Chapter 4
"Alright, here's the plan, Arty," Eve began with an air of overconfidence that immediately made Arthur suspicious. "I use my ID card to get us in the front gate…" Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam, but Arthur immediately turned to her, his disbelief crashing over him like a tidal wave. He couldn't believe she still wasn't taking shit seriously.
"Uh… what? You want us to just walk through the front door? Are you on their watchlist or something?!" he interrupted, his voice rising in anger bordering on panic. He could almost feel the cold barrels of invisible guns aimed at them from every corner of the campus.
Eve rolled her eyes so hard Arthur was sure they'd get stuck. "Would you shut up and let me finish? Geez. They probably don't even know I left, I have only been gone for a day. So, once we're in, we'll park by the Olympic stadium. Then we change into the PT uniforms I brought, and jog onto campus. Easy peasy. They'll think we're just some cadets out for a late-night run."
Arthur gave her the side-eye, the look that said I'm only here because you're my best friend, and I value my life slightly less than your company. Eve responded by yanking a shirt from behind the seat and waving it like a trophy. "I knew you'd be weird about it, so I brought you my ex's PT shirt, don't worry its washed."
"Fantastic. A detail I really didn't need," Arthur muttered, his face contorting into an awkward grimace. He stared out the window, clearly questioning every decision that had brought him to this moment.
Eve smirked, clearly amused by his discomfort, but continued, her voice growing more serious. "Once we're in the cadet area, we head straight to my buddy Bolts' room. We'll stay there until lunchtime when we'll sneak off to Colonel Green's office. He's the foremost expert on Astrons, and he should be able to give us a clue about Avery's plan. He was Avery's favorite teacher."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And that worked perfectly. How do we know they aren't in cahoots."
Eve's face hardened instantly, her grip on the wheel tightened as Arthur smirked. Without a word, she refocused on the road, her expression closing off. A flicker of something passed between them—Arthur felt it like a breeze, brief but unmistakable.
Realizing the danger of pushing her further, Arthur fell silent, his gaze drifting to the passing scenery, now distant and blurry. But after a decade of friendship he knew Eve well enough—she had always been this way, unpredictable, a force of nature. Any more words would make things worse, so instead, he simply reached over, took her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She looked at him, the faintest hint of a smile softening the edges of her tension. "Another issue could be if the Academy made their search for me a priority." Eve's voice softened, but the weight of her words lingered. She met his eyes, her grip tightening. "Arthur, you don't need to worry about Bolts or the Professor though. They're more likely to be entertained by the idea of me being on the run than actually turn me in.
Arthur questioningly turns and asks, "Are their powers like yours?"
Eve's lips curled into a grin. "Their powers are hard to explain. I'll let them tell you when we meet them," her tone lightening the mood slightly.
With that, Eve continued to steer the buggy down the road, the journey ahead drawing near. Forty minutes later, and after a quick stop at a gas station—where Arthur made a hasty pit stop for his highly anticipated cigarettes, they finally approached the Academy's front gate. The world outside seemed to hold its breath, the moment tense with anticipation. The only sound breaking the silence was the gentle crunch of tires rolling across the coarse asphalt, a steady rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of Arthur's heart in his chest.
The campus was vast, looming ahead like a fortress. Arthur's eyes scanned the surroundings with a growing sense of awe and unease, and it only heightened as they neared the towering front gate.
A massive sign hung above the entrance, an ominous green LED arrow pointing to the left lane that read "ID Holders," while a red LED "X" marked the right lane for "Visitors." Beneath the sign, a monstrous security camera—its lens unblinking—hovered above the road, its many mechanical appendages forming a circle like a watchful eye. Arthur's stomach twisted. It wasn't just security—it was an institution.
He turned to Eve, his gaze filled with a thousand unspoken questions, but the expression on her face stopped him cold. For the first time, he saw her terrified. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white, the subtle shake of her body betraying her inner turmoil.
As their buggy crawled toward the booth, Eve's eyes locked onto the gate in front of them, and her face drained of all color. Arthur watched in silent alarm as something else flared in her eyes: regret.
"Eve..." Arthur's voice was quiet, but thick with concern. "What's going on? You alright?"
Her breath hitched as she turned to him, her voice breaking the silence like a knife her previous confidence gone. "Arthur… maybe we should turn back. I didn't expect this. I didn't—" She cut herself off, her voice faltering. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this. What if this is a trap? What if—"
Arthur reached across the seat, cutting her off with a firm, reassuring grip on her arm. "Eve, none of that matters. We're here now. You've already dragged me in, and I chose to follow you. I'm in this with you, okay?" His voice was steady, full of quiet resolve. He couldn't afford to let her second-guess herself. Not now.
But she wasn't done. "Arthur, you don't understand," she whispered, her voice breaking. "That's an automated sentry system. That's a fucking Gatling gun up there, firing hypersonic bullets. It could turn a building into Swiss cheese in seconds. It wasn't here before. They probably put it here because of me. This is bad. Really bad."
Arthur's heart dropped as he realized the gravity of what she was saying. His eyes darted to the towering structure in front of them, the sense of dread crawling up his spine.
"Eve, take a deep breath. Calm down. Damn," he said, trying to steady her. "It's probably here because of the CLF airport attack. Focus. Roll down the window—we're already here."
As the security booth loomed closer, the cold, metallic structure of the gate felt more like a prison than an entrance. Eve took a deep breath, and with a quiet, shaky sigh, she rolled the window down.
Arthur didn't know what awaited them, but as the sound of the guard's voice echoed from the booth, the world seemed to pause. And whatever happened next, they would face it together.
