Tee heard her death sentence. She got up and started scanning the kitchen, eyes narrowing at the mountain of dishes.

  “What are you doing?” Kie asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Why don’t we have a dishwasher?” Tee muttered, her voice tight with dread.

  “I never had one at my home,” Saeda commented, eyes following Tee’s gaze. “It means you’ll have to wash the dishes with your hands.”

  Seeing how devastated Tee looked and thinking she was overreacting, Kie tried to lighten the mood. “We can wash dishes together.”

  They all turned to him.

  Kie clarified, “I don’t mean wash dishes together, but as in turns. We can alternate,” he looked at her, “Unless you want us to wash them together.”

  Tee blurted out, “That won’t be necessary.” The thought of seeing his scars too close while scrubbing and throwing up—potentially messing up the dishes she would have just cleaned, made her stomach churn.

  Looking at the pile of dishes that had accumulated over several days, Tee decided, “We’ll wash on shifts. Kie, you can start today.”

  Kie stepped back, stunned by the cold-heartedness of the white-haired witch before him. She had no sympathy—but he wasn’t going to back down.

  “Fine,” he said, forcing a calmness he didn’t feel. “I’ll start the shift.”

  Zod and Miko glanced at the towering stack of pots and plates. Kie was serious.

  “See, Tee,” Saeda added, “that’s how a responsible adult behaves.”

  They ate breakfast, and as usual, added more dirty dishes to the ever-growing pile. Kie’s jaw tightened, but Zod gave him a nod of encouragement. “Dude, you’ll get through it.”

  That day’s training proved that the Commander was just getting started. Through another Vortex, the cadets arrived at a new location. The sun rose over misty mountains, casting long shadows across the temple steps where they gathered, still groggy and uncertain.

  The Commander wasted no time. “Today, your bodies will be broken and remade.”

  Carrying Water Buckets Uphill:

  The first challenge began immediately. Wooden poles balanced across their shoulders, buckets sloshing full of water at either end. One stumble meant a spill—and immediate punishment. Do it over.

  The temple stairs seemed endless, each step burning into their legs. Tee pushed forward, jaw tight, while others struggled beneath the shifting weight. Miko, agile as she was, logged behind, hating the oppressive heaviness of the task.

  As usual, Kie and Tee took the lead. Tee hated thinking about the dishes he had to face later, yet she could not force herself to help. She loathed the act of washing them and couldn’t handle the closeness of his scars.

  Later that day, after a brief nap to recover, she glimpsed past the kitchen. Kie’s back was to her as he dunked pots into the water, scrubbing silently. The thought of helping him irked her. She admitted she was a witch—but why didn’t someone else help?

  She wandered to find Saeda sweeping leaves in the courtyard by the pool. Tee admitted that Saeda did her share to keep things clean—almost like she must do at home. Yet Tee realized she didn’t really know much about her fellow cadets, apart from Zod, who talked too much, and Saeda, whose abilities no longer worked.

  It was clear that the Commander had endless methods to push them, making them all the more curious about the mission to extinguish the Harbingers. That task lingered in the back of their minds, nagging quietly.

  Running Through the Bamboo Forest:

  Without rest, the cadets were hurled into a bamboo grove. The Commander ordered them to sprint in formation, dodging swaying stalks and hidden traps strung between the trees. Several crashed through, earning bruises.

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  Tee weaved gracefully, her rhythm and breath guiding her steps. Zod struggled to keep pace, smacking into a bamboo branch and drawing laughter from the group. By the end, stamina separated the strong from the struggling.

  Meditation Under the Waterfall:

  The group was next brought to a roaring waterfall. They had to sit cross-legged beneath its crushing weight, forcing stillness in the chaos. The water pounded like hammers against their backs and skulls, but movement was forbidden.

  Breathing became a battle. Zod cried out, stumbling away defeated. Kie closed his eyes, focusing inward until the noise of the world faded. For the first time, the team noticed his inner calm.

  Whatever calm Tee had gained vanished immediately. She soon found herself back in the kitchen with dirty pots and plates. She decided to wait until after dinner to wash them, allowing everything from breakfast and dinner to pile up—a brutal kind of procrastination.

  At the end of each grueling day, the five teens would relax to heal themselves. When it wasn’t Kie’s turn for the dishes, they gathered in the telegram emitter room to watch movies during global curfew. One series, Everybody Hates Xeno, chronicled the misfortunes of a Xeno-victim named Xeno.

