Tee’s eyes flickered open, drawn to the sharp knock on the door that had shattered the fragile stillness of the night. Her body stiffened as the echoes bounced off the walls, cutting through the lingering shadows.

  The alarm clock beside her bed glowed—4 a.m.—its red digits glaring like tiny warning lights. One side of the room was cloaked in darkness, the curtain drawn tight, allowing only slivers of dim light to creep in.

  Outside, the world was a hushed void, the early hour keeping everything shrouded in gray-black silence. A chill crawled along the floorboards, and the faint scent of dew and damp earth drifted in from the open window, tugging at memories of a morning far older than this one.

  Tee rose slowly, her feet brushing the edge of a thick, plush carpet that softened each step as she made her way to the door. There, she found Miko, already waiting, her wide smile a stark contrast to the oppressive shadows around them.

  “Morning,” Miko said, her voice carrying an energy Tee felt she could never summon at that hour. Tee returned the smile, tinged with guilt—she still hadn’t told her comrades her secret.

  Together, they descended the stairs. At the bottom, they found the others already awake, gathered around the lounge room table. On it lay an open box of neatly folded training attire, a silent invitation to the grueling day that awaited them.

  Zod picked up a note that came with the uniforms and read it aloud, his tone calm yet firm. It detailed the coordinates for the elevator and the location of the training hall—a cold, unyielding reminder of their purpose: to hunt and eliminate the Harbingers. The words hung in the air like a fog, heavy and suffocating.

  Kie, ever practical, rifled through the cupboards. “We should make something light,” he suggested, scanning for food with precise movements.

  “Pancakes,” Miko offered cheerfully, as though the weight of their mission could be softened by sugar and fruit.

  The group moved to the storeroom freezer, which groaned under the weight of three months’ worth of provisions. The air was thick with the scent of frozen meats and grains, a cold, metallic tang that clawed at their senses.

  Tee brewed the coffee deliberately, taking her time, savoring the warmth and aroma as a shield against the morning’s tension. The others busied themselves with the pancakes, layering vibrant fruits—berries, mango, slices of citrus—into a colorful mosaic that seemed almost a mockery against the darkness looming in their lives.

  When finished, the pancakes looked like something from another, more frivolous world. The taste was surprisingly pleasant, a brief reprieve before the storm of training.

  They found a connecting room with a long table and chairs. Silence fell as they ate, thicker than the previous day, as if yesterday’s laughter had been swallowed by anticipation or dread. Tee’s thoughts drifted to the coming training session. Could it possibly be worse than Mid-Guard? The memory made her shiver, though whether from fear or resolve she could not tell.

  Back in her room, Tee dressed, the fabric of the sweatpants cool against her skin. Her fingers traced her neck, where the elders had placed their mark. She applied her solvent carefully, removing the hidden residue, though the faint sigil of her curse remained.

  Using Petra’s concealer, she masked it once more, waiting five full minutes for it to settle before joining the others downstairs. They were already dressed in the matching training uniforms: white t-shirts, dark blue sweatpants, hand wraps tightly bound around their fists, ready for the rigors ahead.

  Following the instructions, they left the living complex, stepping into an elevator that seemed to hum with a strange energy. One precise floor coordinate later—a number that could not belong to a normal elevator—they stepped into a lonely corridor and reached the massive two-sided door.

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  Beyond it, the Commander awaited, poised and imposing. His presence seemed to warp the air itself, a gravity that pressed upon them all. Tee’s chest tightened; she could feel it in her bones. She could not bring herself to meet his piercing green eyes. He was the man who knew her secret.

  “Six a.m. sharp. Follow me,” the Commander’s voice broke the silence, low and commanding.

  The group fell in line, moving in careful unison behind him. Their steps echoed along the floor, a rhythm of obedience. Tee’s eyes scanned the vast room, taking in the soaring ceiling and the rows of square glass windows near the top. Dim morning light filtered through, while circular bulbs mounted on the ceiling and walls offered a muted glow.

