Celestia returned to her post just as the last light of day faded behind the horizon. Her subordinates greeted her with crisp salutes and quick reports about the current situation. She listened silently, nodding as they spoke, then gave the command for a brief formation training session before nightfall.
When the drills concluded, Reinar, still slightly flushed from exertion, slung his arm around Cassian’s shoulder and grinned.
"Lieutenant, we’re planning a little al together, nothing fancy. Would you care to join us?"
Celestia hesitated, blinking once. Then, after a short pause, she nodded. ’Sotis, even soldiers need to breathe.’
They gathered outside under the dim lights strung between their barracks, sharing simple food and laughter. Igor and Cassian traded sarcastic jabs, Mira quietly sipped her drink, while Reinar’s booming voice carried across the group.
Hike chuckled between bites. "Is it just , or has Lieutenant been smiling more lately?"
Celestia blinked again. "Have I?"
Igor leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "Definitely. You look like a girl in love, ma’am."
Celestia’s cheeks tinted faintly. "Is that so..."
Then Reinar, clearly already tipsy, raised his cup and pointed a finger in the air. "If that Julian guy makes our Lieutenant cry, I swear I’ll break his legs myself!"
Cassian snorted and quickly pulled Reinar back into his seat, whispering sothing to calm him down. Mira, with a soft smile, added, "Love does suit you, Lieutenant. You’re even more beautiful when you let your heart show."
Celestia looked down at her cup, stirring the liquid inside slowly. "I wonder if that’s true. Lately... Julian feels distant. Like I’m not on his mind as much."
At that, Hike jolted upright, her voice urgent. "What?! Then it’s settled! We need to plan the most heart-pounding, show-stealing, completely unforgettable date for you two!"
The group burst into laughter and cheerful chatter, their conversation spinning wildly from battle drills to romantic sabotage. The night deepened, and one by one, they began to head off.
Reinar, barely able to stand, was hoisted onto Igor’s back like a sack of potatoes, still muttering vague threats toward Julian.
"Good night, Lieutenant!" Cassian called, waving as they walked off into the night.
Celestia watched them go. The laughter lingered in the air like warm embers. And as she stood there, alone under the stars, sothing in her chest tightened. She didn’t know why, but a shadow passed through her heart.
She never imagined that would be the last night she’d see them all like that, together, laughing, alive.
---------×----------
Colonel Frederik Rourke stood at the edge of the battlefield, his eyes dull, void of any spark. Smoke curled into the overcast sky as the last echoes of gunfire faded. His n, bloodied, battered, but breathing, slowly returned from the front lines, dragging their feet through mud soaked with sweat, blood, and ash.
Before him, the ground was littered with corpses, both friend and foe.
Frederik clenched his jaw. "Hold formation!" he barked.
His troops responded instantly, their discipline unshaken despite exhaustion. With grim precision, they carried the wounded back and piled the dead. It was only when the last of the enemy had been neutralized that a lieutenant jogged over, breathless.
"Sir! Final report, casualties... 63 dead, 91 wounded. We’ve lost nearly a third of Delta Company."
Frederik’s eyes twitched. "Damn it..."
His fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. "Let the n rest. No drills for the next six hours."
The lieutenant saluted and ran off. Frederik remained rooted, staring at the darkening sky. His thoughts spun, sharp and bitter.
Why the hell are we still doing this?
He glanced toward the distant section of the battlefield where the non skill users had fought. He rembered hearing the reports Julian’s squad annihilating waves of zombies with near theatrical efficiency. Pyrokinesis, lightning, telekinesis... They made it look easy.
We hold the line with bullets and blood, and they dance through death like gods.
It wasn’t fair. His n were dying. His numbers were thinning. And those with power stayed untouched, called in only when the situation was beyond desperate.
He bit down on the inside of his cheek.
A sudden voice broke through his thoughts.
"Colonel! ssage from central command. The general is requesting your presence. Urgently."
Frederik turned, snapping out of his spiral. "I’m on my way."
He moved quickly, not even bothering to change out of his bloodstained armor. The corridors buzzed with soldiers, dics, and officers. When he reached the command tower, the guards outside the general’s quarters saluted and opened the doors.
Inside, General Albrecht Voss stood near a large tactical screen, his back to the entrance. He didn’t turn when Frederik entered.
"Colonel Rourke," Albrecht said coolly. "Report."
Frederik straightened and saluted. "North quadrant has stabilized. We’ve pushed the infected back and regained twenty ters. But the cost was high."
Albrecht finally turned. "I expected as much. You’ve done well."
Frederik blinked. That was not the tone he’d anticipated.
The general approached slowly, eyes cold, calculating. "I’m going to give you sothing," he said. "A gift. Or a burden, depending on how you use it."
Frederik frowned. "Sir?"
Albrecht motioned toward the door behind him. "You’ll see soon enough."
The echo of their footsteps followed them as General Albrecht Voss descended into the depths of the military complex, with Colonel Frederik Rourke a step behind. Dim, sterile lights lined the tallic corridor, casting long shadows across the reinforced walls. A faint hum vibrated beneath their boots, machines, ventilation, sothing unnatural.
As they passed through a series of biotric locks, Frederik’s eyes widened. Beyond the last door, a massive underground facility stretched before them. Dozens of white-coated scientists bustled between workstations, data screens flickering with strange symbols and fluctuating energy patterns.
Frederik muttered, "All this... underneath the base?"
General Albrecht didn’t answer imdiately. He walked forward with steady steps, until they reached a large observation window overlooking a sealed containnt chamber.
Inside, Frederik saw it, him.
