The barracks lights ignited with a sudden white glare that burned away the dim blue hush of sleep-cycle. Danny blinked awake instantly—not from the brightness, but from the sense that something in the room was different. The air felt sharper. He could taste a new scent in the recycled atmosphere—cool, metallic, predatory. Familiar in a way that tugged at instinct but not memory.
Swift sat up at once, posture straight, expression alert. Shadeclaw lifted his head from his bunk, nostrils flaring as though he already knew the source. Jade groaned and buried his face in his pillow. Jake flopped off his mattress with a bleat of despair.
Then Mira stood.
Danny's breath caught.
Not because she looked monstrous. Not because she looked violent. But because she looked—changed. Evolved. As if a sharper version of herself had stepped out of shadow to replace the one they knew.
Her posture had shifted subtly—perfect balance in every angle. Her pupils held a thin sliver of luminescent silver, narrowing instinctively against the lights. Her nails extended just barely into darkened claw-tips. Even her breathing had changed, slower, deeper, like she could draw in an entire room and categorize its scents one by one.
Jake, upon seeing her, screamed at a pitch normally reserved for small animals in mortal terror.
"THE DEMON HAS COME TO CLAIM MY SOUL—"
Mira gave him a flat look. Jake immediately scrambled backward and tripped over Swift's boots. Shadeclaw rose from his bunk with the smug satisfaction of a creature whose existence had just been validated by reality.
Jade dropped his comb. "Well damn. That's actually kinda sick."
Danny stared, speechless.
"Mira…" Swift murmured, stepping closer. "You took the offer."
She nodded. "Yes."
Danny found his voice, though it came out softer than intended. "Are you… are you okay?"
Mira took a careful breath. "I'm still me. Mostly. But my senses are sharper. My instincts are louder. My mind is… clearer."
Jake whimpered into the floor. "Are you gonna eat me?"
"No," she said, deadpan. "Not unless you scream again."
Jake hugged the floor, shaking.
Shadeclaw walked to her side as if she were now the second alpha of some unseen hierarchy. "She is pack."
Danny exhaled slowly. "If this is what you wanted—then we trust you."
Swift nodded firmly. "And strategically, this makes us stronger."
Jake raised his hand from the floor. "I vote we never sneak up on her. Ever."
Mira smiled faintly—sharper teeth glinting. "Probably for the best."
They dressed quickly after that, though the atmosphere remained charged. A new dynamic had settled. Not tension—alignment. As if the team had been rebalanced in ways they hadn't known were uneven.
They marched toward Concourse Alpha. Mira walked silently beside Shadeclaw. Danny caught glimpses of her in the corner of his vision—moving smoother than before, heavier but somehow lighter, every step perfectly placed.
When they entered the training concourse, Staff Sergeant Veldrak Sorn was already waiting.
The cyborg gorilla-man rotated his metal arm once with a metallic click and bared his fangs in what might have been approval—or indigestion.
He looked directly at Mira.
"You turned," he growled.
"Correct," she said.
"Good. Now you're less likely to die."
Shadeclaw's chest puffed up slightly. Jake hid behind Danny. Jade gave Mira an elbow-nudge of approval. Danny just smiled softly, relieved she was truly herself.
Sorn stomped forward and barked:
"CADETS! FRONT AND CENTER!"
Hundreds of trainees scrambled to formation. The six took their place at the front.
Sorn paced like a drill instructor forged from shrapnel and fury.
"You have been training for one month. You have suffered. You have bled. You have done slightly better than the failures I expected."
Jake pumped a fist. "Yes! Improvement!"
Sorn glared down at him. Jake melted into silence.
"Training prepares you," Sorn continued, "but it does not test you. Simulations lie. Controlled environments lie. But missions? Missions reveal the truth. And the truth is all that matters."
He stopped walking and stared directly at Danny.
"Creation boy. You think too much."
Danny blinked. "…Sir?"
He turned to Swift. "Silver dragon. You think too fast."
Swift frowned. "Is that—"
"Do not speak."
He jabbed a finger at Jake. "Bronze kid. You barely think at all."
Jake gave a thumbs up.
Sorn pointed at Jade. "Gangster. You think you're funny."
Jade smirked. "Most of the time, yeah."
Then at Shadeclaw. "Wolf. You think you're invisible."
Shadeclaw's tail twitched.
Finally, his gaze locked on Mira.
"And you think you're ready."
Mira didn't blink. "I am."
Sorn nodded deeply.
"Good."
The lights dimmed.
A hologram flickered into existence—showing a star map and a small moon.
"OUTPOST RHOMBUS," Sorn barked, "has dropped off the grid. Total blackout. Forty-three personnel. Not one transmission in three days."
A ripple of murmurs swept the cadets.
"That's not normal," Danny said quietly.
Sorn growled, "Correct. Buddies do not simply go silent."
The hologram zoomed in, showing the outpost's structure.
