The first days at CADE-C blurred together.
Every morning, I woke to the soft hum of the headquarters, the corridors empty except for the distant echo of boots against metal floors. I made my way to the training room where Cai was waiting, perched on its chair like an eager student. Its holographic eyes flickered as I approached.
"Good morning, Alex!" it greeted cheerfully, bouncing slightly. "Today, we'll continue Vel Gear protocols. Don't worry, I've prepared some exercises for you!"
I nodded, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The Vel Gear sat on its stand, polished and humming faintly, waiting for me like a coiled weapon. Over the past few days, I had grown accustomed to the way it attached to the arm, how it synced with my movements, and the subtle interface that allowed me to activate and control its abilities. Cai guided me through drills repeatedly—simulated captures, energy calibrations, containment sequences.
"Remember," Cai reminded as I fumbled with a containment tether, "precision is key. Anomalies are unpredictable. One misstep, and the field agent becomes the anomaly's problem!"
By mid-morning, my arms ached, and my mind felt stretched thin. But Cai's instructions were thorough, almost painstaking, and I knew that every small motion I perfected here could mean survival in the field. Vellinson, ever silent, sat in the back of the room, observing but rarely intervening.
When the drills ended, we walked to the cafeteria. The corridors, as always, were nearly empty. Even in a facility of this scale, there were few people around during these hours. It made the space feel massive, echoing with my own footsteps.
The cafeteria smelled faintly of toasted bread and brewed coffee, a comforting contrast to the sterile halls. I grabbed a tray and poured a cup of what tasted like watery coffee before finding a seat next to Vellinson.
He gave me a small nod. "You're getting the hang of it," he said simply, tearing a piece of bread. "Orientation ends eventually. The real lessons start with your team."
I nodded back, taking small bites while keeping my mind half on the food, half on the displays of timelines, galaxies, and anomalies that had filled the past days. It felt… almost normal. Strange, considering that just a week ago, I had been frozen in a cryogenic pod.
The day wore on. In the evening, I returned to my room. The window overlooked the galaxy; stars stretched endlessly beyond, glittering like shards of glass scattered across black velvet. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring for hours, letting the quiet hum of the station sink into me. My eyes drooped, and eventually, exhaustion claimed me. I fell asleep there, dreaming of stars and timelines, Cai's holographic voice echoing faintly in my mind.
Morning came again. I prepared quickly, retracing the same corridors, meeting Cai for another session, repeating drills until they felt almost natural. Breakfast was quiet, routine. Vellinson walked alongside me, his presence comforting. No words were necessary.
And then… I met them.
Two figures waited for me at the designated briefing area. Helena and Peter, as I was informed by Vellinson, were my new team for field assignments.
Helena was immediately striking—jet-black hair cascading over one shoulder, but her half-beast heritage was evident in the faint, lupine slant of her eyes, the subtle sharpening of her canines when she spoke. Her movements were fluid, predatory, yet controlled.
Peter, in contrast, looked almost ordinary at first glance—green hair, pale skin, the casual stance of someone confident but not reckless. His eyes, though, held a sharp focus, the kind of clarity born from years in combat.
Both were new to this, just like me. Probably blackmailed by that Asshole of a section chief.
They nod at me. Helena's expression was neutral, unreadable, while Peter's slight smirk suggested amusement at my wide-eyed awe of the station.
Vellinson stepped aside, letting me step closer. "This is your team," he said quietly. "Helena, Peter. You'll be working together on containment and elimination runs. Learn fast. Survive faster."
I swallowed. Somehow, despite the comfort I had found in routines and the quiet presence of Vellinson, my pulse picked up again. The real world—the field, anomalies, containment—was waiting for me. And now… I had teammates. Allies.
I straightened my back, looking between Helena and Peter. My hand tightened around the card in my pocket. If I could survive, I would. And if I couldn't… I would make sure I stood beside the strongest.
...
The simulation dome hummed as we stepped inside. The air shifted, thick with the scent of rain on concrete, the faint rust of a city just after dusk. Cai's voice came through our comms, calm and cheerful.
"Welcome to the scenario! Your objective: identify and neutralize the anomaly. Observation and deduction are key. The environment simulates a city block in which a temporal deviation occurred. Begin at the crime scene!"
The holographic streets flickered into life, buildings rising around us. Empty storefronts, scattered debris, a broken streetlight swaying in a digital wind. Even though it was a simulation, it felt… real.
