The failure of yet another mission against the Harbingers weighed heavily on the group as the Commander faced them. According to Kie’s report, no one had awakened any new abilities. The only ability he knew of was Tee’s, and that came from the elders’ recent words. His sharp, unyielding gaze urged the others to speak, but the silence stretched until the Commander finally ended it. He announced new training and vowed to push them harder than ever.

  Hearing how Zod had held Legion back, the Commander began with him. Zod started small, shifting pebbles one by one, then several at once, increasing the force each time. When he finally managed that, the Commander set his true goal—a boulder as wide as a hover-car. At the thought alone, Zod’s head throbbed.

  The Commander doubted whether Miko’s failure to cut Legion’s back had been due to weakness, so he loaded her down with heavier weights. The thought of getting bulky was a major fear.

  Meanwhile, unknown to anyone, Tee had awakened a new ability. She wasn’t sure what it was—only that when her sword left her hand glowing blue, flames had flared around her palms before turning black.

  Saeda admitted her aura sensing and visions had simply stopped one day. Stress, she claimed. The Commander had her meditate in the cool shade, hoping it might stir them back.

  Kie flatly refused to train his mind-linking. To him, it was useless in battle and dragged up memories he wanted buried. The Commander made it clear he was disappointed.

  Kie had also withheld Tee’s lie from his report, so she wasn’t tasked with honing her foresight under pain, as she should have been. Instead, both she and Kie were left with their usual training regimen. Again, he found himself beside her, but that time he said nothing.

  Zod, however, felt singled out. The Commander demanded more from him than the rest, and it reminded him too much of his father breathing down his neck. After three grueling days, he had only managed to nudge the massive boulder an inch. How he had held Legion back before, he couldn’t say—unless his father’s shadow was still dragging him down.

  A few days later, the Commander announced a practical test. Tee and her comrades, already suited in battle gear, exchanged bewildered looks, unsure of the task awaiting them.

  There were no blaring alarms, no flashing red lights—clear signs it wasn’t another mission against the dreaded Harbingers.

  The five teens followed the Commander through a vast hall filled with jets, soldiers in green battlesuits, and bustling activity. Their eyes, however, were drawn to the wide opening ahead, where sunlight poured in and revealed the familiar mountain they often jogged across.

  Tee felt the weight of eyes on her. Some of the Vergant soldiers stared, their expressions unreadable. She knew the elders had revealed her secret to everyone in the facility—everyone except her teammates.

  The emotions pressing against her were strong and muddled. Was it fear? Disgust? Pretending it was just her hair color felt pointless. Plenty of Vergants had unusual hues, even one with hair so pale it looked white. Silently, she prayed her team would remain unaware of the truth.

  A sudden gasp from Zod pulled her attention back. The Commander had stopped in front of a row of five sleek, dark green vehicles gleaming under the lights.

  “We’re getting our own hover-cruisers?” Zod blurted, excitement breaking through the tension.

  The Commander didn’t indulge him. “Your Ultramana abilities won’t grow through training alone. And we can’t rely on encounters with the Harbingers every time. If it takes near-death experiences to unlock your powers, then near-death is what you’ll face.”

  Miko frowned, unsettled by the thought of another fight-or-die trial.

  “I need to see more from you,” the Commander pressed. “Greater potential. New abilities. You need to defeat the Harbingers—so you can return to your normal lives. I don’t want to keep you here any longer than I have to.”

  Tee reminded herself that the Harbingers were no ordinary humans—they were evil and had to be stopped. Yet the struggle remained. She was one of the five chosen to carry that burden.

  The Commander turned to the hologram screen, continuing his explanation for why they had been brought there.

  Each projection displayed a dark emblem—a grinning baby with horns framed by a black pentagon. Beneath it appeared a single word: Prodigy.

  The Commander’s voice cut through the noise as a full-body white battle suit rotated on the screens, its ghostly visor concealing the wearer’s identity.

  “Prodigy,” the Commander said, his voice heavy. “A secret, forbidden organization led by the criminal mastermind Varrak. They are guilty of countless crimes—illegal excavations, human and animal trafficking, espionage, and the trade of deadly weapons.”

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  Photographs flickered to life across the holograms, each one vivid and unsettling. The images pulled them in, forcing them to witness a disturbing tapestry of suffering and twisted experimentation.

  Tee flinched as scenes of blood-soaked bodies appeared—hands bound, faces covered with aluminum bags. The reality of such violence tore at her, stirring both sorrow and anger.

  The display shifted again, revealing floating slabs marked with the words Gone Missing. Faces followed—some aged and wise, others hauntingly young with wide, round eyes.

  Bright neon tapes cut across the screens, stamped with warnings: Do Not Cross. Danger. Crime Scene. Radioactive. Priman Authorization Only.

  The holograms pressed on, a relentless parade of crashes and destruction. Jet-limousines, bikes, and hover-vehicles were dragged from treacherous waters, their twisted frames a stark reminder of how fragile life could be. Aerial views showed multi-level highways ripped apart by explosions, leaving no survivors.

