Though I’m cold all over, eventually I start to feel the heat. The power of anger, to be exact. It flashes in my stomach at first, then curls up my gut, wraps around my spine, and slams into the back of my head. I know better than to curl my hands into fists. Instead, I focus all of that anger into questioning. One question slams into my head.

  Did Franks plan this? Did he somehow find out that I can lip read? Or was this all nothing more than an accident?

  And, ultimately, will it matter?

  I don’t have any power in this situation. Which seems ironic considering I’m joined to the most powerful light sentinel in our history.

  I go to continue that thought, go to point out that I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, but then I let my mind settle on what I just thought.

  I’m joined to the most powerful light sentinel in our history, and yet I’m fooling myself into thinking I don’t have any power?

  That thought is all I need to truly distract me as Franks leads me through the room. There are various scientists dotted around, and they all look up from what they’re doing to stare at me. And the look in their eyes? It’s like some kind of prize has walked past. Like a diamond on legs.

  We reach the end of the room and face a door. Again Franks makes a complicated set of movements with his arms, and there’s a beep as the door opens. He turns to me and walks backward through the door. “You’re just going to have to go through a battery of tests, then there’ll be one more training session,” he says. His voice is strange on the word one. The pitch is weird. And as my gaze flashes toward his throat, I realize there’s a hell of a lot of pressure there. “One more chance to show us just what you can do,” he adds, emphasizing the word chance.

  I don’t react, at least not verbally. I stare at him, narrowing my gaze and making it just as searching as it can be.

  He flashes me another one of his smiles, and then he steps out of my way to reveal a small room with a pod on the opposite side. Instantly my gut clenches as I stare at the pod, wondering just what they’re about to do to me. But before too much fear can sail through my heart, Franks leans over and claps a hand on my shoulder. Though it’s a quick move, at the same time, his thumb and finger linger. “Come on, Corporal. Compared to training, tests are easy. Now, I’ve been instructed to tell you to just lie down in that pod and close your eyes. Think of better times,” he adds, and though his voice, as always, is artificially easy, on the term better times, it twists with obvious emotion.

  All I want to do is stare at him and figure out exactly what angle Franks has, but I’m not provided with the opportunity as several scientists walk into the room and start barking orders at me. I feel like nothing more than livestock as I’m pushed into the pod and the door closes in front of me.

  The tests begin, and they become a blur. Fortunately they’re not that physically invasive, and no one carves me up with a scalpel. And yet, they’re mentally invasive. Don’t ask me how they’re doing it, but it feels as if somehow they’re trying to pry through my mind. I feel this dense, unmistakable pressure in my head, and it reminds me of a migraine. And yet, at the same time, it’s almost as if they’re trying to suck something out of my very head. And hey, maybe they are. Maybe this is the preliminary test to see if they can remove Xin from me.

  Though I’ve only been joined with Xin for a number of days, and I still haven’t been provided with the opportunity to try to figure out what the hell she means to me, at the prospect that she will be taken away from me, I feel a kind of anger I haven’t felt in years. Don’t get me wrong, my personality is pretty much based on anger, but this is different. Being angry at the ghosts attempting to destroy our world is a distant kind of rage. But this – being turned on by my own people – it’s far, far worse.

  Fortunately there is no glass window to the pod, so I hope that means no one can see my exact expression as I clench my teeth, curl my fists, and practically scream in my mind.

  The battery of tests doesn’t last too much longer. And within half an hour, I’m out.

  And yet, the effect of what they did lingers. I feel like they somehow dug a hole right through my brain. One that, no doubt, they’ll try to use when they attempt to remove Xin in the training session.

  I feel foggy. A hell of a lot foggier than I have in days, and that’s saying something considering the past several days have been brutal.

  I’m not provided any time to get over that fog. Without a word, Franks leads me away once more.

  Even though he doesn’t share a word, I swear he shares something else. Another long, lingering look. One that makes me more aware than ever that Franks has a secret to share.

  Whether that secret will be enough to save me, I will have to find out.

  6

  Commander Jason Everett

  I’ve gone through a situation like this twice before. Once was when I lost my brother, and the other time was when the war began – when the first reports of monsters filtered over the news lines. It’s the kind of experience you’ll never forget – because it alters you on every level. Any false sense of security you’ve lived your life by shatters in a single instant, never to be remade.

  But I’ve been living with the war for five years now. And yet, that doesn’t change the fact that in my heart, my world is being destroyed once more.

  Though all I want to do is hit the sack and get some sleep – allow my mind a few precious minutes and hours to process what the hell is going on – I don’t get that opportunity.

  I get a call on a secure channel.

  I cram a hand over my mouth as I try to concentrate. “What is it?”

  “Another training session with Corporal Ming is about to begin,” someone says flatly across the line.

