The dream didn’t come in colors.

  It came the same way it always did—soft shadows… and quiet voices.

  Selena stood in a narrow hallway lit by a single flickering bulb. Her mother’s hands trembled around the hem of her coat. Her father stood beside her, stiff-backed and trying to look calm, but his eyes gave him away.

  Two Potestas officers waited behind them — silent, unmoving, their presence swallowing the hallway.

  Her father crouched to meet her gaze.“Selena…” His voice wavered, the effort to stay steady failing him.“You’re doing this for our family. For our country. You understand that, don’t you?”

  She didn’t understand. Not fully. But she nodded anyway.

  Her mother covered her mouth, muffling a sob. Her father reached out and placed a steady hand against Selena’s cheek. “When this is done, you will be a beacon for our country.”

  He reached inside his coat and pulled out a thin necklace — a small cross on a worn cord. He fastened it around her neck. “If you’re ever scared… or you start to forget why you’re doing this… look at this. Remember who you are. Remember where you come from.”

  The light above them buzzed and dimmed.

  Her mother turned away, unable to watch.

  Her father leaned in and hugged her, holding on as if letting go too soon would break something neither of them could name. “You are a Choe, that will always mean something.”

  Then the officers stepped forward.Her father’s hand slipped from her shoulder.

  The hallway stretched.

  And just like every other time, the dream ended with her reaching for him as the distance swallowed her whole.

  Tears slid down her cheeks in soft, hot trails.

  She blinked hard and sat up, startled by the wetness on her face. She brushed at her eyes again as if the tears were things she hadn’t asked for, hadn’t permitted, hadn’t expected. “I… don’t cry.”

  The words barely carried past her lips. Her throat tightened around the words. Her fingers drifted to the necklace resting against her collarbone. The tiny cross was cool against her skin. She held it tightly for a long moment, letting its coldness anchor her shaking breath.

  Something brushed her leg.

  A folded white handkerchief slipped from her blanket into her lap. The one Lior had given her during the trials.

  Worn edges. Clean seams. Still faintly smelling of spices from that night in the cafeteria. She picked it up gently, staring at it as though it were a strange artifact she didn’t remember choosing to keep. ““…Why do I still have this?”

  The question lingered, unanswered.

  She waited for the old voice — the conditioned one — to whisper the things she had grown up hearing:

  People will use you.

  Kindness doesn’t last.

  Warmth disappears.

  You survive by staying guarded.

  But that voice felt weaker now. Almost drowned out.

  In its place came the memory of Lior kneeling beside her…

  his eyes steady…

  his tone gentle…

  “You’re not alone. I promise.”

  She pressed the handkerchief to her chest as she spoke quietly. “…I don’t think he would do that, he’s… different.”

  She exhaled slowly, and only then glanced at the small digital clock beside her bed.

  [5:50 AM]

  Gale’s bunk was empty.

  Ditto’s was untouched.

  Neither of them had bothered to wake her. “They never wake me up on time,” she muttered.

  Selena swung her legs out of bed. The floor was cold, but this morning the chill didn’t bite as sharply as it usually did. She pushed herself up and walked toward the small mirror by her locker.

  Her reflection stared back at her:

  messy hair, faint shadows under her eyes, clear tear streaks she hadn’t fully wiped away.

  She tried a smile, but it came out crooked. “That looks horrible.”

  Her gaze stayed on her reflection. She folded the handkerchief with care and slipped it into her pocket. The necklace settled lightly against her chest, the cross warm now from her touch.

  She placed her hand on the door. She waited for fear to creep in, as it always did.

  But warmth settled in her chest.

  Just the faintest flicker of something she couldn’t name — small, unfamiliar, rising quietly, like light before dawn.

  She carried it with her as she stepped out of the room, unaware that this fragile warmth would be the very thing that made what came next hurt the most.

  ———

  The first thing to cut through the sky outside of Veritas was the symbol.

  A curved sand dune, sculpted in layered metal, gleamed along the side of the descending aircraft. Its ridges swept upward like a rising wave of earth—three bold outlines stacked inwards, each line thicker and sharper than the last. It looked carved rather than stamped, a clean, powerful insignia that marked its origin without a single wasted detail. The symbol was Veritas' Sahara Gate — Veritas’s Southern Atlantic facility, stationed off the western coast of Africa.

  The aircraft—the Revenant’s predecessor, older and louder but still pristine—cut its engines into a controlled hover.

  The wind it kicked up rolled across the runway in waves, tugging at Titan’s shirt until the cotton snapped lightly against his frame. Frost still clung to the cracks in the pavement. Six in the morning, winter cold biting at exposed his skin.

  Titan didn’t react. He had his arms crossed, Standing like a man carved into the landscape.

  A group of Veritas Prime soldiers flanked the runway entrance, patrolling quietly. Their breaths puffed white into the cold.

