Lior’s eyes opened to a pale thread of dawn sneaking through the blinds.

  For a moment he didn’t move, just lay there listening to the quiet.

  No pounding pulse. No burning visions. No gold, no crimson.

  Just silence. Just rest.

  For the first time in days, he’d actually slept — without waking in a cold sweat.

  I’m not even tired.

  He swung his legs over the bunk. Across the room, Cael lay neat and straight even in sleep; Ayasha was half-wrapped in her blanket, one arm dangling like she’d been wrestling ghosts.

  Might as well grab a bite if the cafeteria’s open.

  The hall outside hummed with dim lights, steel stretching long and empty.

  At the main junction he slowed. Voices — sharp, heated — leaked around the corner.

  “You are the reason I lost the first trial. Not me!”

  Team Null.

  Gale towering over Selena; Ditto lingering like a shadow.

  “I told you it was a stupid strategy!” Gale snapped. “That’s why we lost!”

  Selena’s voice was quiet, careful. “I… only said not to blitz Ayasha. She’s too fast for that. You can tell looking at her — she’s stronger than before. You can’t beat her the way you used to. If you’d let her move first, you could’ve seen how much she’d grown.”

  Gale’s lip curled. “I didn’t do it because it was a dumb plan. A real fighter adjusts.”

  Selena’s last words slipped out barely above a whisper. “…It wasn’t dumb…”

  Gale’s words cut sharp. “You don’t even have a Niche. I don’t know why the cadet program picked someone like you.”

  Ditto smirked. “You’re not even smart. Pretty dumb, if you ask me.”

  Selena hunched. “…Why are you like this?”

  “We’re not mean. We’re real. Weaklings drag strong people down,” Gale said, jabbing a finger.

  “Let’s go, Ditto.”

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Gale shifted to leave — and slipped.

  THUD.

  “I… meant to do that,” she muttered, face hot.

  Ditto snorted — then stumbled herself. “Yeah… me too.”

  Lior stepped from the corner, hand out. “You okay?”

  She hesitated, then: “…Thanks.”

  He lifted her. Their eyes held, something softer between them.

  “Is she always like that?” he asked.

  “No,” Selena said while wiping tears from her face, “sometimes she’s worse.”

  They shared a faint smirk.

  “I was heading to the cafeteria,” Lior said. “Want to come?”

  “…I should probably work on the next exercise,” she offered softly — automatic.

  “You can do that after. For now, I think you deserve some respectable company.”

  She breathed a ghost of a smile and fell in step.

  Halfway down the hall, pain sparked behind Lior’s eyes. He winced, palm to his temple.

  “Your eyes just flickered,” Selena murmured. “Like your Niche was activating.”

  “Probably overuse. I’m still pretty new at this.”

  “They say your body reacts when you push your Niche too hard. Headaches, fatigue…”

  “Great. Just what I needed,” Lior said, forcing a smile through the pain.

  —

  They entered the cafeteria together. Only Titan and Pulse broke formation, their bench alive with chatter.

  Lior blinked. When did Ayasha and Cael beat me here?

  Team Seraph entered the cafeteria, Replica leading.

  Her voice rang bright as a bell. “Good morning. I am Replica of Team Seraph. It would be an honor to enga—”

  “AYE!” Speedy was already halfway up. “I saved you a spot! Right here!”

  He spun toward Lior with mock authority. “Go sit somewhere else!”

  WHAM! — THUD!

  Ayasha and Perma smacked him down in unison.

  “You can take his seat, Replica,” Perma said.

  “Are you certain?” Replica asked, cheeks pink.

  “Anything… for a goddess…” Speedy groaned from the floor.

  They made room. Replica bowed as she sat.

  “Stop being so formal,” Ayasha muttered. “We’re all friends here.”

  “Am I being formal?”

  Cascade smirked. “That’s just how she talks.”

  Behind them, Kaelin Voss — Codename: “K” — Team Seraph — slid a tray down, folding into the space with quiet confidence. Strong, grounded, steady — the wall of Team Seraph.

  Replica gestured. “This is Kaelin Voss. She has the unusual habit of interjecting only the letter ‘K’… quite often, and never with explanation. Thus, the designation K was deemed appropriate.”

  K looked up, unbothered. “K.”

  The timing landed; the table cracked up. Even Replica hid a graceful giggle.

  “As you can see, it is… consistent.”

  Speedy leaned toward Selena. “What’s your codename? I’ve never heard anyone use it.”

  Selena replied softly. “…Whisper.”

