't believe him—not for a second. The canyon was so close, but the open sand between her and safety felt like a death trap.
Her shoulder burned, but she ignored the pain, her eyes darting for an escape.
The Gene Lord's voice cut through the chaos, cold and commanding. "You cannot run, scavenger. The seed's power is not yours to wield."
Veyra ignored him, her legs pumping as she sprinted toward the canyon. The sand slowed her down, each step sinking deeper, but her determination kept her moving. The gene-seed's energy pulsed in her chest, urging her forward.
A third bolt struck the ground to her left, kicking up a cloud of sand. Veyra veered right, zigzagging to throw off their aim.
The Gene Lord began chanting, his voice low and rhythmic, like a spell. The air around her grew heavy, and her vision blurred. He was trying to slow her down, to trap her with his power.
Veyra gritted her teeth, pushing through the pressure. The canyon's edge was just ahead—a steep drop into a maze of tunnels.
She reached it and leaped, the wind rushing past her as she fell.
She hit a ledge halfway down, her knees buckling from the impact. Pain shot through her legs, but she scrambled into the nearest tunnel, the darkness swallowing her as the enforcers' shouts faded.