The metallic hum of the facility had become almost a constant backdrop in my head, but today it felt sharper, heavier. The air seemed thick, like it carried whispers of danger we hadn’t yet seen. I was crouched over a terminal, scrolling through reports, while Noel leaned against the wall, watching silently, still learning how to be around people without letting the walls he built collapse entirely.Alex was across the room, standing over his own console, fingers moving fast, eyes narrowing as he connected dots that most would overlook. “Seth,” he said without looking up, his voice low, clipped. “I’ve got something. Patterns. Missing evolved children… all under ten, all with some control over powers, none with proper training. And every case has links to the Revolution.”I felt a chill run down my spine, even though I had expected this. “So it’s confirmed,” I said, my voice almost a growl. “They’re not just testing the waters. They’re actively recruiting—or forcibly taking—the next ge

The engine of the transport hummed beneath me, a low, constant vibration that I could feel in my bones. I sat in the front passenger seat, map laid across my lap, scanning streets, alleys, and industrial blocks as we approached the outskirts of Velkor. Noel was wedged in the back, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes flicking between the window and the dashboard lights. I could see him processing, calculating shadows, plotting potential routes. His hands tapped nervously against his knees—an unconscious rhythm that matched the pulse of the city outside.Alex drove, expression flat, but I knew him well enough to see the tension in his jaw. Cassandra 002 sat beside him, scanning the rearview monitor, silently alert. The weight of this mission wasn’t lost on any of us. Kidnapped evolved children. A Revolution with the audacity and cruelty to forcibly recruit powers. And a kid who’d run from worse than we could imagine, now riding shotgun with us.I finally tore my eyes from the map to look

The warehouse sat like a dark, forgotten beast at the edge of Velkor. Its windows were grimy, barred, some cracked, letting in slivers of moonlight that fell like knives across the concrete yard. Even from a block away, I could feel the tension vibrating through the air—the smell of machinery, rust, oil, and fear all blending together into a scent I had learned to recognize over the years.Noel crouched beside me behind a pile of crates, the shadows of broken pallets and stacked boxes curling around him like protective tendrils. I glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but it was hidden beneath the hood of his jacket and the low light. He had been quiet since leaving the transport, but I could feel the energy in him—the same restless, focused energy that had made him such a dangerous shadow jumper already.“Alright,” I whispered, keeping my voice low, calm, almost a hiss. “This is your first real infiltration. No simulations. No controlled lights, no obstacle courses. This is

The warehouse was silent now, save for the faint hum of machinery and the soft, irregular breathing of the dozen children we had rescued. The rest of the kidnappers lay unconscious or worse, a testament to Noel’s precision and efficiency. But two remained—alive, stubborn, and disturbingly calm.I approached them slowly, hand hovering near my sidearm, watching their eyes. They didn’t flinch. Didn’t panic. Not even a twitch betrayed fear. It was unnerving, to say the least. These weren’t ordinary criminals; they were evolved, or at least enhanced in some way. Their aura had that strange... detached quality, like someone had stripped away their thoughts and replaced them with rigid obedience.I crouched in front of them, careful to stay in the shadows, my voice calm but firm. “You’re going to talk. Names. Roles. Locations. Now.”They exchanged a glance, something passing between them I couldn’t read, and then one of them smirked. The expression didn’t reach his eyes—it was empty, mechani

The containment facility was quieter than usual that night, and not in the calm, controlled sense. It was the heavy, unsettling quiet that follows something violent, the kind of silence that isn’t peaceful—it’s thick, heavy, and impossible to ignore. Even the hum of the lights seemed louder, more intrusive, a reminder that the world outside never stopped moving, even as we tried to catch our breath.I watched the team carefully, knowing each of them processed trauma differently. Noel sat in the corner of the debrief room, legs drawn up, shadow coiling faintly around his wrist. He hadn’t spoken much since the mission, and I didn’t push. I knew that his silence wasn’t absence of thought—it was digestion. Processing. Maybe guilt. Maybe fear. Maybe simply disbelief at the reality of what had just happened.Alex leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, face neutral, as if nothing had touched him. But I could see it in the subtle tension of his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched ever so sli