FLAMES OF FURY

Chapter 1: Dim Sum and the JumpMasters

“Home is where gravity grounds me. When I jump, code is all that binds me—one glitch, and I’m history.” —Shifu-JumpMaster

South Harbour breathes neon, exhales data-streams that ripple like oil on water. Usually, the layers stay separate. Usually, the digital dimension knows its place. But the signals bleed. The boundaries flicker. And sometimes, gravity isn’t the only thing you can fall through. South-Harbour Megapolis, Pearl Delta. The sky threw the biggest party the city had ever seen. Streaks of astral light spiraled like wild brushstrokes, chasing each other across the night. The promenade glowed under the fireworks—green pulses, red blooms, yellow waves lighting the bobbing junks below. Even the skyline joined in, neon towers flashing approval like VIP guests at a cosmic rave. Romantic? Absolutely. Qixi was no fable.

Tao gripped the roses and chocolate. His thumb hovered over WeChat, ready to scroll or vanish. TikTok? Loaded. She was worth it. He said it again. Louder inside his head. His heart agreed—a WeChat tingle in his pocket. He peeked—brave, shaky.

Did she see it…Is that a Magpie, that’s perfect?

Then they came rapid-fire—the sound cracked through his ribs like a firework going off sideways. She’d seen it. The message. Three hearts. Three. She sent three. His breath stalled. Time warped. His smile broke out too fast, cheeks flaring scarlet. No take-backs.

Then—friends. Her friends. The wrong kind of entourage.

“Throw us the chocolates, fool!”

“Loser alert!”

Laughter slapped him sideways. One held up her phone. His message, his face—zoomed in and paraded around. She lunged to grab it. Too late.

Tao didn’t speak. His jaw did the talking, locked shut. His fingers twitched. Something burned behind his eyes. A wall of traffic tore by, honking and roaring like the city knew how badly he wanted to vanish. When it cleared—so had they.

A new ping lit the screen: Planted. Her phone’s active.

“And the mark—is he there?”

“The loser? Yeah, he’s none the wiser,” one of the marauding teens snickered.

“Tao?”

TingTing’s voice, sharp and cutting through the leftover shame. He blinked. Still standing there. Roses crushed. Chocolates split open on the pavement like a crime scene.

“What’s the ruckus?” she asked, eyes darting to the mess.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

She didn’t wait for a better lie. “We’ve got things to do. Come on. You can cry about your love life after we survive this.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward.

All around them, the crowd shifted—tourists, street performers, bored locals all paused to gawk at the spectacle overhead. And in that gaping silence—they arrived. Not from the sky, but from somewhere deeper. Opposites. Coats black as wet ink. Hats low. Glasses darker than midnight. Walking against the tide. Intent clear. Destruction implied.

“Find them!” Trident’s voice cracked like thunder through static. “That boy’s coding—get it before he remembers what he is!”

They pushed through the throng. Not walking—cutting.

“There!” one pointed. “Tag him!”

From the opposite end, Huawei Shifu vanguards snapped into action—silent, fast, anticipatory. Firewalls flared, slamming into the ground like lightning strikes. Sparks danced. The trench coats scattered—but not before the tag was fired. It hit. And it stuck. Elsewhere, in a thousand homes and high-rises, kids watched the sky change colors. They missed the glitch in the code. The rewrite under their noses.

On the rooftop above, Tao and TingTing moved. Not kids. Not anymore. Their boards sliced across metal rails and stair sets. Feet finding balance by instinct. Comms lit up in flashes. Data lines drifted across their visors. Sync perfect.

“Diagnostics done?” TingTing snapped, not looking back. “You better not screw this.”

“Relax,” Tao muttered, cracking his fingers. “Trajectory’s heavyweight champion of the galaxies. I’m good. I’ve got this. I’m gonna be the man today.”

“Cool. I’ll bring the belt when you land—and ice if your tuck and roll is off.”

Her glance shifted—quick, subtle—toward the trench coats below.

Tao didn’t notice. Not fully. He was too busy pulling in air. This was his jump. The one that counted. He crouched. Launched. And for a second—he flew.

Then… the static. The twitch. Something blinked behind his eyes. His arc dipped. Too sharp. The landing didn’t happen. He crashed. Board went one way. Tao, the other. He hit hard. Gasps from the edge. A few chuckles. One face caught his eye. Not scorn. A smile. Cold. Familiar. Her. Still holding the phone. But now surrounded. Not friends—figures. Watching. Waiting.

