The stealth transport dropped them off a mile from their target and vanished back into the night sky without a sound. The four of them – Seraph, Draven, Vanessa, and Jonah stood in the biting wind of the desolate mountain range, the silence broken only by the whistling of the wind over bare rock.
Ahead of them, nestled in a craggy valley, was Station Chimera.
It wasn't some sleek science tower. It was a concrete bunker. A square, windowless block of a building designed to keep things in, not to look pretty. No lights glowed from within. It was a dead, silent tomb under the cold moonlight.
The team moved quickly and quietly, their training taking over. They reached the perimeter fence, which was torn open in one section, a clear sign of a violent escape. As they approached the main entrance – a massive, reinforced steel door – Draven cracked his knuckles, grinning like the fight was already over.
"Alright, playtime's over," he boasted, his hand already glowing as he prepared to manifest his flaming sword. "Stand back, kids. I'll turn this door into a puddle of slag. We'll be inside in thirty seconds."
"Halt," Seraph commanded, her voice sharp as glass. Draven froze, his grin faltering.
Seraph ignored him. She turned her full attention to Jonah, her expression serious. "We're blind. We have no idea what's waiting on the other side of that door. Draven's approach is loud, stupid, and will alert every creature in this facility to our exact location."
She looked at Jonah, and in that moment, she wasn't his teacher. She was his commander. "Jonah. Tell us what's inside."
This was it. His real test. The other team members, Draven and the medic Eliza, looked at him with skepticism. How was this scrawny first-year supposed to see through solid steel?
Jonah didn't waste time with words. He acted.
He took a step forward and placed a hand on the cold concrete wall next to the main door. He closed his eyes.
Shard, forward.
In the physical world, nothing happened. But in Jonah's Beast Space, he directed his crystalline scout to appear just on the other side of the wall. He couldn't summon his Progeny through solid objects, but he could create them in any space he could clearly visualize. Shard appeared silently in the dark corridor beyond the door.
He then sent a second command.
Nyx, sky.
High above them, the Glimmer-Wing Striker appeared out of thin air, a silent shadow against the moonlit clouds, its keen eyes scanning the entire perimeter of the station.
With Shard on the inside and Nyx on the outside, he had total situational awareness.
He commanded Shard to begin its work. The little turtle-like creature placed its six legs firmly on the concrete floor and began to tap, sending out a rapid series of sonar pulses.
A three-dimensional blueprint of Station Chimera bloomed in Jonah's mind. It was like looking at a ghost-image of the entire building. He saw hallways, labs, storage rooms, and stairwells. He saw the layout of both the main floor and the three sublevels.
And he saw movement.
The other Elites watched as Jonah stood perfectly still, his hand pressed against the wall, his face a mask of intense concentration. Draven snorted impatiently.
"Is he meditating?" he scoffed. "I thought we were in a hurry."
"Quiet," Seraph snapped.
A few moments later, Jonah opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and began his report, his voice calm and professional.
"The station layout is a central hub with three wings and three sublevels. Nyx confirms no external threats. Perimeter is secure."
He paused, processing the interior data from Shard. "I'm detecting multiple hostiles. Three large signatures on the first sublevel, in what looks like a large containment bay. They're moving slowly, almost pacing. There are at least a dozen smaller signatures scattered throughout the main floor. They're moving erratically."
Eliza, the medic, gasped. Vanessa stared at Jonah, her mind clearly trying to work out the mechanics of how he was doing this.
"Any signs of the staff?" Seraph asked, her voice tight.
Jonah's face fell. "No," he said quietly. "I'm not detecting any human life signs. At all." He focused again. "There's more. The main generator on sublevel three is offline. But there's a secondary, isolated power source still active in the primary lab on the main floor, west wing."
He pulled his hand back from the wall. His report was complete.
The other Elites were stunned into silence. Not even the most advanced magical scanning devices could have provided that much detailed information that quickly. He had given them a full architectural layout, enemy numbers and locations, and a power grid status in under two minutes, all without making a single sound.
Draven was the first to break the silence, his disbelief warring with his arrogance. "That's impossible," he sputtered. "You're just making that up. It's some kind of mind-reader's trick!
Seraph didn't even look at Draven. She trusted Jonah's intelligence completely. "Did you find us a way in?" she asked.
Jonah pointed to the right. "There's a maintenance entrance on the north side of the building, about fifty yards from here. The corridor behind it is clear for at least a hundred feet. No hostiles nearby. It's our best bet for a silent entry."
Without another word, Seraph began moving toward the side entrance. Eliza followed without hesitation. Vanessa gave Jonah a wide-eyed look that said, What the hell was that? – but with a scientist's hunger for answers. Then she fell in line.
Only Draven remained, looking from the main door he wanted to smash, to the team that was now following the orders of a first-year student. With a frustrated growl, he stomped after them, his pride clearly wounded.
They found the side entrance exactly where Jonah had said it would be. The lock was fried. With a bit of effort, they forced it open and slipped inside, one by one, into the pitch-black, silent hallways of Station Chimera.
The air inside was cold and smelled faintly of ozone and something else… something metallic and vaguely rotten.
They were in. And just like that, without a single explosion or flashy spell, Jonah had proven his worth. He wasn't just another student. Not just muscle in the fight.
He was the team's eyes – and in a place like this, seeing meant surviving.