The man stood taller than her, blond hair neatly combed, green eyes sharp as glass. A trimmed goatee, a strict expression, the long green jacket of authority. His boots thudded against the floor as he stepped closer.
"Tee Edna Char of District Ninety-Nine, Mercene," he said, voice low but unyielding. "I'm here to escort you to Primus Mid-Guard."
Her legs tensed to bolt, but his hand clamped around her arm like iron.
"There's no need for… uncooperation," he warned. His voice dropped heavier. "Please. Let's make this as simple as possible."
Her heartbeat pounded so hard it hurt, each throb echoing in her skull. Suddenly, even her own breathing sounded loud—ragged, uneven, impossible to ignore.
The soldiers shifted. Their blasters gleamed, humming faintly. One shot would burn a hole straight through her. She swallowed hard, grimacing at the thought.
Yes, she was right. They knew her darkest secret.
The weight of years of buried lies pressed down on her, suffocating. Her mind went to Tetra's death—how it all connected. They must have seen the lab, the notes, her involvement. And now Tetra was gone, leaving her to face everything alone. Completely alone.
Not long after, Tee found herself packing under watchful eyes. She shoved items into her bags, cursing silently, making sure to hide certain things with care.
Minutes later, they led her to the roof, where a sleek military jet waited, its engines keening like something alive and restless, ready to wrench her life into a direction she had never chosen.
The sight nailed it in her mind. They knew she was covert. They weren't rescuing her. They were transporting her to some fortified prison where interrogation and torture awaited.
Tears welled as she tilted her face toward the sinking sun. Its warmth barely reached her, the air already cooling as curfew crept near. Even with her jacket zipped tight, she shivered. It felt as though the coming night wasn't just the world's curfew, but her fate folding into darkness. Her stomach twisted—the food she'd eaten earlier long gone, yet bile threatened to rise.
A throat cleared behind her. Someone stood too close, watching, waiting.
The man.
With no choice, she moved forward.
Inside, the jet was blinding white, frigid air conditioning blasting from hidden vents. Rows of seats stretched before her, spaced far apart, each one occupied by a teenager her age. All of them sat by the windows, silent, as if chained by invisible fear.
Were they covert X-victims too? None bore a crest. Instead, they wore Mid-Guard uniforms—each a different cut, a different color. But if so, where was Jack? He should have been there also if that was so.
Relief flickered in her chest. Perhaps she was getting sent to a new Mid-Guard afterall. At least she wasn't alone. If she was going down, better to go down with others than vanish in solitude.
She barely had time to study them before the jet shuddered beneath her feet. Heart racing, she dropped into a seat and buckled herself in.
Her eyes widened—literally. Activating her second sight, she forced herself to take in every detail.
First, a girl with jet-black hair woven into a long braid over her right shoulder. Shorter locks framed her round face, the ends dyed a shocking crimson that matched her uniform. Tee blinked twice—no illusion.
Hair dye was taboo in nearly every District, outright forbidden in the Mid-Guard. Madness. The girl gnawed her pink nails while staring into her empty lap, clearly lost in thoughts heavy enough to crush her.
Next, a boy in deep purple, absorbed in something on a sleek black device. Reading. Reading at a time like that. Tee's mind went blank with disbelief. His bangs, neat and obsidian, swept across his forehead to reveal one sharp eyebrow. Then she saw the scars etched across his face—harsh, undeniable. Her nausea clawed back, bitter and relentless.
Across from him, another girl, her eyes shut, curly shoulder-length hair falling like a veil across her features. Dressed in dark green, she seemed peaceful, but Tee wasn't fooled. Peace in a place like that could only be a mask—or surrender.
And finally, a boy in dull yellow, crumbs dusting his lap as he stuffed potato chips into his mouth, gaze locked—not on the window, but on her. On the back of her head. The stare pierced so sharply she abandoned her second sight and clenched her eyes shut, pain flaring behind them.
