Chapter 18: Sunder Squad

  The office of Zeal was a temple of cold glass and high-tech silence. Inside the inner sanctum, Dr. Pierce—a man whose sharp American features were softened only by the light of a flickering holographic prayer—knelt with his palms pressed together.

  "Daddy, are you busy?"

  Pierce opened his eyes, the reflection of a small boy appearing on the polished marble floor. He beckoned his son closer. "Come here, son. Pray with me."

  The conversation was in quiet, melodic English, a stark contrast to the muffled shouts and rhythmic thud-thud-thud of heavy boots outside the reinforced doors.

  "Amen," Pierce whispered, finishing the prayer.

  "Are we going home, Dad?" the boy asked, his eyes wide with the innocent curiosity of a child who didn't understand the world was burning.

  "Yes, we are," Pierce said, his voice steady. "But Dad made friends with some very bad people. And now, the good guys are after him."

  "Are you not a good guy, Dad?"

  Pierce offered a sad, thin smile. "To you, I am."

  The doors hissed open. A soldier clad in heavy Zeal composite armor bolted in. "Mister Pierce, we need to go. Now."

  "It’s 'Doctor,'" Pierce corrected, his tone shifting to a flawless, icy Hangul. He stood up, smoothing his suit. "Take my son."

  "Yes—Doctor."

  "Dad?" the boy cried out as the soldier hoisted him up.

  "I’ll be with you, son. Go."

  As the soldier disappeared through a back elevator with the boy, the "good guys" arrived.

  The hallway outside was a meat grinder.

  Haruka didn't walk; she materialized. Her eyes glowed a vibrant, playful blue as she leaned against a wall, a smirk playing on her lips. Two Zeal melee specialists lunged at her, their energized swords whistling through the air—only to pass right through her torso as if she were made of smoke.

  "Hi...," she chirped.

  The soldiers in front opened fire with their blasters. The energy beams zipped through Haruka’s intangible chest, lances of light striking the two soldiers behind her. They dropped instantly, killed by their own friendly fire.

  Haruka lunged, spinning like a prima ballerina. The blades on her ankles glinted, catching the light as she delivered two precise kicks to the throats of her attackers. "Swish! That was fun!"

  On the other side of the corridor, Kanghyuk was a hurricane. He moved with brutal efficiency, his hand-axes rhythmic as they carved through armor and bone. When a fresh squad of reinforcements charged, he didn't retreat. He slammed both axes into the ground, his eyes flaring blue.

  A massive kinetic shockwave ripped through the floor. Soldiers were hurled backward, the sheer force of the impact cracking ribs and shattering helmets.

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  A heavy Mecha unit rumbled into the center of the hall, its Gatling cannons rotating toward Haruka and Kanghyuk.

  Zip.

  A blue-ish blur.

  Blink—a stab to a pilot’s neck. Blink—a blade through a power core. Blink—the massive Mecha was bisected by two obsidian daggers. It collapsed in a chorus of tiny, sparking bursts.

  Seonho landed in the center of the wreckage, flicking the blood from his daggers.

  "Pierce is probably still in the office," Kanghyuk shouted, breathing hard. "I’ll go right!"

  "I’ll go—" Zip. Seonho reappeared behind him. "—left." Zip.

  Kanghyuk laughed, shaking head as he sprinted right. Behind them, Haruka was standing over a pile of groaning soldiers, holding her phone up. "Smile for the camera! I’m sending this to Rahee!"

  Kanghyuk kicked in the office door, shockwave primed in his palms. He found nothing but a lingering scent of expensive cologne. "Dammit! Empty!"

  Meanwhile, at the end of a dark, narrow storage corridor, Dr. Pierce stood alone. He wasn't running. He was adjusting his cufflinks, waiting.

  Zip.

  Seonho appeared ten feet away, daggers reversed in a lethal grip. "Ya know, Pierce. You always hated Flux. What did we ever do to you?"

  "Ignored my work," Pierce replied with a smug, American drawl.

  "Well," Seonho countered, "we have better tech."

  Pierce’s smile widened. He switched to English, his voice smooth and condescending. "But have poor taste."

  Seonho’s lip curled. "You’re going down, asshole," he barked in rough, accented English.

  Pierce reached into his pocket and dropped a small, glowing disc onto the floor. It hummed with a sickly blue light. "Alright then."

  He drew two collapsible batons, the tips crackling with Aion Energy.

