Lunch came and went like a blur—a quiet meal, heavy with the weight of the morning's revelation. No one said much. Even Luca, who usually cracked three jokes before finishing his first bite, seemed distracted, occasionally glancing down the table toward the purple-accented trio.
Clancy barely tasted the food. His mind was still looping over the phrase:
They've seen time itself.
When the bell rang signaling the start of afternoon training, the recruits gathered as usual—expecting the same stretch of drills, sparring, and grappling sessions inside the compact combat hall they'd come to hate and tolerate in equal measure.
But this time, they weren't led there.
Instead, they were directed down a long corridor Clancy hadn't seen before—wider, quieter, and sterile in a different way. The walls turned from steel to stark white. Eventually, the group entered a massive room that looked more like a minimalist gymnasium from the future than anything military.
The entire space was covered in padded white flooring, and the walls were coated in seamless shock-absorbent material. The ceiling stretched at least thirty feet high, and clean, artificial light poured in from panels recessed into the edges.
It felt... neutral. Like it had been designed for something unpredictable.
Clancy glanced around at the others. Jihoon's posture had straightened. Mira looked alert. Even Mariana was flexing her fingers like she expected something to go wrong.
That's when Instructor Garrick entered—not through the main door, but from a side panel that sealed behind him with a hydraulic hiss. He was in uniform, as usual, clipboard in one hand, and an expression that screamed "listen carefully or bleed later."
"Line up," he barked.
They did.
Garrick scanned them for a moment, then began speaking—blunt, direct, no-nonsense.
"Starting today, and continuing every other week moving forward, you'll no longer be training alone."
He clicked his pen and checked something off.
"You'll be joined in your sessions by recruits from the Lucent program."
There was a noticeable shift in the room. Someone near Clancy exhaled sharply. Luca muttered a quiet, "Hoo boy."
Garrick continued, tone as dry as sandpaper. "This hall has been designated as a shared training zone—neutral space, built to accommodate both standard and Lucent-specific combat dynamics."
Clancy glanced toward the far side of the room—just in time to see a door open, and the three purple-accented recruits step inside.
Lena. Evelyn. Alek.
The air seemed to change with them. Not dramatically. Not visually. Just... subtly.
Like the room suddenly knew it had to behave differently.
Clancy's eyes narrowed slightly.
'Alright. Let's see what you three actually do.'
Garrick let the silence hang for a moment as the Lucents lined up opposite the recruits, their purple-accented uniforms pristine and unbothered by the tension in the room.
Then he spoke.
"Today's exercise is different," he said, voice echoing slightly against the padded walls. "Each Lucent will face three of you at once."
That got a few reactions—mostly quiet glances, furrowed brows, and one audible "wait, what?" from Luca that died under Garrick's glare.
"These aren't sparring matches," Garrick continued. "This is assessment through pressure. You are to engage with controlled force. That means no cheap shots, no permanent damage, and no breaking their bones—unless, of course, they break yours first."
Clancy didn't miss the faint smirk tugging at Garrick's mouth as he glanced down at his clipboard.
"Teams are as follows."
He looked up.
"Endicott. Romano. Lockwood. You're up first. You'll engage Alek."
Clancy blinked. "Wait—the kid?"
He looked toward Alek, who stood with his hands in his pockets, swaying lightly on his heels like he was waiting in line for recess.
Still looked like a ten-year-old. Still just as punchable.
"Lucky us," Luca muttered under his breath. "Three-on-one and we drew the gremlin."
Clancy wasn't sure whether to laugh or start stretching.
The entire two weeks Clancy had been at the OTA, all Alek had done was sleep, insult the rest of the recruits and yell at his sister, Mariana in a thick eastern European accent.
Garrick went on.
"Baek. Dorian. Mariana. You're second. Your target is Lena Hargrave."
Clancy glanced toward Lena—sharp-eyed, unmoving. Her posture looked relaxed, but there was something about her stillness that felt... calculated. Like a wire stretched tight.
Garrick finished his instructions. "When I call your name, step forward. The goal isn't to win. The goal is to learn. And if you don't—"
He glanced at Alek, then back at the recruits.
"—you'll learn the hard way."
The clipboard snapped shut.
"First team. On the mat."
Clancy exhaled and stepped forward.
'How hard could it be?'
Then he looked at Alek again.
Still smiling.
Still waiting.
And something about that smile made Clancy's stomach tighten just a bit.
The hall was vast, cold, and almost surreal in its design—a seamless white chamber, wide as a basketball court and tall enough to fit a drop ship. Every surface was smooth, minimalist, and sterile. The walls were padded with shock-absorbent panels, and the floor was cushioned beneath a thin synthetic mat, built to break falls and blunt impact without disrupting footwork.