  Tee watched as her teammates laughed hysterically at Xeno’s misadventures—like failing a driver’s test in the most catastrophic ways imaginable. Zod leaned forward, laughing until tears streamed down his face. Tee’s irritation flared. “What an idiot!” he called.

  When no one objected, it confirmed her suspicion: they were Xenophobes. Tee didn’t fake laughter to fit in.

  When Xeno got thrown through a window in the next scene, the room erupted in laughter. Tee felt mocked, remembering all the bullying of Xeno-victims—spit on, tripped in the halls, lockers trashed, liquid poured on her seat. It was unfair. They looked down on them for what they could not control.

  A fire ignited within her. She would prove herself, surpass them in everything, and leave them no chance to belittle her.

  Morning mist hung thick over the river valley, curling around ancient stones and glinting off the fast-moving water. The cadets gathered, nerves tight and muscles coiled. The Commander promised they would face the balance of the world itself.

  Stepping Stones Across Rapids:

  The river foamed violently, hungry to drag anything into its depths. Stones jutted from the current, slick with moss, spaced just far enough apart to demand precise leaps.

  “Cross,” the Commander barked, voice cutting through the spray.

  Tee stepped first, forcing her breath steady. Each stone shifted underfoot, treacherous and slick. She moved with the rhythm of the water, testing before committing.

  Behind her, Saeda cursed, slipping on moss. Her hand shot out, clutching Tee’s arm. The tug threw Tee off balance, and the icy river surged up around them, crashing against her ribs. She fought to breathe, kicking hard until she broke the surface.

  On the bank, two cadets dragged Saeda out with a hooked pole. Tee clawed herself onto rocks, chest heaving, soaked to the bone.

  “Sorry, Tee,” Saeda spat.

  Tee couldn’t forgive her—not yet. The laughter from Everybody Hates Xeno and the memory of Xeno-victims’ humiliation lingered. She had to be the best. Determined, she rose.

  Kie crossed the stones next, calm as a shadow. His soaked shirt clung to his scarred frame, a faint purple tattoo peeking beneath his sleeve.

  After that, bruises and scrapes became routine. Oddly, every injury healed the next day. Zod speculated it was due to the food supply—a cruel experiment of accelerated healing supplement disguised as training to eliminate the Harbingers. It sounded more credible than being Sentinels, chosen protectors of the planet.

  Balancing on Wooden Poles in the River:

  Poles wedged into the riverbed, tops just wide enough for one person to stand. The current pressed relentlessly. A misstep meant immersion in icy water.

  Tee climbed onto her pole, core tight, toes gripping slick wood. Across from her, Zod lunged, fists pumping. The pole swayed violently beneath him, but Tee moved with the rhythm, striking just out of reach. Zod toppled backward with a splash, teeth chattering as he clawed himself onto the bank.

  Kie stepped onto his pole next, shifting with uncanny ease. Tee circled him carefully, testing, striking lightly. A push from Kie broke her balance, plunging her into the river. Air burned in her lungs, muscles stiffening, teeth rattling from the cold. She surfaced, gasping and shivering, while Kie stood poised, one hand raised in mock apology.

  “Sorry,” he called, voice calm. “It’s not personal.”

  Tee glared, humiliation mixing with cold.

  Walking Across Hot Coals:

  A bed of glowing coals stretched before them, heat radiating like a living entity. Zod balked. “I’m not doing that.”

  One by one, the others agreed with him. The Commander remained unmoved.

  “I’ll do it,” Tee said, eyes narrowing.

  They stared at her as if she were mad. Barefoot, she ran across the coals. Each step sent stabbing pain through her soles, forcing a scream from her lips with every jump. When she reached the other side, tears streaked her face, a mix of relief and regret washing over her. The burns left a lingering sting, the smell of scorched flesh filling the air and rattling the others who had watched in shock.

  Training ended early for her that day; no one else dared attempt the fire after witnessing her ordeal. Deep down, Tee felt a surge of triumph—she had proven herself superior to them. For now, that was enough.

  By morning, the burns had vanished completely, confirming Zod’s healing-food experiment. Yet knowing that their wounds would mend offered no comfort—the pain had been just as sharp, just as real.