Volume 3 — Part II ? Opening Chapter

  Snow scissored across the iron horizon, carving the world into white and steel.

  [Theta-9 — Weather Control Facility]

  Carter and Rei broke from a shadowed access tunnel, breath ghosting in the cold as floodlights combed the gale.

  They’d escaped the patrol.

  Barely.

  Then the front gate flared to life like a stage.

  A heavy grind shuddered the air—

  GNNNNNK—CHRAK!

  Two figures stepped into the wash of light.

  Trigger — revolver spinning, grin cut thin.

  Beside him stood a dark-haired boy the cameras had never caught. Calm. Unreadable.

  Too still for the storm.

  Carter’s jaw ticked. “Why’s Trigger here… and who’s the kid?”

  The gate finished opening — and a presence unfolded from the light like a verdict.

  Sentinel.

  ───────────────

  NATHANIEL “SENTINEL” WALKER

  Potestas | Rank 1 | US Division

  ───────────────

  Broad as a bulwark.

  No pomp.

  Only a matte coat and the weight of a nation in his stance.

  The wind bent around him — as if even the weather took orders.

  Color drained from Carter’s face. “When did Sentinel get here?”

  Rei’s breath frosted the air. “The question is why is he here.”

  She slid back into the tunnel’s throat.

  “Thought we were leaving…” Carter whispered.

  “We are,” Rei said without hesitation.“After we know what we’re leaving behind.”

  Carter exhaled miserably. “…Oh no.”

  The hatch groaned shut—

  SHHHK.

  In the space between safety and danger… they chose danger.

  ?

  Morning light shone on polished steel…

  Replica tied her cape with composed precision, the motion almost ceremonial. “Arcline was… gentlemanly yesterday. Efficient. Considerate.”

  Cascade’s gaze didn’t lift. “Mm.”

  K leaned against a locker, thinking deeply for an impressive half-second. “K.”

  Replica gave K a serious look, as if she knew what the word k meant at that moment. “…I am aware. Even if we are matched against him, my effectiveness will remain uncompromised.”

  K nodded once. “K.”

  Cascade’s mouth almost smiled.

  The door swept open with command and calm.

  Captain Seraph. “Girls — amphitheatre in an hour. Let’s not be late.”

  The cadets of Team Seraph replied in unison. “Yes, Captain.”

  ?

  On the other end of the hall, Titan’s trio stopped at a door with a sloppily handwritten note:

  [DO NOT DISTURB. I MEAN IT!!!]

  Lior knocked once—

  TUK-tuk.

  The door inched open.

  Inside —

  Grid death-gripping a bedframe like it paid his rent.

  Thorn and Silverline prying one finger at a time.

  “Let me go!” Grid barked. “I’m retiring! I forfeit the tournament! Leave me to my peace!”

  Thorn grinned. “Every morning — you fight the day and we have to drag you into it.”

  Silverline threw up her hands. “He enjoys the pain. Why else would we do this every day?”

  The door yawned wider—

  and Team Titan filled the frame.

  Silverline spotted Lior — cheeks flared red — and she sprinted to the bathroom. “I haven’t put my face on!”

  Grid stared flatly at Lior. “Well, if it isn’t the Edge-killer himself.”

  Lior’s laugh arrived two seconds late and three shades awkward, hand rubbing his neck.

  Ayasha folded her arms. “Come on Grid, you told us to make sure you guys were on time today.”

  Grid threw his head back at the ceiling. “Why do women keep interrupting my slumber?”

  Vitalis appeared behind Team Titan with a raised brow. “Jace.”

  Grid swallowed. “…I’m coming.”

  She winked at Titan’s trio on her way out. “Thanks for helping.”

  Jace let go of the bed, and let out a large exhale. “There is no peace in this place.”

  The words hit the room harder than Grid meant them to.

  He chuckled to change the mood. “Let’s go before we all get lumps from Vitalis.”

  ?

  The amphitheatre breathed with a hush it rarely remembered.

  Rows of cadets filled the tiers — young faces sharpened by sleepless nights and cold air.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  For the first time since their arrival, they weren’t divided by Team.

