Light snapped back all at once.
Rai stood on the same obsidian floor they'd started on, the trial's ending still raw in his mind. He didn't need to search for the memory—every moment of it clung to him like smoke.
The others were there too, each wearing the same unspoken weight. No one moved. No one dared to break the silence.
Vail's voice cut through, steady and cold. "Unit Six. You're dismissed."
Nothing more.
They filed out together, their footsteps echoing in the wide, empty hall. The air outside the chamber felt colder, sharper, as if the academy itself had shifted while they were gone.
By the time they reached their facility, night had settled in.
◇ ◇ ◇
The door to their assigned facility slid open with a soft hiss, and the six of them stepped inside. The overhead lights were dim, casting long shadows across the polished floor and making the space feel larger than it was.
They moved without speaking, their footsteps muffled against the smooth surface, the air thick with a quiet that wasn't entirely comfortable. The lingering echo of Vail's dismissal still clung to them, a wordless reminder of everything they'd been made to see—everything they'd been made to feel.
Theo broke the silence first, his voice a poor match for the mood. "Well… that was something."
Nobody laughed.
Kael found his spot against the far wall, leaning into it with his gloved hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere far away.
Zeyra lowered herself onto the edge of a platform step, elbows resting on her knees, her posture straight but weighted, as if holding herself upright took more effort than she wanted to admit. Sweat still dampened the edges of her cloak, darkening the fabric in uneven streaks.
Liora stood by the central table, hands loosely clasped, her eyes unfocused. She seemed adrift—like part of her was still in that other place, trapped in a moment she couldn't yet shake.
Myren remained near the pillar beside the node screen, his hood pulled low, shadows hiding most of his face. He hadn't moved since they entered, blending so easily into the stillness that he might have been a fixture of the room.
Theo let out a quiet breath and glanced between them, his usual grin absent. "Tough crowd," he muttered, but even that failed to draw a reaction.
Theo's attempt at humor faded, replaced by a glance toward the others. "So… we're just not gonna talk about it?"
Zeyra's eyes shifted to him, sharp enough to warn but not enough to cut. "Talking doesn't ease the experience."
Kael gave a quiet hum, not quite agreement, not quite denial. "It does make it harder to forget."
Liora's gaze flicked toward the floor. "Like forgetting is even an option." Her tone was soft, but it carried a strange finality, as if she already knew they'd carry this forever.
Myren spoke for the first time, voice low and almost lost in the ambient hum of the facility. "Some things don't belong in words."
The silence that followed felt heavier than the one before.
Rai didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Whatever they'd been made to face had already carved itself into all of them—and even without details, it was clear they each understood that this was only the beginning.
Then Theo stood up. "Well… that was fun and slightly traumatizing. We better rest up for tomorrow if we're gonna face that again."
They all broke off toward their assigned rooms, the quiet stretching with each step. But when the lights dimmed and the facility settled into stillness, none of them found sleep—only the echo of what they'd faced, replaying in the dark.
◇ ◇ ◇
The next morning, Rai stepped out into the cool, pale light, expecting the facility's main area to be empty. Instead, the others were already there—scattered across the space, each caught in their own silence. No one spoke. No one needed to. The weight of yesterday still lingered between them, unspoken but heavy.
A faint tone buzzed from the node screen at the center of the room, its glow brightening.
Theo was mid-sentence, leaning on the back of a chair. "I'm telling you, if we're gonna be stuck in there all day, I'm starting a—"
The screen cut him off with a crisp, automated voice.
"Attention, all units. Remain in your assigned facilities for the remainder of the day. Rest and recovery are mandatory. Failure to comply will result in disciplinary measures."
The message repeated once, then faded into the hum of the vents.
Theo blinked. "Well… there goes my rebellion."
Kael glanced at him from his seat, unimpressed. "You'd last five minutes before getting caught."
"Five's generous," Zeyra muttered, still standing near the wall. Her voice had no bite—just a flatness that made it clear she wasn't joking.
Theo looked between them, lips twitching like he wanted to keep the banter going, but something in the air made him think better of it. Instead, he sank into the couch, gaze fixed on nothing.
The silence lingered, stretching too long to be comfortable.
Liora sat on one of the couch, knees pulled close, her hands idly turning over the small ring she always wore. Myren leaned against the far pillar, arms folded, eyes in shadow, as though waiting for something unspoken.
No one mentioned what happened. They didn't have to. Whatever it was, it had followed them back here—and it wasn't leaving.
