The first week with Apex locked away left the entire Acropolis on edge. Security doubled—no—tripled. AI-manned drones swept the mountain range day and night. Every agent walked with a hand near their sidearm. After the second week rolled in with no new incidents, the nerves started to fade. NEMESIS hadn't attacked. No signals. No raids. Just silence.
No one was stupid enough to relax, though.
To pass the time, Chase and the others buried themselves in their agent training. Combat ability refinement, live simulations. Atlas wanted more data to analyze. Director Shaw wanted to make sure he'd made the right decision in making them Atlas agents.
Chase wanted nothing more than to prove that he had.
All his life, he felt as if he'd been groomed to become the perfect soldier. To follow in his father's footsteps. The plan was to enlist in the army after graduating from West Point Military Academy. He'd climb the ranks fast, eventually leading his own team of men out into battle. He'd collect as many medals as he could.
He'd bring honor to his family.
But he couldn't do that. Not that way, at least.
Fulfilling his new purpose as an Atlas agent was his new calling.
Another week passed, and Director Shaw seemed to be satisfied with their progress. He let them pick out codenames and weapons for future missions. They were officially Atlas agents now.
Stella stuck with the steel bō staff she used in training. Emily, her compound bow and tactical arrows. Chase, though… He opted for something new.
A sword—twenty-seven inches of black-painted steel, navy hilt wrap—was forged specifically for him. It was heavier than the average blade, but it weighed almost nothing to him. The others teased him about it. They said he copied Apex's swagger. He denied it every chance he could. But it wasn't a coincidence he'd chosen the same weapon as the Prime. He'd never admit it, but the weapon choice was personal.
A challenge.
Swordsmanship wasn't something his father taught him. But that didn't mean he couldn't teach himself. He added sword training to his training schedule. He swore he'd master it. If he and Apex ever fought again, the brute force his abilities gave him wouldn't cut it.
He had to be more. He had to get better.
That's why he didn't stop at the sword. Engineers from the Forge fitted him with a holo-shield—the first of its kind. They managed to compact the cutting-edge technology into a sleek, lightweight bracelet that fit around his wrist. It responded to muscle movement and gesture commands; he didn't even attempt to understand the science behind it. The Forge and its labs were full of things he didn't fully understand.
All he knew it would make him that much harder to beat.
His boots echoed through the corridor leading to the newly built null-cells in Atlas's basement. His new sword rested across the magnetic holster strapped to his back. The metal thrummed softly as he walked.
Two guards stood at the massive titanium doors at the end of the shadowy hall.
"Just here for my daily appointment," Chase quipped, flashing his ID.
"Chase Masterson. Designation P1," announced the AI voice. "Welcome, Sentinel."
He'd been the last one to decide on a codename. He considered "Soldier" until Stella said it was too generic. During their morning run, she told him to pick something that meant something. She told him to pick a name that could be a symbol for others.
So, he picked Sentinel—the blue mascot of his River Hill High School. He hadn't spent much time there, but it ended up being the catalyst for everything that followed. When he moved town, he never thought he'd end up with superpowers, but life had a funny way of surprising people. Plus, it was where the six of them met for the first time.
They'd started calling themselves the Original Six—the world's first superhero team. The name was Theo and Oscar's idea. Chase wasn't sure how he felt about calling themselves superheroes just yet. They hadn't even been on their first official mission yet. He had to admit, though… It had a nice ring to it.
The reinforced doors of the Acropolis's impromptu prison split open.
Some of the agents dubbed it "The Abyss". There wasn't anything beyond this floor except for a chasm that dropped to the bottom of the mountain. The name was fitting.
The Abyss was wide and windowless, shaped like a C with walls of smooth concrete lined with dim floor lights. Each cell was a glass box with a biometric scanner beside it. A glowing information panel rested above the glass. Only one was occupied.
Apex sat cross-legged in the center of his cell. The top half of his jumpsuit was rolled down, revealing pale, scarred muscle covered in black and red tattoos that crawled down his arms, chest, and neck. His eyes were closed. He breathed in—slow and steady.
looked… calm. Too calm.
Chase stopped in front of him. He crossed his arms. "You planning on doing this monk thing forever, or what?"
Nothing.
He tried again, swinging his sword lazily, letting the light catch on the blade. "What's the snake mean?" He nodded toward the viper inked down Apex's forearm.
No response.
Chase's jaw tightened. "You can't keep this silent treatment up forever. You're a human being. You gotta talk to someone eventually."
Silence again.
His mouth twitched. He slammed his fist against the glass, the sound cracking through the quiet. The glass was reinforced to withstand a nuclear explosion, but had he hit it a little harder, it might've cracked.
Victor's eyes snapped open.
