Best Friends
It wasn't hard to spot the gossip—The Badlands was buzzing with it. Within a day, Valerian and Juniper's engagement was the talk of every Sin Hunter. A wedding was planned for the chilly season—something warm to offset the cold.
I was genuinely happy for them, and for the first time in a while, my heart felt lighter.
But not everything was sunshine. Cassian Vance's punishment came down—he was demoted to Earth-tier Sin Hunter. Still formidable, but no longer at the absolute pinnacle.
Valerian, as expected, was also demoted—down to Human-tier, the lowest rank. He was devastated all over again. He'd been so close to Earth-tier, and now he was back at the bottom. But he put on a brave face for Juniper. "Now I can stay by your side and protect you properly," he told her.
Juniper, meanwhile, couldn't have been more thrilled if she'd won the lottery. She bounded around the apartment like a bunny, singing to herself, "My wish came true! My wish came true!" whenever Valerian wasn't around.
Life went on.
Sage dropped by once. He'd heard the news about Cassian Vance's demotion and came to check on him. The two of them stood outside, talking quietly. Sage looked troubled—his loyalty to Cassian Vance ran bone-deep, and he felt responsible somehow.
Cassian Vance told him, "Don't worry about me. Focus on your own path."
Sage nodded, but the worry didn't leave his eyes.
After he left, I found Cassian Vance sitting alone at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cold cup of tea.
I sat across from him. "How are you holding up?"
He looked up. "I've been lower than this before."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. He didn't pull away.
That evening, Juniper invited me to her room for what she called "girl time." She'd laid out snacks, tea, and even a face mask. Valerian was banished to Cassian Vance's room for the night.
"Sleepover!" Juniper declared, clapping her hands.
I laughed. "We're grown women."
"Grown women need sleepovers too. Now apply a mask first, then we talk."
We lay side by side on her bed, masks on our faces, tea within reach. The room smelled of roses from her diffuser.
Through the mask, Juniper said, "Sister, I need to tell you something important."
"What?"
"About Valerian's demotion... I helped arrange it."
I turned my head. "What do you mean?"
She smiled behind the mask. "I may be ranked last, but I've been a Sin Hunter longer than you. I know people. When I heard the Si Zhu was going to restructure tiers, I pulled some strings. Made sure Valerian was demoted."
"You did that?"
"Of course! He was crying earlier, but he'll thank me one day. Being Human-tier means safe missions, if any. He can stay close to home, stay close to me. And I'll always be there to protect him—rank last or not."
"He doesn't know?"
"He mustn't ever know. Promise me."
"Promise."
She reached over and found my hand. "Sister, you're the best friend I've ever had. I never had a sister, but if I could choose one, it'd be you."
I squeezed her hand back. "Same here, Juniper."
We lay in comfortable silence for a while before I spoke again.
"Can I ask you something personal?"
"Anything."
"Do you ever worry about Valerian—but not the way you think? Like, you worry he'll figure out how much you manipulate things for him?"
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Every single day. But here's the thing—he doesn't want to know. Valerian likes living in his own little bubble where everything works out because of luck or fate or some grand plan. If he knew I was behind half of it, he'd feel emasculated. And that would hurt him more than anything."
"That's... surprisingly thoughtful."
"I'm not as dumb as I look." She pinched the edges of her face mask. "Anyway, enough deep talk. Let me paint your nails."
"Okay, but no pink."
"What's wrong with pink?"
"It's too cute."
"And that's a problem because?"
I surrendered. By the time she was done, my nails were sparkly pink and I had to admit they looked nice.
As we lay down to sleep, Juniper turned off the lamp and whispered, "Good night, Sister."
"Good night, Juniper."
In the darkness, I thought about how strange it was that the loneliest people find each other. I'd been alone since my husband's death. Juniper had been invisible since she could remember. Valerian had been brushed aside his entire life. And Cassian Vance...
I fell asleep thinking about him. About the way he'd looked at me on that beach. About the ring he'd pocketed.
Morning came with the smell of pancakes. Valerian had taken over the kitchen again, flipping pancakes while Cassian Vance sat at the table reading something on his phone.
"We made breakfast for our ladies!" Valerian announced when we stumbled in.
Juniper kissed his cheek. "My hero."
I sat next to Cassian Vance, who pushed a plate toward me without looking up from his phone.
"Pancakes or eggs?"
"Both."
He stood and filled my plate.
Normal life, I thought. This is what normal life feels like.
But normal wasn't meant to last on The Badlands.
That afternoon, while I was running an errand at the eastern market district, I ran into someone I hadn't expected—Ethan Cole.
She was standing at a fruit stall, examining mangoes as if they held the secrets of the universe. When she saw me, she froze. Then her expression hardened.
"What are you doing here?"
