Tee forced one final blink against the suffocating dark, her eyes raw and stinging. The images wouldn’t leave her—Legion’s silhouette splitting open, his back unraveling as the bandaged one crawled out, carrying with him the chorus of a thousand voices that clawed at her skull. They trailed her even into waking, stitched into her nightmares like a brand.

  But worse still was the face she fought not to summon—Sade. The man who had stood there, silent, while she was carved open and left to bleed. The man who, all along, had been a Harbinger.

  He had haunted the edges of her life like a shadow given form—appearing when she was alone, never more than a breath away, his words always clipped, deliberately sparse. Sometimes mocking, sometimes almost kind, but never letting her forget she was prey under his gaze.

  But after all that had come to light, she would have to be mad to ever mistake him for a friend. But questions remained about their connection. Why was she the only one among her comrades who had seen him before? Or were they hiding the truth?

  Her alarm rang, cutting through the endless spiral of her thoughts.

  She dragged herself out of bed, her headache flaring with every step. In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and pulled her hair into a tight bun. Without bothering to remove the concealer on her neck, she added a fresh layer before heading downstairs.

  Like her, the others hadn’t slept either. Miko stirred a bowl with lifeless arms, Zod slowly sliced fruit, Kie listlessly turned items in a frying pan, and Saeda stood over the blender.

  Tee went straight to the coffee maker, taking her post without a word. Breakfast passed in silence, broken only by the clink of utensils and the dull rhythm of chewing.

  Soon after, the five of them were lined up neatly in the training room.

  The Commander stood before them with his usual authority, though he wore the same plain white shirt and dark blue sweatpants as them.

  “Cadets,” he said evenly. “Good morning. Based on the elders’ briefing, you failed to eliminate even a single Harbinger.” He sighed, then straightened. “To achieve the impossible, you must first break free of your reality. I know you can do it. You are not ordinary human beings—you are gifted with something far greater.”

  “Those godlike powers I’ve heard about?” Zod muttered. “What are we expecting—lightning from our hands?”

  Tee cut in with a dry joke. “Or maybe commanding the creatures of the sea?”

  Zod frowned. “What? There wasn’t any water when we faced the Harbingers.”

  “I’m not sure,” the Commander admitted. “The elders gave no details. But—” his voice sharpened, “—you’ve trained and fought as a team. Now, like every successful team, you must choose a leader to guide you forward.”

  The teens froze. Eyes darted from one to another, each silently wondering who among them could bear that weight.

  “After training, there will be a ceremony this evening,” the Commander continued. “Skip dinner if you can, and report to the mission base by five p.m.—casual attire.”

  Five p.m. That was an hour before global curfew. Not that anyone in Primus obeyed curfew. Still, the threat of the Xenosapian lingered. Tee knew better than anyone—she could mutate into one at any second.

  Training began with warmups. On the mountain run, Miko took the lead as usual. Tee and Kie kept pace behind, side by side. By the time they returned indoors, they found themselves together again, that time facing the punching bags. Kie glanced over, reassuring himself that Tee really was at his level.

  Kie waited until Tee burst the punching bag — like she always did. It happened after every few rounds. Her fists relentless, until the synthetic skin split open and the filler spilled out like guts. Predictable, in the strangest way.

  And in that brief pause — the moment before the next one slid into place — he made his move.

  “Who are you nominating for team leader?” he asked, casually, as if the question had just occurred to him.

  Tee didn’t turn. She didn’t blink. Her eyes were already locked on the new punching bag being wheeled in from a window slot. Bluffing silence. No answer.

  Kie smiled slightly, undeterred. He stepped a little closer, letting his voice carry — just enough. “You’d make a great leader,” he said. “I’d bet the few credits I came here with on you.”

  That did it.

  Tee froze.

  Not visibly. Not to someone passing by. But Kie noticed — the subtle pause in her breathing, the twitch in her jaw. She didn’t turn to him, not fully. Just stood there, motionless, as if recalibrating the rules of the universe.

  A Xeno-victim as team leader? What a messed-up reality. And what was with his tone? Too smooth. Too light. Was he seriously flirting with her? No. Couldn’t be. That had to be in her head. Right?

  She remembered he’d once said he wanted to be a Mid-Guard official. The thought twisted something in her gut. He had to be up to something. Maybe he wanted her vote — a wannabe MG off trying to win favor. The idea of him ordering her around one day made her want to spit on the ground.

  “I’m not sure who I’m voting for,” she said finally, her voice carefully neutral. She spared him a brief glance — just a flicker of eye contact, sharp and unreadable — before turning back to the new bag as it swung into place.

  “I’m guessing you want me to vote for you?” she added, then drove a punch straight into the bag, hard enough to leave a deep dent.

  She gave him another look, that time scanning him up and down. His scars were fading — the jagged reminders of whatever he'd clawed his way through. But it didn’t matter. Not to her.

  “Not in a lifetime,” she said flatly.