  Faces crowded the screens, each marked by a single bullet wound between the eyes. Victims ranged from esteemed university presidents and influential company heads to Mid-Guard officials, revered scientists, loving parents, humble janitors, vibrant nightclub hosts, and even young academy students. The indiscriminate nature of the violence left Tee reeling, her mind struggling to grasp the scale of loss.

  Explosions erupted across the holograms in sickly green and ominous purple flames, scorching the bodies in grotesque patterns. Tee had to look away as the imagery etched itself into her mind. Miko, too, recoiled, her eyes burning with a mix of horror and discomfort.

  The holograms turned to animals, evoking a different dread. Some were half-dead, victims of horrific experiments. Others had been twisted and altered into nightmarish forms. Tee closed her eyes, desperate to escape, but one creature lingered—veins protruding from its skin, eyes sunken deep into its skull, a haunting image that seared itself into her nightmares.

  The display shifted again, revealing mechanized armor, alien weapons, complex contraptions, and mysterious scientific devices. Sharp edges, metallic reflections, and intricate designs threatened to overwhelm her, hinting at technologies far beyond comprehension.

  Finally, a set of photographs appeared. The figure in a white battle suit, eerily lifeless, like a disfigured plaything. But the captions—Not Dead—Dead—Not Dead—kept flashing, while timestamps scrolled past, spanning a century from the distant past to the present day.

  Tee’s breath caught as the last timestamp appeared: Year 4020, Day Two of Mordon—the present day. Not Dead.

  With a sharp snap of the Commander’s fingers, the hologram screens shifted.

  “This may be old news, but it’s new to you…”

  The display revealed their circular planet with a single continent: Geovalon. Shrouded in the darkness of space, the planet slowly rotated, the focus settling on the endless blue waters. The image began to zoom in rapidly.

  “Varrak and his organization, Prodigy, have been gathering heart stones from abandoned Vergant villages,” the Commander explained. “The elders aren’t the only ones worried about their actions.”

  Tee watched the zooming waters, her mind briefly wandering to the possibility of being sent to Atlantis. But as Geovalon slipped from view, she realized they were headed for another desolate, uncharted location—civilization would remain out of reach.

  Small islands appeared atop the vast blue expanse, quickly blurring and fading. The zoom finally slowed, centering on a depression in the horizon that captured their full attention.

  “Your target location is Beldam,” the Commander announced firmly.

  The hologram revealed vast flatlands of shimmering green water. At the center, a colossal crater plunged deep, water cascading down its sloped walls like waterfalls. Lines and blocks of vibrant colors along the walls suggested distant man-made structures.

  Tee’s jaw dropped. That wasn’t just a village—it was an entire metropolis enclosed within an upside-down dome. Before she could fully take in its grandeur, the hologram flickered back to a large diamond.

  “Your mission,” the Commander continued, “is to retrieve the heart stone at the center of Beldam before Prodigy does—and to eliminate Varrak.”

  Miko gasped at the enormity of the task.

  “That person seems deathless, based on the screen,” Zod commented.

  The Commander continued, “Though it may seem impossible, you five—more than anyone—can do it.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, even after thousands of years, a sorcery barrier still envelops the region, interfering with teleportation, including vortexes.”

  “You won’t be able to drop-zone teleport directly to the target,” he explained. “I’ll transport you outside the barrier, and you’ll have to make your way in. Once the stone is removed, the barrier will crumble, allowing you to teleport back here.”

  His voice darkened. “Furthermore, this mission presents an opportunity to eliminate Varrak—and perhaps uncover any dark secrets you may be hiding from your teammates…”

  Tee blinked, her gaze snapping from the hologram to the Commander, who seemed to be staring straight at her. A chill ran down her spine—once again, she was being singled out.

  Fortunately, her comrades seemed oblivious to the full weight of his words. Perhaps he meant any abilities they were keeping secret—but either way, Tee fit both categories.

  The Commander’s subtle push for Tee to reveal her secret triggered flashes of Xeno-victims being spat on, tripped, and having garbage thrown at them. The life of a Xeno-victim was cruel and humiliating. Thankfully, she was not one of them.

  As the green light signaled the activation of the vortex, it was their cue to proceed. Each mounted a hover-cruiser, lined up along the walkway leading to the swirling portal.

  Zod, ever curious, asked, “Don’t we get helmets for this?” as his vehicle hovered above the ground.

  “I doubt you’ll need those,” the Commander replied, his tone unconcerned. “Now, less talking, more driving.” He raised a hand, pointing toward the vortex. “Time is of the essence.”

  Carefully, they maneuvered their vehicles into the vortex, visibility limited, each determined to avoid unseen obstacles.

  When Tee finally glimpsed her new surroundings, she gasped. “Unbelievable,” she muttered to herself. “If only Jack could see this.”