Lena Voss paced the Mauna Kea Observatory's control room, her breath sharp in the high-altitude chill, the weight of her discovery pressing like a storm. At 32, she was unraveling the universe's secrets, her hacked feed into Project Veilwatch's servers spilling truths no one else saw: a 10-teraton surge, March 07, 23:47, tied to Andromeda's halo, spawning rifts and powers across the U.S. 85% of the universe is dark matter and energy, bending reality. Her notebook lay open, equations frantic, a Red Bull can dented beside it. The monitors flickered, data scrolling, anomalous subjects, containment priority, awakened assets deployed. They've known too long.
"This can't be right," she muttered, rubbing her eyes, equations blurring. "I need a break."
A thud broke the silence. Lena froze, heart lurching. The observatory's lights flickered, her monitors glitching. Three figures in black tactical gear stood in the doorway, wrist devices humming, no creak, no warning. A drone hovered behind them, its red lens glowing, whine piercing the quiet.
"Dr. Lena Voss," the lead agent said, voice low, stepping forward. "We need you to come with us."
Lena's stomach twisted. "Who are you people? I'm in the middle of critical work here—get out!"
The lead agent's device flashed, scanning her. "Project Veilwatch. You've accessed our system, Dr. Voss. We can't discuss it here. Move."
"Accessed?" Lena forced a laugh, fear prickling her spine. "I'm tracking cosmic surges tearing up the States. If you're Veilwatch, you know I'm saving lives. You can't just barge in and…"
The second agent, a woman, stepped forward, stun baton sparking faintly. "We can, and we will. Cooperate, or we make this harder."
Lena's pulse raced. Her phone lay among scattered notes, her drive exposed. No time to wipe it. She grabbed her phone, shoved her notebook into her jacket, and palmed a Red Bull can, scrawling "Check here" on a sticky note inside its tab, a desperate plea for anyone who found it. As the agents closed in, she tossed the can under the console, praying it'd reach someone. She darted for the side door, but the female agent blocked her, baton raised.
"No games, Voss," the lead said, gripping her arm firmly. "Let's go."
The night air stung as they dragged her to a black van, engine growling. A blindfold tightened, plunging her into darkness. Doors slammed, tires screeched, and the van lurched into the night.
The van's hum was brief, agent chatter, "containment failure in Denver," "rift cluster spiking in Ohio" seeping through Lena's blindfold. After a short ride, the van stopped. Hands guided her out, the air cooler, tinged with jet fuel. A low roar grew… an aircraft. They're flying me stateside. She was hustled up a ramp, the blindfold keeping her disoriented, and strapped into a seat. The plane's engines whined, lifting off, the pressure pinning her as murmurs continued: "Asset secured," "Nevada ETA, three hours."
Time blurred, the flight's drone numbing her senses. A jolt signaled landing, desert heat seeping through as they transferred her to another van. Boots crunched sand, the blindfold ripped off. A concrete bunker loomed, Nevada's dunes swallowing it, steel doors hissing open like a tomb. Inside, fluorescent halls buzzed, the air thick with antiseptic masking a faint, acrid tang… goblin ichor, Lena guessed. Scientists in white coats darted between labs, monitors flashing U.S.-centric surge data. Military patrols marched, rifles slung, while trainees jogged past, some trailing purple threads, others lifting metal crates effortlessly. One trainee's skin shimmered, deflecting a sparring blow. Powers, real.
Lena's jaw tightened as an agent nudged her forward. A containment cell's window caught her eye: a goblin, squat and grotesque, its red eyes glowing through reinforced glass, claws scraping with a screech that clawed her nerves.
"Where am I?" she asked, shaking off the agent's hand. "And why the hell did you drag me across the Pacific? I'm an astrophysicist, not a prisoner."
The lead agent gestured to a steel door. "You'll get answers inside, Dr. Voss. Keep moving."
The door opened to a command room, screens pulsing with Andromeda's halo, surge graphs pinpointing U.S. hotspots, Ohio, Nevada, Tulsa… and goblin anatomies: slate skin, red eyes, purple sheen rippling. A woman stood, 28, sharp-faced, her cloak glinting with Veilwatch's steel claw insignia. Faint purple mist trailed her hand, glowing softly, like the healer from Ohio. Her eyes met Lena's, steady but guarded.
