The void breathed around him—black, endless, silent.

  A silence too heavy to be natural.

  Lior staggered forward, ribs screaming beneath his touch, blood sliding warm across his chin. His lungs burned. His knees shook. Still, he forced himself upright.

  Then—light.

  A spark in the dark.

  Eyes. Crimson. Burning like coals. Detached. Cold. Watching.

  A voice followed—deep and warped, as if reality itself bent to let it through.

  “Your prophecy… is my prophecy. Let’s see if the ending is the same.”

  The air split—KRSHHH!

  A storm of blows fell upon him—too fast to follow, too brutal to block. Each strike rattled bone and ripped the breath from his chest. He raised his arms, but nothing held. Another hit broke through—then another, and another.

  And then—one crushing strike.

  The kind meant to end it.

  THOOM!

  His body hurled back. The ground wasn’t there—then it was.

  It rose to meet him with a crack of agony—KRAAAM!

  He gasped, eyes wide. Nothing. Nothing but those eyes—cold, patient, waiting.

  They didn’t blink.

  They didn’t leave.

  They promised something his body already feared.

  The final blow rushed toward him—

  ?

  Lior jolted upright.

  Breath tore from his lungs—HAAAH! Sweat soaked his shirt. The crimson glare still burned behind his eyes, so real it left his chest trembling.

  Moonlight painted the dorm silver, sharpening steel walls into something harsher. Ayasha and Cael lay still in their beds, breathing evenly, unaware of his unrest. The room itself felt too quiet—as though it held its breath with him.

  His hand lifted slowly, trembling. He stared at his fingers twitching faintly in the dark.

  “…Just a dream.”

  But the weight pressing down on him said otherwise.

  The dorm was still heavy with sleep when the door creaked open.

  CRRNNNK.

  Titan’s shadow filled the frame.

  “You’ve slept enough,” his voice cut low. “Gear up. Training starts now.”

  Ayasha groaned, rolling onto her back. “Veritas never changes,” she muttered. “Even after four years away.”

  Cael blinked awake, pushing his glasses higher with a tired sigh. “Guess freedom spoiled us.”

  Lior wiped the sweat from his face. His ribs still ached—memory or phantom pain, he couldn’t tell.

  But there was no time to dwell. Titan was already moving.

  ?

  The training hall opened before them—scarred, cracked, ancient. Steel beams curved overhead like a cathedral built for war.

  Titan stepped forward, boots striking hard.

  THUD… THUD.

  “Watch closely.”

  His presence shifted.

  Yellow twitched in his eyes.

  KRRRRAUUMMM!

  The ground shivered.

  Air warped in a crushing pulse. The weight slammed into their chests, pressing breath from their lungs. Cracks spider-webbed across the floor.

  Lior staggered back, teeth clenched against the invisible pressure. Ayasha braced. Cael dropped to one knee, glasses slipping.

  Then—silence.

  The heaviness vanished, leaving the hall strangely light.

  “A Niche isn’t a trick,” Titan said flatly. “It’s your will—forced into the world. But your bodies aren’t ready. Not yet.”

  He crossed his arms.

  “Right now, you can only use your Niches in sparks. Short bursts. Push too far, and your body breaks before the Niche does.”

  His gaze swept them—hard, assessing.

  “Train the parts of yourself that carry it. Ayasha—your strength comes from motion. Arms. Legs. Core. Push endurance until failure feels like breath.”

  Ayasha smirked through the sweat already dripping down her brow. “So basically—run until I puke?”

  Titan shot her a cold look. “Run until you stop asking questions.”

  His eyes turned to Cael.

  “Yours is different. Your body gains strength, but your Niche bends thought. That means you must hold still even when chaos screams at you. Train your calm. Train your mind not to break.”

  Cael’s jaw set. He dropped cross-legged without a word, breath steadying.

  Titan turned last to Lior.

  “Rei tells me you’ve activated two. One mental. One physical.”

  Lior’s chest tightened.

  “Slipstream—mental. Instinct, perception, focus. The other—Pulse Break—physical. Pure force. One tests your body. The other your head. Train both, but remember: if one falters, the other collapses.”

  Lior nodded, though unease scratched at his ribs.

  Ayasha’s aura flared faintly as she sprinted laps—SHWOOM! BAM!

  Each stride sharper than the last.

  Cael sat trembling, veins faintly lit. Zrrrp … ping.

  Lior raised his hand. A shimmer sparked around his fingers—TUNN! A small pulse rippled from his palm, his hand shaking from the effort.

  “Strain it,” Titan said. “Sharpen it. The stronger your connection to your body, the longer your Niche lasts. But don’t mistake this for muscle. It always takes more than it gives.”

  Lior hesitated. “What about… Awakening?”

  Titan looked at him, unreadable. “Pointless now. Don’t ask about the mountain when you can’t stand on the hill. Control what you have. That’s the only step that matters.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Silence lingered—until the intercom crackled to life.

  BZZZT.

  “All cadets report to Hall Sigma immediately. High-level mission briefing in progress.”

  Ayasha skidded to a halt, panting.

  Cael’s eyes snapped open. Lior froze mid-breath.

  Titan folded his arms. “…Let’s move.”

  ?

  The corridors opened into a vast amphitheater—steel and light fused into a temple of war. Holographic monitors glowed above, each one large enough to swallow a field. Rows upon rows of cadets filled the space, their boots echoing in unison.

  For once, Veritas’ cold gave way to awe. The place felt sacred.

  A voice filled every corner.

  “Since the founding of Veritas, we’ve known Potestas held weapons of this scale. But until now, we could never pinpoint their location.”