Something dark shimmered between them, like oil on water. His stomach turned. Used. Played. Betrayed.

His vision warped. Signs bled glyphs. Letters peeled. A whisper scratched behind his eardrum:

AFFIRM FIREWALL DEACT TAG CONFIRM YOU HAVE BEEN MARKED, DESIGNATION: COMPROMISED …MAUI OUT! OK, where are they, come on come on, where are they…what’s going on where are the mission orders? What standby, standby for what…oh..TingTing…

Tao froze. No, not froze—he felt it. Felt them—near, watching, creeping in sideways through the glitch. Oblivious people shuffled past. But they weren’t here for them. They were here for him.

That smile again—it cut deep.

“I loved the roses,” she said.

Then her hand moved—fast, furious, cutting through the air. Tao dropped. He couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move. Just the whine of data screaming across his neurons.

Then—impact. Not from her. From above. Boom. Concrete cracked.

A figure landed—taller, broader, eyes lit like binary comets.

“Neptune,” she hissed.

He didn’t answer. Just reached down and hauled Tao up like luggage.

TingTing broke free from a clash of outliers. She spun, eyes wide. Saw them. Saw Tao—slumped, dragged.

“Tao!”

Too far. The girl jumped, dragging him with her. Neptune followed, crashing off the edge.

TingTing ran. Hit the rooftop lip just in time to see them hit the water—hard. No grace. No plan. Desperate.

Below, the girl fought to keep them both afloat. Neptune barely needed to move—he churned through water like it owed him rent. A junk boat appeared from the shadows. Ghostly. Waiting. Hands reached. Hauled them in.

Then—Gone. No motor. No lights. No ripples. Just water. And silence.

TingTing stood alone at the rooftop edge. Salt and ozone in her nose. Her brother vanished. Her mission flipped on its head.

Nothing was what it looked like. Not anymore.

The junk rocked once, then again—heavier this time. Tao looked up. A shadow landed on the upper deck with a thud that didn’t echo. Boots. Fast. Sure. Familiar.

A shape dropped down the ladder. Tactical gear. Wrist module glowing. Hair pulled back like she meant business.

TingTing.

She didn’t speak. She moved straight through the cramped deck like it owed her answers.

“Still breathing?” she asked, eyes flicking from Tao to Blossom.

Tao blinked. “How did you—”

“Two junks were tailing yours from the harbour. One decoy, one with me. You weren’t the only moving piece in this game.” She tossed a soaked WeChat slate onto the deck. “Your crash was noisy. And you’re tagged. Which means they’re coming.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “I found you. So will they.”

The junk lurched again. Steel plates groaned overhead as the ballast tanks kicked in. They were going under. TingTing unfolded a softscreen, tactical overlays lighting up the dim hold. Tao tried to speak. Didn’t. His jaw just clenched.

TingTing pointed at Blossom. “And you—whatever mission brought you here—it’s changed. He’s compromised. That makes both of you a risk.”

Blossom’s jaw twitched, but she didn’t break eye contact.

TingTing narrowed her gaze. “This isn’t another Trojan Bloom, is it?”

Blossom didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. That was enough.

“I stay with him,” she said.

TingTing stared for a beat. Then gave a sharp nod—like it was tactical, not personal. “Fine. Then we crash together. But make no mistake: no improv. The Jump stays off the table. The tag stays lit. We ride the profile Trident thinks we are.”

The deck groaned as they submerged deeper. Pressure shifted. Tao didn’t speak. Blossom didn’t move. Neither of them blinked. And in the silence, the countdown began.

The deck groaned again beneath them. Tao turned to Blossom, eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”

She stared at him. Unblinking. Slap. Sharp. No warning.

Before he could even flinch—she kissed him. Fast. Fierce. All heat and confusion.

Then—shove. He stumbled back. “Wait, I—”

Crack. Her fist hit him square in the jaw. He dropped to one knee, blinking.

“You don’t get to ask that,” she said, her voice low and shaking. “Not now.” She spun, storming off toward the far side of the junk, fists clenched.

Tao watched her go, jaw open, still processing. He turned slowly to TingTing. “What—was that?”

