Jolie pulled the stolen hover-shuttle into the shadows beneath an abandoned mag-lev overpass. The dashboard lights cast a sickly green glow over her face as she rapidly typed Keanu Robertson's name into the stolen communicator.

The holographic screen flooded with red warning flags. Shadow Sector top-tier assassin. Callsign: Phantom. Extreme aversion to females. Suspected of murdering three previous mandated partners.

Jolie rubbed her temples, a sharp headache pulsing behind her eyes. "The Commonwealth isn't giving me a husband," she muttered bitterly. "They're handing me a death warrant."

Staying in the Core Worlds was suicide. Catina would keep trying to kill her, the military General she just robbed would hunt her down, and now a psychotic assassin was legally bound to find her.

She needed to vanish.

Jolie plugged Aloys's untraceable credit cards into the shuttle's terminal. Using the dark web routing protocols she had learned from the original Jolie's memories, she rapidly laundered the funds, scattering the millions of credits across a dozen encrypted offshore accounts.

Next, she accessed a high-end black market broker. For a premium fee, she purchased a flawless, forged identity matrix. Her new name was simply "Jo."

She pulled up the galactic map. She needed a place far from the military, far from the Shadow Sector, and perfect for her plant-based abilities. Her finger tapped on a dusty, green-and-brown planet on the very edge of the Commonwealth's reach.

Agri-World Prime.

She booked a one-way ticket in the cargo hold of an anonymous freighter leaving in exactly three hours.

While Jolie plotted her escape, the sun began to rise over the Sovereign Grand Hotel.

In the ruined presidential suite, Aloys Patterson's eyes snapped open.

The feral madness had receded, leaving behind a cold, crystalline rage. He realized instantly that he was bound to the wall. He looked down. His military uniform was shredded, his spatial ring was gone, and his secure communicator had been stripped from his wrist.

He had been robbed. By a female.

A terrifying surge of blue lightning erupted from his core. The sheer concussive force of his Thunder-attribute power blasted the dead, withered vines into fine ash.

Aloys dropped to the floor, his boots crunching on the ruined marble. His face was a mask of pure, murderous intent. He strode to the central console and punched the screen to bring up the security feeds.

Static. The logs were wiped clean.

Aloys let out a dark, humorless laugh that held no warmth. "Good. Very good. You have a death wish."

He tapped a secondary, sub-dermal comms unit behind his ear, connecting directly to his adjutant. "Issue an S-rank galactic bounty. I want every spaceport locked down. Find me a high-level Flora-Affinity user. I want them brought to me alive."

Miles away, Jolie walked through the chaotic, crowded terminal of the lower-city spaceport. She wore an oversized hoodie, her face hidden deep within the shadows of the fabric.

Above her, the massive holographic departure boards flickered. The flight times vanished, replaced by a glaring red S-rank military bounty. There was no picture, only a description: Wanted. High-level Flora-Affinity user. Armed and extremely dangerous.

Jolie pulled her hood down a fraction of an inch tighter. She kept her head down and her pace steady, walking right beneath the glaring red letters toward Cargo Bay D.

She swiped her forged ID card at the automated scanner. The light blinked green.

Jolie stepped into the dark, oil-stained belly of the interstellar freighter. She found a corner behind a stack of metal crates, sat down on the cold floor, and crossed her arms. She closed her eyes as the ship's massive engines roared to life, vibrating through her bones.

Two days later, the ship broke through the atmosphere of Agri-World Prime.

Jolie walked down the loading ramp. The air was thick, hot, and smelled heavily of turned soil and cheap fertilizer. It was a far cry from the sterile, perfumed air of the Core Worlds.

She took a deep breath. Her Arborgenesis power hummed happily in her veins, resonating with the raw, untamed nature of the planet.

Jolie walked to a rusted information kiosk on the edge of the spaceport. She pulled up the local land registry. Thousands of acres of barren, failed farmland were listed for pennies.

Her eyes locked onto a remote, isolated patch of dirt on the edge of a dead zone. Plot 313.

A slow, ambitious smile spread across her face. She turned her back on the spaceport and headed straight for the local Land Management Bureau.