  Speedy grinned. “Yeah, I see where you got that.”

  Her smirk was small, fleeting — but real. The table laughed with her, not at her.

  ?

  The Vitalis dorm glowed with soft orange light.

  Thorn sat cross-legged in meditation; Silverline stretched in uniform; at the far end, Jace snored like a dying beast.

  SNNNRRK… gkkkhhh…

  The door slammed open.

  WAM!

  Captain Vitalis’ long coat snapped in the draft, emerald eyes sharp with playful menace.

  “Jace, if your feet don’t hit that floor in three seconds, I’m knocking you into next week.”

  From under the sheets: “One more minute, Captain Kill-a-Dream…”

  “He did not just say that…” Silverline smirked.

  “She warned him,” Thorn murmured.

  WHAK!

  “GAAAH! My ancestors felt that!” Jace yelped.

  Minutes later in the hall, Grid walked stiffly with two lumps on his head. Thorn paced calm; Silverline still grinning.

  “She’s abusive,” Grid muttered. “I’m reporting this to my senior leader—”

  “She is your senior leader,” Thorn replied.

  “Should’ve called her Captain Clobber,” Silverline laughed.

  ?

  In the cafeteria, Silverline pulled up short: Titan, Pulse, even Seraph gathered at one table — laughter where laughter didn’t belong.

  Selena smiling.

  “I’m glad Selena’s finally talking to people,” Silverline said softly. “She needs that.”

  “…So… what do you two think of Lior?”

  Thorn and Grid turned in sync. “We know what you think.”

  Silverline flushed. “Shut up! It’s just a question!”

  Grid squinted. “A red-faced question.”

  Thorn smirked, changing the subject. “I’m glad Selena’s smiling too. It’s been a rough four years for her.”

  ?

  The Gamma Dome loomed — and it wasn’t the same place as yesterday.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Domed walls pulsed faintly with light. A central structure dominated the field with sliding partitions and shifting panels.

  Not an arena. A city.

  Veritas called it modular urban warfare — streets that learned you as fast as you learned them.

  “This wasn’t here when we left,” Cael said. “There’s no way.”

  “Yesterday it was empty,” Ayasha murmured. “This is all new.”

  Titan didn’t pause. “Don’t get distracted. This is what they do — reshape the ground beneath your feet until you doubt what you know. Get your head right. We have a job.”

  At Veritas, doubt wasn’t a flaw; it was a tool they sharpened you with.

  “Yeah,” Lior said, thinking of Rae and Carter.

  Just like they have.

  Seats ringed the amphitheater. Emblems glowed. The announcer’s voice rolled through the Dome:

  “This is a tactical simulation emphasizing stealth, communication, and strategy. One strategist from each pair will lead via comms from the tower. Your score will be based on teamwork, retrieval, and execution. Each pair enters in turn.”

  The giant screen displayed the teams:

  [CO-OP TEAM PAIRINGS]

  [EDGE / PULSE]

  “Seriously?” Speedy groaned. “We have to team with that egomaniac?”

  [VITALIS / TITAN]

  Silverline shot up, fist pumping before her face flushed. “YES!!”

  “Told you,” Thorn said.

  WHAP!

  Silverline’s palm cracked against the back of Grid’s head.

  “Ow!” Grid glared. “I didn’t say anything!”

  Silverline turned away, arms folded. “He feeds off your energy.”

  [NULL / IRONCLAD]

  Selena didn’t look up. Gale huffed. “Those monsters can’t follow directions.”

  Ditto echoed, “Yeah. They can’t follow directions.”

  [SERAPH / SNAPBACK]

  Snapback leaned back, arms stretched across two seats. “Hope Lava Lilly doesn’t melt down out ther—”

  THUMP!

  Snapback went face-first into the ground, rear end in the air.

  Sunstrike blinked. “I think he’s unconscious,” Blueprint deadpanned.

  Sunstrike crossed her arms. “Well, maybe we can get some peace for a change.”

  The announcer cut back in.

  “Team Edge… Team Pulse — make your way down.”

  Lior leaned forward. “Let’s see how they handle Valor.”

  ?

  On the staging floor, two teams stood shoulder-to-shoulder — Edge stiff with pride, Pulse grounded and loose.

  The simulation gates rumbled open, shaking the ground beneath their boots.

  Valor crossed his arms. “So who’s calling the plays — you, Sync?”

  Sync answered evenly. “I’d say me, but I sync better in the field. Blueprint’s sharper with layouts.”

  Blueprint’s voice crackled through the comm. “You’ll be stronger in motion — I’ll guide from above.”