  The transport lowered with a final hiss of pressure. A boarding ramp unfolded, metal striking concrete with a heavy clank.

  A woman stepped out first.

  Tall. Straight-backed. Calm. Her matte-black uniform caught the early sun, edges trimmed in faint gold that never tried too hard to shine. She carried a small duffel at her side, effortless, like it weighed nothing.

  Amahle N’Dour — Codename: Captain Aegis — Sahara Gate

  Her expression softened just enough—barely a curve at the corner of her mouth. “Titan.”

  Her voice was low. Warm. Controlled.

  Titan nodded his head once in greeting. “Aegis.”

  She let a small smile show this time—the kind you only give someone you trust on instinct alone—and extended a hand. Titan grabbed her forearm and she did the same. He pulled her in for the quick, firm half-hug

  Behind her came Kojo Anantam Mensah — Codename: Kojo — Sahara Gate

  Tall, disciplined, posture straight as a spear. His tank-style uniform revealed the Adinkra tattoo on his shoulder, the mark of his lineage. He carried a small training bag, eyes forward, no wasted movement. When he reached Titan, he offered a respectful bow—hands at his sides, spine straight.

  “Sir.”

  Titan returned only a faint nod. Respect acknowledged.

  Last came a ten-year-old neophyte who moved like a soldier twice his age.

  Abasi Okoye — Codename: N/A — Sahara Gate

  He stepped forward, bag neatly strapped, boots shining like they’d been polished that very morning. He bowed the same way Kojo did, crisp and controlled, then rose without blinking. “Reporting as instructed.”

  Titan gave him a longer look. Then simply answered, “Welcome to Prime.”

  As the three moved fully onto the runway, the transport immediately lifted again.

  Captain Aegis inhaled the cold air once, almost like she was checking the atmosphere itself. “It’s been a long time.”

  Titan’s eyes softened for a blink. “Too long.”

  And with the sun finally starting to edge over the clouds, the first visitors from another Veritas gate had officially arrived.

  ——

  Lior sat on the edge of his bunk, tying his shoes a little slower than usual. His mood wasn’t heavy anymore, but it wasn’t bright either. Like a cloud thinning, not disappearing.

  Ayasha was already up, lacing her boots on her own bunk. Cael sat cross-legged on the floor, adjusting the straps on his wrist guards.

  “So,” Lior said, glancing over, “where exactly do we have to head this morning?”

  Ayasha looked up, surprised he didn’t already know. “To get our uniforms.”

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  Lior blinked. “Uniforms? What uniforms?”

  Ayasha gave a soft laugh as she stood up from her bunk. “Were you even listening during the meeting?”

  “Probably not,” he admitted.

  Ayasha walked over to Lior and sat next to him. “These are our official team uniforms. Since they’re calling this tournament our first mission, we finally get our team emblems.”

  Cael rolled his eyes. “Which probably means it’s gonna be bland. Titan’s the one who designed it.”

  Lior snorted under his breath, then paused. “Okay… and what’s this about meeting other Veritas facilities?”

  Cael tightened the last strap and sat up a little straighter. “All three of them sent representatives for the tournament. Sahara Gate. Coral Gate. And Kuro Gate.”

  “They all have names?” Lior asked, brows lifting.

  “Yeah,” Cael said. “They’re named based on location.”

  Lior thought for a moment. “So what about us? Do we have a name?”

  “Yeah,” Ayasha said, slinging her jacket on. “We’re Prime Gate.”

  Lior blinked. “Prime? Why Prime?”

  Cael smirked like it was obvious. “Because we’re in the most prime position to attack Potestas Island. That’s why this facility exists.”

  Lior shook his head, a small disbelieving breath leaving him. “How have you two never told me that?”

  Ayasha bumped his shoulder gently. “You never asked.”

  He gave a small, soft laugh — nowhere near as bright as theirs, but not empty either.

  Ayasha stepped out of the room first.

  Wham!

  She collided with Selena.

  Selena looked up, her eyes softer than the usual coldness they carried. “S—sorry.”

  Ayasha rubbed her shoulder as it throbbed from the impact. “Dang, girl. You’re pretty solid under all those baggy clothes.”

  Selena laughed nervously. “Well… just because I’m Nicheless doesn’t mean I don’t get the same training.”

  Lior stepped through the doorway and glanced at her. “Your team left you again.”

  Selena looked down. She didn’t answer, but her body language said everything.

  Cael stepped up beside her and gave her a light smack on the back. “That means we get to keep your company.”

  The hit knocked her off balance, sending her stumbling straight into Lior.

  He caught her before she could bounce off him.

  Her face flushed bright red as she quickly pushed away. Her voice jumped into an awkward pitch as she turned and started down the hall. “L—let’s go before we’re late, you guys.”

  Team Titan smiled as they followed after her.