Blue. Calm. Unreadable.
"You sure are persistent," Apex murmured. His voice was lower than Chase remembered—cool, but with a hidden blade underneath. He rose and stretched, muscles flexing under his pale skin. "The snake represents cunning. Stealth. Danger." His lips curved. "Any more questions, Sentinel?"
Chase scowled. The name sounded wrong coming from him.
"Also," Apex continued, "we aren't human. Not anymore. We're Primes. Or did you forget that?"
He ignored him. Those were Klaus's words. NEMESIS propaganda. Their powers didn't make them any better than the next man. It only made them different. He jammed his hands in his pockets.
"What are you doing here?"
"I thought that was obvious." Apex gestured around the cell. "Serving my sentence."
"Cut the crap. You and I both know you didn't surrender to rot in a cell forever."
Apex's grin sharpened. "Maybe I got tired of running. Or maybe…" He tilted his head. "I'm exactly where I need to be."
Chase's stomach tightened. "You know, Klaus won't win. We're going to stop you."
"You and your friends couldn't even stop us from getting the last piece of our machine. That mission was a disaster."
Last piece?
Heat rose in his chest. He clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. If his skin weren't impenetrable, he would've drawn blood.
"Did I hit a nerve?" Apex asked lightly.
He was toying with him. Stella's voice echoed in his head—breathe, Chase. It helped, but barely.
"I've noticed they've got you babysitting me," Apex went on. "Did my father send you?"
Chase forced a breath through his teeth. "Why are you here?"
Apex scoffed. "This isn't a comic book, kid. I'm not telling you my plan."
His face lit up. "So, there is a plan. What'd your master tell you to get you to agree to this?"
The Prime sneered. He was already cracking. Persistence pays off.
Chase pretended to examine the surface of his sword. "You know, you've got one thing in common with all of those comic book villains."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. You all lose in the end."
The smile dropped from Apex's face. "He's not my master."
Chase arched a brow.
"Klaus. He's not my master."
"You trying to convince me or yourself?"
In an instant, Apex was there, inches from the glass. He hadn't teleported, just moved so fast it blurred. Chase flinched back on instinct, his holo-shield activating with an angry hum. Blue light bathed the stone walls.
"I'm going to enjoy killing you," Apex said, voice low, dangerous. For half a heartbeat, Chase swore his eyes flickered red. Then the moment passed.
The blond stood his ground. "You're in a cell without your powers. You're not killing anyone."
Apex exhaled slowly, then dropped back to the floor, resuming his meditative pose.
Conversation over.
Chase turned, muttering under his breath as he stomped to the exit. Apex's voice followed him, echoing through the metal chamber:
"The strong will survive! You can't stop us!"
Great. More NEMESIS garbage.
The titanium doors sealed shut behind him, cutting off the laughter that trailed after the words.
One of the guards at the entrance glanced up. "Any luck today?"
Chase shook his head.
"Better luck next time, eh, Sentinel?"
He forced a tight smile. "Yeah. Next time."
###
An annoyed groan left Chase's throat as he clicked the television off. Nothing good was on. Nothing good was ever on. The blue glow of the screen faded, leaving the common room dim and still. He sank deeper into the couch, content to sit in the dark and wallow in his own boredom.
His thoughts drifted back to his meeting with Apex earlier that day. He had a plan—he just didn't know what it was.
And it was starting to piss him off.
He glanced at his phone. Late. If he wanted to wake up early enough to train before official training started, he needed to crash soon. Still, his muscles throbbed from that morning's weight session. Breaking his bench record—over four thousand pounds—had sounded cool at the time. Now it just hurt.
The common room sofa was absurdly comfortable. Maybe I don't need to sleep in my bedtonight...
His eyelids drooped, heavy as lead. Sleep was ready to deliver its knockout punch.
"What are you still doing in here?"
Chase jolted upright, heart skipping. Saved by the bell. He relaxed, a grin tugging at his lips. Stella stood in the doorway, smiling. The soft glow from the hallway made her look almost angelic. He wasn't sure if it was the lighting, her abilities, or just…her.
"I was watching TV," he said, rubbing his eyes.
"Looks like the TV was watching you," she joked, stepping closer. The lamplight caught her golden legs and the waterfall of dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Chase blinked, caught staring. He had to make sure his jaw wasn't hanging open.
She tilted her head, teasing. "What? Is there something on my face?"
Swallowing hard, he shook his head quickly.
"What're you staring at me for then, Goldilocks?"
"Because you're beautiful," he wanted to say. He shrugged instead. Giggling, Stella dropped onto the couch beside him, forcing him to make room. Her bare leg brushed his, sending a small current through his chest. When he looked over, the bronze flecks in her hazel eyes shimmered like tiny stars.