  Valor muttered, “Guide? Cute. I’m not taking orders from someone like you.”

  Blueprint hesitated. “…Comms stable. Audio green.”

  Valor rolled his eyes. “If you can’t take the heat, I’ll switch with you.”

  A pause. Then Blueprint’s tone sharpened — not loud, but firm. “Negative. I’ve got it.”

  The elevator doors slid shut behind him. As he rose toward the glass command booth, Blueprint’s reflection stared back — pale, nervous fingers tightening around the headset.

  Don’t freeze now.

  The doors opened; he stepped into the operator’s seat.

  ?

  “Veil Drill, Trial I — prepare to begin at the sound of the horn.”

  BOOOOOOOONK!

  Screens flashed alive. The corridors opened.

  Cold light flooded the entry hall.

  Inside, narrow steel corridors, dim pulses running along the walls. The sound of distant drones clicked and buzzed like mechanical insects.

  Blueprint straightened, hands hovering over the glowing control table.

  “Entering corridor one. Watch for sentry patrols every twenty meters.”

  “Left at the split,” Blueprint ordered. “Right now. Next left. Pause — sentry ahead.”

  The group halted.

  WHIRRR.

  A camera turret glided across the junction.

  Perma whispered, “I can cut that feed—”

  Blueprint cut in. “Negative. Your ability leaves residue — the sensors will trace it. We move clean.”

  Valor exhaled through his teeth. “So we’re just waiting around?”

  Mirage’s voice came low and steady. “It’s not a race. It’s survival.”

  Valor scoffed. “Feels like crawling.”

  Up in the stands, Ayasha leaned forward. “Valor’s going to blow a fuse,” she muttered.

  ?

  “Sync,” Blueprint said, voice tense. “We’re closing in on a drone cluster. I need you to link the squad. Keep quiet movement patterns uniform.”

  Sync nodded once, eyes flickering yellow.

  KRR-CHMMM… TNNNK!

  Electric-blue ripples shimmered from his chest — pulses brushing across every teammate like a soft current. Their breathing synced. Footsteps fell in perfect rhythm.

  —Niche Activated: Neural Sync—

  Links the minds of his teammates, forming a shared neural network that lets them move and react as one.

  Speedy blinked. “Whoa. It’s like we’re sharing a heartbeat…”

  “Focus,” Mirage said, barely above a whisper.

  They slipped forward, shadows of each other. Cameras swung overhead — just inches from catching their reflection.

  Blueprint’s voice tightened. “Nice work, keep moving. Split at the next corner, regroup at the junction.”

  Valor grumbled, “You sure about that? Looks longer.”

  “Trust the readout,” Sync replied. “He’s right.”

  “Yeah, sure, kid.”

  Up in the observation ring, Silverline chuckled softly. “Give Sync credit — holding it together at fourteen? That’s talent.”

  Grid didn’t look away. “He’s adapting. Blueprint’s learning to lead under fire.”

  ?

  “Freeze,” Blueprint whispered suddenly. “Sentry rolling in your direction.”

  A soft mechanical hum grew louder —

  BZZ-CLACK, BZZ-CLACK.

  Speedy peeked around the corner — too far.

  Mirage grabbed his collar, yanking him back as a red sensor beam swept past.

  “Don’t look. Listen.”

  “Uh — thanks,” he mouthed.

  She only nodded once.

  The beam receded.

  Blueprint exhaled. “Good save. Keep moving. Right corridor in three… two…”

  They advanced again, low and silent.

  Sync’s aura dimmed as he cut the link — breath shaky, a hand pressed to the wall for balance.

  “You okay?” Perma asked quietly.

  “Short burst’s fine,” Sync murmured. “No strain yet.”

  Halfway through the route, Blueprint’s screens rippled. “We’re closing on the central hall. Three paths remain. Only one’s clean, but sensors are overlapping.”

  ?

  Hiroshi’s eyes narrowed as he stood at the top of the stands. “Let’s see how you overcome… Mateo.”

  “Come on, Blueprint,” Cael muttered. “You’ve got this..”

  Blueprint steadied himself. “Sync, I’m seeing tons of movement in corridors coming up. You'll need to link again — and hold it longer for this one.”

  Sync nodded and closed his eyes. His gaze flickered yellow as they opened.

  KRR-CHMMM… TNNNK!

  Blue pulses wrapped through the team in glowing ripples. They moved again as one, weaving through corridors that narrowed.

  “Left, then low crawl,” Blueprint directed. “Drones above, cameras right. Do not break pace.”

