The atmosphere in the Conference Hall was thick. The holographic displays above the white marble table flickered with data streams from District 4, jagged red spikes that signaled a reality breach of the highest order.
"That's where we'll leave the logistics for today," a heavy, resonant voice vibrated through the room.
The speaker was Fenris, the Rank 2 Commander. He stood with his arms crossed over a chest so broad it seemed to strain the dark fabric of his uniform. His spiky red hair stood up like flames, clashing with the blue-lit walls of the hall. His skin tan with scars covering every inch. He looked like a wall of muscle designed for one thing: the absolute suppression of any threat.
"But let's be clear," Fenris continued, his eyes narrowing. "The issue in the Core is growing. If we don't deal with it immediately, this won't just be a sector problem—it'll be a facility problem."
"Fenris, Fenris... you always sound so heavy when we talk," a second voice drifted from across the table, laced with a playful, sharp edge. "Why don't you loosen up for once? You're going to give yourself an ulcer before the fun even starts."
Vane, the Rank 5 Commander, was draped almost horizontally in his chair. He ran a hand through his light green hair, his eyes glimmering with an irreverent light. He looked less like a Commander and more like a viewer who found the whole situation hilarious.
Fenris didn't even turn his head. "Unlike you, Vane, I'm actually providing a solution to the matter at hand. Would you be kind enough to give us your input? Or are you too busy admiring your own reflection?"
Vane's eyes lit up. He sat up suddenly, a jagged, sharp grin spreading across his face. He leaned forward, pointing a gloved finger directly at the woman sitting silently at the end of the table.
"My input? Fine," Vane chirped. "I say we send her along with the boy. Why waste the high-tier droids? Send Sola. Who knows? Maybe the kid will end up just like her. A perfect mirror image."
Sola sat perfectly still. Her black hair shadowed her face, but her purple eyes were fixed on the data stream from District 4.
District 4, she thought, the realization hitting her like a physical weight. In our Core. They detected a Grade-C Remnant in a large city with many civilians... and they want to send a kid who hasn't even mastered his own pulse? Is this what Sarina was trying to tell me?
She felt the gaze of the man at the head of the table.
Nyx stood up slowly. His presence didn't just command attention; it demanded silence. He adjusted his high collar, his icy blue eyes sweeping across the room until they landed on Sola.
"Sola will not be part of the deployment," Nyx said, his voice cold and final. "District 4 is a calibration zone. As such, Candidate Kenzo will handle the breach. He will be accompanied by Sarina for data synchronization."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Sola stood up so abruptly her chair scraped against the floor with a screech that set everyone on edge. She didn't shout. She didn't unleash her energy. But the expression on her face was a mask of cold, concentrated fury. The air around her began to stutter, the violet light of her eyes pulsating with an unstable rhythm.
Nyx didn't flinch. He simply tilted his head, his expression one of mild, clinical interest. "Oh? Is there something you'd like to say, Sola?"
Sola gripped the edge of the table. She looked at the man she had served for years—the man who was currently signing a death warrant for a student and an intel officer.
"You, Nyx..." she whispered, her voice trembling with a rare, raw emotion. "You are truly a terrible human."
***
Hans slumped back against the pillows, the clinical white sheets crinkling under his weight. He looked at his hands again—still pale, still devoid of that comforting sapphire hum.
"We need a line to Sola," Hans said, his voice grating like stone on stone. "But look at me. My well is dry. If we move now, I'd just be dragging you down."
Naomi paced the narrow space between the cots, her boots clicking a frantic rhythm. "Then we don't wait for you to recover, Hans. We move fast. Every second we spend sitting in this box is another second Nyx spent perfecting whatever hell he's weaving for us." She stopped, eyes burning as she looked at Sarina. "Tell me you have a backdoor. Tell me we can reach her now."
Sarina didn't look up from her tablet. The blue light of the screen washed out her features, making her look ghostly. "I can't. Not yet."
"What do you mean 'not yet'?" Kenzo asked, leaning against the wall.
"The meeting," Sarina whispered. "The Commanders are in a hard-lock briefing. It's a total signal blackout. If I try to ping Sola's private frequency now, it'll trip a silent alarm in Nyx's personal hub. All we can do is wait for the doors to open."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A high-pitched, rhythmic chime cut through the air. It wasn't the steady pulse of a heart monitor. It was the frantic, intrusive tone of a high-priority emergency override.