"Buying fruit," she said flatly. "This mango man is the best on the island."
She wasn't wrong—the mangoes here were spectacular. But that wasn't the point.
I studied her. She looked tired. There were shadows under her eyes, and her usually impeccable appearance was slightly disheveled.
"You look like you haven't slept."
"I'm fine."
"Ethan Cole."
She flinched at the use of her real name. On The Badlands, almost no one knew it.
"Why are you really here?"
She looked around to make sure no one was listening, then lowered her voice. "I need to talk to you. Somewhere private."
I considered refusing. Ethan Cole and I had a complicated history—she'd been both ally and adversary, sometimes in the same conversation.
But something in her eyes told me this was different.
"Fine. Follow me."
I led her to a small café tucked between a hardware store and a massage parlor. It was the kind of place where nobody asked questions and the coffee was strong enough to deflect bullets.
We sat in a corner booth. Ethan Cole ordered black coffee. I got tea.
She stirred her coffee even though she hadn't added sugar. "Something's happened. Something bad."
"Define bad."
"Nolan Kane's made contact with someone on the inside."
My stomach dropped. "Who?"
She shook her head. "I don't know yet. But he's been receiving encrypted communications from someone within Judgment Tower. I intercepted fragments—they're planning something. Something that will destroy The Badlands from within."
"Why tell me?"
She looked up from her coffee. Her eyes were bloodshot, and I realized she hadn't just been tired—she'd been crying.
"Because I'm tired. I've been playing both sides for so long I've forgotten which one I'm actually on. And somewhere along the way, I realized... I don't want The Badlands to burn. Whatever my reasons for coming here, this place has people I care about. Even you."
That was a lot to take in from someone who'd once aimed a gun at my head.
"I need proof," I said.
"I'm working on it. But I wanted you to know first. Watch your back, Maya Chen. And watch Cassian Vance's back too. Nolan Kane has a special interest in him."
"Why?"
"Because Cassian Vance is the only Earth-tier Sin Hunter Nolan Kane couldn't break. Every other person of that rank either joined him or died. Cassian Vance is the exception. And Nolan Kane doesn't tolerate exceptions."
I processed this. "You're saying he's coming for Cassian Vance specifically?"
"I'm saying he's already started. I just don't know how yet."
My teacup felt cold in my hands. Ethan Cole's warning was a knife in my gut—not because I didn't believe her, but because I did.
"How long do we have?"
"I don't know. Days? Weeks? It depends on how fast the inside source works."
I nodded. "Thank you."
She stood to leave, then paused. "Maya Chen—whatever happens between us? I want you to know. This isn't a trick. I'm scared."
She walked out before I could respond.
I sat alone in the café for a long time after that, turning the information over and over. Ethan Cole was many things—a spy, a shape-shifter, sometimes a traitor—but she wasn't a coward. If she said she was scared, she meant it.
And that terrified me more than anything.
I hurried home. Cassian Vance was in the living room, working out with seemingly infinite patience—push-up after push-up, his abs contracting and releasing. Major lay nearby, watching him with a lazy eye.
I sat down next to the dog and stroked his ears. Cassian Vance didn't pause.
"How was your walk?" he asked between reps.
"I ran into someone."
"Who?"
"Ethan Cole."
He stopped mid-push-up. That got his attention.
"She came to you?"
"She said Nolan Kane has someone inside Judgment Tower."
He completed the push-up, then sat up, wiping his face with a towel. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes had sharpened.
"When?"
"She didn't say exactly. But soon."
He was quiet for a long time. Then: "I've suspected as much."
"You have?"
"Some missions went wrong recently. Small things—timing off, information slightly off. Nothing you'd notice unless you were looking for a pattern."
"And you noticed."
"I'm always looking for patterns."
When Cassian Vance had been Heaven-tier, he'd had access to intelligence that ordinary Sin Hunters never saw. Even demoted, his instincts remained razor-sharp.
"What do we do?"
"We don't panic. We watch. And we trust as few people as possible."
"Can we trust Ethan Cole?"
He considered this. "Up to a point. She's playing all angles—that's what she does. But she wouldn't warn us unless she was genuinely scared."
"That's what I thought."
He stood, walked over, and sat beside me on the couch. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him.
"We'll handle this," he said. "Together."
It was such a simple statement, but it settled something inside me.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, I stood by my window and looked out at the Badlands. The island was quieter than usual—the Sin Hunters' exposure had made everyone cautious. Fewer people on the streets, fewer lights in the windows.
But here in our apartment, there were four people who still believed in what Judgment Tower stood for. And one very lazy dog.
I pulled the curtain shut and got into bed.
Tomorrow, we'd start watching. We'd find the traitor before they could strike. And we'd protect the only home any of us had ever known.
But tonight, I let myself rest.
After all, wasn't that what living in the moment meant?