"Stay alert," Vellinson said quietly from the observation deck. "Follow the clues. Remember, the anomaly thinks like a human. Predict, don't react."
The Scenario was as follows:
On the Night of January 14th, 1932 in Blaz, three kids were killed by a murderer in cold blood. But then, the anomaly struck. Instead of three, he killed the entire orphanage.
Our mission was to trace the man, and capture him. And this would start at the Orphanage.
We moved as a unit. The orphanage stood ahead, small and decrepit, windows cracked, doors ajar. Cai's voice came softly in my ear.
"Look for temporal irregularities. Scan for traces of the anomaly."
Peter led the way, heavy-footed but careful, scanning the streets. Helena melted into the shadows immediately, disappearing from sight but tracking with uncanny precision. I followed, Vel Gear humming lightly on my arm.
Inside the orphanage, we found the chaos. Broken furniture, scattered books, toys crushed underfoot. The smell hit me first—a mix of dust, decay, and something worse I couldn't name. My stomach twisted violently. I knelt, trying to focus, but the sight of the tiny, shattered shoes and broken toys made my throat clench.
"These… they were killed mercilessly…" I said quietly, but my voice wavered. My stomach lurched, and before I could stop it, I gagged, dry-heaving into the corner. Peter shot me a brief, concerned glance, but said nothing, letting me collect myself.
I wiped my mouth with shaking hands, trying to force my mind back to the task. "He moved chaotically, yet controlled… not a single soul escaped. Not a single kid or caretaker. Damn it… Find the clues! Follow the paths… look at the points of contact."
Helena's whisper came from above. "I see a Knife. Probably his weapon."
I found it, the cold metal in my hand. Cai highlighted it in the comms. "Excellent. Evidence collected. Cross-reference with local stores."
The simulation shifted, a narrow street appearing before us, lined with closed shops. We entered a knife store. Peter leaned against the counter, trying to look casual. "Excuse me," I said, "we're tracing a purchase. Knife matching this model?"
Cai's voice guided us: "Query the records. The purchase leads to a suspect."
They gave us the address—a quiet, abandoned street. Windows boarded, graffiti layered over older graffiti. At the end stood a lone house, darkened and silent.
"Stay sharp," Helena murmured in the comms. "I'm going in the shadows."
Inside, the house smelled of decay. Broken toys lay scattered across the floor like scattered memories. I traced them slowly, feeling the heaviness of the scene. Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow could hide a threat.
We descended into the basement. The air was colder here, thick with the weight of what had happened. Even more broken toys littered the ground. I swallowed hard, my stomach turning at the sight, and for a moment I had to grip the Vel Gear tightly just to steady my trembling hands.
And then we saw him—a man clutching a child, eyes darting, knife raised.
Peter stepped forward, voice firm. "Put the kid down. It's over!"
I stayed back, communicating over comms. "Keep him talking. Helena, where are you?"
A whisper: "Shadows. I'll handle this."
The man swung, panicked. Peter kept him talking, raising questions, distracting him. I shifted my weight, fingers brushing the Vel Gear's activation switch. Helena struck from above, a blur in the darkness. The man recoiled, startled, letting go of the child.
I extended the Vel Gear. Energy coils shot out, wrapping around the anomaly. It struggled, knife clattering to the ground, but the gauntlet sucked him in, compressing him until he became a small, glowing box in my hand.
Cai's voice rang cheerfully through the comms. "Simulation success! Observation, coordination, and timing—all executed perfectly. Alex, your Vel Gear capture was textbook. Helena's stealth and Peter's distraction ensured minimal risk. Well done, Team!"
I exhaled, holding the small box in my hand, heart still racing. The simulation dissolved around us, the city fading into the sterile white of the dome.
Vellinson's voice cut in quietly. "Good work. The goal here wasn't combat. It was deduction, coordination, and staying alive. Remember this. Real anomalies will test every skill you just used."
I looked at Helena and Peter, both adjusting to the sudden calm. Helena's eyes flicked to me, unreadable but approving. Peter gave a small grin. "Not bad, Buddy. You didn't panic much."
I nodded, letting the adrenaline fade. My hands still trembled slightly. The Vel Gear rested comfortably on my arm, humming softly. Not flashy, not destructive—just precise, just perfect for the job.
For once, I felt... Like I belonged.