She hated being called "Damien's little sister."
Not because she disliked him—she adored him. Worshipped him, even.
But Sera Thorne was her own name, her own future, and in her own world?
She was already a legend.
Star Haven Institute – Orbital Campus, Earth Orbit
Unlike Xyprus Academy, Star Haven didn't train warriors.
It forged world-shapers.
Technopaths. Logic architects. Gene-designers. Weaponless tacticians. Kids with minds sharp enough to write code that could break empires or solve problems nations couldn't.
And Sera?
She was top of her class.
Age: 13.
Height: 5'5 and still growing.
IQ: 204 (baseline)
Specialization: Quantum Reasoning, Bio-adaptive Architecture, and Combat Simulation Engineering.
But she wasn't just mind.
She shared Thorne blood.
Bone-dense. Reflex-sharp. A gymnast prodigy by age six. Dismantled her first military drone at eight. Accidentally broke a senior cadet's arm in a "light" sparring drill at ten.
Agile. Compact. But impossibly strong.
Her instructors thought she must be a hybrid child—until scans came back clean.
"No fusion. No enhancement. Just genetics."
The Thorne Line.
Still, she kept her power hidden. Star Haven valued discipline of thought over dominance of body. But whispers still trailed her:
"That's Damien Thorne's sister."
"The one who broke an instructor's arm during self-defense protocol."
"She passed the Ascendant Logic Gate in one attempt—only one ever to do it."
In her private lab pod, Sera dimmed the lights. She pulled up the latest secured data-drop from Xyprus Academy. Tournament footage.
She fast-forwarded to a match. Paused on one frame: Damien standing over the broken bodies of Null Sanctum operatives, his hands trembling, lips pressed thin, golden eyes burning.
Her roommate, a wiry boy named Vale, leaned in the doorway. "Why do you watch this stuff? It's brutal."
"Because it's real," she said, eyes still on the screen.
He hesitated. "He's… different."
She smirked faintly. "Yeah. And you should see him in a bad mood."
She zoomed in on Damien's stance. Measured the subtle shift of his weight, the micro-twitch in his left shoulder before impact. She calculated his oxygen intake by the timing of his chest movements.
Then she stood.
Feet apart. Weight dropped. Shoulders squared. Her muscles activated instantly, as if they recognized the pattern.
Her legs burned. Her breathing changed. It felt right—like her body had been waiting for this stance all along.
The console chimed. A system alert.
Classified Transmission Intercepted: "Null Sanctum seeks to retrieve both subjects. High-priority identifiers: Damien Thorne. Sera Thorne."
Her eyes narrowed. "So it's starting…"
Elsewhere – Star Haven HQ
Two senior advisors sat in a glass-walled briefing room, watching a live data feed of Sera's training stats.
"She's accelerating too quickly," one said.
"She's the youngest student in history to run predictive war-gaming AI better than the AI itself," the other replied. "Do you know what that means?"
The first frowned. "Yes. It means when she realizes what she is—"
"—If she hasn't already," the other cut in.
They both turned to the feed again. Onscreen, Sera's simulations were outperforming entire tactical teams.
Back in her lab
Sera closed the intercepted transmission. Opened a new secure document.
Title:Countermeasure Blueprint: Null Sanctum Suppression.
Vale poked his head back in. "Uh… you okay?"
"Fine," she said, typing without looking up. "Just planning to destroy an international criminal network."
He blinked. "…Should I be worried?"
"No. They should."
She wasn't going to run. She wasn't going to hide.
She was going to fight back—her way.
With brains. With blades. With blood.
A soft tone sounded. An encrypted message popped up in the corner of her display.
From: Damien Thorne
Subject: Stay safe, kid. You're all I've got left.
She smiled. "You too, dummy."
But she didn't stop typing. Her eyes were sharp, fingers moving faster.
Because Sera Thorne was never just the youngest.
She was the future.