The quiet pressed in until Liora finally looked up, her voice soft but steady.
"If we're stuck here all day," she said, "we might as well make the place look… less like a storage unit."
Theo's head tilted. "Lively, huh?" A slow grin formed. "Alright then—chores."
Zeyra gave him a flat stare. "That's your idea of lively?"
"Better than sitting around waiting for the walls to close in," he said, already looking toward the cluttered shelves and untouched common area like he was planning an ambush.
Kael leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "I'm not cleaning anything."
"Perfect," Theo said, pointing at him. "You're on trash duty."
Kael didn't even blink. "You're going to regret that."
Myren, still leaning against the pillar, smirked faintly just enough for Theo to notice.
Zeyra finally spoke, arms uncrossing as she stepped toward the small kitchen alcove.
"I'll cook," she said simply.
Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, cook? We're actually gonna eat? You know we spent all of yesterday in that ring without touching a single crumb, right? I thought hallucinating dinner was just part of the experience."
Liora smiled faintly from her seat. "I'll take the garden. It looks like it hasn't been touched in weeks."
Rai shrugged. "Guess I'll handle vacuuming."
Myren, still leaning in his quiet shadow, finally spoke. "Laundry."
Theo's grin widened. "Perfect. That leaves me with maintenance and tech stuff."
Kael immediately frowned. "Why do you get to do the fun part?"
"Because unless any of you secretly moonlight as an engineer, I'm the only one who knows which wires not to cross," Theo shot back. "Also, I like pressing buttons. It's a gift."
Kael's scowl deepened. "So I'm stuck with trash duty?"
Before Theo could answer, Zeyra looked over his shoulder. "Trash duty and doing the dishes."
For a moment, Kael's pride wrestled with his expression. He didn't agree out loud—but he also didn't argue. The faintest curl of a smirk touched his lips as Zeyra turned back to the counter, unnoticed by most… but not by Theo.
The facility soon hummed with a kind of uneasy life.
In the kitchen, Zeyra moved with sharp precision, chopping vegetables like each slice was a personal judgment. The air filled with the scent of sizzling spices, but she didn't hum or speak—only the rhythmic thud of her knife against the cutting board broke the silence.
Out in the main room, Rai pushed the vacuum across the floor with an absent look, the machine's low drone almost hypnotic. Every so often, he'd pause mid-motion, eyes distant, before shaking himself and continuing.
Liora knelt in the sunlit corner by the sliding glass door, tending to the potted plants. Her fingers brushed over each leaf as if making sure they were still real, still alive. She worked slowly, as though the greenery might vanish if she rushed.
Myren stood in the laundry alcove, folding clothes with methodical care. He didn't look up once, but now and then his hands stilled—folding a shirt and holding it in place longer than necessary before setting it aside.
Theo was sprawled under a panel near the common area, tools scattered around him. "If I die in here because one of these wires explodes, someone better tell my family I went out like a hero," he called.
From the corner, Kael shot back, "Pretty sure you'll just get 'death by stupidity' on your record."
"And yet," Theo replied, waving a screwdriver without looking up, "you'd miss me."
From across the room, Rai switched off the vacuum, straightening up. Kael waited until Rai rolled the vacuum away before moving in, grabbing the facility's trash bin with one gloved hand. He gave it a once-over and muttered, "I hope there's an incinerator here somewhere."
Theo's voice came muffled from under the panel. "Nope. There's actually an organic and recycling power generator out back. Part of your job is to separate them and dump it there."
Kael's pride bristled instantly. "Why are you acting like you're the boss?"
Theo slid out from under the panel, eyebrows raised. "I'm just trying to help."
Kael made a quiet, dismissive sound in his throat but didn't push it further, dragging the bin toward the door.
Despite the occasional teasing, the air between them stayed thick, as if yesterday's trial was still watching from the edges of the room.
With nothing else to do, Rai wandered down the side hall. The hum of the laundry machines had long since faded, but the faint scent of clean fabric still hung in the air. Inside, Myren stood in the narrow laundry room, motionless, a neatly folded stack of clothes sitting untouched on the counter.
"You're… still here?" Rai asked, leaning against the doorway.
Myren glanced at him briefly, then back to the pile. "Yeah."
"Rai stepped inside, glancing at the perfectly folded pile. "You know you're done, right?"
"I know."
"So what—do you like laundry rooms, or are you hoping the clothes will fold themselves again if you stare long enough?"
Myren's mouth twitched, almost a smile. "It's quiet here."
"Yeah, but it's quiet everywhere. You don't seem like the type to hide from people."