"You six," Sorn continued, "will deploy to investigate. This is a reconnaissance assignment. You will approach, assess, identify the cause, recover survivors if possible, and return. You are NOT authorized for full engagement. Do. You. Understand?"
Danny, Swift, Shadeclaw, Mira, Jade, and Jake answered in unison:
"Yes, Staff Sergeant."
Sorn narrowed his eyes. "You will not face controlled enemies. You will not face predictable patterns. Whatever happened on that moon may still be happening. This is NOT a test. This is a mission."
He gestured sharply.
"FOLLOW."
They followed.
Down two corridors. Through a reinforced door. Into a hangar so massive it silenced every breath.
Rows of Switchblades stretched across the bay—sleek as predators, dark hulls gleaming under neon blue lights, wings curved like reverse scythes ready to slice through vacuum.
Jake gasped. "These are so cool I could cry."
Jade slapped him on the back. "Cry later. Fly now."
Sorn marched ahead.
"These are Switchblades. Four-person capacity. Cloaking capabilities. Hard-light shields. Precision engines. Stealth priority."
He jabbed at one ship.
"This will be Fireteam Sunlance's vessel. Codename: Sunstrike."
Danny touched the hull and golden sparks rippled faintly across the plating.
Swift stepped inside, hands already on the controls, scanning systems.
Jake tried to climb in, tripped, and got stuck halfway through the hatch.
Jade pulled him free by the ankles.
Sorn pointed at a second ship.
"And this is Fireteam Shadowgale's vessel. Codename: Nightwind."
Shadeclaw walked around the ship reverently, tail flicking. Mira placed a hand against the hull—and felt the engine hum like a sleeping animal waiting to wake. Jade hopped into the cockpit turret and got yelled at immediately.
Sorn stood before them, face grave.
"You want to be Buddies? This is your chance. Out there is the real work. Out there is where it matters."
He turned to leave, then stopped.
"And a warning."
He glared at them one by one.
"Training will not get easier after this mission. It will get harder. MUCH harder. If you fail, you will not die. I will kill you myself for embarrassing my program."
Jake fainted on the spot.
Jade caught him without looking away from Sorn.
Sorn grunted and walked off.
An alarm sounded as the hangar bay opened, revealing the cold black void beyond.
Danny climbed into Sunstrike, heart pounding—not from fear, but from something sharper.
Purpose.
Swift strapped in, running pre-flight.
Jake regained consciousness and hyperventilated.
Shadeclaw boarded Nightwind with silent confidence.
Jade flicked switches impatiently.
Mira took the co-pilot seat, her new senses linking instinctively with the engine's hum.
Sorn's voice crackled over comms:
"CADETS… LAUNCH!"
Engines roared.
The Switchblades shot into the void.
Two streaks of burning light heading toward the unknown.
Toward silence.
Toward Outpost Rhombus.
Toward whatever waited in the dark.
Space swallowed them.
The G.A.M.B.I.T. shrank behind them until it became a distant fortress of light drifting through the void. Ahead, the darkness stretched endlessly, pierced only by scattered stars and the faint path plotted on their navigational displays.
Inside the Sunstrike, Danny sat in the pilot's seat gripping the controls. Not because he feared losing control—but because, for the first time, he was responsible for more than his own safety. Flying felt strangely natural. The Switchblade's interface responded to the slightest motion of his fingers, almost as if it sensed the trace of golden energy pulsing beneath his skin.
Swift sat to his right, scanning telemetry readings with practiced precision. "Trajectory is clean. No gravitational anomalies. No distortions. No debris."
Jake, strapped securely into the rear seat, raised a trembling hand. "Are—are we expecting gravitational anomalies?"
"Yes," Swift said without blinking.
Danny added cheerfully, "But probably not today."
"That does not help!"
On the Nightwind, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Shadeclaw flew the ship with unnerving stillness, claws resting lightly on the controls, tail swaying with each micro-adjustment. Where Danny piloted with intuition and curiosity, Shadeclaw piloted like a hunter moving through a forest at night.
Mira sat beside him, her senses attuned to everything—the vibration of the engines, the faint metallic tang of the air vents, the shifting pressure as they moved through space. She could hear the whine of each thruster individually. She could smell Jade's impatience.
Jade, settling into the rear seat, muttered, "This thing better have cup holders. If I'm going to war, I want somewhere to put my protein shake."
"It is reconnaissance," Shadeclaw corrected without looking at him.
"Recon, war, semantics."
Mira smirked—an expression that looked slightly more dangerous now.
The two ships flew side by side in seamless formation. They were small compared to the G.A.M.B.I.T., but in the void of space they felt powerful, alive, like arrows cutting through the infinite expanse.
A ping echoed in the cockpit.
Swift glanced at the display. "Approaching mission zone. Rhombus moon is coming into range within four minutes."
Jake pressed his face against the canopy. "Do we see it yet? Is it haunted? It feels haunted."
Danny kept his tone steady. "Moons aren't haunted."
Swift corrected him. "Statistically, some are."
