When Valtor's eyes fluttered open, he was no longer in the room he and his father had just entered. Instead, he stood in a different lab altogether.
He glanced down at himself. He had on a blue collared shirt with a silver S stitched over the chest. Black corporate trousers. Polished shoes. In his hands—an electronic tablet and a smart pen.
A flicker of memory stirred. I had recently graduated from the Federal Institute of Science and Technology in Nexis…and just begun my internship at Dad's company.
Turning toward the wide windows, Valtor's gaze fell to the floors below. A group of Vatican soldiers emerged from an elevator, moving in formation. Two by two, they carried stretchers laden with limp figures toward a chamber on the second floor. He silently counted—five pairs of soldiers, five stretchers—before they vanished inside.
A chill pricked the back of his neck. What's happening down there?
He waited, heart pounding, until the soldiers returned and descended to the first floor. Then, seizing his chance, he made his way to the second floor and stopped at the door of the chamber they'd entered—the Experimental Room.
The handle refused to budge...'Locked'.
Valtor leaned closer to the frosted windows. The fluorescent lights within cast a sickly glow over what lay inside. His stomach dropped.
Five young people sat strapped to steel-framed chairs, wrists and ankles bound, heads slumped as though unconscious.
He pressed closer, breath fogging the glass—when movement caught his eye.
The boy in the second chair stirred, eyelids fluttering open. He thrashed weakly against his restraints, the muffled cries beneath the tape across his mouth filled the silence. His wide, desperate eyes locked onto Valtor's through the glass as if calling out to him.
Valtor's breath hitched. Every instinct screamed at him to help, yet his body refused to move. His legs trembled as he stumbled backward.
Panic overcame him. He spun on his heels and rushed into the elevator, jabbing the button for the first floor. He pressed himself against the wall, chest heaving, unable to steady his thoughts.
When the doors slid open, he bolted toward his father's office, desperate for answers, terrified of what he had just seen.
....................
With ragged breaths, Lynx and Orea vaulted out of the last fire trap, flames snapping at their heels. The ground behind them hissed as the pits sealed, but Orea barely noticed—her eyes locked on the stretch of clear tar road ahead. No more fire. No more smoke. Just open space leading to a looming concrete hall in the distance.
She exhaled in relief, only to glance sideways and spot Zara. A few meters off, Zara stumbled free from her own fire pit gauntlet, dragging behind her were Rowynn and Kymani. Their eyes met. Zara's lips curved into a challenging smile before she broke into a sprint.
"Oh no, you don't!" Orea snapped, immediately breaking into a run.
"Lynx!" she called over the pounding of her footsteps. "Any idea how to get there before they do? The medal's probably in that hall!"
"I might," he shouted back, skidding to a stop. He shot his palm towards the ground, a sheet of glittering frost racing across the tar. A grin tugged at his lips as the lane froze solid.
"Orea!" he waved her over. She doubled back just in time to see him shaping some frost into a curved sledge of solid ice.
"There," he said with satisfaction. "We'll ride in this. I'll keep laying ice lanes ahead as we go. You-" he shot her a look, "-keep us alive if more traps spring up."
Excitement sparked across Orea's face. "Deal!"
They hopped onto the sledge. The moment they steadied themselves, Orea's eyes flashed grey and a cyclone of wind roared to life around them. The sledge shot forward like a rocket, skimming the ice.
"Whooo!" she whooped, arms raised as they blazed past Zara's team. Lynx leaned low, concentrating, his hands sketching new strips of icy track ahead before the old ones melted behind them.
The hall loomed closer with each breathless second. Just as victory seemed within reach, the ground shook. Metallic footsteps thundered from the shadows of the entrance.
Average-sized robots marched out in formation, their polished bodies glinting under the light. Panels on their arms snapped open, revealing gadget-like weapons that whirred to life and locked onto the incoming sledge.
Lynx leaned in close, voice low and urgent. "You got this?"
Orea's smile hardened into focus. She planted her feet on the ice, summoning dark clouds overhead. Lightning flickered in her eyes.
"Yeah," she said. "Let's fry them."