She stared him down. Hard. “Are you kidding me, Tao?”

“What? What did I do wrong?”

TingTing shook her head and turned away. “Boys.”

Just then—the strobe light lit the galley red. A siren blared, low and pulsing, followed by the sound of boots pounding across the upper deck. The crew moved fast—no shouts, just tight commands and tighter eyes. Lockdown mode.

From the bridge, the captain’s voice rang out: “Quick—hit the tubes! I’ll fire you all out—go!”

Panels slid open near the hull. Pod hatches blinked green, already pre-pressurized. Tao turned to TingTing. She was already moving. Blossom was gone—headed for launch.

“Wait—TUBES?!”

“Go!” TingTing barked. “You wanted a crash landing? This is it!”

They were running for the tubes. Then—impact. Everyone slammed into the walls—then the ceiling—then crashed back to the deck like ragdolls in a blender.

“Quick!” the captain shouted over the alarm. “I can’t stay here—someone’s dropping depth charges!”

Another explosion rocked the junk. Wood splintered. Bolts sheared.

The captain yelled again— “Firing now!”

Thoom-THOOM! The launch pods fired, one by one—but even as they blasted out, a second barrage struck. Blam! Tao, TingTing, Blossom—gone. Blasted from the hull straight into chaos.

Turbulence. Black water. No bearings. No sound.

Blossom spun out of control, her gear gone—suit torn, visor cracked. TingTing was swept away into the murk, swallowed in seconds. Tao tumbled—head rattled, lungs seizing. He blinked hard. Focus. Focus. His head snapped side to side. Where are they? Where are they?!

There. Blossom. Suspended in the dark. Not moving. He swam. Kicked hard. Got to her. Grabbed her suit. No oxygen. Her tank was gone. He pulled her close, sealed his mouth over hers—breathed straight from his lungs. One gasp. Another.

Her eyes shot open, wild. She thrashed—panicked. He held on. “It’s me!” Bubbles swirled. Her fingers clawed at his vest.

Then—a metal hull screamed toward them through the water. Tao’s eyes widened. Too fast. No way out.

WHAM— TingTing shot in from the side like a torpedo, yanking both Tao and Blossom hard left. They slammed behind the drifting wreckage of a broken drone just as something massive tore past—gone in a blink, vanishing into the depths. The blast had missed them by seconds.

Tao coughed hard into his rebreather. Blossom clung to his arm. TingTing turned, eyes wide, visor pulsing red. Her fingers flew to Blossom’s comm unit—cracked. She checked the tank gauge.

Blossom shook her head, already gasping. She pointed frantically—thumb to throat. No air.

Then Tao saw it. Her tank—torn loose, caught in the current—vanishing fast. He kicked hard. Reached out. Grabbed it. It didn’t budge. Blossom and TingTing flanked him, nodding in sync. They signaled—on three. Together, they pulled. The tank snapped free. Air rushed out, bubbles shooting past them, caught in a deadly whirlpool. Their world twisted swirling violently. The vortex snapped them backward. Wreckage spun with them—metal shards, torn cables, tangled shadows tumbling fast and out of control.

Tao’s mask rattled. He couldn’t tell which way was up. Then—there. Through the blur, a flicker of light. A drone, spinning erratically, its lights flickering. And something else. Tao’s heart slammed against his ribs. In the wreckage, he saw it—a warhead. Scuffed. Dented. But unmistakably armed. Its surface shimmered faintly, dangerously unstable.

Tao pointed, tracing the blast radius, then tapped his chest. He would do it. He needed the Jump. There was no other way. TingTing shook her head, violently—No. Blossom waved him off—Stop! In a spin, he saw them, then gave a single shrug—grim, resolved. Then he moved.

He shot forward, riding the vortex’s edge. As he passed Blossom, he ripped the tank cleanly off her back. Her momentum launched her faster—head over heels—shocked, air hissing from the torn connection. Tao didn’t stop. He waited for alignment, then drove the tank forward, slamming it into the warhead. Nothing. Another spin. He waited. There—its light blinked. He struck again—missed. Adjusted. Slammed. Bang. Still nothing. Blossom tore off her mask, screaming something lost in the rising stream of bubbles. Her eyes begged him—What the?!

Then—BOOM. The water convulsed. Light exploded all around them. Heat. Force. Immense pressure. Everything went white.