  Teams mixed: Titan beside Pulse beside Seraph beside Snapback — Selena among them — shoulders brushing, the murmur of half-nervous, half-hopeful voices echoing through the glass dome.

  Only three groups still sat apart: the remaining cadets of Null, Ironclad, and Edge.

  Their distance said everything.

  A low hum shivered through the air as the lights dimmed.

  A single figure stepped into the beam at center stage.

  She didn’t take the room — it knelt.

  President Seraphina Kaelen.

  Five-foot-four, posture cut from iron.

  Her jade eyes swept the room once — and silence obeyed.

  The black of her suit caught a faint emerald edge, the long coat tracing behind her like the closing line of a sentence that wouldn’t need repeating.

  Lior felt something pull tight in his chest. Authority, he thought. Not the kind that shouted — the kind that didn’t need to.

  “Cadets of Veritas,” she began, her voice low but unyielding. “I am Seraphina Kaelen, President of this facility.”

  A small wave of surprise rolled the benches.

  Speedy leaned forward, whisper-loud. “Our president’s a woman? How did I miss that?”

  Ayasha didn’t look at him. “They were scared a man would end up like you.”

  A clean slap of palms — Perma high-fived her mid-sentence.

  Lior smirked but didn’t join in. The tension in his shoulders hadn’t eased. Something about this speech felt bigger.

  “Your seeding is complete,” President Kaelen continued. “The results will remain sealed until the Tournament begins. When you see Director Xun, thank him — he secured three days of rest for you.”

  The sound that followed wasn’t celebration — it was disbelief breaking into relief.

  A hundred sighs disguised as laughter. “And when the Apex Trials begin,” she said, “they will be broadcast to every Veritas facility across the world.”

  A murmur swept the stands like wind through glass.

  Lior blinked. “Every facility?”

  President Kaelen put her hands behind her back as she paced across the stage.

  All presidents stand united in support of these trials — and our combined efforts to keep humanity safe.

  Lior glanced at Ayasha.“There’s… more than one Veritas?”

  “Four total,” she whispered back.

  Cael’s eyes lit behind his lenses. “It goes back to World War II. The U.S. President — FDR — helped form Veritas in secret with the two other Allied Powers, Britain and the Soviet Union. They distributed leadership, multiple facilities, multiple presidents, so no one could seize pow—”

  Ayasha snapped a finger in front of his face. “Enough lecturing. She’s still talking.”

  Kaelen’s voice shifted — softer, but heavier, like she’d crossed into memory.

  “These Trials did not begin with us. They were forged under Potestas.”

  The room chilled.

  Screens came alive overhead — faint silhouettes of combat, death, and steel.

  “Back then… they were to the death.”

  The silence that followed wasn’t confusion — it was collective recognition. Every captain in the seats knew that tone.

  Lior felt his pulse in his throat. She’s been through it.

  “But Veritas does not hide from truth,” Kaelen said. “We take what was once used to cull, and turn it into completion. Where they demanded blood to prove power…”

  Her gaze cut upward, every syllable deliberate.

  “…we demand growth — to reveal truth.”

  The echo lingered longer than the words themselves.

  “Prepare your minds. Strengthen your hearts. When you enter that arena, you do not fight to survive—“

  She paused.

  “You fight to be revealed.”

  The dome threw back her words until even silence felt bright.

  Her hand lifted.

  Screens ignited—

  [ THE APEX TRIALS ]

  No fanfare. Just a name that felt heavier than it should.

  “Everything you have learned here will be tested. Dismissed.”

  The other Cadets were already rising, but his gaze stayed fixed on the stage.

  Revealed?

  The word echoed, strange in Lior’s head.

  Revealed how?

  He couldn’t shake it.

  He didn’t know why—but something about that word felt like it was meant for him.

  ?

  Steel sang with boots and chatter.

  “I can’t believe Titan gave us a whole day off,” Cael said, as if questioning physics.

  “I don’t even know what to do with myself,” Ayasha admitted.

  Sunstrike ghosted by.“Snapback said downtime is morale… which means he’s avoiding work.”

  Grid attempted to drift past. “We’re off. I’m going to bed.”

  Silverline snagged his collar.

  YANK.

  “No you’re not. You still haven’t hit your daily quota.”