"Dr. Voss," she said, voice calm but firm. "I'm Agent Mara Solis. You're here because you hacked our servers and traced our surge field logs. That was bold, but your VPN wasn't as secure as you thought."
Lena crossed her arms, defiance flaring. "So you kidnap me for doing my job? I'm mapping dark matter surges tearing up the States… goblins, powers, chaos. If you're Veilwatch, you know what's at stake. Why hide it?"
Mara's mist faded slightly, her expression softening a fraction. "We're not hiding, Dr. Voss. We're containing a crisis before it spreads. Your work detecting dark energy shifts at 10^27 eV/m^3 outstrips our tech. We've been watching you since your 'Cosmic Contingencies' paper last year. We need your expertise."
Lena raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Need me? For what, exactly? Your secret war games? Give me a reason to stay, or I'm walking."
Mara gestured to a wiry scientist, 40s, glasses fogged, who stepped forward with a tablet. "Dr. Voss, I'm Dr. Patel," he said, voice measured, tapping the screen to show a surge graph, spikes matching the Ohio rift. "These surges are dark energy floods, likely tied to Andromeda's halo. They're bending space, spawning creatures across the U.S. No other countries have reported surges, but allies like the UK, Canada, and Japan are setting up their own Veilwatch branches in case this goes global."
Lena leaned in, pulse quickening. "U.S.-only for now? That's why the halo's closing faster than it should, isn't it?"
Patel nodded, swapping to a goblin schematic. "Precisely. Their purple sheen deflects most weapons—bullets, knives, axes. Fifty-caliber rounds work, but we can't turn cities into warzones."
"So why not arm everyone and end it?" Lena pressed, her scientific curiosity clashing with her distrust.
Mara answered, her mist flaring briefly. "Too chaotic. The surges are waking powers in a few people with mitochondrial anomalies. Their cells process dark energy, not just ATP. How exactly, is still unknown and is moot as far as I'm concerned. Some project it, like energy threads. Others absorb it, enhancing their strength, speed. I'm a healer, mending tissue. All have a faint, instinctual shield. We haven't seen multiple skills in one person, but the potential's there."
Lena's mind raced, a memory flashing remembering her father pointing at Orion, promising the stars held answers. This is bigger than I dreamed. She glanced through a training bay window: trainees sparring, purple threads lashing, one lifting crates, another shimmering under blows. "So you're building an army to fight these things while allies scramble?" she asked, excitement bubbling beneath her skepticism.
Mara's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Not an army but a defense. Your surge maps, like the 10-teraton spike in Ohio, predict where rifts hit. Work with us, or we cut you off from the data you need."
Lena smirked, masking her unease. "Sounds like you need me more than I need you, Solis. I'll consider it, but I want terms and full access to the Starshield constellation, no secrets."
Mara's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. "We'll negotiate terms soon enough. For now, Nevada's your lab. Start tonight."
Mara led Lena through a corridor, the buzz of the training bay growing louder. Two trainees stood out: a young woman in greasy jeans, purple threads sparking faintly from her hands, and a hulking man, biceps bulging, his swagger faltering under a trainer's scrutiny. Ohio recruits, Lena recalled, matching them to Veilwatch's logs.
The woman lashed threads at a dummy, slicing it cleanly, her smirk confident but eyes darting, like she sensed the room's weight. The muscle bound man swung a weighted bar, grunting loudly, but no purple sheen or surge marked him. A trainer, lean and sharp-eyed, scanned them with a device, her brow furrowing at his results.
"Riley, ranged damage," the trainer said, nodding approval. "Strong output, good control. You're advancing to combat drills." She turned to the man, scanning again, the device beeping. "Chad… negative. No mitochondrial anomaly."
Chad's face reddened, his grip tightening on the bar. "That's crap! I took down those goblins in Ohio, saved lives! Scan me again, your tech's busted."