The Land Management Bureau was a decaying concrete building that smelled of stale smoke and despair. Jolie pushed open the heavy glass door, the rusted hinges screaming in protest. Overhead, a ceiling fan wobbled dangerously, clicking with every rotation.

Hank Jankowski, the regional director, was asleep with his muddy boots propped up on his metal desk. The screech of the door jolted him awake. He wiped a line of drool from his chin and eyed Jolie up and down. Seeing her cheap hoodie and dust-covered jeans, his lip curled into a sneer.

Before stepping into the building, Jolie had spent ten minutes sitting on a rusted bench outside, using her stolen terminal to slice into the local agricultural database. She had pulled the raw geological survey data for the region, cross-referencing the coordinates of the dead zone.

Jolie didn't speak. She walked to his desk and slapped a physical, untraceable credit chip onto the scratched metal. "Fifty thousand credits. I want the deed to Plot 313."

Hank's eyes bulged. He snatched the chip, plugging it into his terminal. The screen flashed green, confirming the funds. His sneer instantly melted into a greasy, sycophantic smile. "Plot 313! Excellent choice, little lady. The soil there is prime. Very fertile. But fifty thousand is a bit low for such a premium-"

"Save it," Jolie cut him off, her voice like cracking ice. "I read the unredacted planetary survey report. Plot 313 has a soil salinization level of eighty percent. It's been barren for three years, and the local groundwater is toxic. It's worth ten thousand, max. Take the fifty and give me the deed and the control codes for the two rusted farming bots on the property, or I walk."

Hank swallowed hard. He hammered the keys on his terminal, quickly transferring the digital deed to her forged ID. "Pleasure doing business, Ms. Jo."

An hour later, Jolie parked a rented, beat-up pickup truck at the edge of Plot 313.

It was a wasteland. Acres of cracked, white-crusted earth stretched out beneath the blistering sun. In the center stood a two-story wooden farmhouse that looked like a strong breeze would knock it over.

Jolie didn't care. She pulled out her terminal and activated the two rusted farming bots sitting in the yard. "Clear the surface debris," she ordered. The machines whirred to life, slowly rolling into the fields.

She grabbed a small canvas bag from the passenger seat. Inside were the cheapest, lowest-grade mutated corn seeds she could buy in town.

Jolie walked to the center of the barren field. She crouched down, digging her bare fingers into the dry, dead dirt. She closed her eyes and called upon her Arborgenesis.

A brilliant green light spilled from her palms, sinking deep into the earth. The energy acted like a microscopic filtration system, violently neutralizing the salt and toxins in the soil.

She pressed a single corn seed into the purified dirt. Taking a deep breath, she activated Sylvan Soul, pushing pure life-force into the seed.

The earth trembled. A vibrant green shoot exploded from the soil. It didn't just grow; it violently expanded. Within sixty seconds, the shoot thickened into a towering, six-foot-tall cornstalk. Broad green leaves unfurled, and two massive, golden ears of corn swelled on the stalk, radiating a faint, pure energy signature.

Jolie snapped an ear off the stalk and took a bite. The kernels burst with sweet juice, and a tiny rush of clean, regulatory energy washed over her tongue.

Her eyes widened. In a universe where high-energy food was a luxury monopolized by the elite families, she had just grown a gold mine in sixty seconds.

"Bots," Jolie called out, her voice ringing with newfound authority. "Commence mass planting."

For the next six hours, Jolie stood at the edge of the field, her hands glowing like twin suns as she cast a massive area-of-effect energy field over the land.

By nightfall, the dead wasteland of Plot 313 had transformed into a dense, rustling forest of golden corn.

Jolie collapsed onto the wooden steps of the farmhouse. Her mental energy was completely drained, her head throbbing with a dull ache, but her heart was racing with triumph.

She pulled out her terminal and logged into the galactic black market's anonymous trading hub. She snapped a picture of the glowing corn, attached the energy purity analysis, and listed it at ten times the price of standard crops.

Within five minutes, her inbox exploded with dozens of frantic messages from buyers. Demand was astronomical.

Jolie smiled, closing the terminal. She leaned back against the wooden railing, ready to sleep.

Suddenly, a deafening, mechanical wail tore through the night sky.

