The air in the tent pressed down heavy, thick with sweat and dust, as if it too were waiting for someone to snap.
Niri hadn't moved since the specter vanished. She sat hunched, elbows grinding into her knees, scarf damp where she had chewed the edge raw. Her palms were pressed so tight together her nails cut crescents into her skin. She hadn't lifted her head once, not since the words left his mouth.
Mission.
The word looped sharp in her skull, cutting deeper each time it circled back. He said she had a mission. What kind? Why didn't they take her home? Why leave her here? Why keep her blind, gagged, with pieces torn out of her own mind?
Why won't they tell me anything?
Her stomach rolled with every heartbeat. She wanted to scream. To drive her fists through the dirt floor until the ground cracked. Instead, she sat silent, suffocating in her own skin.
Around her, the others shifted in uneven quiet. None of them dared break it first.
Horn's eyes never left her. His stare pinned like claws, not at her face—never her face—but at her throat, her chest, every rise and fall of her breath. As if he were memorizing how a human breathed, so he could decide whether it was worth sparing or killing.
Thall still stood braced like a post, though sweat ran in a line from his temple down his jaw. His hands flexed at his sides, not fists, not open, as though he hadn't decided what came next.
Ronan sat collapsed against the canvas wall, knees drawn tight, fingers tangled in his hair. His lips moved with whispers too faint to catch. A laugh. A prayer. A curse. Maybe all three.
Qiri stayed at Niri's shoulder. Close enough that the brush of cloth was both comfort and threat. She didn't touch. Didn't speak. Didn't even breathe too loud. But she was there.
It was Lu'Ka who finally moved.
He rose with deliberate calm, his shadow bending across the lantern glow. His presence settled heavy on the air—not by weight, but by control. When he spoke, his words cut like iron.
"Listen to me."
Every head turned. Even Horn's glare shifted.
"From this point forward," Lu'Ka said, voice low but absolute, "you five are a band."
The word landed heavy. In Grounx training, a band wasn't just a squad—it was a blood tie, a survival pact.
His gaze moved from Thall, to Horn, to Qiri, to Ronan, and finally to Niri. "Your purpose is simple. Conceal Niri's identity. Protect her from exposure at any cost. The Council will come searching for answers now that communications are restored. They will interrogate cadets. They will demand the truth. If it leaks, she won't survive."
The silence pressed harder than before.
Qiri straightened, stiff but steady. "A band." She repeated it, staking the word into place.
Thall gave a single nod, sharp and curt. "Understood."
Ronan let out a broken laugh, dragging his hands through his hair and leaving streaks of dust on his forehead. "Perfect. The five of us against the galaxy. Doomed already."
No one answered him.
Lu'Ka ignored the joke, his gaze steady on Niri. "What did he say to you, Niri? In your language."
Her throat closed. She wanted to lie, shrug it off—but his eyes held her still.
"He said…" She swallowed hard, voice scraping raw. "He said I have a mission."
The tent seemed to hold its breath.
Lu'Ka leaned forward. "And what do you think that mission is?"
Her mouth opened, but nothing came. Her fists tightened, nails cutting deeper. She stared at the dirt. "I don't know, Professor. I really don't."
The quiet stretched.
Then Horn's growl split it, bitter and sharp. "To conquer us. To finish what your kind started. Enslave us. Bleed us dry."
The words cracked like a whip.
Niri's head lifted, slow. Her eyes locked on his, dark and steady. She didn't shout. Didn't tremble. Her voice was plain, stripped bare.
"If we wanted that… if our ships wanted that… what could you possibly do to stop us?"
The words hit like stone.
No one spoke.
Thall's shoulders tensed. Qiri's lips parted, then pressed shut. Ronan's mouth opened and closed without sound. Even Horn froze, rage strangled into silence.
Niri's voice stayed flat. "So no. I don't think my mission is to enslave you. Because what would be the point?"
The silence that followed was worse than before.
Lu'Ka cut through again, smooth and certain. "We stay hidden. Every word of this dies in this tent. When Council security arrives, they will question all of us. We give them nothing. Only the Chancellor knows what Niri is, and only her influence can shield this truth. We rely on that."
No one moved. The band wasn't chosen—it was forced into being.
Then the tent flap snapped open.
Cold air rushed in as the canvas whipped back. Professor Rhiv stood in the gap, eyes wide, lantern glow painting his face pale.
For a single breath, nobody moved.
Then Horn lunged.
He seized Rhiv by the throat and slammed him against the post. The lantern rattled. Rhiv gagged, legs kicking under Horn's grip.
"What did you hear?" Horn snarled, spit flying. "Tell us, or you die."