  I shake my head. “Sorry, what? But there was one just an hour ago,” I say, and there’s nothing I can do to remove the exasperation from my tone.

  The person on the other end of the line clearly hears it, and there’s a protracted pause. “I would assume a man in your position would not need to be reminded of the costs our society currently faces.”

  I take a moment. “Of course not. Please excuse my words. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  With that, I end the call, dash out of my room, and hit the corridor outside at a full run.

  My mind is spinning. Though, on my file, it says that I’m the kind of guy who’s great at situations that unfold quickly with low certainty, right now, that’s the furthest thing from the case. With every second it seems that everything I know is being stripped back and my world is crumbling down like a mountain toppled by a meteorite.

  I run as fast as I can until I finally reach the training facility.

  I’m surprised when I see General Cral there. None of the other Generals are present, and that is a seriously worrying sign.

  I skid to a stop several meters from him. Ami is still in the same tunic and pants she was wearing during the last training session, though at least this time they’ve given her some real shoes.

  She’s standing several meters away, and as I come barreling into the room, just for a fraction of a second, I fancy she lets it all show, and rather than ignoring me, a flash of emotion marks her brow and blasts deep through her eyes.

  It’s fragility. Even though I want to believe that someone like Ami, despite this awful situation, wouldn’t be able to feel that emotion, I can’t deny my eyes.

  I take a sigh. “Sir, I apologize for being late,” I say.

  General Cral takes several seconds to wrench his gaze toward me. Most of his attention appears to be fixed on the opposite side of the room. And though to somebody who’s not familiar with this building it would look as if he’s doing nothing more than staring off into space, he’s watching the precise direction where the observational room is located. Though, from the outside, it just looks like so much metal wall, from the inside, it has a perfect view of everything that’s going on in this massive room.

  My stomach clenches. Tighter and tighter.

  “There’s no need to apologize, Commander Everett. It’s because of your assessment that we are here again,” he says with a smile.

  I stop short of scratching my head and asking what the hell he’s talking about. I haven’t done anything in the past several hours, and I sure as hell haven’t handed in a report.

  I make the mistake of cutting my gaze toward Franks. And again, I see it there. That suspicion and something else. The same penetrating look he gave me when he came upon me in the corridor. But I make the even greater mistake of jerking my gaze toward Ami. Though she was looking at me desperately moments before, now, second by second, almost as if I’m watching concrete set, her expression hardens.

  I force a swallow. “Sir,” I begin, intending to ask the General what he’s talking about.

  But the General clears his throat and speaks over me. “Corporal Ming will be provided one more opportunity to prove that she’s a team player,” the General says without any warning. “As per your assessment, it’s clear she’s an unsuitable match for this program.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ami’s anger. Suspicion. Hatred. Everything. Though she’s hated me since the day I broke up with her, that hate has never been complete. Now, in a single second, it twists.

  “Ah, sir,” I begin, voice shaking, but the General doesn’t even bother looking my way.

  He looks forward and dismissively waves a hand at Ami. “One last chance, Corporal. The Security Forces cannot abide with people who will not sacrifice to save others. You either demonstrate you understand this lesson, or you will submit to an appropriate punishment,” the General says smoothly.

  I have no idea what’s going on, but slowly the pieces slam into place. I never gave the General an assessment of Ami, but he’s obviously manufactured one.

  Though it was clear that the other Generals wanted to give Ami a chance, it’s now just as clear that General Cral can’t wait. And as I catch sight of the side of his face, I see a particular emotion that curls my gut.

  Fervor. The kind of brutal fervor you don’t really get in normal life, because it’s anathema to societies functioning properly. It’s there, right in the General’s eyes, and I realize with a gut-punching shake that something changed. Maybe his loyal scientists finally came back to him and promised they now know how to perfect the switching process. And obviously Cral can’t wait. So despite the fact Ami hasn’t acted up, he’s manufactured the lie that she has – and he’s going to pin that lie on me.

  I know how dire the situation is. Though I’m an apparently respected member of the Army at the moment, if I go against someone like General Cral, I won’t live through the day. But that doesn’t matter as something snaps within me.

  I take a step toward Ami, and I open my mouth to explain the situation.

  I don’t get the opportunity.

  Phillips shoves her hard in the shoulder, and Ami is provided with a single opportunity to stare my way before she turns and walks off into the training facility. And the last look she shoots me says it all.

  Trust – if it ever existed between us – has now been burnt up completely, never to be replaced.

  My mind spirals and the last of my world falls away.

  7

  Ami

  So this is it. The beginning of the end, ha?

  I walk forward, in no particular hurry.

  I have five minutes before the simulation begins once more. It’s five minutes to process just how screwed I am. Five minutes to blame it all on Jason goddamn Everett.

  My heart doesn’t want to believe what I just heard. My brain can understand.

