Phase Three did not announce itself with sirens.
It arrived quietly.
A missing student here.
A commuter who never came home.
A hospital transfer that vanished between floors.
No explosions.
No witnesses.
Just absences.
HÉLIOS had learned.
The sanctuary no longer slept.
Its corridors shifted constantly now, stone folding and unfolding to accommodate bodies it had never been meant to shelter. Symbols glowed at all hours, some steady, others flickering like warning signs.
Too many signals.
Too many awakenings.
Daniella stood before the central platform, staring at the map projected above it. New points blinked into existence every few minutes—faint, unstable, scattered across the city and beyond.
— That's the third in an hour, Aeris muttered. — And that one's barely holding together.
A pulse of red light flickered, then dimmed.
— Or not, Pyra said grimly.
Lina sat nearby, knees pulled to her chest, hands wrapped in insulated bands Terra had fashioned for her. Small sparks still escaped when she got nervous.
Which was often.
— They took him near a transit station, she whispered. — No alarms. No cameras. Like he just… disappeared.
Daniella clenched her jaw.
— That's how Phase Three works.
Kaël stood apart, his focus split between the map and the shadows curling restlessly at his feet.
— HÉLIOS isn't sweeping anymore, he said. — They're selecting.
Terra crossed his arms.
— Based on what?
Kaël didn't answer immediately.
He adjusted the projection. Patterns emerged—age ranges, locations, awakening intensity.
— Instability windows, he finally said. — The moment just before or just after awakening.
Nyx materialized beside the platform, eyes narrowed.
— When they're weakest.
— And most valuable, Pyra added.
Daniella felt a chill.
— They're not killing them.
— No, Kaël agreed. — Not yet.
The word hung in the air.
HÉLIOS BLACK SITE — UNKNOWN LOCATION
The room was white.
Not clean white.
Not sterile.
Functional white.
A young boy sat restrained in the center, electrodes lining his temples, chest rising too fast. His hands sparked erratically, arcs of electricity snapping uselessly against suppression cuffs.
He was crying.
— Please… I didn't do anything…
Behind reinforced glass, Elias Korr observed in silence.
— Begin synchronization stress test, he said calmly.
A technician hesitated.
— Sir, neural feedback could—
— Proceed.
The machine activated.
The boy screamed.
Data spiked.
And somewhere far beneath the city, Daniella gasped.
She dropped to one knee without warning.
— Daniella! Pyra caught her before she hit the floor.
Light flared violently around her, chaotic, burning.
— It's happening again, Daniella choked. — Someone's in pain—Light, but twisted—forced—
Kaël was already beside her, shadow snapping into place around her like a brace.
— Focus on me.
She grabbed his arm.
— They're experimenting.
The sanctuary shuddered.
Nyx's voice sharpened.
— That wasn't just resonance.
Aeris stared at the map.
— One of the signals just went dark.
Silence.
Lina let out a small, broken sound.
— That was him, wasn't it?
No one answered.
Daniella pushed herself upright, trembling.
— We can't wait anymore.
Terra frowned.
— We don't know where they're holding them.
— But we know why, Daniella shot back. — They're trying to recreate synchronization artificially.
Kaël's expression hardened.
— Or break it into something controllable.
Daniella met his gaze.
— Then we hit back.
— Careful, Pyra warned. — That's what they want.
— No, Daniella said quietly. — They want me to hesitate.
She turned to the others.
— I can feel them. Not clearly—but enough. Like echoes under glass.
Nyx tilted her head.
— You want to follow the pain.
— I want to follow the truth.
Kaël stepped closer.
— If you do this, you expose yourself again.
— I know.
— And if they're ready this time?
Daniella didn't look away.
— Then we learn faster.
The sanctuary pulsed, brighter than before.
As if agreeing.
They moved before HÉLIOS could predict it.
Not as a strike team.
As shadows.
Nyx bent reality around them, masking their exit. Aeris fractured air currents to scatter surveillance. Terra reshaped access routes behind them as they passed, erasing trails.
They emerged miles away, in an industrial zone officially listed as decommissioned.
Unofficially alive.
Daniella felt it immediately.
— Down there, she whispered.
An old freight elevator stood at the center of the compound. No markings. No guards.
Too clean.
— That's not a prison, Aeris said. — That's a lab.
Kaël nodded.
— Black site.
Pyra's flames ignited, tight and controlled.
— Then we don't knock.
They descended.
The doors opened onto white.
Too white.
Alarms began screaming instantly.
— Unauthorized presence detected.
HÉLIOS units poured in from hidden corridors.
— Engage!
The fight was brutal.
Efficient.
Pyra cut through suppression squads with precise bursts of heat. Terra collapsed entire hallways to control flow. Aeris moved faster than sight, disarming units before they could fire.
Nyx erased cameras, doors, even soldiers from perception.
And Daniella—
She felt them.
Rooms filled with fear.
Pain.
Light distorted by machines.
— This way!
They found the chamber.
Children. Teenagers. Restrained. Connected to devices humming with stolen energy.
Some unconscious.
Some screaming.
— Shut it down, Daniella ordered.
Kaël slammed his shadow into the control core.
Darkness flooded the system.
Machines failed.
Lights died.
The captives cried out as suppression fields collapsed.
— Easy, Pyra said gently, crouching beside a girl wreathed in flickering flame. — It's over.
But it wasn't.
The room trembled.
A low-frequency pulse activated.
— Countermeasure, Kaël snarled. — Everyone back!
Too late.
The pulse hit Daniella directly.
She screamed.
Not in pain.
In fracture.
Her Light split—reflected—amplified—
Kaël grabbed her—
And the bond snapped violently into focus.
Light and Darkness collided, not destructively—
—but harmonized.
The pulse shattered.
The facility imploded inward.
They barely escaped.
Above ground, smoke rose into the night.
They had freed twelve.
Lost one.
Daniella stood apart, shaking.
— I felt him die, she whispered. — Before we got there.
Kaël joined her.
— That wasn't your failure.
She looked at him, eyes burning.
— It means we're too late.
Nyx approached quietly.
— No. — It means Phase Three just became Phase Four.
Aeris exhaled.
— They wanted data. They got it.
Pyra clenched her fists.
— And so did we.
Daniella straightened.
— They're not gods.
— No, Kaël agreed.
— They're afraid.
Somewhere far away, Elias Korr watched the ruins of his black site burn.
Data scrolling endlessly.
Synchronization confirmed.
Emotional catalyst identified.
Subject Daniella — Priority Absolute.
Korr smiled again.
— Now we're speaking the same language.
The war had crossed a line.
And neither side could step back anymore.