Flash. Concrete. Skyline. Air.

He was airborne—freefall, hover-drop, tumbling forward through a digital dimension that didn’t care about form or control. Below, the harbor’s high-rise sentinel punched through clouds over the Delta, a skyline rushing up to meet him. I’m alive. That was his first thought. Not the mission. Not the girls. Not even the explosion. Just—I made it. And for a second, that felt like everything.

Then it hit him—oh no. Oh no no no— the spin tilted. His stomach dropped. Where were they? Where was TingTing—Blossom—the girls? Did they Jump? Were they behind him? Or had he just bailed alone?

Panic surged. I jumped too early. No—too late? I didn’t even mean to Jump. It wasn’t supposed to—

Gravity didn’t care. It grabbed him by the collar, spun him sideways, and hurled him home. His legs flipped over his head, arms pin-wheeling through static air. His mouth opened, but the scream never made it out.

Brace. BRACE—

Crash. Tiles. Concrete. A thud that rattled through his spine and into his teeth. He landed hard on his backside, skidding down a tiled ramp outside the estate courtyard like a rogue shopping cart. His foot clipped the railing mid-slide.

“Ow—okay, that one’s real,” he muttered, groaning.

He staggered upright, dazed, wobbling on legs that hadn’t fully reloaded their coordination software. Everything smelled like chlorine, burnt circuits, and… chive dumplings?

He blinked up. “Hey… the lights just came on,” he said to no one in particular. “Mum and Dad must be home.” His stomach growled. “Sweet—it’s dim sum night.”

The absurdity of it cracked the moment like cheap glass.

Then a voice cut in—sharp, flat, unimpressed. “Seriously?”

Tao turned. TingTing stood beside him, drenched, covered in seaweed, face unreadable and very much alive. She wasn’t smiling.

“I just risked my life hauling you through a Jump you detonated with your fist,” she said, voice ice. “And your first words are dim sum?”

Tao blinked again. “No a tank. Any way you’re here. Wait—how are you here?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pointed upward. “More importantly—look.”

He followed her gaze. Three fiery streaks tore across the sky, low and fast, glowing like missiles dragging tails of ash.

“There’s three of them,” he said, voice smaller now.

“And they’re not slowing down,” she added.

They stood still, dripping in the middle of the city, barefoot and blown out of space-time.

TingTing exhaled, sharp and tense. “Where’s Blossom?”

Tao opened his mouth, then paused. “…I don’t know.”

Over in Toronto the cousins didn’t ask questions. They didn’t need to. They’d been schooled by the best.

“Here she is, Ma,” one of them called out, already helping her out of the gear.

“Thank you, boys,” Grandma said as she stepped in. “Rearm the sensors, have the algos on scan.”

“We’ve got it,” one cousin replied. “Roster’s checked, Ma. You and Cuz chill.”

“Thank you, boys.”

She turned to Blossom, who could barely stand.

“I’ve run the bath. Bubbles galore. Go and soak. I’ll give you a call when dinner’s nearly ready. Go on now, baby.”

“Thanks, Ma,” Blossom whispered, her voice frayed but grateful.

Back in South Harbour City.

The apartment door clicked open. Tao and TingTing stepped inside, still damp, still barefoot, still trailing the faint scent of seaweed and ionized ozone.

Their mother looked up from the dining table, eyebrow raised. Their father leaned out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, grinning wide.

“Well?” Mum said, gesturing at their outfits. “Fancy dress in the harbour?”

Dad nodded approvingly. “Not bad, not bad. Bit dramatic on the exit though.”

TingTing blinked. Tao just stared. They were too exhausted to speak.

“Come on, you two,” Mum said, already setting out chopsticks. “Freshen up. We’ll wait.”

“Not too long,” Dad added, peering into the steamer. “Dim sum’s my favourite.”

TingTing and Tao stood there for a moment longer—blinking at the normalcy, the calm, the scent of roast pork buns and jasmine tea cutting through the chaos still ringing in their heads.

Tao leaned closer and whispered, “Do we tell them?”

TingTing shook her head. “Not yet.”

They padded down the hall, dripping and dazed, as if walking out of one world and back into another. Behind them, their parents laughed quietly at something on TV. Outside the windows, the sky was still streaked with light trails—slow, distant, and still falling.

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