"I'm not hiding. Just… not ready to go back out there yet."
Rai tilted his head. "I know what that feels like."
Myren's eyes flicked toward him, just for a second. "Then you get it."
Rai leaned against the counter beside him. "Guess we've both had our fill of being looked at lately."
That earned him a faint glance, something sharper in Myren's eyes before it smoothed out. "You could say that."
They stood there for a while, neither rushing to end the conversation. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't uncomfortable either—just two people letting the silence settle between words.
◇ ◇ ◇
The laundry room's hum was replaced by a sudden burst of voices from the main area. Rai and Myren stepped out just in time to see Kael storming in, streaked with damp leaves and soggy paper, muttering curses under his breath.
Theo was crouched by an open maintenance panel, a toolkit at his side, smirking before Kael even reached him. "So… judging by the compost on you, I take it the waste run went well?"
Kael's glare could have cut steel. "You didn't tell me about the trash-bots."
"They're not trash-bots," Theo replied, infuriatingly calm, "they're automated sorters. Perfectly harmless if you—"
Kael didn't wait for the explanation. He lunged, aiming to smear his filthy hands across Theo's shirt.
But Theo already moved. He sidestepped with unnatural precision, leaving Kael's swipe to cut empty air. The space where he'd been rippled faintly, a ghost of displaced energy.
Kael froze mid-lunge. "You just..."
"That's my Eidon," Theo said with a casual shrug. "Try keeping up."
That was the last straw. Kael's smile died, replaced by a shadow of something colder. He tugged his gloves off slowly, fingers curling and uncurling as faint, vein-like lines began spreading across his bare palms. The couch arm nearest him began to fray, threads unraveling into dust; a nearby metal stool groaned as the edges warped and corroded.
Theo straightened, his own focus narrowing. "You really want to do this?"
Kael stepped forward.
The air thickened, crushing in from all directions. The temperature dropped; the sound in the room warped, muffled, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Zeyra stood at the corridor entrance, her presence slicing through the tension like a blade drawn in absolute silence. Her eyes burned gold—not glowing, but deep, and merciless.
When she spoke, her voice wasn't loud, but it reverberated through bone and thought.
"Stand. Down."
The words weren't a request—they were a sentence.
Kael's breath hitched. His knees threatened to give, not from weakness, but from the sudden, suffocating certainty that if he didn't obey, something in him would be torn apart—not physically, but fundamentally.
Theo didn't move, but even he faltered, his eyes flickering for a moment under the weight.
Zeyra stepped forward, each pace making the air press harder, the sensation of judgment swelling until it felt like their very souls were being weighed. "You're not proving anything here. Put the gloves back on."
Kael's pride screamed to resist, but the force of her Eidon left no space for defiance—only submission. Slowly, with a quiet click of leather, he slid his gloves back on.
The pressure vanished. Everyone exhaled like they'd been pulled from the deep end of the ocean.
Kael flexed his gloved fingers once, then turned his head slightly, not looking away from Theo. "What was that?"
Theo's tone was flat, almost too calm. "Guess we just found out what happens when we stop holding back."
Zeyra gave them both one last look before turning toward the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, voice lighter but still carrying that edge.
"Well… breakfast—" she glanced at the clock, "—or should I say lunch—is ready."
From the upper walkway, Rai and Myren descended into the main area, footsteps soft against the metal grating. The faint scent of herbs and something warm, earthy, and savory drifted through the air, coaxing them closer.
Liora slipped in from the garden a moment later, the faint scent of damp soil clinging to her clothes. A few flecks still dotted her sleeves, and she brushed them away with absent swipes of her hand.
Zeyra emerged from the kitchen with a tray balanced neatly in her hands, steam curling up from bowls and plates. The rich smell hit them fully now—comforting in a way none of them realized they'd missed until that moment. She set the food down along the long dining table, movements precise but unhurried, and placed two bowls directly in front of Theo and Kael first.
"When the both of you are done eating," she said, tone even but carrying a quiet edge, "you better fix the couch you broke."
Theo gave a sheepish half-smile but didn't comment. Kael, for his part, only raised a brow and shifted slightly in his seat, his pride too intact to offer a reply.
Liora, still brushing dirt from her hands, glanced between the two of them. "What happened?"
"Just boys being stupid," Zeyra replied flatly, eyes already back on arranging the rest of the plates.