  Thorn smirked. “You don’t want more knots, do you?”

  Grid rubbed his head like it remembered—and regretted.

  Selena approached softly. “Isn’t there a large bath in the east wing? It might be nice to relax there.”

  Speedy slid into frame like trouble on roller skates. “A bath? With everyone? I volunteer — enthusiastically!”

  BONK.

  Perma fixed his behavior. “You’re coming. But behave.”

  Replica approached with composed grace, adjusting her cape clasp. “It would be optimal for recovery. Shall we proceed together?”

  Speedy blinked, staring at Replica, Ayasha, Silverline — muttered a tiny prayer: “…Greatest day of my life.”

  Ayasha gave him a stern look. “Dial it down, clown.”

  Thorn clapped hands. “To the baths before he implodes!”

  ?

  Steam drifted up in soft, silver ribbons.

  Water hissed against stone, echoing off the vaulted walls of the east-wing baths.

  Cadets from Titan, Pulse, Seraph, Vitalis, and Snapback filled the room—voices overlapping, laughter stumbling across the marble like something rare.

  Girls to one side. Boys to the other.

  For a brief heartbeat, duty didn’t exist.

  Steam rolled through the chamber as the girls stepped in, laughter scattering like glass in sunlight.

  Ayasha sank into the heat with a sigh that melted tension from her shoulders. “I could sleep here forever.”

  Replica sat with perfect posture even in the water. “If I succumb to slumber, please ensure I do not miss the Tournament’s commencement.”

  Sunstrike leaned back, suspicious of happiness. “This is dangerously nice. They’re going to take it away tomorrow.”

  Perma flicked a splash at her. “Don’t jinx it.”

  Silverline’s laugh rose like bubbles.

  Selena lingered at the edge, her body half-turned as though the warmth might vanish if she moved too fast.

  Ayasha noticed. She tossed a small wave her way. “You’re one of us too, strategist.”

  Replica added a delicate ripple. “It is permissible to enjoy the moment, Selena.”

  Cascade didn’t speak. She simply shifted closer, the quiet gesture louder than words.

  Selena hesitated, then stepped into the circle of warmth.

  The heat climbed through her bones, unwinding every practiced defense.

  She smiled — small, uncertain, but real.

  For the first time in years, she wasn’t alone on the edge.

  On the opposite side of the wall, the boys’ laughter carried through faintly — muffled by steam, but no less alive.

  Speedy slapped both hands on the tile. “So we share rooms, risk our lives together…but baths are still separate? Cruel world.”

  Lior eased into the water, arms resting on the ledge. “That’s civilization for you. Try again next life.”

  Speedy huffed but didn’t joke again. His voice dropped, softer than steam. “…I’ve never seen people so joyful in this place.”

  Grid cracked one eye open. “And how would you know what joy looks like?”

  Speedy tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I guess… it’s anything that contradicts this place.”

  Cael gave a single nod of agreement.

  Arcline, Thorn, and Blueprint face softened, as if they felt exactly how he did.

  Grid closed his eyes again. “Then soak it in. Nothing good here last long.”

  Speedy exhaled. His words expressing the thoughts of everyone, as if their minds were linked. “…Temporary is still good.”

  Lior said nothing. He watched the faint shapes on the other side of the mist, the echoes of laughter from the other side.

  Feels like peace, he thought.

  Even if it’s borrowed.

  The steam thickened, wrapping everything in light. For one small moment, Veritas didn’t feel like a battlefield.

  The moment was fragile.

  The world, however—refused to be.

  ?

  Far below the storm’s fury, Carter and Rei crept through a tunnel veined with frost.

  They eased toward the core passage.

  Trigger moved first into the facility, flicking out the finished cigarettes into the snow.

  Vane followed in stride.

  Sentinel turned, leading them down the hall.

  The floor thrummed faintly, like the storm itself was breathing through the vents.

  Carter whispered. “Whatever this is… it’s bigger than us, let’s go.”

  Rei, moving quietly. “Then don’t be small.”

  Veritas exhaled as it basked in the precious moment of stillness.

  Above — the world held its breath.

  Somewhere between those two truths — the pieces moved.

  End of Chapter 38