Carter and Rei moved low through the shadowed hall, the faint buzz of conduits humming around them.

  Rei’s hand snapped out, dragging a passing soldier into a supply closet.

  The door shut with a muffled thud.

  Carter smirked, whispering as he adjusted his collar.

  “Well… this dynamic feels a little different. You throwing the punches, me staying pretty. Not what I imagined.”

  Rei didn’t glance back, her tone clipped.

  “Stay focused.”

  Carter flipped open his holographic display, the blue light painting his grin.

  “Next right. The door to the weather machine should be just ahead.”

  They slipped around the corner. The bulkhead ahead loomed with a single stenciled mark:

  [THETA 9 — CLASSIFIED ACCESS.]

  Carter’s grin faltered for a breath.

  “Guess we’re in the right place.”

  ?

  The buzz of the conduits rose into a low, distant roar—until it became something else entirely.

  The steel beneath the stands trembled as the Omega Zone began to shift.

  Walls rotated and folded like massive gears, rearranging the battlefield for the next match.

  Overhead, the announcement system crackled to life.

  “Next up — Team Vitalis versus Captain Null! Prepare for entry.”

  The cadets around Lior cheered faintly, but the words barely reached him.

  He wasn’t hearing them.

  He wasn’t even seeing the field.

  All he saw — all he could see — were those crimson eyes.

  The same ones from his dream.

  Burning. Unblinking. Staring through him.

  The world around him blurred, swallowed by the echo of that color.

  For a heartbeat, the roar of the arena faded into nothing.

  Titan’s voice cut through the silence.

  “You good, kid?”

  Lior blinked, dragging himself back. The Omega Zone was still transforming, steel partitions locking into new configurations. Titan sat beside him, arms folded, watching the field but not the match.

  “Something you want to talk about?” he asked, eyes still forward.

  Lior hesitated.

  “…Why do we have these powers—and some people don’t?”

  Titan didn’t turn. He exhaled slowly, watching the shifting terrain. Ayasha and Cael glanced over, sensing the weight behind the question.

  “No one here at Veritas really knows,” Titan said finally. “What we’ve pieced together comes from Potestas captives, a few scraps from Hiroshi when he defected… and intel from your father.”

  He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees.

  “Potestas found a dormant strand of DNA in some humans — something ancient. When given a serum that they created, that strand comes alive which is the source of the Niche. They injected us when we were kids — ages four to eight. If the serum connected, the eyes flashed yellow. That was the sign. But even then, most never activated a Niche.”

  Titan turned his head just enough for Lior to see his expression.

  “You weren’t one of them. You never got the serum. And somehow, you’ve activated two. Thats what makes Potestas fear you.”

  Ayasha and Cael exchanged looks — quiet, uncertain.

  Titan’s tone softened.

  “Your father uncovered a prophecy Potestas had uncovered. Said a child would be born under the nose of the oppressors and would bring light to the shadows. Every cadet knows it. Not because Veritas preaches prophecy — but because we’ve learned not to doubt possibility.”

  Lior swallowed hard, trying his hardest to not show hesitation. He almost told him — about the dream, about the eyes — but something in him pulled back.

  Instead, he asked,

  “What about… crimson eyes?”

  Titan finally looked at him.

  “You mean Rex.”

  Lior nodded.

  Titan turned back to the Omega Zone, now glowing faint red as systems locked into place.

  “His are the first and only we’ve seen do that. When it happens, it’s like something else takes over, almost evil. When he comes out of it, he remembers nothing. So as far as we know… there’s no explanation. No record. No pattern.”

  He paused.

  “Why? Something you want to tell me?”

  Lior’s jaw tightened. He shook his head.

  “No. Just thought it was strange, that’s all.”

  Titan studied him for a moment longer, then let it drop.

  “There’s something else I haven’t told anyone,” he said quietly. “But I think you should hear it. You’d probably find out sooner or later.”

  Lior, Ayasha, and Cael all leaned in.

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  “There’s one person who knows more about that prophecy — and about where Niches come from — than anyone else alive.”

  Lior’s breath hitched.

  “Who? Where?”

  Titan’s eyes stayed on the glowing field.

  “Potestas has had him captive for close to sixteen years. They didn’t believe the prophecy at first. Not until you were born. Then they took every precaution they could.”

  Lior’s mind began to race.

  How many people’s lives will I destroy.

  Titan leaned back in his seat, noticing Lior’s inner conflict..

  “But that’s a matter outside our hands. Right now, this—” he gestured toward the field “—this is what’s in front of us.”

  Lior looked down, his reflection flickering against the light of the Omega Zone.

  “Right.”

  He turned his gaze back toward the field, just as Team Vitalis began walking toward Zone 7. Their movements were crisp, purposeful — almost glowing beneath the floodlights.