  Kie tilted his head, taking the jab with a half-smile. “Never said I was running.” He drove two punches into the bag, splitting it open as sand burst out behind his fist.

  She didn’t comment, just reset her stance and threw another punch. The bag groaned under the force.

  “But now I’m curious,” he added, quieter this time. “Why not me?”

  She paused, her back still to him. For a moment, it seemed like she wouldn’t answer. But the reason was clear. He wanted to become one of ‘them’. And from her experience, every Mid-Guard official was corrupt. If he wanted to join their ranks, then he had to be the same — no matter how nice he acted.

  A sharp ding cut through the air, signaling the end of their time on the punching bags. Tee stepped back, breathing evenly. Luckily, the Commander’s attention was elsewhere — focused on Miko. He looked proud. Miko had refused to grow her nails back, and she was steadily improving in the more ‘rough’ aspects of training. That clearly earned his respect.

  “All right, to the weight lifts,” the Commander barked.

  The five comrades moved towards the next training section. As they walked, grouped loosely together, Tee drifted close to Kie and spoke under her breath. Her tone was ice-cold.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “You don’t fool me. I know what you are.”

  Kie gave a quiet, almost amused breath. “Sounds like you know something I don’t.”

  She passed him without looking back. “I’m trying to focus. If you don’t mind.”

  After training, the five cooled off with something light. Since the Commander had warned they should skip dinner because of the ceremony, they gathered in the telegram emitter room, snacking while a movie played in the background.

  Zod, chewing noisily, spoke with his mouth half-full. “So… who’s gonna lift the weight of the world on their shoulders?”

  “I think you mean, who’s going to lead us into another failure,” Saeda muttered.

  Zod shot her a look. “Why are you always so negative?”

  Saeda slouched into the couch, head resting heavily on her hand. Kie frowned. He hated that about her. People like Saeda drained the life out of him.

  His gaze drifted to Miko. She was kind, but too soft. He needed someone tougher, someone who could handle the truths he carried. Someone who wouldn’t leave after knowing all he had to tell.

  Tee.

  She was the only one who fit that image out of the three female Sentinels. The thought of her almost made him forget himself. Almost. At least being nearly deathless meant he wouldn’t have to lose her. He hated death.

  “Well, I’m out,” Zod said, brushing crumbs from his hands. “I don’t want that kind of stress. Failing my exams is enough for me.”

  “Aren’t you done with Second-level Academy?” Tee asked. “What exam are you talking about?”

  “My dad’s sending me to Third-level Academy after Mid-Guard,” Zod said with a shrug. “He wants me to be a lawyer really bad, like him.”

  “Sucks to be you,” Tee said flatly.

  “I nominate Tee as leader,” Kie blurted.

  All eyes widened.

  “You didn’t,” Tee snapped, glaring at Kie. Kie only stared back, feigning innocence. Then she smiled thinly. Two could play that game. “Actually, Kie should be the leader. He’s spent so much time in the Mid-Guard, he knows more than the rest of us.”

  “That’s a good point,” Zod said, nodding with mock thoughtfulness. “He took charge during our face-off against the Harbingers—telling us to meet at Saeda’s location to teleport.”

  Saeda hated her name being mentioned. And memories of that bloodbath were unwelcomed.

  “I agree,” Miko chimed in. “Kie would make a great leader.”

  Saeda sighed, eyes fixed on the screen. If they were expecting a response from her, she was not going to give them one.

  Kie felt his words backfire, but Tee’s stare locked onto him like a dare. He wasn’t about to back down.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll lead this team.”

  Tee’s eyes widened. She instantly regretted pushing him. An MG off-wannabe, ordering her around?

  “Just so you know, we only have to follow you on missions,” Tee added.

  “Exactly,” Kie said smoothly, tossing a chip into his mouth. He leaned back, arm draped over the couch as if it meant nothing. But inside, his thoughts spun in chaos. He was team leader. Dammit!

  But he’d prove to Tee—and to himself—that he wasn’t a coward.

  Later, the five arrived at the mission base in casual attire. The Lieutenant, wearing round glasses and a long green jacket, smiled as she watched them approach.

  “Punctual. I like that,” she said, her eyes scanning the group.

  From a pocket in her jacket, she produced their telecoms and handed them out one by one.

  “With these, you can teleport back here after the ceremony—or earlier, if you choose. You may also want to split up. The location tracking will help you regroup when the time comes.”

  The Lieutenant waved her hand through the air, and a holographic screen sprang to life. With a few strokes on the surface with her special glove, the ground beneath the five teens began to glow red.

  “Have fun,” she said, and the familiar scene around them vanished.

  Darkness fell. Yet they could sense a large group surrounding them. Above, the stars shone bright in the night sky. Before any of them could ask where they were, a torch with a blue flame appeared, held by someone they could not make out in the dim light.

  “Greetings, O Sentinels. Ye must together wield this torch, that ye may bring light unto the darkness,” spoke the mysterious one.