Jake shrieked again.
In Nightwind, Mira opened the long-range scanner. Her enhanced senses couldn't reach across space, of course, but her instincts coiled, uneasy. Shadeclaw noticed immediately.
"You feel something."
"Not a threat," she said slowly. "Not exactly. But something's… wrong."
Shadeclaw didn't question it. "Trust instinct."
Jade leaned between their seats. "Are we talking wrong like 'broken door,' or wrong like 'evil cosmic entity wiping out life as we know it'?"
Mira's answer was quiet.
"Somewhere in between."
The first sight of the Rhombus moon appeared as a pale gray curve against the void.
A dead world. No atmosphere. No vegetation. Bare rock and dust.
The outpost itself—normally bright with energy fields and landing beacons—was dark. Completely dark.
Swift ran a systems check. "No power signatures. No life signs. No defense grid."
Jake's voice cracked. "This is bad. This is so bad. This is—"
Danny silenced him with a gesture. "We don't know what happened yet."
Shadeclaw's voice came through comms from Nightwind. Calm. Unnervingly calm.
"There is no scent. No activity. No heat. The outpost feels… empty."
"Feels?" Jake squeaked. "You can feel that?"
"Yes."
"That's not comforting!"
Jade chimed in. "Relax, buddy. Worst case scenario, the place exploded and we're here to sweep up rubble."
"That is not better!"
Mira scanned the outpost again. "There's structural integrity. No signs of external breach. No char marks from weapons. No hull loss. Everything looks… intact."
Danny frowned deeply. "But no one's answering. No power. No movement."
Swift's voice sharpened. "Possibilities: catastrophic power failure, environmental system collapse, mass exodus, forced evacuation—"
"Or something inside," Mira finished quietly.
The silence that followed pressed into all of them.
Shadeclaw broke it.
"Approach."
The two Switchblades descended toward the outpost landing zone, dust lifting in pale clouds as thrusters flared. The landing pads should have activated automatically, but remained dark. The ships settled onto cold metal platforms with a hollow echo.
Danny took a breath. "Sunlance disembarking."
"Shadowgale disembarking," Mira echoed.
The hatches opened.
Silence greeted them.
Cold, heavy silence.
The outpost stretched before them—gray structures, gleaming metal corridors, vast storage units, a central command tower—all pristine, untouched, undamaged…
And completely dead.
No lights.
No hum.
No atmosphere generators.
No warning sirens.
Just stillness.
Jake whispered, "Where is everybody?"
No one answered.
Danny stepped forward. The air tasted stale even through the suit filtration. His heartbeat echoed loud in his ears.
Swift scanned the entrance. "Door integrity intact. Manual override possible."
Shadeclaw knelt, sniffing the ground. "No blood. No signs of struggle. But something passed through here." His voice softened. "Something quiet."
Mira's claws extended slightly, unbidden. She didn't retract them.
"Stay close," she said.
Jade cracked his neck. "Finally. A real challenge."
Danny placed his hand on the sealed door.
His golden energy flickered—controlled, precise—and the lock unlatched with a soft click.
The door slid open.
A cold draft rolled out, heavy with dust and the faint, unsettling smell of abandonment.
Jake shivered. "Nope. I hate this. Hate it. Hate everything."
Swift stepped forward. "Mission parameters: survey, assess, report. No reckless action."
Danny nodded. "Right. We move slow. No rushing."
Shadeclaw slipped into the shadows. "I scout."
Mira shook her head. "Not alone. We go two teams. Sunlance left sector. Shadowgale right."
The team split.
Danny led Swift and Jake down the left corridor. Their lamps illuminated pristine floors, untouched equipment, chairs left perfectly aligned. It looked like everyone had simply stood up in the middle of the day and walked away.
Jake whispered, "It's creepy. Why is it so creepy? This shouldn't be creepy!"
Swift paused. "Because human pattern recognition is disturbed by environments that appear functional but lack expected stimuli. It's psychological dissonance."
Jake blinked. "I regret asking."
On the right sector, Mira, Shadeclaw, and Jade moved like a shadow swarm.
Mira's senses tugged at her constantly.
Footsteps had been here.
Movement.
People.
But the trail ended abruptly.
As if they had simply vanished.
Jade flicked on a scanning beacon. "Heat signatures are cold. No bodies. No damage. Nothing."
Shadeclaw's hackles rose. "Too still."
Mira inhaled deeply.
Her new senses stretched outward, sweeping the corridor—
Then froze.
There.
Faint.
A whisper of something wrong.
Not scent.
Not sound.
Something deeper.
"Shade…" she murmured. "Do you feel that?"
Shadeclaw's eyes narrowed. "Yes."
"What is it?" Jade asked.
They didn't answer.
Because they didn't know.
Yet.
But something was here.
Something that did not belong.
And as the six cadets stepped deeper into the dead outpost, the shadows seemed to shift with them—slow, quiet, as if something in the dark had finally noticed they had arrived.