Her cheeks flushed as she turned away. "So… how'd your babysitting session with Apex go today? Sorry I couldn't make it today. Emily wanted some help with target practice."
"Seems like you two are getting along better," he noted.
She see-sawed her hand. "I'm taking it slow. It'll be a long time before I gain her trust again." She pressed a finger onto his chest. He almost melted into the couch. "Don't change the subject. How'd it go today?"
He groaned. "First of all, it's not babysitting. It's called interrogating. You know—like a detective?"
"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving him off. "Did he tell you why he turned himself in?"
"Not even close." Chase exhaled through his nose. "But I did figure out me and him don't exactly get along."
Stella laughed. "Shocker. Didn't really peg you two for best friends."
"Fair," he admitted with a grin. Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence. Then she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. She didn't stop him.
"Do you think we really have a chance at stopping them?" she asked softly.
Chase stared at the black TV screen, his reflection distorted in the glass. He wanted to say yes. But, truthfully, he didn't know. They hadn't heard anything from NEMESIS since the Colorado factory mission. And Apex—whatever game he was playing—felt like a ticking bomb. He had a plan.
They didn't have much time until he acted on it.
But Chase refused to show doubt.
"We're going to stop them, Stella," he said quietly. "No matter what."
We have to.
The memory of Klaus's voice echoed in his head: The strong will survive.
His mind replayed the video Director Shaw had shown him—young Victor Shaw convulsing inside a glass cylinder, body tearing itself apart from the inside due to exposure to Primonium. Chase remembered his own agony after his infection. If it did that to Primes, incapacitating them for days while their powers developed, what would it do to anyone else?
NEMESIS wanted to unleash Primonium on everyone.
Millions would die.
We can't fail.
The sound of Stella's soft snoring pulled him back. Smiling, he ran a hand gently through her hair as silence filled the room. It smelled like strawberries and honey. Soon, his own eyes grew heavy.
Sleep delivered the final blow.
Before he knew it, he was out cold.
###
"Quick," someone whispered. "Take a picture before they wake up."
Chase stirred. The voice sounded far away, almost like it was coming through water. Familiar, but fuzzy.
And definitely not a dream.
His eyes snapped open. He'd always been a light sleeper. Growing up on Naval ships and military bases forced him to always be ready for whatever. But sleeping with Stella curled against him made him forget about all of that. His eyes darted around him. Throw pillows littered the floor except for the one under his head. He was stretched out across the couch—with Stella curled against him, fast asleep.
His gaze settled on Stella. For a moment, he just looked at her. He smiled.
It didn't last.
Snickering, Oscar wheeled around the sofa with his phone raised, grinning like a clown.
Chase frowned, then craned his neck to the side. Theo was posed behind the couch with a peace sign raised behind the enraged blond's head. Across the room, Emily and Andre watched from the opposite sofa, both trying—and failing—to hold in their laughter.
"Uh oh." Oscar lowered his phone.
Theo blanched. "Oh. Er…morning?" He flashed a sheepish smile.
Chase didn't bother replying. He just palmed Theo's chest—lightly, by his standards. Theo flew backward over the coffee table, taking a vase full of blue flowers with him. He and the ceramic hit the ground with a loud crash.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" Chase hissed.
Emily snorted. Theo groaned from the floor, rubbing his ribs. "Jeez, dude, I think you punched a hole through me!"
"You'll be fine. I pulled it," Chase said flatly. "Keep messing around, though, and I'll put you through that wall over there."
Theo raised both hands in surrender before retreating to the nearest chair.
Emily rolled her eyes at them. "We just came to tell you Director Shaw wants us in his office in ten minutes."
Stella stirred against Chase's chest, then blinked awake. "Where am I?"
"Damn, someone slept good," Oscar said, still laughing.
She sat up quickly, face redder than a stoplight, and slid to the far end of the couch. The others attempted to hide their amusement as they headed for the exit.
"Come on, lovebirds," Emily called over her shoulder. "Director Shaw said it's important."
Nodding, Chase ran a hand through his golden hair. Stella stood up, stretched, and then glanced back at him with the tiniest of smiles. His heart fluttered.
He'd had crushes before, but they never went anywhere. He never stuck around anywhere long enough to build connections with others. Leaving people was much easier when you barely knew them. But it didn't seem like any of them were leaving anytime soon. The white halls of the Acropolis were becoming cozier by the day; he even recognized a handful of the Atlas agents' faces as he passed them in the corridors.
Slowly but surely, this place was becoming home.
Stella, Theo, the others… They were the closest things to friends he'd ever had.
"You coming?" she asked him.
"Yeah." He grinned. "Yeah, I'm coming."
He stuck his hands into his pockets and followed her out.