The tablet in Sarina's hands began to vibrate violently. She stared at the screen. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat as if the air had suddenly turned to ice.
Kenzo was at her side in two strides. "Sarina? What is it? Talk to us."
Sarina didn't look at him. She couldn't. Her eyes were locked on a flashing red icon—a schematic of the facility's deepest level.
"It's not... it's not a message," Sarina choked out. She turned the tablet around, her hands trembling so hard the image blurred.
In the center of the screen, a single black dot was moving through a restricted zone—a place no student, and few commanders, were ever permitted to enter.
"A Remnant," Sarina said, her voice barely audible over the chime. "It's bypassed the perimeter. It's bypassed the shields. It just entered the Core."
The room went deathly still. Hans sat bolt upright, ignoring the flare of pain in his shoulder.
The Core wasn't just a power source. It was the heart of all realities. If a Remnant was here, it wasn't looking for a fight.
It was looking to unmake the world.
The chime of Sarina's tablet hadn't stopped ringing when a second, deeper tone vibrated through the device. A priority-one notification flashed across the screen, overriding the emergency alerts. The icon wasn't the facility's emblem—it was the personal sigil of the Rank 2 Commander.
Sarina stared at the text, her eyes widening. "It's a direct order. From Commander Fenris."
"Fenris?" Naomi asked, turning toward Sarina. "What does the muscle guy want?"
"He wants a meeting. Now," Sarina said, looking up at Kenzo. "Main corridor, West Wing junction. But... the order says only Kenzo and I are to be present."
A heavy silence followed. Kenzo looked at Hans, whose sapphire eyes were clouded with suspicion, then at Naomi, who looked ready to protest. Finally, he looked at Sarina's trembling hands. He didn't like the idea of walking into the jaws of the High Command without his full unit, but they were already out of time.
"It might not be the route we wanted," Kenzo said, his voice dropping into a determined rasp. "But it's a start. If he's calling us out like this, he's either going to kill us or help us. Either way, we're getting out of this room."
He gave Naomi a brief, reassuring nod before turning to the door. "Let's go. Let's see what he has to say."
***
The Main Corridor was a vast, arching tunnel of glass, lit by a low, pulsing blue light. At the end of the hall, silhouetted against the view of the facility's outer shell, stood Fenris.
Up close, his physical presence was overwhelming. His spiky red hair seemed to glow in the dim light, and his shoulders were so broad they seemed to block out the horizon. He was the definition of an immovable object.
As Kenzo and Sarina approached, Fenris turned. His face, usually a mask of battle-hardened scars and stern lines, suddenly softened. A small smile as his gaze landed on Sarina.
"Sarina," Fenris said, his voice losing its gravelly edge. "You've grown. It feels like it was just yesterday when you were barely tall enough to reach the data terminals."
He reached out a massive hand, gently patting her head. To him, the elite intel officer was still the quiet child he had watched over years ago. Sarina offered a small, awkward smile, clearly torn between her fear of the situation and her history with the Commander.
"Commander Fenris," she whispered.
"We don't have time for a reunion," Kenzo interrupted. He stepped forward, his frame looking small compared to the Commander, but his posture was rigid. He didn't bow. "You called us here. Is this about the Remnant in the Core?"
"So, you're the man of the hour," Fenris rumbled. He tilted his head. "Or the boy, I should say. You look like you've barely seen seventeen summers."
"I am seventeen," Kenzo snapped, meeting Fenris's gaze without blinking. "And in this place, that's more than enough time to be considered a man. Now, are you going to tell us why we're here?"
Fenris let out a short, sharp huff—it might have been a laugh, or a sign of begrudging respect. He sat down on a nearby bench, the heavy metal creaking under his immense weight. His face became deathly serious.
"Correct," Fenris said. "A Grade-C Remnant has been detected. And you've seen the alerts, so I'll skip the lecture. This isn't a sub-sector breach. This is happening here. In our reality. In the foundation."
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
"Nyx has made his decision," Fenris continued, his voice dropping. "I've been tasked with delivering the mission brief. You aren't going to the med-bay, and you aren't staying in the dorms. Kenzo, Sarina... the two of you are being deployed immediately."
He looked at the holographic map on the wall, where a flashing red marker highlighted a sprawling urban center in the Main Reality.
"Your objective is District 4, the city of Alinar," Fenris declared. "You are to locate the Remnant and neutralize it before the infection rises."
The air in the outside corridor felt suddenly thin.