  The space was vast, cavernous, filled with an array of training equipment: treadmills, punching bags, weightlifting stations, and strange mechanical contraptions whose purpose was unclear. Gymnastic rings hung from long ropes, swaying slightly, as if teasing the bold and punishing the reckless. Every corner of the room seemed to promise challenge, growth, or danger.

  The Commander stopped, pivoting to face them. Tee instinctively dropped her gaze to the black whistle dangling from his neck. His uniform was sharp: dark-blue pants lined with yellow stripes, a crisp white t-shirt, and the kind of posture that radiated authority.

  “Good morning, cadets,” he barked, each word cutting through the heavy silence. “From this day forward, you will train harder than you ever have in your lives. You will sweat, stumble, and rise again. You are no longer ordinary teenagers—you are cadets under my command.”

  He appraised them critically, a faint smile brushing his lips, though only he seemed to find it amusing. “Perhaps it is fortunate that the new Sentinels are young. Bones break, joints dislocate, yet the body snaps back. Easier to teach resilience that way.”

  “Training begins promptly at six a.m. every morning. Lateness is unacceptable,” he continued, voice sharp, edged with cold expectation. “I trust none of you indulged in recklessness last night. Sleep well—or risk disappointment. Your performance will dictate when you earn your first mission: extinguishing the Harbingers. Succeed, and you may return to your lives—but never unchanged.”

  The Commander raised his hand, instantly drawing Tee’s full attention. The thick glove he wore was unlike any ordinary protective gear.

  “This is not merely a glove,” he said. “It is a summoning glove, forged from the rarest technology in all of Geovalon. It will serve as your primary weapon until you awaken your Ultramite abilities.”

  Tee’s stomach knotted. Did he know about their powers? Were those gloves meant to compensate for their inadequacies? Their abilities were limited, not nearly enough to confront Harbingers directly. They needed weapons—a sword, a blade that could cut through flesh and bone.

  Saeda’s hushed whisper reached Tee’s ears, a moment of levity in the oppressive atmosphere. “I get it,” she said softly. “We’re supposed to slap someone with it.”

  Tee allowed herself a brief smile before the Commander closed the distance, standing directly before Saeda. His stern expression softened for the slightest moment, before returning to full intensity.

  “Ah, I was about to request a volunteer,” he said smoothly. “Judging by your comment, you already seem to understand. You will demonstrate the glove to your teammates.”

  Saeda’s eyes shifted from his face to the glove, panic clawing at her chest. Her visions had failed since arriving at Primus. She closed her eyes and tried to focus… nothing.

  “I—I don’t know how to use it,” she admitted, shoulders slumping as she returned the glove.

  The Commander took it calmly, and the cadets re-formed their line.

  “Observe,” he commanded.

  He raised his gloved hand, forming a fist with his thumb extended. Luminous blue lines flared across the surface of the glove. A massive sword appeared, its handle cradled between his fingers. The blade’s immense weight pressed into the wooden floor, gouging a deep trench where it landed.

  Tee’s heart pounded violently, a mixture of awe and fear clutching her chest. Shadows stretched long along the walls, the very air seeming to tighten around the cadets. Every sense was alive, every nerve screaming that that was only the beginning.

  Tee’s gaze drifted across the room once more, taking in the mechanical contraptions and familiar training tools from Mid-Guard. Each station promised a challenge, each shadow hinted at danger. She realized then that nothing would ever be simple in that place, not training, not survival, not the life she had left behind.

  The Commander’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, firm and absolute. “From this moment forward, you are no longer children. Every action will be measured, every decision tested. Fail, and the consequences will not wait for mercy.”

  Tee swallowed, hands clenching into fists beneath her hand wraps. The weight of the day pressed down on her like the sword itself, but beneath it all, a spark of resolve ignited. She would endure. She had no choice but to endure.