Rai and Myren took seats opposite each other, their quietness making the air feel almost ceremonial. Theo immediately dove into his meal, eating with the kind of gusto that suggested it had been far too long since his last decent serving. Kael, in contrast, ate with slow, deliberate movements, as though each bite were some stately affair.
Rai didn't lift his spoon until everyone else had theirs in front of them. Myren, in his usual understated manner, didn't start until Rai did.
Zeyra set the empty tray aside and wiped her hands on a folded cloth. "Soup with a bunch of vegetables and meat," she said. "Made do with what I found in the kitchen storage."
"There are plants in the garden," Liora said, "and a small poultry unit out back. If we keep it maintained, we can sustain ourselves for a while."
"This is delicious," Theo said between mouthfuls, voice muffled but sincere.
"Agreed," Liora added warmly, reaching for her cup.
They finished their meal in relative peace—quiet clinks of spoons and the soft hum of conversation filling the main area—until Theo leaned back in his chair and asked, with an almost boyish grin, "Seconds?"
Zeyra didn't even look up from gathering the empty dishes. "Not until you fix the couch." Her tone left no room for negotiation.
Theo let out a long, exaggerated groan, but he still pushed back his chair and stood. Kael followed a moment later, slower and with the stiff posture of someone who felt the task beneath him.
They moved toward the couch in the corner, both crouching down to inspect the damage. Most of the wooden frame was intact, but the lower supports had splintered and several sections of the fabric were badly frayed. The more they tried to align it, the worse it seemed to fit together. It was clear that something had unraveled more than just the outer structure.
Liora crossed her arms and stepped closer, watching them with the disapproving look of someone catching younger siblings in the middle of a pointless quarrel. "You two seriously can't keep this up," she said, voice firm. "Just fix it and stop acting like children."
Something in her tone, sharp but not unkind, must have struck home. They tried again, but even with cooperation, the couch remained crooked, one leg slightly shorter than the rest, and the seat cushions tilting at an awkward angle.
"Well," Theo muttered, stepping back with a half-shrug. "It's… mostly fixed."
Zeyra glanced over and raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, choosing instead to collect the rest of the dishes.
At the table, Myren rose with his usual quietness. Rai glanced over at him. "Where are you going?"
"The library," Myren replied simply, heading toward the inner hall. After a moment's hesitation, Rai stood and followed, the two of them disappearing into the quieter corridors beyond.
Liora and Zeyra remained in the dining area, chatting in low tones—half about the half-fixed couch, half about the stubborn pride of boys.
Back near the couch, Theo and Kael lingered in the awkward silence of unfinished business. Finally, Theo broke it. "Wanna play a game on the node?"
Kael gave him a flat look. "That thing definitely doesn't have a game"
Theo's smirk was small but certain. "I tweaked it."
Kael tilted his head, curiosity finally breaking through his pride. Without another word, the two made their way toward the console hub, ready to settle their differences not with tools, but in the sharp, competitive thrill of a duel inside Theo's modified simulation RPG.
The hours slipped by almost without notice. Theo and Kael's "duel" in the simulation hub stretched far longer than either would admit, broken up by occasional rematches and mock insults. Liora joined in for a round or two, her strategic playstyle catching both boys off guard.
Elsewhere, the library proved to be a quiet refuge. Rai and Myren sat among towering shelves of digital archives and preserved hardcopy volumes, each absorbed in different worlds; Rai in a historical account of Eidon awakenings, Myren in a worn anthology of old philosophies. They barely spoke while reading, but when they did, it was with a kind of measured curiosity that carried from one subject to another.
By the time they all drifted back to the main room, the sun had dipped low outside, the light turning copper through the high windows.
Kael stretched with a sigh, standing from the console. "Alright," he said, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeves, "I've gotta go do the dishes before Zeyra decides to murder me in my sleep."
Theo smirked without looking away from the screen. "Careful, wouldn't want you unraveling the plates too."
Kael gave him a look that was halfway between annoyance and an unspoken touché, then turned toward the kitchen.
At that same time, Rai and Myren emerged from the corridor, their voices low but animated as they traded thoughts about the books they'd read.
"—and you're telling me the author never actually defines what an 'Eidon echo' is?" Rai was saying.
Myren gave a slight shrug. "Not directly. It's… implied. Which makes it more interesting."
Before Rai could answer, the main door to the facility gave a low mechanical hiss and slid open. Cold evening air spilled into the room.
A figure stepped in—silhouette framed by the dying light, features shadowed in the doorway.
Kael froze mid-step, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell are you?"
The figure didn't answer. They simply stood there, unmoving, as the last light of day bled away.