  The screens shifted—CRRRMMM!—revealing storm clouds writhing, lightning swallowing whole landscapes.

  “We have isolated their signal and found not one, but two weather machines. One at the North Pole. One buried in the South.”

  Two colossal satellites blazed across the displays, thunder rolling through the hall.

  “All we need is to disable one. Take out either installation, and Potestas’ control collapses.”

  “This mission belongs to the strongest squad. But strength must be proven.”

  “To decide who earns it, we are initiating a points-based trial system. Compete. Win. Advance. Fail—and learn your limits.”

  The pause that followed was heavier than thunder.

  “This isn’t a sport. This is selection.”

  A chair scraped—SKRRCH.

  Valor stood, smirk sharp as glass. “Then there’s no need for a meeting. Edge is the strongest. Everyone knows it.”

  The announcer stayed calm. “Then prove it.”

  The amphitheater erupted in low murmurs as the announcer continued.

  “Now report to the engineering lab for your official Veritas uniforms and gear. Customization permitted. Gear will be marked by your captain.”

  Cadets spilled into the corridors like a tide.

  Snapback grinned at Sunstrike.

  “You pickin’ my uniform, Lava Lily? I trust your fashion sense.”

  BONK! Her fist crashed into the back of his head.

  “You already have a uniform, dummy.”

  Róisín Flannery — Codename: Captain Vitalis — brushed by, ginger hair gleaming under the lights. Her cropped white coat swayed, emerald pendant catching every flicker of motion—strength wrapped in elegance.

  “Ryo, wait! I want something minimalist. Dignified. Think you can manage that?”

  “Too much pressure!” Snapback laughed, shot away.

  “Coward,” she muttered.

  ?

  Teams poured in one after another.

  Pulse stumbled in, Speedy and Hiroshi starry-eyed.

  “Seraphs are heavenly…”

  Perma dragged them back. “Eyes off. Focus.”

  Then she arrived.

  Zephyra Virelle — Codename: Captain Seraph — didn’t walk; she glided. Every step drew light. The air stilled, conversation dying on cue. Command radiated from her without a word.

  Then came iron.

  Varric Kaelthorn — Codename: Captain Ironclad — moved like a fortress in motion. His steps hit like hammers, uniform immaculate, scar carved deep. The air grew dense as he passed, silence bending around him. His cadets followed like chained beasts.

  Next—shadows.

  Ganbold T?m?rbaatar — Codename: Captain Null — marched with eyes fixed forward, matte-black uniform stripped of insignia. His cadets trailed like ghosts—one small and silent trailing behind. The other two laughing mockingly.. Null didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.

  “Wait.”

  Titan stopped Lior, Ayasha, and Cael at the lab doors, arms folded.

  “This lab is full of glitter. That’s bait. Don’t chase flash—chase function.”

  “Your Niche is your life. Gear should protect it. Enhance it. If it doesn’t… you’ve already lost.”

  The doors hissed open—PSSHHHHT.

  Light flooded through.

  The lab gleamed—walls alive with circuits, racks of armor pulsing faint blue. Drones hovered like vultures waiting to feed.

  Then—

  Aria Clarke — Codename: A.C. — exploded into her lab from the back, goggles bouncing, braids flying, sparks crackling at her fingertips.

  “Welcome to the Current Lab Experience!” she shouted, voice echoing. “Where brilliance meets voltage, and every breakthrough leaves a little burn!”

  Her twin followed at half the speed and none of the enthusiasm.

  Daria Clarke — Codename: D.C. — trudged in behind her, tablet in hand, tone flat enough to short-circuit joy itself.

  “She means,” she said dryly, “please keep your hands off the prototypes before they decide to bite you.”

  A.C. threw an arm around her sister, lip quirked.

  “Now—prepare yourselves for the moment you’ve all been waiting for!”

  D.C. sighed. “Oh no.”

  They faced each other, stepping in sync.

  “Three…” A.C. grinned.

  “…Two…” D.C. muttered.

  “One!” they shouted together.

  Both raised their hands, curling their arms into matching C’s.

  Both index fingers touched the others—Zzzzzzzzt!

  “Innovation with current!” A.C. yelled proudly.

  D.C. blinked through her embarrassing stance. “Why,” she asked flatly, “do I let you talk me into these things?”

  A.C. laughed, undeterred. “Because other cadets love these things!”

  They turned toward the cadets.

  Every single one stared blankly.

  Silence.

  Even a drone beeped once—and powered off.

  “…Tough crowd,” A.C. whispered.

  ?

  After the awkward intro, the cadets and captains fanned through the lab, scanning the racks and armor.

  A.C. zipped toward Lior, eyes bright.

  “You’re Lior, right?! Your Niche signature is insane! Can I scan it? I won’t blow up anything! Probably!”

  Ayasha muttered, “She’s going to blow something up.”

  Cael crouched near a charger. “You built all this yourselves?”

  “Every circuit,” D.C. replied. “We don’t trust systems we didn’t design.”

  A.C. winked. “That’s why Veritas runs on Current!”

  Lior’s fingers brushed a reinforced glove.

  A.C. leaned closer.

  “Ooooh—crimson. That feels like your color. Want me to make it that way?”

  Lior blinked. The word snagged somewhere deep.

  “…Crimson, huh? That’s—”

  Reality fractured.

  SHHRAAASSSHH!

  Distorted lines spread outward. His eyes caught a faint gold spark—

  and behind it, in the black void of memory—

  Two eyes stared back.

  Not red.

  Deeper.

  Crimson. Cold. Patient. Waiting.

  They did not blink.

  They did not leave.

  They stared through him—crimson and cruel—

  as if already certain how his story would end.

  End of Chapter 19