  ———

  Footsteps echoed softly as Lior, Ayasha, Selena, and Cael rounded the far corner of the hall, heading toward the uniform wing. Lior’s hoodie sleeves were pushed to his elbows, hands tucked into the pockets.

  Ayasha nudged him lightly with her elbow. “We’re almost there.”

  “Yeah,” he murmured.

  Then they turned the corner fully—and stopped.

  Three strangers stood with Titan.

  And each one looked like they’d stepped out of a different world.

  Captain Aegis noticed them first. Her posture didn’t shift, but she inclined her chin in recognition.

  Kojo’s eyes locked onto Lior for a fraction of a second.

  His face didn’t move. His heartbeat spiked.

  That’s him. That’s really him. Keep your face straight. Do NOT look excited. Do NOT look excited. Oh… wow.

  Kojo straightened even more—if that was physically possible.

  Abasi’s gaze passed across the three of them in one sweep. No reaction. Just another assessment, filed away.

  Titan stepped forward. “Lior. Ayasha. Cael.. Meet the representatives from Sahara Gate.”

  Lior blinked, pulling his hands from his pockets. “Oh… uh—hi.”

  Aegis gave a small nod. “Nice to meet you.”

  Kojo matched her nod, deeper, more formal.

  His stoic expression held firm, but inside—

  I finally get to meet him. The prophecy… Okay, breathe. Don’t stare. Stop staring. STOP staring—

  Abasi remained silent, still as a statue.

  Ayasha stepped forward with a friendly smile. “Welcome to Prime Gate.”

  Aegis scanned the others, until confusion came upon her face. “Titan, I thought captains got 3 cadets each.

  Titan turned looking at his cadets until his sights landed on Selena. “The one in the end is part of Captain Null’s team.”

  Aegis nodded towards her.

  Selena returned it with a small smile.

  Kojo bowed. Abasi mirrored him.

  Lior’s smile was small, but real.

  Titan gestured lightly between both groups. “You’ll all see more of each other later.”

  He turned to his team with a more stern look. “Shouldn’t you all be getting your uniforms?”

  With that the four left and headed down the hall.

  ——

  A couple of hours passed before the vibration of another aircraft vibrated through the cabin as clouds rolled past the narrow windows.

  Bastian pressed his face to the glass, practically fogging it with excitement. “WE’RE HERE! WE’RE HERE—look how BIG it is!”

  Bastian Reyes — Codename:N/A — Kuro Gate

  Eleven years old. Eyes brighter than the sun itself matched with a grin that never shut off.

  He slapped both palms against the window. “Oh my GOOOODNESS—IT’S HUGE!”

  Across from him, the cadet didn’t even look up.

  Seo Mirin — Codename: Nightveil — Kuro Gate

  Silent-footed. Expression unreadable. Mid-jaw black hair tucked behind one ear. Eyes like cold steel. “It’s just a building.”

  She tightened the straps on her wrist without looking up. “You’re not living here. Your excitement is unnecessary.”

  Bastian spun, pointing toward the front. “Hey Captain! Captain Baggy Eyes! You said I could lower the door! You DID say—right? Right?!”

  The man leaning against the railing didn’t lift his head right away.

  Drago? Ionescu — Codename: Captain Drift — Kuro Gate

  Six-foot-something, lean fighter’s frame, permanent eye bags, a voice halfway to sleep.

  He exhaled. “I suppose.”

  Bastian jumped in the air with a fist. “Yes! SEE? He said—”

  Captain Drift began the aircraft’s decline. “Wait until I—”

  Bastian hit the release.

  The ramp hissed downward.

  A blast of cold air tore through the cabin, snapping equipment straps and nearly lifting him off his feet. His hoodie whipped backward like a sail.

  Nightveil pinched the bridge of her nose. “Idiot.”

  Bastian clung to a railing, laughing as the wind blasted him. “This is AMAZING! Nightveil—LOOK! LOOK AT THIS—!”

  “No,” she said with agitation.

  Bastian’s eyes widened. “I think my hands are slipping!”

  Nightveil didn’t look up at him as she replied with an annoyed tone. “Help yourself.”

  His grip tore free.

  He was sucked straight out of the aircraft.

  And he screamed—not in fear, but pure joy.

  “WOOO-HOOO!”

  A sound rippled across the landing platform below.

  Wvrmm… wvrmm… wVRMM—

  Space distorted as reality buckled inward.

  Snapback appeared in a warping shimmer, one foot braced, distortion flickering off him like heat.

  He vanished.

  WVRMM—

  Reappeared mid-air, grabbing Bastian mid-fall.

  Another distortion—

  wVrrmm—

  And both of them landed gently on the platform, metal vibrating as Snapback’s Niche: Shatter Step stabilized the space.