The jet lurched. Through her window, the city's lights blurred into streaks of green and then—nothing familiar. A sudden sweep of wilderness replaced it. She gasped. Had they teleported? The low murmur from the others confirmed they'd felt it too.
A violent jolt rocked the jet, metal shrieking as its nose tore away with the pilot and Commander still strapped inside. A hurricane of air roared through the cabin, ripping at clothes and hair as the craft pitched downward. Screams ripped through the fuselage, drowned by the howl of the wind.
Tee's eyes snapped open. Panic seized her chest as the world tilted — the endless forest below swelled larger and larger, no longer a distant blur but a rushing sea of green ready to swallow them whole. Her hair whipped across her face, voices around her breaking into raw terror.
Another wrenching shudder—steel screamed—and a fresh section of the jet peeled away. Through the jagged gap came a nightmare: a colossal maw, lined with rings upon rings of teeth, the air itself trembling as it surged closer. The monster was not just attacking the jet; it was ready to devour it whole.
On instinct, the five teens tore free of their seatbelts and hurled themselves into the open sky. Now there was nothing—no chute, no hope—just the thousand-foot drop and the earth screaming up to meet them.
Tee fell with the others, her own scream joining theirs, trees filling her vision. But something deeper gnawed at her, louder than the rush of air: that wasn't a dream. The impossible was real. A Kaiju had torn their world apart, and she was staring it in the teeth.
Her hands flared suddenly with blue light, raw and blinding. Power surged through her—but too late. The ground surged up, unyielding and merciless. The last thing she knew was the glow on her palms before everything collapsed into darkness.
Then—nothing. No pain, no impact, only a void that swallowed sound and thought alike. Out of that blackness crept sensation: a whisper of wind against her skin, cool and alive. Breath returned to her lungs, and with it, awareness.
Tee savored the cool air brushing against her skin, goosebumps rippling across her arms in delicate waves. It was the kind of breeze she used to anticipate in the early hours of patrol, crisp and invigorating, clearing the fog from her mind.
For a heartbeat she thought she was back in her dorm, the wind sneaking through a cracked window. But when her gaze drifted toward where her alarm clock should have been, she froze—there weren't even that many windows in her room.
Perplexed, she pushed herself upright. The comfort of her mattress gave way to an overwhelming revelation: that was no dorm. She was in a cavernous hall, lined with rows of pristine, white-sheeted beds stretching into the distance like silent sentinels.
Her eyes snagged on the far wall. Two towering doors loomed there, and sprawled beneath them was the curly-haired boy, eyes wide awake. Beside him, the other boy lay awake, his half-lidded eyes fixed on the ceiling, his face carved in an expression Tee couldn't decipher—something between thought and emptiness.
The atmosphere pressed down on her, thick and uncanny, like the damp weight of a rainy day that refused to break.
She sank back into bed, but the moment she shut her eyes, flashes surged through her mind—the monster's jagged maw ripping the jet apart, the freefall, the screaming wind. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She remembered the ground rushing up, the certainty of death—and yet there she was. Alive.
Turning her head, she studied the others. The teens who had tumbled into the void with her were stirring as well, eyes open, faces etched with the same disoriented fear. The shared realization steadied her, if only slightly.
Tee exhaled a shaky sigh. It's over. The worst was behind.
She let herself sink deeper into the warm indentation of the bed, pressing her cheek against the pillow's plush embrace. Her gaze lingered on the curly-haired boy.
Her eyes traced the detail of him: the mess of dark brown curls, brittle and dry as though he'd drowned them in cheap shampoo and abandoned them to the air. Tee lifted her hand absently, feeling the rough brush of her own hair against her neck. Same.
Minutes trickled by. Then—creak.
The sound splintered the stillness, jerking her upright. The massive doors groaned open, and through them strode a tall figure. Blond hair, razor-straight; green eyes sharp as glass. His boots struck the floor in deliberate rhythm.
The Commander had arrived.