Rhiv's face darkened fast. His hands clawed at Horn's arm, useless.
"Leave him," Thall barked, but Horn's grip only tightened.
"Release him, Horn." Lu'Ka's voice cut steady, no louder than before. "He knows. That's why he's here."
For a moment, Horn's rage burned unchecked. Then, with a growl, he shoved Rhiv back. The professor staggered, coughing, bent forward as if he'd drowned in air.
When he spoke, his voice rasped. "I… I got a visit. From him. The same human general."
Every body in the tent went still.
Niri's chest tightened. "What?"
Rhiv swallowed, clutching his throat. "He came to me. Said I had to participate in your protection. That the humans had placed you in danger. That you'd be… compensated."
The word slammed into her again. Compensated.
Rhiv's hand trembled as he reached into his robe. He drew out a sphere—fist-sized, red light pulsing deep inside. He held it forward with both hands. "He gave me this. Said it was meant for you."
The air thinned.
Niri froze. Her eyes locked on the orb, and everything else blurred. The glow, the hum in its surface—just like hers.
Her orb. The blue one. Its twin.
Silence.
Qiri's breath hitched. Thall's jaw locked. Ronan pressed harder against the wall, eyes darting between the red glow and Niri. Horn's glare stayed fixed, but even he didn't move.
Niri's hands shook as she reached for it. The orb was cold, humming faintly against her palms. She didn't understand what it was—or what the two together could do.
Her voice cracked. "Why… why give this to me?"
Rhiv's voice shook. "He said it was the humans' way of compensating you for being placed in danger."
He hesitated, then looked at Lu'Ka. "And he told me… that I could learn much from Niri. About how humans wage war."
Niri blinked hard. "What? I don't know anything."
Rhiv's expression shifted, remembering. "In the classroom. When you suggested that strategy… the one that shocked everyone. I think… he was pointing to that."
Niri's throat burned. Compensated. Mission. Classified. Words like chains, locking her out of her own truth.
She wanted to laugh. Almost did.
Instead, she lifted her gaze, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. "If this is compensation… then what exactly do they think I've lost?"
No one answered.
Lu'Ka broke the silence. "One more member, then. Welcome to the band, Professor Rhiv."
Rhiv let out a breath, half laugh, half disbelief. "I never imagined… I'd see a human alive. Not in my lifetime. This changes everything."
Qiri finally spoke, her voice low but tight. "Now what do we do?"
Rhiv glanced toward the flap. "The other professors already have the communications back online. The Council will arrive soon. Until then, we stay here. And we follow Lu'Ka's instructions."
Then the air shifted.
The lantern's glow snapped once, shadows pulling tight against the canvas. A low hum built under Niri's ribs, crawling up her spine.
Her blue orb slipped into the air in front of her.
Not from her pack. Not from her hands. It just appeared, hovering, alive.
Every head turned.
Niri jerked back, shoulders striking canvas, breath dragging hard. She hadn't called it. She hadn't moved. But it was there, burning.
The red orb in her palms began to vibrate, humming louder, harder. The pulse ran straight through her bones until her teeth ached.
Then both orbs dragged toward each other.
The red tore free of her hands. The blue drifted forward. They spun together in the narrow space between them, colliding in tight circles, grinding light against light.
Sparks ripped through the tent—red shards, blue streaks—scattering like metal on fire.
Everyone froze.
Thall's stance widened, braced for impact.
Horn's hand snapped toward his belt, then froze, jaw locked.
Qiri's arm twitched forward, then back again, her breath sharp.
Ronan pressed into the wall, voice cracking out too loud:
"What the fuck is this?"
No answer.
The orbs slammed together.
Not gentle. Violent. Their glow flared hard enough to bleach faces white, then plunged them into deep blue. Red and blue smashed into each other, back and forth, until the colors bled together.
One shape.
The merged orb hung in the air, surface swirling like liquid, red twisting into blue, blue flooding into red. Never still. Never one thing.
Niri's pulse hammered. Her lungs locked. The sound filled her chest like it was her own heartbeat.
Horn's voice rumbled low, dangerous. "That's not natural."
Ronan let out a sharp, broken laugh. "Not natural? It's two alien stones fusing in front of us! You call that not natural?!"
"Shut up," Horn snapped, but his eyes stayed fixed.
Qiri's whisper cut the air. "It's hers."
All eyes turned to her.
Her jaw was tight, but her voice didn't waver. "Both of them. They're hers."
The orb pulsed once—deep violet light blasting out, washing every canvas seam, every face.
Niri swallowed hard, her voice breaking out before she could stop it. "I didn't call it."
Nobody argued.
Nobody could.
The orb just hung there, humming....