A teenage boy, encased in crystalized ice, suspended in the center of the room like a preserved relic.
Near him, on a surgical platform, was sothing far more disturbing, a pulsing mass of flesh, barely the size of a football, twitching with a slow, unnatural rhythm. The sight made Frederik’s stomach twist.
Albrecht folded his hands behind his back and finally spoke.
"You’ve worked hard, Colonel. All these ti... fighting without gifts, without powers. And yet, you’ve never wavered."
Frederik, still staring at the grotesque form in the lab, nodded slowly.
"It’s my duty. Nothing more."
The general turned toward another chamber with thick reinforced glass. Inside were tal canisters etched with warning symbols.
"This," Albrecht said, tapping the glass, "is our future. A delivery system. Gas. It contains a refined parasite, one that will grant evolution."
Frederik’s brow furrowed. "Evolution...?"
Albrecht’s voice was calm, resolute.
"Yes. With this, no human will ever need to cower behind walls again. No more praying for miracles from skill users. Everyone, will be able to fight. To kill. To survive."
He turned to face Frederik fully, his gaze piercing.
"I’m offering you sothing few ever receive, Colonel. A choice. Stand beside , and lead a new generation of humanity. No longer weak. No longer prey. But evolved, empowered... superior."
Frederik swallowed, eyes flickering between the gas canisters, Claus’s frozen body, and the writhing abomination on the table.
"And if I refuse?" he asked, voice low.
General Albrecht’s smile was subtle, but dangerous.
"Then you return to your dying soldiers, and nothing changes. But I think you’re smarter than that."
He leaned in slightly.
"So I ask you again, Colonel Rourke. Do you want to lead humanity into the new era?"
-------×-------
A week had passed in the military base, and Julian’s group had begun to adapt to the rhythm of war. Their skill and coordination on the battlefield quickly earned them recognition. They beca sowhat famous among the soldiers, respected not just for their power, but also for their ability to work together with the regular troops.
Lucia, who had initially been skeptical of them, gradually ward up, especially toward Aya. Conversations between the two beca more frequent, and the others began to notice sothing more subtle, Lucia’s lingering glances at Elien, her comrade. It was clear to everyone now, she harbored feelings for him.
That evening, the group was resting near the western camp, enjoying a rare mont of quiet. Suddenly, without warning, a rocket shot into the sky from the central district. All eyes turned upward as the projectile split into four, streaking toward the cardinal directions, north, south, east, and west.
Julian was the first to react.
"Sothing’s wrong," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Stay back. That wasn’t a flare."
The western rocket exploded in midair, releasing a thick, unnatural gas that drifted down in a glowing mist.
Clarissa stepped forward, placing herself between the gas and the others. "Get behind !" she shouted, activating her telekinesis. A barrier ford in front of them, shimring with invisible force.
The gas spread fast. Soldiers and personnel across the western camp began coughing violently, clutching their throats. Their eyes widened in panic as sothing unseen entered their lungs. A few collapsed, screaming, convulsing.
"Put on your masks!" Lucia shouted, frost forming around her hands as she tried to freeze the cloud.
But it was already too late. The gas had reached too many. Cries of pain erupted from the mist, and chaos unfolded.
"Clarissa, drop the shield!" Julian barked.
She looked at him in surprise. "What?"
Julian’s voice was calm but urgent. "That gas only infects those without skills. Let it pass through us. We’re immune."
Clarissa hesitated, then nodded, lowering the shield as instructed. The gas washed over them, but as Julian predicted, none of the skill users were affected. They remained steady as soldiers around them twisted in agony.
Lucia gritted her teeth, her fists trembling. "What the hell is going on...?"
Julian’s eyes turned cold, watching the destruction around them. "This wasn’t a zombie attack... this was orchestrated."
They watched in horror as the infected suddenly rose to their feet, eyes glowing crimson. Without warning, they turned violent, brutally attacking anyone nearby. Panic erupted across all sides of the base like wildfire.
Julian shouted urgently, "Everyone who can still fight, gather around the skill users! Now!"
Lucia followed with a command of her own, "Those not infected, fall back to the western side!" But her voice was drowned in the chaos and screams.
The infected surged forward with terrifying strength, overpowering even the skill users. Within monts, those who had powers were being slaughtered one after another. The enemy was faster, stronger, and more ruthless than anything they had faced before.
Julian had managed to regroup with Lucia and Elien at his side. His voice was firm, "We have to fall back now."
Lucia clenched her fists. "I can’t leave my troops!"
"A leader’s survival cos first," Julian replied sharply. "If you die here, they’ll have no one to lead them."
Lucia looked into his eyes, conflicted, but then gave a reluctant nod.
They rushed toward the western gate, only to find the guards stationed there already infected. Their eyes were blood-red, their bodies trembling but unnaturally strong. They stood blocking the path, aggressive and unrelenting.
Julian stepped forward and unleashed his skill, [Lightning], electrocuting them into unconsciousness.
But then, to everyone’s shock, the bodies twitched, and stood back up, still attacking.
With a heavy heart, Julian slashed one of them down. The body split, but just seconds later, the wounds began closing up rapidly. Regeneration.
Elien’s eyes widened. "That... it’s just like my ability. [Nerve Grace]..."
Clarissa imdiately responded to Julian’s hand signal. Using her telekinesis, she grabbed one of the infected guards and flung him aside with brute force.
They continued pressing forward, trying to break through the now-hostile western gate.
As they ran, Julian turned to Elien. "You sure about this?"
Elien nodded firmly. "Yes. Their regeneration... it’s too similar."
"When I was in detention, soone took a sample of my blood. Maybe... this is what they created from it."
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