"They can mimic emotion," she continued, "but they don't understand it. Not really. They react to it like a signal, a pattern. But they don't feel it. That's the difference."
Mateo frowned. "So what? They can still use it to track us."
"Yes," Daisy nodded. "But they can't weaponize it the way we do. Our powers aren't just reactions. They're rooted in experience. In memory. In pain and joy and everything in between. That's why the puppets work. That's why Tracey's healing calms more than wounds. Why Ray's vines respond to fear."
Ray looked down at his hands, the green tendrils curling gently around his wrist.
Steve stepped forward. "You're saying they can't turn our emotions against us because they don't feel them?"
"Exactly," Daisy said. "They're once humans right? We called them killing machines. They simulate like robots. We live."
Yize had been silent, watching the exchange with a furrowed brow. Now he stepped forward, his sling shifting as he adjusted his stance.
"They're not just killing machines," he said quietly. "They're called Angels Eye."
The name dropped like a stone into a still pond.
Zichen blinked. "Angels Eye?"
Yize nodded. "That's what the old records called them. I found fragments in the archives beneath the southern observatory. Before it was destroyed."
Steve narrowed his eyes. "You never told us."
"I wasn't sure it mattered," Yize replied. "Until now."
Jane leaned forward. "What did you find?"
Yize exhaled slowly, his voice was low, but it carried.
"They weren't built here," he said. "Not on this planet. Not by us—not directly. But they're ours. Born from our greed, our obsession with control."
He looked up, meeting Steve's gaze. "You've heard of the orbital vaults? Eclipse shift?"
Steve nodded slowly. "Celestial archives. Failed projects. Stars tech."
Yize exhaled. "The Angels Eye was one of them. A surveillance system designed to observe emotion across planetary systems. Not just detect it—catalog it, analyze it, preserve it. They wanted to map the soul of civilizations. Every joy, every grief, every flicker of rage or love."
Ray frowned. "Why?"
"To predict collapse," Yize replied. "To prevent wars. Or so they claimed. But the data was too rich. Too tempting. They started feeding it into constructs—controlled people that could mimic empathy, simulate pain, manipulate response."
A hush fell over the group. Even the wind seemed to pause, as if the world itself were listening.
Mateo stepped back, his brow furrowed. "You're saying the Angels Eye was watching us… cataloging us… before we even knew?"
Yize nodded. "Before we were born. Before this planet was even settled. The vaults were ancient. Buried in orbit, hidden behind the eclipse."
Jane's voice was barely a whisper. "The Eclipse Shift…"
Ray looked up sharply. "You mean the day the sky cracked?"
Daisy's eyes widened. "The day everything changed."
They all remembered it.
The moment the sun dimmed—not with shadow, but with silence. A stillness that spread across the globe. No birds. No machines. No breath. Just a pause. And then the light returned—but not the same. It shimmered. Bent. And with it, the world bent too.
Steve clenched his fists. "That's when the powers started."
Tracey nodded slowly. "I healed a dying man with a touch. I thought it was adrenaline. A miracle. But it kept happening."
Ray flexed his fingers. The vines responded, curling tighter. "I couldn't stop the growth. It was like the earth was listening to me."
Yize's gaze was distant. "The Eclipse Shift wasn't just a celestial event. It was a release. A rupture. The vaults opened. The Angels Eye… consumed those who are weak."
Jane's breath caught. "You mean… we're carrying the emotions of civilizations?"
"Fragments," Yize said. "Echoes. Enough to awaken something dormant. Something science never touched."
Daisy stepped forward, her voice firm. "And again, as I said. That's why they can't mimic us. They simulate emotion, but they weren't flooded with it. They didn't receive the resonance."
Steve's eyes narrowed. "But they're still dangerous."
"Yes," Yize said. "Because they're trying to reclaim it. To harvest what we now carry."
Ray looked around. "Then the powers aren't gifts. They're burdens."
Tracey shook her head. "No. They're truths. The truth of what it means to feel. To remember. To live."
Zichen broke the quiet. "If they're trying to reclaim what we carry… what happens if they succeed?"
Yize's jaw tightened. "Then we lose more than our powers. We lose the resonance. The connection. The very thing that makes us human."
Mateo paced, his boots crunching against the dry earth. "So what do we do? Hide? Fight? Burn every trace of emotion from ourselves?"
"No," Daisy said sharply. "We protect it. We learn to wield it better than they ever could."
Jane nodded. "We've been reacting. Surviving. But now we know. Now we understand what we are."
Ray looked up, his eyes reflecting the firelight. "Then we need to go back."
Steve turned to him. "Back where?"
"To the vaults," Ray said. "To the source. If the Angels Eye came from there, maybe there's something left. Something we can use."
Yize hesitated. "The southern observatory was destroyed. The vault beneath it collapsed during the Shift."
"But not all of it," Ray said. "You said you found fragments. That means something survived."
Tracey stepped forward. "If we go, we go together. No more secrets. No more half-truths."
Yize nodded slowly. "Agreed."
Daisy turned to Steve. "You've been quiet."
Steve's gaze was fixed on the horizon. "I'm thinking about the day the sky cracked. I was in the northern barrens. Alone. I felt it before I saw it. Like a pressure behind my eyes. And then… the silence. I thought I'd gone deaf."
He looked at the others. "But it wasn't silence. It was listening. Something was listening."
Mateo shivered. "You think it was the Angels Eye?"
Steve nodded. "I think when they were still human, they had tough time and giving up life that could be the reason why Angels eye was waking up in them as the Eclipse shift."
Zichen rubbed his temples. "So we're not just fighting Angels eye. We're fighting something anciently smart. Something that knows us better than we know ourselves."
Jane's voice was steady. "Then we need to know it too."