  Snapback had Bastian hooked by the back of his hoodie, holding the kid off the ground like he was a grocery bag.

  Bastian swung happily, kicking at nothing, laughing like this was the best morning of his life.

  Snapback wasn’t even looking at him.

  His grin was aimed at the aircraft’s descending.

  The hydraulics hissed.

  The open deployment door hit the ground causing sparks to spray outward..

  Bastian twisted in Snapback’s grip. “Hey that was awesome mister! That was awesome!”

  Snapback lifted him a little higher so he didn’t slip, eyes still locked on the ramp. “Yeah, yeah, little man.”

  Footsteps echoed from inside the ship.

  Snapback’s smile twitched wider.

  A figure stepped out through the doorway… moving like he had all the time in the world.

  Snapback’s arm began waving wide and large, as he still held Bastian clutch in his other hand. “Drift!”

  He stood at the opening.

  Shoulders relaxed.

  Eyes half-lidded.

  Expression unchanged from the constant, just woke up, look he always had.

  He paused at the top of the ramp, gaze lifting just slightly. “Ryu.”

  His voice was low, tired, and calm.

  Snapback froze mid-grin.

  Behind Drift, Nightveil narrowed her eyes, confused. She glanced between the two men.

  “…Ryu?” she repeated quietly to her captain. “That’s Captain Snapback.”

  Drift didn’t blink. “Yes.”

  Nightveil’s brows pulled together even more. “That doesn’t make any sense. You said the two of you were ‘just alike.’”

  Drift finally gave the smallest smirk — barely moving his face at all. “You can’t see it?”

  Nightveil stared at him… deadpan. “…You’re in complete denial at this point.”

  Drift didn’t answer.

  Just exhaled faintly — and stepped down the ramp.

  Snapback set Bastian down—more like placed him in a wobbling standing position—and then sprinted across the deck.

  Snapback moved quickly, slamming into Drift with both arms wrapping around his neck in a full tackle-hug.

  “Bro. Those bags have gotten BIGGER since the last time I saw you!”

  Drift didn’t even sway.

  His voice stayed flat, slow, tired. “It’s that kid behind you, the stress is unbearable.”

  Snapback pulled back, still gripping his shoulders. “Man, you look terrible. I missed you.”

  Drift just stared at him. “Hm.”

  Snapback turned toward Mirin for the first time. “And who is this?”

  Nightveil stepped forward immediately—posture perfect, arms at her sides, chest lifted, chin up. Military straight. “Codename Nightveil.”

  Snapback’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Oooooo, so formal. How did you get stuck with this guy?”

  Nightveil didn’t blink. “I am honored to serve under Captain Drift. He is a fine leader. I would die for him.”

  Snapback’s entire face went deadpan.

  Drift matched him with the same expression.

  Snapback slowly turned back to Drift. “I—I guess you trained her well.”

  Drift exhaled. “That has nothing to do with me. I’ve been trying to knock that out of her for the past three years.”

  Nightveil remained in perfect formation, posture razor-sharp and unwavering.

  Snapback and Drift stared at Nightveil’s perfect posture, matching deadpan expressions.

  A light shuffle broke the quiet.

  Bastian stepped forward, eyes bright, practically glowing. “Hi! My name is Bastian! You’re Snapback, right? Captain Baggy Eyes told us about you! You must be cool!”

  Snapback blinked once, confused but entertained.

  Bastian leaned closer, bouncing on his toes. “Can I see your niche again? The thing you did in the air? Can you catch me like that one more time? Please?”

  Snapback squinted down at him. “Man, you have a lot of energy.”

  He placed a palm on Bastian’s head and messed up his hair. “You’re gonna fit right in here.”

  Bastian grinned so wide his eyes practically vanished.

  Snapback rolled his shoulders and turned toward the entrance. “Alright! No point standin’ out here in the cold. Let’s gooooo!”

  Drift followed at his usual slow pace.

  Mirin stepped sharply behind him.

  Bastian jogged after all of them with zero regard for volume or gravity.

  They disappeared through the doors.

  ——

  The corridor was dim.

  In the shadow between two support beams, a pair of eyes opened.

  Flashing Yellow .

  Sharp.

  Listening.

  A faint crackle leaked through the hidden communicator beneath the collar—Potestas frequencies, encrypted and cold.

  A voice spoke, steady as a knife sliding across glass.

  “Your time has come.”

  The eyes didn’t blink.

  They only narrowed.

  “You will act soon. Everything depends on precision.”

  Static whispered, almost like a breath.

  “Do not fail us.”

  Still no reply.

  Only stillness.

  “We are watching. Your place in history will be decided by what you do next.”

  The transmission cut out.

  Silence settled again… except for the slow, deliberate flicker of yellow light across the sleeper agent’s eyes.

  Waiting.

  Hidden in plain sight.

  Ready to move.

  End of chapter 42