To Clancy, it felt less like a combat zone and more like a blank canvas.
Which made Alek—standing in the middle of it, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly to the side—the one splash of chaos waiting to paint it red.
Clancy, Luca, and Mira spread out slowly, instinctively forming a semi-circle around him. None of them moved in just yet.
Alek yawned.
Actually yawned.
"You know," he said, kicking a nonexistent speck of dust off his shoe, "Garrick said I could go easy on you guys today. But that's no fun."
Luca squinted at him. "You sure you're not just here for daycare?"
Alek grinned, wide and toothy. "You're gonna regret that."
Clancy's eyes narrowed. Mira didn't blink.
They began to move in—cautious, measured steps, reading each other's spacing. Mira was the first to adjust her stance, lowering her center of gravity. Clancy mirrored her. Luca cracked his neck with a loud pop.
Alek didn't move. Didn't flinch. He just lifted one hand and snapped his fingers.
The room responded.
Without warning, a dozen small metal spheres—training drones the size of baseballs, previously dormant along the walls—ripped free from their magnetic locks. They rose into the air and hovered for a beat… before launching at the recruits like bullets.
"Scatter!" Clancy shouted.
They dove in different directions, barely dodging the first volley. The drones smashed into the floor with sharp metallic thuds, ricocheting and buzzing angrily like wasps made of steel.
"Okay," Luca shouted mid-roll, "kid's not normal!"
"No kidding!" Clancy snapped, flipping up and darting behind one of the thicker wall pads for cover.
Alek stood calmly in the middle of the chaos, one hand raised, fingers twitching slightly as the drones moved like extensions of his will. He wasn't dodging. He wasn't panicking. He was controlling the battlefield.
Mira darted around the side, attempting to flank. Two of the drones spun toward her, and before she could react, they slammed into the floor ahead of her, forming a barricade. She leapt over them—but Alek swiped his hand sideways, and she was suddenly caught mid-air by an invisible force, her body yanked sideways and slammed into a padded wall.
She grunted and rolled to her feet, stunned.
"He's throwing us like dolls," she muttered.
Clancy charged in, using the distraction, keeping low. He launched into a spinning side kick—his favorite from taekwondo—but Alek didn't even try to dodge. He lifted one hand and caught Clancy mid-motion with a telekinetic shove.
Clancy's foot never landed. He was thrown backward like someone had pulled a wire attached to his chest, sliding several feet before crashing shoulder-first into the mat.
He gasped, winded.
Luca, meanwhile, was yelling—probably to hype himself up more than anything—and darted forward in a zigzag pattern, dodging the now-hovering drones.
Alek cocked his head. "Aw. You're trying."
Three drones responded to his raised hand, spinning like drills.
They slammed into Luca's chest and ribs in succession—thump-thump-THUD—and sent him flying backward like a ragdoll. He hit the mat hard, bounced once, and groaned.
Clancy pushed to his feet, lungs burning.
'He's not just moving objects. He's tracking us—reading us like chess pieces.'
Alek finally moved from his spot, hands still in his hoodie pockets, walking slowly forward like he was out for a stroll.
Mira lunged again—faster this time, smarter. She slid low and swept at his legs, hoping to knock him off balance.
It almost worked.
Almost.
Alek levitated three inches off the ground a split-second before the sweep landed, smirked, then extended both arms outward.
A kinetic blast radiated from his body, like a shockwave made of pure force. It knocked Mira and Clancy backward again—nothing bone-breaking, but enough to daze and reset them.
"This is training, by the way," Alek said cheerfully. "Imagine if I was trying."
Clancy staggered upright, eyes wild, finally seeing Alek for what he was—not a kid. Not a liability. A weapon. A telekinetic monster with the personality of a playground menace.
He wiped blood from his lip.
"Luca!" he shouted. "You alive?"
A groan answered him from behind a wall mat. "Define 'alive.'"
Mira regrouped at Clancy's side, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from her temple. "This isn't a fight. It's dodgeball with psychic missiles."
Clancy's eyes locked on Alek, who had resumed his idle stroll across the mat, eyes glinting with amusement, a single drone hovering like a pet just over his shoulder.
'He's not even breaking a sweat.'
Clancy reflected back on Alek's previous words and how he had stated that he was the strongest and best combatant among the 9 of them. And although he hated to admit that a little gnome could actually beat him, he couldn't help but agree with the assessment. Not only was this fighting style completely foreign to him, he struggled to understand how to defeat him by himself.
Clancy narrowed his eyes.
"Then we stop playing fair."
And together, they charged.