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“What are you thinking?” Chris asked, staring into Chelsea's brilliant blue eyes.
She shook her head, frowning. There was an ocean of hurt and misery swirling inside her eyes that Chris just didn't understand. “Don't worry about it...” She said, “It doesn't matter.”
Unsatisfied, Chris shook his head, then stood up. “I've got to go take care of some business, we have two new recruits. Care to join me?”
Chelsea looked up at him, then slowly shook her head.
Chris shrugged, “Alright. I'll be back in a few hours.” Then he was out the door, heading down the street.

Chelsea looked around the kitchen she found herself in. There was a huge pile of money just laying in the corner of the room. Chris had stolen it, no doubt. She didn't like this style of life. It made her feel like a criminal, but she supposed that was what she had become. Nothing more than a low-life, except that she could summon the power of a tsunami at will.
Ever since the fight at the pier, her thoughts had kept going back to Sean. He had a new girlfriend, someone other than her. They hadn't been together for almost a year, it shouldn't bother her – but it did. Deep down, she knew that she still loved him. She would do anything to be with him again, not with Chris. She hated Chris. She only stuck around because she was scared of him.
She stood up, she had made up her mind. She was going to go find Sean and talk to him. It couldn't be too hard to find him – what was that club Chris had mentioned where Conduits always went to hang out? Le lieu. And the password for the back – what was it again? Segreto.
She went to the porch and opened the door, her breath catching in her throat as she beheld Chris standing there, she could see two other men standing a few yards behind him, but she wasn't paying attention to them. “Where are you going?” He asked, his voice struck her like a dagger.
“Just out.” She lied, and she knew it had shown in her voice.
“Bullshit.” Chris said, scowling. He looked her over, up and down repeatedly, and finally came to his decision. “You're not leaving me, and going to join those pathetic wastes of power, are you?”
Chelsea stared at him, dumbfounded. How did he know? Stars started to dance inf ront of her eyes, and she realized she wasn't breathing. She took a deep intake of breath, and mouthed the single word, “No.”
Chris shook his head, “You're lying.” He reached back and brought his backhand across the side of her face, sending her sprawling onto the floor. He stepped into the house, he bent down and put his mouth right against her ear. “I don't take kindly to traitors, Chelsea.” He kissed her neck softly, mockingly, then grabbed her by the back of the shirt and pulled her up, turning her around to face him.
“You're a waste of space. You're no better than the rest of those losers...” He spat, rage welling up inside of him. He clenched his hand around her throat, not putting enough pressure on to stop her breathing, but enough to make it hurt. Then he heated his hands up, and smoke began to rise from Chelsea's neck, a sizzling sound emanated from her, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
She screamed, lashing out with her legs to kick at him, but Chris was solid. She grunted, the pain was agonizing, she couldn't take it anymore. She lashed out with her mind, and an ocean of water appeared around them, erupting out of her body like an over-powered fountain.
Chris faltered, bringing his hand up to shield himself from the ice-cold water. She lashed out with her foot, landing it right between his legs. With a pained grunt, Chris fell to the ground, clutching his groin.
Chelsea ran passed him, attempting to escape, only to find the two men waiting for her outside the house, standing next to each other in the yard.
They were nigh on identical. They both stood at six feet tall, with shiny, icey blue eyes. They had short, black hair, and pale skin. The only difference was the one on the right had a slightly more angular face, it sort of reminded her of a cat.
The one on the left spoke, “That was impressive, little girl. But I suggest you run along back inside now.” His voice was mocking and confident, it annoyed Chelsea.
“Get out of my way, or I'll wash your both away like couple pieces of debris.” Chelsea growled through clenched teeth. There was a black hand print burnt around her neck.
“Do it.” The one on the right said, smirking.
She smiled, “If you insist.” She cupped her hands together and pulled them behind her, then lunged forward, opening her hands. A wall of water blasted out of her hands, blocking the two men from sight. However, as the wall neared the two men, the water shifted colour, clouds of steam poured off of it, and it stopped.
She stared at it in amazement. It had solidified into a giant ice sculpture of a title wave.
Then, in an instant, the wave shattered, and thousands of shards of ice came tumbling to the ground and shattering around her, spreading all over the pavement like little bits of glass from a broken chandelier.
She made up her mind, she couldn't take these two on. So she ran.
She ran as fast as she could, which was about ninety kilometres per hour. When she got on a clear stretch, she looked behind her, too see that she wasn't being pursued, so she slowed down gradually until she stopped. The people on the street she had found herself on stared at her, wide-eyed.
Oh well, she thought, We can't hide from the public forever. She waved at the crowd, raising her hand high above her head, then leapt off into air, landing on a roof, heading for Le Lieu.