  Tee and her comrades were guided to hold the single torch and direct its flame toward what appeared to be another torch. One by one, the other torches ignited, spreading light across the space.

  The light spilled across the landscape, painting the grass in gold, crimson, and sapphire, revealing hundreds of figures in vibrant robes and elaborate spectacles, each catching the torchlight and glittering like scattered jewels.

  For a moment, the world felt suspended in awe—the darkness pushed back, held at bay by the fire they had sparked. Then, as if on cue, the silence shattered. Cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, rolling across the open space like thunder. Fireworks shot skyward, carving brilliant arcs of white and blues into the night, their reflections dancing on the faces below and mingling with the torchlight.

  Every flicker of flame, every spark that burst from the fireworks, seemed to pulse with meaning—as if the universe itself acknowledged the significance of that moment, and the role Tee and her comrades were destined to play.

  She and her comrades stood frozen, their breaths catching as awe rippled through them.

  Based on the songs and cheers, it was a celebration—they had faced the Harbingers and lived. They were the true Sentinels, ready to drive back the darkness.

  Kie felt the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders.

  Zod grinned. “Well, why are we standing here? Let’s go!” He rushed into the crowd, eyes darting left and right, marveling at the Vergants in their colorful robes and intricate tattoos. Being around real Vergants who could wield sorcery made him lose himself—he wanted to be consumed by it all.

  The others trailed behind Zod, frozen in awe as a statue was unveiled of five figures standing back to back, swords raised to the sky.

  “Talk about over the top,” Saeda muttered in her low, emotionless voice.

  The crowd parted as the grand elders emerged. A hush fell over the celebration, and Tee felt a shiver of unease. Elder Caledor stepped forward and spoke.

  “Behold, young Sentinels, it is an honor to stand afore thee once more. Upon thy hands and hearts we lay this token, a mark of our gratitude. For trials yet to come thou shalt face, and through thy courage and steadfastness, the light of all shall be preserved from darkness.”

  Tee and her comrades were each given crowns to wear. Though they weren’t in ceremonial robes, the crowns made them stand out.

  A small figure with bright pink hair and shining eyes pointed at Tee. “The doomed one,” they whispered.

  Whispers spread, and many eyes turned to Tee. When her teammates looked to her for an explanation, she simply tapped her crown. “My hair, remember?”

  They nodded, recalling her earlier explanation. Deep down, Tee knew she had just saved herself with her calm response. She realized that everyone there—except her four teammates—already suspected she was a Hybrid, capable of mutating into a MegaSapian. It would have been right to tell them she was a covert Xeno-victim, but it was not the time. She couldn’t ruin their celebration.

  Seeing Tee’s expression shift to deep contemplation, Kie wondered if she had overstated when she said she was used to people staring because of her white hair. He decided it wasn’t wise to comment.

  The night stretched on, filled with wonders that seemed almost impossible. The Vergants used a blend of sorcery to bring everything to life, and Zod was utterly captivated.

  Acrobats and trapeze artists floated and flipped through the air without ropes, twisting and turning as if gravity itself had loosened its grip.

  Illusionists conjured impossible creatures—birds, wood deers, and other fantastical beasts—that darted among the crowd before vanishing. One swooped toward Miko, who yelped in fright, only for it to vanish behind Zod, who laughed heartily.

  Fire-breathers summoned actual flames that curled and twisted into shapes and letters mid-air, while water jugglers manipulated streams of liquid like living puppets, tossing in powdered flavors that flowed through the air before settling into small cups.

  Tee noticed how the food was always served in small portions. Starving from skipping dinner, she saw something she liked and devoured it like a beast. Kie chuckled at her eagerness.

  Levitating roller coasters hovered above invisible tracks, giving riders a bird’s-eye view of the entire celebration. Tee’s eyes sparkled—she wanted to ride. Below them, the crowd moved like a sea of colors, with sections of light, sorcery, and activity sprawling in every direction. At the center stood the statue of the five of them, proud and unyielding.

  Floating lanterns formed massive constellations above the audience, some drifting among the crowd to light their way. One floated to Saeda, who flicked it aside, a small smile ghosting her lips.

  Instrumental music filled the air, yet no instruments were visible. The source of the melody remained a mystery.

  “I bet they’re using sorcery,” Zod commented.

  Acrobats performed a mesmerizing hoop dance in mid-air, while others executed breathtaking Cyr wheel routines. A floating pool became the stage for water dances, each movement bending and shaping the liquid like magic.

  Nearby, a wide ice-covered area hosted skaters gliding effortlessly—not on skates, but in their regular shoes hidden beneath flowing robes. The frost reminded Tee of Tetra’s lab, and she wished her friend could share that moment—but Tetra was gone.

  The night passed in a blur, and soon a week had flown by. As Tee and her comrades prepared breakfast, red alarms blared overhead, shaking them to their core. A hologram of the Commander appeared, grim and urgent. It was time to face the Harbingers once more.