  Jason was always a man who put himself and his feelings last and the feelings of everyone else first. But therein lies the problem. Surround yourself with selfish bastards like General Cral who promise you peace if only you perpetrate their crimes, and you will easily turn into an instrument of evil.

  Does that mean I can forgive him?

  Never.

  But does that even matter? Because there’s no goddamn way of getting out of here.

  I try to breathe as I walk through the city. It’s changed a little since my previous fight. Some of the scorch marks have been cleaned off, and a few of the broken, smashed hover cars have been removed.

  I’m curious about the house where I had my final battle, but I know I don’t have the time to waste to go investigate it.

  I need a plan.

  Now.

  I’m not just dead meat – Xin is, too.

  If I fail and I allow Xin to be stripped from me, they’ll use her as a weapon.

  And she doesn’t want that.

  That’s not why she’s here.

  Don’t ask me how I know that – but… I know it’s true.

  Being stripped from me is the last thing Xin wants.

  Because I’m important somehow, aren’t I?

  This is not some grandiose vision talking. This is something from within me. The same thing that stood there and courageously faced the level VII monster as it stared into my gaze.

  I have a destiny. Some purpose. And the very last thing I can allow is for the greedy, violent General Cral to distract me from it.

  So I keep curling my hands into fists until my sharp nails start to dig into the flesh and blood pools off my palms.

  I suddenly and abruptly push into a run. It’s not because I’m trying to run from anything, it’s because I need to feel my body, connect to my muscles – and through them, connect with her.

  Ever since I joined with Xin, one thought, one question, has been playing in the back of my mind. What’s the endgame? How exactly will our society ever push back the rift monsters and find peace again? And what will that peace look like?

  Technically, we could find some weapon and unleash it on the world – one that will stop the rift monsters from coming through by destabilizing interdimensional space, but that will leave Gordana as a virtual wasteland – in an even worse state than it is already. But could there be another way?

  That thought settles in my mind, like an anchor against a storm.

  Several seconds later, I start to feel that distinct pressure begin to build in my chest. They’re opening the rifts. Early. I can practically feel how eager and greedy General Cral is from here. It’s clear he doesn’t care what rules he has to break and how many people he has to break with them in order to win.

  I keep running, and I center my attention on my body, allowing it to pick which direction to go in.

  20 seconds later, the first monsters begin to appear. I don’t fight them. And I don’t call on Xin. Not yet.

  Instead, I allow my mind to be completely occupied by that thought. How can this war end? How can it end in such a way that the life we have afterward is worth living?

  I duck to the side, deliberately pushing into a run and then rolling down an incline as several monsters appear behind me.

  Then I hear more and more rifts opening up. I feel them as if every single rift is like a knife being stabbed into my body.

  But I still don’t open up and call Xin.

  I wait.

  Running through this replicated city is no different in my mind than powering through the streets of my home world.

  From the broken hover bikes, to the singe marks, to the dilapidated buildings, to the sense of loneliness.

  And it’s that, more than anything, that centers my mind. For it sums up what happened to our society better than any other word can.

  When the rift monsters arrived, they pushed society together. They made humanity fight as one for peace. And yet, as the fight continued, they fractured each and every one of us until we fought for our own survival.

  And that’s a loneliness that has pervaded my life for the past five years.

  One I’ve never been able to look past.

  I’m not like Melody – I couldn’t find happiness and love in our society. I was held back by the fact that it was an option only for the few.

  Another rift opens up behind me. It’s massive, and from the exact sound and the pounding feeling spreading through my chest, I can bet it’s a level IV monster or above.

  Obviously General Cral’s getting irritated and can’t wait for me to call on Xin.

  But I hold on.

  I keep running.

  I don’t know where I’m going, but soon enough I realize I’m running toward the very opposite side of the training facility. It’s about a kilometer squared, but I’m a fast runner, and despite my recent injuries, my body is giving it everything I’ve got.

  I dart through laneways, go through houses when I can’t get past, and run, run, run.

  More and more monsters fill the city streets until their screams threaten to crack the concrete and shatter everything into dust.

  But I still run. Until finally I make it to the opposite side of the room.

  Unlike on the opposite side of the room, there’s no railing. There’s just a wall. Abruptly, almost as if someone’s used it to slice through a village. It’s right behind a set of buildings. I find myself staring at it as, from behind, the monsters sweep in.

  Their screams are so numerous, I can no longer tell how many of them there are.

  But I don’t turn, I don’t call on Xin, I don’t offer them a shriek of my own, and I don’t move.

  Slowly I stand, and I stare at the wall.

  For some reason, it feels like a symbol – the wall is not just holding me back from freedom, it’s holding the whole world back, too.

  I feel something slam into the pavement behind me. It’s close enough and large enough that the pavement buckles and a massive shudder crosses through the asphalt, slamming into me.

 

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