Jolie bolted upright. In the distance, over the center of the town, a blood-red military flare shot into the air, illuminating the clouds. The air pressure shifted, carrying the unmistakable, chaotic static of a Primal's feral energy going critical.

Jolie's eyes narrowed. A feral Primal meant chaos. But to her, it meant a free, massive energy battery just waiting to be harvested.

Jolie threw herself into the driver's seat of the beat-up pickup truck. She slammed the accelerator, tearing down the dirt road toward the town center. She parked the truck in a dark alley two blocks away from the plaza, pulled her hood up to shadow her face, and melted into the panicking crowd.

The town square was a war zone.

In the center of the plaza stood a man engulfed in roaring, crimson flames. It was Blaze Thatcher, a local Fox-attribute Primal. His feral index had completely shattered his sanity. His eyes were pure, glowing white, and he was hurling massive fireballs at the surrounding storefronts, turning the market into an inferno.

A squad of local security guards crouched behind a shattered concrete fountain, firing low-grade energy blasters at him. The blue plasma bolts hit Blaze's fire shield and fizzled out harmlessly.

Blaze let out a demonic screech. He swept his arm in an arc, sending a wave of fire that obliterated the top half of the fountain. The guards dove for cover, screaming for backup.

Jolie ducked behind an overturned fruit cart. The heat radiating from Blaze was blistering, singing the edges of her hoodie. She stared at him, her eyes tracking the chaotic flow of his energy. He was a walking reactor, and she needed his power.

But she was too far away. Her Arborgenesis couldn't reach him from here.

Using the chaos of the fleeing civilians, Jolie dropped to her hands and knees. She crawled through the smoke and debris, inching her way toward the ruined fountain, stopping just thirty feet from the raging Primal.

The heat was unbearable. Sweat poured down Jolie's face, stinging her eyes. She pressed her bare palms flat against the scorching cobblestones.

She focused her mind, condensing her green energy into threads as thin as spider silk. The translucent green lines slithered through the cracks in the stone, perfectly camouflaged by the smoke and the blinding light of the fire.

The threads crept up behind Blaze and silently wrapped around his ankles, slipping beneath the barrier of his flames.

"Absorb," Jolie commanded silently.

A violent, searing rush of fire-attribute energy shot up the threads and slammed into Jolie's body. She bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from screaming. The energy was brutal, tearing at her meridians like broken glass.

She immediately engaged Sylvan Soul, forcing the violent fire energy to convert into soothing, neutral plant energy.

Her system interface went wild.

[Regulatory Energy +100]

[Regulatory Energy +200]

[Regulatory Energy +500]

In the center of the plaza, Blaze stumbled. The roaring flames around his body flickered and shrank. The crushing pressure in his skull suddenly eased, replaced by a bizarre, cooling sensation spreading up from his legs.

He shook his head, the white glow fading from his eyes as his pupils dilated in confusion. He looked at his hands, realizing his feral state was being forcibly drained away.

The security guards saw the flames die down. "Now!" the captain yelled. They fired a heavy, electrified containment net, dropping it squarely over Blaze.

Blaze roared, trying to summon his fire to burn the net, but his energy reserves were suddenly empty. He fell to his knees, trapped.

Behind the fountain, Jolie gritted her teeth. She was so close. Her energy bar was almost full. She pulled harder, thickening the threads to drain the last dregs of his feral power.

Blaze felt the sharp tug on his energy core. His sanity fully restored, his combat instincts kicked in. He traced the cooling sensation down his leg, his sharp eyes following the faint green glow across the cobblestones, straight to the ruined fountain.

"Who's there? !" Blaze bellowed, his voice echoing over the sirens.

Jolie's heart stopped. She had been spotted.

She instantly severed the energy threads. The green light vanished. Without a second of hesitation, Jolie spun around and sprinted into the thickest part of the fleeing crowd, keeping her head down.

Blaze struggled against the electric net, his eyes scanning the crowd, but all he saw was a sea of terrified backs. The mysterious savior-or thief-was gone.

Jolie didn't stop running until she reached her truck. She threw herself inside, locking the doors, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. She had played with fire and almost gotten burned. But as she checked her system interface, a triumphant smile touched her lips.