  Pierce moved with the grace of a trained fencer. He wasn't just fast; he was precise. Clack! A baton caught Seonho’s wrist. Clack! Another struck his shoulder. Seonho tried to blink away, but the moment his eyes glowed, the disc on the floor pulsed.

  A massive electrical surge ripped through Seonho’s body. He collapsed, seizing as the Nullifier Aura punished his nervous system for trying to use his gift.

  Pierce didn't hesitate. He rained down blows with the batons, each strike calculated to disable. Finally, Pierce grabbed a heavy metal shelf and heaved, toppling the massive unit onto Seonho, pinning him to the floor.

  Pierce exhaled, checked his watch, and straightened his suit. He walked away into the darkness without looking back.

  ***

  Deep in the Outlands woods, Yaejin and Jiwon trekked through the underbrush. Jiwon’s eyes were glued to a tablet, tracking the faint, ghostly coordinates Gaeul had left behind.

  "So—do you think this can help us rebuild Flux? Or is it a weapon to defeat the traitor?" Yaejin asked, her voice weary.

  "Just say her name, Yaejin," Jiwon said softly.

  Yaejin rolled her eyes. "Wonjung. Happy?"

  "Honestly," Jiwon laughed, "I think Gaeul-unnie is just sending us on a weird scavenger hunt."

  "That does sound like her," Yaejin admitted, her expression softening.

  "What was it like?" Jiwon asked after a moment of silence. "Facing Wonjung like that?"

  "Terrifying. Gut-wrenching. I wanted to puke."

  "What was she to you, really?"

  Yaejin slowed her pace, looking at the canopy above. "She was like a sister. I think I influenced her a lot. She used to ask me to teach her everything... she was confident to the world, but a softie to me. She was one of those people I knew I would die for just to make sure she keeps breathing. Being her friend... it was fun while it lasted."

  "She was nice to me, too," Jiwon whispered. "Being her enemy still doesn't feel real."

  "Oh, it will be," Yaejin said, her eyes turning cold.

  ***

  At the Resistance camp, the air was filled with the sound of wooden staves striking.

  "Stance formation! Hit! Hit! Ha!" Leeseo shouted, leading a line of trainees.

  San watched from the shade, his arms crossed. Rin approached him, leaning against a post. "Any promise yet?"

  "Eunchae is talented," San noted.

  Across the field, Eunchae surreptitiously flicked the ear of the trainee in front of her. When he whirled around, she was already back in her stance, looking around, joining him as if it wasn't her.

  "She's good, but immature," Rin sighed.

  San scoffed. "I remember a girl who used to yell 'blurgh' at the Council Headquarters."

  Rin laughed. "She changed, San."

  "War changes everyone," San said, his voice dropping to a serious register. "But in refuge, when we go home, we should never forget who we really are. I once let myself spiral into my emotions... I lost myself. I wasn't loved. I had to change that." He looked at her with a rare, genuine smile.

  San turned his attention back to the line. He noticed Leeseo’s shoulders were hunched, her movements jagged with stress. He walked over and tapped her shoulder.

  "Leeseo, do you want Seonho to blink back here to find a board? Less stiff. Sturdy."

  "I'm trying!" Leeseo pouted, her face flushing.

  "Listen, everyone!" San yelled, his voice carrying across the camp. "I let my teammates, the Sunder Squad, go on missions without me. Why do you think that is?"

  Eunchae’s hand shot up. "So you can finally listen to your mixtape alone?"

  The crowd erupted in laughter.

  "No," San said, though he cracked a smile. "It’s because of trust. We don't trust people who try. We trust people who do."

  Leeseo looked down at her tonfas, exhaling a long, shaky breath.

  "San, always a poet."

  Ren’s voice was dry, barely rising above the rustle of the leaves as he leaned against the gnarled trunk of a tree. He offered a single, slow nod, his dull eyes fixed on the horizon where San’s words still seemed to hang in the air. "A really tired poet."

  ***

  Back at the Zeal facility, the storage room was silent until the door shimmered. Haruka phased through the metal, her eyes glowing blue—only to be met with a violent ZAP!

  "Ah! Dammit!"

  She stumbled, spotting the disc on the floor. With a sharp hiss, she brought her ankle blade down, crushing the device into scrap metal.

  Seonho groaned, shoving the heavy shelf off his body with Haruka’s help. He sat up, rubbing his bruised abdomen. "How nice. I lost to a doctor and let him get away."

  "Welp," Haruka said, offering him a hand. "The important thing is you're still in one piece."

  Trust.