The sky outside the Compound's infirmary window was bruised with the colours of a dying day, red streaks bleeding into violet, the last light catching on the towers of the rookie compound. Somewhere outside, the low hum of generators buzzed steadily beneath the distant shouts of sparring Revenants.
Inside, the white ceiling tiles of the infirmary seemed unnaturally still.
Amara lay on a narrow bed, her ribs tightly bandaged, shoulder sore and skin still tingling faintly where her mark had burned. It wasn't glowing anymore, just a quiet ache beneath the gauze and cloth, like something deep inside her had turned over in its sleep.
To her left, Jae sat on a stool with his legs kicked up, pretending to scroll through his holo-pad. The screen reflected in his tired eyes, but his fingers hadn't moved in minutes.
On her right, Lira sat upright in the next bed over, arms crossed, a sling wrapping her shoulder. She looked more uncomfortable than injured. The kind of discomfort that came from not knowing what to say or how to apologize for something you never meant to do.
The silence was long. Not really heavy, just... awkward. Like the room had been holding its breath since Reyes ended the match.
Finally, Jae had enough and broke it with a voice a little too casual.
"So... not to be dramatic or anything, but did we almost die, or...?"
Amara blinked, then let out a short laugh that tugged unkindly at her ribs. Lira scoffed quietly, but it was something.
"No one died," Amara said, wincing slightly.
"Not for lack of trying," Jae added, shooting a look at Lira.
Lira flinched. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I swear."
"I know," Amara said softly. "It wasn't your fault."
Jae held himself back for a while. But then opened his mouth anyway:
"You mind telling us what happened there, Amara?"
Amara glanced down at the sheets covering her legs.
'Should I say anything?'
"That wasn't the first time my Mark did that."
That got their attention. Even Jae sat up a little straighter.
"It's been there since I was a kid," she continued. "Before the Marauders. Even before the Revenants. My mom made me hide it."
Amara's case was somewhat known amongst the rookies. But this was the first time Lira heard it from Amara's perspective, or anyone for that matter. Human beings tend to be more comfortable listening to rumours rather than just doing a bit of research. Funny thing is, after that, they act like they know everything. But tangent aside…
Lira's expression changed, curiosity deepening into something closer to concern. "So you've been carrying it all this time. Not knowing what it was."
Amara nodded. "Everyone else went through the trials and got whispers. I got... silence."
Lira huffed a laugh. "Silence doesn't sound so bad. My trial made it so that every movement I made—every twitch, every blink—stored up kinetic energy until it became a feedback loop. Every move I made would discharge it back into your body."
She held up a hand, fingers splayed. "In the first hour of the trial, I sneezed and launched myself into a wall hard enough to black out."
Amara stared. Jae's mouth hung open, his expression caught between horror and fascination.
Seeing their reactions, Lira added dryly:
"I was quite literally punched in the face by my own footsteps."
Jae's laughter burst forth unconstrained. Even Amara couldn't suppress her grin.
There was another pause, but this one felt warmer somehow. Like the weight of unspoken things was finally being shared instead of just endured.
Jae leaned back in his stool, throwing his hands behind his head.
"Well, I almost got roasted alive in a hell-pocket for years, so I feel like we're all doing pretty great."
Amara chuckled. Lira cracked a reluctant smile.
Lira hesitated, then said, "Still. You could've bested me."
Amara raised an eyebrow. "You think?"
"You fought without your Aspect. And nearly bested me." She emphasized: "Nearly."
"I'm pretty sure you almost submitted to me. Am I wrong?"
"Really? Are you sure you didn't scramble your memories against that pillar?"
Jae dissolved into laughter again.
It wasn't much. But hopefully, it marked the genesis of something significant for Amara.
Then the door hissed open.
They all turned instinctively. Vahari stood in the entryway, her long white coat fluttering slightly from the draft in the hallway. Her dark hair was tied back messily, the jagged crescent on her neck pulsing a dim amber beneath the infirmary lights.
She didn't say anything.
Jae stood first, stretching with a quiet groan. "Alright, that's our cue. I should go ice my dignity some more anyway."
He looked to Amara, offered a two-fingered salute, then left. Lira followed after a brief glance at Vahari, then at Amara, and something unreadable passed between them.
Then they were alone.
Amara sat up straighter, brushing her braids back over her shoulder.
"If you're here to lecture me—"
"I'm not," Vahari interrupted.
She crossed the room slowly, her coat unfastened, her posture looser than usual. She didn't head for the chair, or the bed. Instead, she moved to the window, staring out over the compound.
The sun had dipped lower now, casting long shadows across the training grounds. The last echoes of drills rang out in the distance.
Amara watched her, waiting.
"Reyes told me what she saw," she said. "Lira's Aspect responded to you in a way that we've never seen before."
Amara swallowed. "Then what does that make me?"
There was a long pause.
Vahari turned fully now, stepping closer to her. The amber light in her tattoo flickered once.
"I don't know yet."
Those words could have been terrifying. But Vahari's voice wasn't cold. It wasn't detached. It was... honest. And that, somehow, grounded Amara more than any reassurance would have.
"But you're not alone," Vahari continued. "Whatever this is... we'll figure it out. I'll be watching you closely."
"Even closer than before? I'm already claustrophobic."
"This isn't a laughing matter. Reyes is scrambling for an explanation to the higher ups of Revenant society. Wayne is the only thing protecting you from being immediately taken away."
Amara was at a loss for words. She had never seen the cool Vahari show this much emotion. Granted, her tone still carried the same signature flatness.
Amara looked up at her. "You're scared."
"I'm cautious," Vahari corrected.
And with that, she turned and walked out, her coat trailing behind her like the closing line of a question still waiting for its answer.
***
Snow fell like ash over the dead ice field, soft but unrelenting. The sky above was a vast, empty dome—hollow, colourless, and too quiet. In the distance, the skeleton of a ruined city loomed through the flurries, jagged towers like broken teeth jutting from the earth. The wind screamed across the ice field, peeling skin and breath alike.
Three men struggled through the desolation.
They had no coats. No layers. Just tattered prison uniforms and bleeding knuckles. Their warmth was long gone.
Goro forced himself forward, each step a battle against knee-deep snow. Rhys hung limp across his back, limbs slack, and head lolling against his shoulder.
Every exhalation from Goro emerged as vapour. Every breath from Rhys hissed like escaping steam.
Silas followed, hunched and trembling, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. His eyes continually scanned the bleached horizon, vigilant despite the cold gnawing at his marrow.
"We approach this Zone's boundary," he murmured, voice fractured by cold. "But this storm pushes us off course."
Goro maintained his pace. "Master Rhys will melt from inside before we get anywhere."
"Precisely what concerns me," Silas replied through gritted teeth.
Rhys coughed weakly against Goro's shoulder. Steam escaped his lips. Black flame writhed across his chest, undulating like a living entity. It burned more fiercely in the biting cold.
His tattoo was eating him alive.