  Speedy opened his mouth to warn Perma about a surveillance drone, but before he could get it out, Neural Sync had her ducking already.

  Speedy whispered in awe, “This is crazy.”

  Mirage’s eyes swept every corner. “Clear.”

  Perma whispered, “We’re almost there.”

  Sync’s jaw clenched — sweat forming at his temple. His hand trembled against the wall, light pulsing faster and more unstable than before.

  “Sync,” Mirage warned quietly. “You can’t hold it that long.”

  “I’m fine…” He forced a breath. “Five more seconds.”

  Blueprint’s voice rose. “You’re doing great, Sync! We’re right there — just a little more!”

  A tone cut through the comms.

  “Thirty seconds remaining.”

  Valor’s head snapped up. “You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re going to lose.”

  “Don’t—” Sync started.

  “Forget this!” Valor’s eyes flashed yellow.

  The air imploded.

  FFFWIP — BLAM!

  Red and blue waves tore through the corridor, light waving off his frame. His muscles convulsed, veins surging like cables ready to snap.

  —Niche Activated: Full Throttle—

  A surge ability that pushes Valor’s body into overdrive, amplifying strength, speed, and reflexes for short bursts. His muscle fibers tighten under extreme strain, turning every punch and step into explosive power.

  “Valor, no—!” Blueprint’s voice cracked.

  Valor shot through the hallways, causing a shockwave, destroying cameras and turrets alike.

  Turrets swiveled. Alarms screamed.

  BOOOONK — BOOOONK — BOOOONK!

  [INTRUDER DETECTED]

  The lights flared red.

  “Mission compromised,” came through the intercom.

  [MISSION FAILED]

  ?

  The lift doors parted. Edge and Pulse stepped out heavy.

  Kaito waited, arms folded, eyes cold, as Valor walked out. “You don’t think when you let emotions take over. Until you control that… you’ll never be what you could be.”

  Valor brushed past.

  Speedy threw his hands up. “I’m not mad. I braced for disaster the second I saw our ‘partners.’”

  “Shut up, Speedy,” Perma muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” Blueprint said. “I thought we had a clean shot.”

  Hiroshi, leaning on his cane, gave a small smile. “Keep your heads up. I expected you to win… but some things you can’t overcome. Get stronger — so those obstacles can’t stop you.”

  Perma blinked, the words landing.

  “Let’s gooo!” Speedy skipped toward the next lift. “I wanna sit before my love’s exercise starts!”

  “How am I going to survive,” Perma sighed.

  From the shadows, Titan watched. Ego has never won a battle.

  ?

  Two lifts crossed — Edge and Pulse rising, Vitalis and Titan descending.

  Perma mouthed to Ayasha: Good luck.

  “YOU GOT THIS, LOVE OF MY LIFE!” Speedy bellowed from the upper platform.

  His attention turned toward Lior, voice suddenly sharp. “Lior, if she loses, I will spite you!”

  ?

  On the floor, Vitalis and Titan gathered at a door marked.

  [STRATEGIST ACCESS ONLY]

  “He’s a strategic genius,” Cael whispered.

  “If they trust you, Grid,” Lior said, offering a hand, “then you’ve got my full trust too.”

  Grid’s expression softened.

  “A guy in the spotlight like you shouldn’t be this nice,” he said, almost under his breath.

  Lior’s grin widened. “So what’s the plan, Captain?”

  Ayasha and Silverline both looked at him at the same time.

  Ayasha hid a smile.

  Silverline flushed.

  As if they could read each other’s minds, the air between them tightened — unspoken, electric.

  DING.

  An overhead chime echoed as words appeared on the screen.

  [STRATEGISTS TO COMMAND BOOTHS]

  Grid exhaled and stepped into the elevator leading to the glass-walled station above.

  Below, both teams moved to the staging gates.

  The announcer’s voice rolled across the Dome.

  “Veil Drill, Trial II — Prepare to begin at the sound of the horn”

  Ayasha bounced once on her toes, jaw set.

  Silverline flexed her fingers, eyes bright.

  Lior nodded to Grid’s rising silhouette. “We trust you.”

  Grid adjusted his headset as the doors opened. “I won’t waste it.”

  He stepped into the booth.

  Hands hovered over the glowing table.

  Breath in.

  Breath out.

  “Veil Drill, Trial II,” the announcer repeated, steady as a metronome. “On my mark.”

  The corridors opened below like steel petals.

  BOOOOOOOONK!

  End of Chapter 24