Riley glanced at him, her threads dimming, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Lena watched, intrigued. He's bluffing, but why?
The trainer crossed her arms, unimpressed. "The scanner doesn't lie, kid. You're a null, no powers but you are strong. Your file claimed enhanced strength, but there's nothing extra here."
Chad stepped forward, voice rising. "I'm no null! I fought those things, got Riley out alive. You gonna toss me because your toy's off?"
Mara intervened, her mist coiling faintly. "Enough," she said, her tone calm but final. "You've seen rifts, Chad, and you held your own. That's worth something. We're short on hands—train him as grunt support. Logistics, containment backup, whatever keeps him useful."
The trainer hesitated, then marked her tablet. "Fine. Grunt duty it is. Riley, advanced drills. Chad, report to gear bay."
Chad muttered under his breath, shoulders slumping, while Riley gave him a sidelong look, part pity, part suspicion before following a trainer. Lena caught Riley's eye, her threads a vivid echo of the Ohio logs. She's powerful, but she knows something's off with him. Chad's bravado, now cracked, lingered in Lena's mind.
"That means the other guy killed those goblins, what was his name?... Kai," Mara whispered to herself but loud enough for Lena to hear.
Mara escorted Lena to a containment lab, a vast chamber with walls studded with sensors blinking like watchful eyes. A reinforced cage stood at the center, holding a captured goblin, its red eyes glinting, claws scraping glass. Scientists monitored screens, tracking a faint purple haze around the creature, its defensive sheen. A sudden hum shook the room, monitors spiking, a 12-teraton surge flaring from an external source in Nevada.
"Alert!" a scientist shouted. "Uncontained rift, 50 miles out!"
The goblin shrieked, its sheen flaring brighter, claws cracking the glass. Trainees rushed in: a wiry girl with glowing threads, a broad-shouldered boy whose skin shimmered, and a lanky boy with nervous eyes. Mara's mist coiled, her face tightening showing a flicker of pain, loss Lena couldn't place.
"Secure it!" Mara called, her mist flaring as she steadied a scientist grazed by flying glass, his cut sealing instantly.
The girl's threads lashed the cage, reinforcing it, while the shimmering boy tackled the goblin's thrashing claws, his skin deflecting blows. "Sam, now!" Mara urged. The lanky boy raised a hand, and the goblin froze, claws pinned by invisible force—telekinesis. The girl's threads calmed the surge's haze, the creature slumping, subdued.
Lena scribbled, heart racing. The surge's energy matched her models, but Veilwatch's containment lagged. "Your sensors missed that spike," she said, glancing at Patel. "My maps could've given you a heads-up."
Patel adjusted his glasses, nodding. "Impressive, Dr. Voss. We could use that precision. Show us how you do it."
Lena gripped her notebook, the goblin's stench, rot and sulfur, lingering. Veilwatch was scrambling, and she was their edge.
In the bunker, Lena sat at a supervised terminal, Mara nearby. A scientist's tablet lay unlocked, a rare slip. Lena seized her chance, pulling up Connect. Posts flooded in: "Sky flickered in Denver, dude threw a car, fake af." "Red-eyed thing in a sewer, Vegas, cops say gas leak." "Goblin trashed my shop in Ohio, no one believes me." She cross-referenced them: gravity blips in Denver, energy spikes in Vegas, patterns Veilwatch missed, all U.S.-based.
One post stopped her, from "HiddenTroll": "Government goons took my friends after goblin attack, real shit." Comments mocked: "CGI trash," "Get a life." The timestamp matched the March 07 surge, Ohio. Her breath hitched. That's who Solis mentioned earlier, Kai. They're going after him.
Heart racing, she hesitated, Veilwatch's surveillance a shadow. Kai's power, if real, could unlock the surges' secrets, maybe even harness them. She typed a DM: "I believe you, can we meet? L.V." Sending it, she encrypted her surge maps, hiding them in a dummy file. If Veilwatch wanted her, they'd play by her rules.
The screens pulsed, Andromeda's halo alive, purple, taunting. Lena's father's voice echoed: The stars hold answers. She'd find them, with Kai, or burn Veilwatch down trying.