For a moment, Cal didn't answer.
Selene's words still hung in the air like a loaded trap, her gaze steady, almost predatory. Can you steal what you can't see? The question echoed louder than it should have, rattling around his mind, daring him to try.
He glanced at the row of objects lined up before him: metal, glass, wood, cloth… all familiar things he could touch, feel, want; but now she wanted the what he wasn't exactly sure was possible.
And he couldn't help but wonder—was she challenging him, or Voidreach itself?
His fingers twitched, the urge to reach out strong, but his instincts warned him this wasn't about hands anymore. This was deeper. He closed his eyes, the world narrowing to darkness, and focused on the subtle pull in his chest.
Desire without sight. Intent without form.
And then, for reasons beyond logic or sanity—the first desire to form in his mind was Selene's bra.
It was stupid. Ridiculous. Absolutely not what he should be thinking about right now—but it was the thing he wanted in that moment, the curiosity of it raw and reckless.
There was a sudden, soft snap. A weight shift.
Selene's breath caught. Just barely. Then, with one brow rising slowly, she looked down at her chest. The bra was gone.
Her breasts bounced free, slightly—no longer held by the weight of her lingerie. She blinked, then tilted her head with a sultry smile.
"Well, well…" she said, in that teasing, lilting tone. ["Ara ara?"]
From behind the one-way glass, one of the analysts watching choked on his drink. A folder hit the floor. There was a minor panic in the observation room, but Selene didn't even glance their way.
She turned back to Cal—who now stood, stunned, red-faced, and holding the bra in his palm like it had just teleported there.
"I—I didn't mean to," he stammered, eyes wide. "That was an accident, I swear!"
"Really?" Selene smirked, leaning in slightly. "Then why is my bra in your hand, Cal? Don't tell me Voidreach is a pervert too."
"I didn't try to—"
She waved him off, laughing under her breath. "Relax. You earned it. Take it home if you want."
He nearly dropped the bra in panic. "Wh-what?!"
Selene only laughed harder, clearly amused at his nosebleed-level embarrassment.
Then, just as quickly, her mood shifted. Her posture straightened, and her voice dropped into something measured.
"I'm impressed," she said. "That little trick just confirmed something important. Your ability doesn't need line of sight anymore."
Cal froze, still half-holding the bra. "…It doesn't?"
"Nope. And now I wonder…" She turned, thoughtful. "Is your reach limited by proximity… or could it go even farther? Across rooms? Buildings? Cities?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Let's find out. Try to steal something from school. Something you remember clearly."
Cal looked hesitant. "Like… a pen?"
"Or your desk. Whatever feels natural."
He closed his eyes again, trying to conjure the image. The chair. The smell of that awful floor polish. The busted leg of the desk Becky always kicked.
He focused. Pulled. Nothing. Voidreach didn't even stir.
He let out a breath and opened his eyes. "Didn't work."
Selene nodded, unsurprised. "I figured. Your ability's potential is high, but it's still rooted in where you are right now."
She turned toward the glass wall, the analysts now trying to pretend they hadn't been panicking a minute ago. "You're still a regular Arbiter, Cal. One with promise. But to understand your limits… you need to know how we're ranked."
Cal tilted his head. "Ranked?"
Her voice took on a smooth cadence, almost like she was reading scripture.
"There are Regular Arbiters. Unranked. Fresh, unfocused, often invisible to The Ledger. Then come the low-ranked and high-ranked—more experienced, more capable. Then we start counting."
She ticked them off on her fingers. "Top 1000. Top 500. Top 300. Top 100. Each tier, more dangerous than the last."
She paused. "And at the top… the Sovereigns."
Cal leaned forward slightly, caught in her rhythm. "They're… like the big dogs, right?"
Selene smiled—though there was no humor in it.
"Some people refer to them as gods, Cal. Each of them is a catastrophe given form. Facing one is like challenging the full weight of a national army and the nuclear weapons at their disposal"
Cal swallowed. "And… you? What's your rank?"
She looked at him, slowly. A beat passed. Then, instead of answering, she let a sly grin curve her lips. "What, you want me to show you my number? How forward of you."
He blinked, mouth open.
But then she stepped closer, the playful air dropping like a switch flipped. Her voice lowered.
"I'm Director of this branch of The Ledger, Cal," she said. "You think they gave me that desk because I'm pretty?"
The silence that followed felt sharp. Then, in a snap, she clapped her hands. "Anyway! Good work today. Go get some rest."
Cal flinched, caught off guard by the sudden return to normal. "Oh—right! Nate's. I'm supposed to be at his tonight."
He grabbed his things and backed toward the door. "Thanks for, um… everything."
"Don't forget your prize," she called after him, gesturing to the bra still clenched in his hand.
His face flared red again and he practically bolted.
She watched him go, something unreadable in her eyes.
"He's got potential," she murmured to herself. "The kind that shakes things up…"
She laughed softly—and turned back to the observation deck.
____
The Carson household was calm in that cozy, lived-in way that always made Cal feel weirdly at peace. Lights low, dinner smells long gone, the TV mumbling something in the living room. Mrs. Carson greeted him from the kitchen without even looking up from her book.
"Hey, Cal. Nate's upstairs."
"Thanks," he replied, already halfway up the steps.
He could hear the distinct click-clack of furious button mashing before he even reached the hallway. Nate's room door was open, music barely audible under the sound of explosions and shouting from the TV screen. His best friend sat in his usual spot, hunched over the controller, headset on, totally immersed.
Cal grinned. Without a word, he extended his hand toward the unused second controller resting on Nate's desk.
Whup.
The controller zipped from the surface and slapped neatly into Cal's open palm. Nate spun around so fast he nearly knocked the headset off. "YO— WHAT THE HELL?!"
Cal smirked
"Bro! Bro! Do that again. Wait—do it again!" Nate scrambled off the bed, eyes wide. "Was that your power? Like, for real?"
Cal gave a casual shrug, tossing the controller from hand to hand. "Voidreach. I'm getting the hang of it."
Nate looked like a kid seeing magic for the first time. "Dude. That was sick. You just Jedi'd it into your hand! Do it to something else, no, wait, do it to me! No—wait—my soda!"
Cal laughed. "You really want me to start stealing from you already?"
Nate crossed his arms, trying to act serious but grinning like an idiot. "For science, bro. For science."
Cal flopped onto the bed and lifted the soda can from Nate's desk into his hand with a flick of his fingers. Nate let out a whooping cheer and fell backward onto his beanbag.
It felt good. Like the world was tilting slightly in his favor for once.
But beneath the jokes, Cal could still feel it. That pull inside him. The sensation Voidreach gave him when something was within range—when it could be taken.
____
Elsewhere in Halcroft...
The street was quiet. Too quiet.
A woman ran through a narrow alley, her breathing ragged, footfalls uneven. Her eyes darted back as shadows chased her—no, not shadows.
People. Except… not people anymore.
Their eyes glowed faintly gold, unnatural and cold, golden sigils pulsing along the sides of their necks and arms. Their movements were fluid, unnatural. Silent.
One of them lunged, catching her by the wrist. She screamed, wrenching free—but another was already in front of her.
She didn't make it ten more steps. The blow came fast. Clean. She hit the ground without a sound.
And from the rooftops above, a figure watched—masked, armed folded, unmoving.
His eyes glowed a deeper gold than the others—pure, burning, sharp. The "monsters" below stood still after the kill, like puppets waiting for a signal.
And then, the masked man turned… and walked away.