  But in Lior’s mind, those crimson eyes still burned.

  They wouldn’t fade.

  Wouldn’t blink.

  Wouldn’t die.

  ?

  Far from the arena, beneath another sky—

  The corridor stretched silent and still, lit by pale daylight spilling through narrow vents above. The hum of the ocean outside rolled faintly through the walls.

  A man stopped before a heavy metal door.

  Next to the door— on the wall, a polished plaque read:

  {UNITED STATES DIVISION — CHANCELLOR “REPUBLIC.”}

  He gripped the latch.

  Click.

  The door opened to a wide chamber filled with light.

  Tall windows overlooked the open sea — sunlight striking the waves in fractured bands of white and silver. The air smelled faintly of salt and iron.

  At the far end stood a single desk of black stone, empty except for a glass decanter and a sealed folder. The room was otherwise bare — no screens, no machines, no clutter — just quiet authority.

  The man stepped inside, slow and deliberate, smoke drifting from his sleeve.

  Trigger.

  He closed the door behind him. The soft hiss of the seal was the only sound for a long moment.

  Then the Chancellor spoke, his voice low and composed.

  “Have you met the asset?”

  Trigger drew on his cigarette, the ember flaring against the ocean light. He lifted his head, tipping his hat back just enough for his eyes to show.

  “I’ve met the bratt.”

  “Good,” the Chancellor said evenly. “I have your first mission.”

  Trigger gave a dry laugh, smoke curling from the corner of his mouth.

  “I ain’t goin’ on no mission with that little—”

  He froze. The Chancellor’s eyes flickered yellow, bright and sharp, stopping the words in his throat.

  “Like I said,” the Chancellor continued, tone never rising, “I have a mission for you two. This is a very important assignment. You and him will head to Theta 9 as soon as possible.”

  Trigger narrowed his eyes.

  “Ain’t Sentinel headed there?”

  “Yes,” the Chancellor replied, calm as still water. “But I fear he may need assistance.”

  Trigger took another slow drag, then exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk tugging his lip.

  “A Rank One needin’ help…” he muttered, gravel rough in his drawl. “That’s a first.”

  The Chancellor turned his head slightly, gaze steady.

  “This is your last chance. If you fail this mission, that rank will no longer be on your chest.”

  Trigger dipped his head again, brim lowering until his eyes disappeared beneath shadow. He turned for the door without a word.

  As he reached for the handle, the Chancellor’s voice came again, smooth and final.

  “You leave today. Collect the asset and depart immediately.”

  Trigger’s hand tightened on the latch. He gave a slow nod, then stepped out as the door sealed behind him with a hiss.

  The sound lingered, bleeding through the hallway.

  ?

  Another hand turned the hatch of the door. It opened with the same soft whisper of pressure release.

  But when the light spilled through, it didn’t reveal the quiet room of Chancellor Republic.

  It opened into a cavernous chamber.

  Towering turbine-arms spiraled upward into a glowing core, the walls webbed with cables and conduits alive with arcs of blue light. The machine looked centuries ahead of anything human hands should have built — a storm engine pulsing at the heart of Potestas.

  Carter’s voice carried in, half-awed, half-smirking.

  “Well, Rae… I think this is the weather machine.”

  Rae stepped beside him, eyes narrowing as she scanned the construct.

  “I don’t know why… but I wasn’t expecting this.”

  From the shadows, a soldier appeared, rifle leveled.

  “Hey! You two! Hands where I can see ’em!”

  Carter lifted his hands halfway, grin never fading.

  “Hey man, I was just looking for the bathroom. Why are there so many doors with no na—”

  Fwip!

  His hips twisted sharply, a device ejecting from his belt. It spun through the air—

  Zzzzttt!

  —crackling with charge before slapping against the soldier’s chest plate.

  The man convulsed violently, body arched, the air split by the sharp—

  BZZZZZZT!

  “Great job—move!” Rae barked, already sprinting forward.

  Carter followed, boots hammering steel.

  “And you made fun of my Hip Thrust Lightning Rod!”

  Rae shot him a sidelong glare, deadpan even in the chaos.

  “No… I made fun of that stupid name. Now shut up and run.”

  Sirens erupted overhead.

  WEEEOOO! WEEEOOO!

  Red lights spun across the chamber walls, staining their faces crimson as more soldiers poured in behind them, rifles spitting fire.

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Bullets tore sparks from the rails.

  And then, in a seamless cut — the same crimson glow bled into a different world.

  Lior, Cael, and Ayasha stood inside the Veritas arena, muscles tense, eyes locked on Team Vitalis, awaiting their turn to shine.

  Two battles. Worlds apart.

  One wanted to win.

  The other… had to win.

  End of Chapter 34