"Omega," Dorian murmured, his gaze fixed on the swords he held, as if he were evaluating their weight for the hundredth time. "That guy named Hugo, his Helion is red, right?"
"Yes, sir. His Helion signature is of the red type," Omega replied directly in his mind. "I confirmed it when he activated his gloves moments ago. The energy wavelength matches standard red Helion parameters by ninety-eight percent."
"And you know that those of this type are aggressive, arrogant, and only think about hitting things, right?" Dorian asked, spinning one of the swords in his hand, watching how the light fell on the matte metal.
"That's correct. That is the nature of those whose powers are red Helion," Omega dictated, with that analytical tone he used to present incontrovertible facts. "Studies conducted over centuries have demonstrated a direct correlation between the manifestation of red Helion and certain behavioral patterns: impulsivity, tendency toward direct confrontation, difficulty with long-term planning, and, as you said, a natural inclination to resolve conflicts through brute force."
"But then," Dorian paused, his green eyes shifting toward where Hugo and Kael were, "why is his friend Kael the one who exhibits all these traits?"
"You mean the arrogant attitude, the tendency to seek attention, and the lack of verbal filter?"
"Exactly," Dorian nodded slightly, a movement so subtle that no one observing him closely would notice. "Minus the aggressive part, of course. Since we haven't seen that yet. But everything else... Kael fits the profile of a red Helion perfectly. And yet, his Helion hasn't even manifested yet."
"I've noticed it too, sir," Omega replied, and there was something in his digital voice that suggested he'd been processing that same information for a while. "I've been analyzing their interactions since we entered the room. Kael exhibits behaviors typical of a red Helion in at least seven different categories. Hugo, on the other hand, behaves more like a blue Helion: calculating, observant, meticulous."
"It's as if the roles have been reversed," Dorian said.
He brought a hand to his chin, adopting a posture of deep reflection. To any external observer, he seemed like a young explorer analyzing his new weapons, weighing options, deciding if the short swords were really the right choice.
But in reality, he was discussing with his companion a topic of cosmic significance. An anomaly that defied everything they knew about Helion.
"As he said they grew up together," Omega responded, following the line of thought. "That could explain it. Prolonged exposure to another's Helion can influence personality development, especially during childhood."
"Are you suggesting...?" Dorian left the question unfinished.
"That Kael awakened his Helion first," Omega continued. "And when Hugo awakened his red Helion, Kael was already more powerful than him. Or at least, more experienced. The power dynamic was established before Hugo's red Helion could manifest its typical traits."
"Kael was already more powerful than him," Dorian said, completing the thought.
He had anticipated what Omega was going to say. It was a logical connection. Obvious, once you had all the pieces.
"Exactly, sir."
"If it's not that, I don't know what else it could be," Omega said, and his voice contained a hint of contained frustration, unusual for him. "I've run all the analysis protocols at my disposal. I find no other explanation."
"Truth be told, it feels..." Dorian paused, searching for the exact word. "It feels a bit strange. That someone who doesn't have red Helion carries almost all the traits..."
Another pause.
"Of a person who does have red Helion," he finally said.
"For people already accustomed to that," Omega responded, "this can feel truly strange. It's like seeing a color that shouldn't exist. Like hearing a note in a melody that defies all the rules of harmony."
Dorian nodded slowly.
He said nothing more.
But his eyes, those green eyes that were always watching, evaluating, cataloging, lingered on Hugo and Kael for another moment.
And then returned to his swords.
---
Simultaneous POV of Nayu and Hugo
Nayu was leaning against a column, her staff already collapsed and stored in her belt. From her position, she could see all the group members without any of them being able to see her completely. That was her style. Always.
Her light green eyes moved from Kael—still testing his spear with exaggerated movements—to Hugo—examining his gloves with an almost obsessive concentration—and finally to Dorian—holding his short swords with a stillness that seemed almost unnatural.
And then, without warning, a thought crossed her mind.
How strange.
It wasn't the first time she'd thought it. Ever since Commander Voss had mentioned the mission, ever since he'd said so little about Veridia, something inside her had begun asking questions.
The commander should have given us some other report on Veridia, Nayu thought, frowning slightly. Something like images, videos, temperature data...
Her fingers tapped softly against her forearm.
The intelligent life they mentioned. What the natives of this planet are like. If it's breathable. If there's water. If there's vegetation. If the oxygen is compatible. If the gravity is similar to ours.
But they said none of that.
Nayu clenched her jaw.
These idiots should have realized it by now, she thought, as she observed the others' directions. Even if they are idiots in their personalities.
It wasn't a kind thought. But it wasn't completely derogatory either. It was simply... a realization. A cold evaluation of the situation.
---
On the other side of the training area, Hugo looked up from his gloves for a moment.
His eyes, always quick, always scanning, swept the space. He saw Kael with his spear. He saw Dorian with his swords. He didn't see Nayu, but he knew she was there, somewhere in the shadows.
And then, the same thought crossed his mind.
This isn't normal.
He didn't say it aloud. Didn't make any gesture that could betray him. But inside his head, the pieces were starting to fit together.
The Council always gives detailed reports. Always. Temperature, atmosphere, gravity, potential threats, points of interest. It's the standard protocol.
Hugo remembered every mission he'd participated in. Every briefing. Every data file he'd had to memorize before departure.
But about Veridia, they've given us nothing. Just the name. And "intelligent activity."
His fingers, still inside the gloves, slowly closed into a fist.
They're not idiots, he thought, and for a moment his eyes settled on Kael, still complaining about the weight of his spear. They must have realized it by now.
And Nayu wasn't wrong.
Because Omega had already mentioned this to Dorian. And Dorian had been thinking about it since Voss first mentioned Veridia.
Because Hugo was also thinking this wasn't normal. That the lack of information was deliberate. That there was something they weren't being told.
Because Kael, despite his loud attitude and tendency to complain, had also noticed something didn't fit. He'd felt it in his gut, that uncomfortable sensation that preceded complicated missions.
But none of them said anything to each other about it.
Each kept their suspicions. Each held their conclusions inside their minds.
As if, instinctively, they knew some things weren't yet shared.
As if trust hadn't yet arrived.