Sweat trickled down Eve's temple like a slow countdown to some unknown explosion, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she rolled down the window. Standing before them, a hulking figure in white camo fatigues and a black bulletproof vest labeled "Security" loomed like a sentinel, his face hidden behind a dark, almost impenetrable visor. The air between them seemed to thicken, every second hanging heavier than the last.
His voice, deep and deliberate, boomed across the car like a deep bass echo. "ID," he commanded, his tone setting the stage for an interrogation that felt far too serious for the circumstances. Eve's fingers fumbled as she reached for her purse, her nerves almost palpable in the air.
But Arthur, his mind now completely distracted, zeroed in on something far more important than a routine check. His eyes caught the gleam of car keys dangling innocuously inside the guard booth. His mouth fell open, his breath catching. "Wait, hold up! You drive a TRX?!" The words exploded from his mouth before he could stop them. "Oh shit, sorry, I'm just a car head. I swear, I could spot those keys anywhere."
Eve whipped around, her orange eyes alight with sudden fire, fury flashing across her face as she stared Arthur down. "What the hell are you doing?" she growled, her glare cutting through him like a dagger. Arthur, suddenly realizing his blunder, stumbled over his words, his voice quickly turning into an awkward mess. "Uh, I— I work on those! Well, for work. Like... in my spare time," he sputtered, hoping to salvage the moment.
The guard's visor shifted, slowly moving from Eve's burning gaze to Arthur's now flustered face. For a moment, silence reigned as he peered at Arthur like he was some sort of rare specimen. Finally, the guard spoke, his voice softening, yet still carrying that calm, stoic intensity. "Actually, yeah, I just bought one. The X450 for the supercharger."
Arthur's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Damn, supercharged too? You've got the good stuff! That job must be paying you well, huh?" He paused, clearly losing track of time and space. "Is it an S8 engine? 'Cause, if you tweak the bioxy carbonate spark plugs, you can keep the boost in starpower, circumvent the solar mileage dip..."
The guard's interest peaked. "Really? 'Cause the mileage's been rough. I only get about 200 a charge."
Arthur leaned forward, his voice now brimming with all the enthusiasm of a person who knows a secret too good to keep. "Bro, I got you. Don't go to the manufacturer, man. I know a shop that could boost your range by 100 miles for half the cost of a manufacturer upgrade."
"Seriously?" The guard leaned closer, now fully engrossed. "That'd be amazing."
Eve looked between the two, her jaw slack. This… is happening?
There was a pause, a beat of confusion, before the guard—Charlie, as Arthur would soon learn—gestured toward an open space behind the gate. "Ma'am, if you could pull through the gate and stop on the side, please?" He glanced at Arthur, then back to Eve. "Your boyfriend's a damn lifesaver."
Eve stared at him, her expression frozen in a mix of confusion, disbelief, and frustration. She didn't know whether to laugh, yell, or just drive off. All she could do was dumbly nod, her brain too scrambled by the chaotic turn of events to process anything.
Arthur, oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions happening next to him, quickly picked up the conversation again. "Hey, bro, what's your name?
"Charlie," the guard replied, his voice warm now, as if the situation had somehow shifted from professional to personal began scribbling his number onto a slip of paper. "Hit me up."
Arthur grinned, as he looked over at Eve, her face buried in her hands, clearly having reached her breaking point. "You know where we can park? I'm worried all the cadet spots are taken by now, it's kinda late," he asked Charlie.
Eve, still in utter disbelief at the unfolding bromance, sat silently as her car idled. All she could do was mutter under her breath, "This is... unbelievable how did that work. He didn't even check my ID."
Fifteen minutes later, the scene would've been comically mundane, if not for the still-churning chaos inside Eve's head. They were parked in the custodial lot just outside the cadet area, and Arthur—sitting half-sprawled in the front seat—was completely absorbed in texting Charlie, happily typing out step-by-step instructions on how to tune his X450. The sheer excitement radiating off him was palpable, like a kid with a new toy. Meanwhile, Eve—who had long since forgotten their mission—sat in stunned silence, staring at him, unable to look away. Her mind raced, oscillating between disbelief and a strange pang of admiration.
"Arthur is pretty hot when he's like this… damn, look at those eyes. That smile. I don't even know if I should be jealous of Charlie right now... or worried," she thought, caught in an unexpected tangle of emotions.
"Huh? Eve, did you say something?" Arthur's voice jerked her out of her thoughts as he looked up from his phone, a sheepish grin plastered across his face. "My bad, I was just texting Charlie."
Eve snapped back into focus, her face flushing as she scrambled for words. "Uh, nothing. Just... ready to find Bolts," she stammered, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed inwardly. "Fuck, did I just say that out loud?!"
Arthur's gaze softened as he processed the slip-up. "Oh, shit. My bad! I also just realized Charlie let us in without checking your ID. Is that... normal?"
Eve turned to Arthur, her voice dripping with the obvious, yet still tinged with confusion. "No. No, it's not normal."
Arthur blinked, the realization clearly hitting him in waves. "Really? Damn, Charlie really is a great dude. Ooo, I should tell him about the proton compressor too..." His voice trailed off as he enthusiastically typed out another message to Charlie.
Eve's eyes narrowed, and she muttered under her breath, "Okay, that's enough, Prince Charming." With surprising strength, she yanked open the passenger door, grabbed Arthur by the ear, and pulled him out of the car. "There are PT uniforms in the trunk. Grab one and change so we can head to Bolts' room, dummy."
Arthur blinked, staring around at the sprawling campus. "You want me to change out here?" he asked, clearly perplexed by the wide-open space surrounding them.
Eve rolled her eyes, her patience worn thin. "No, on the roof. Now hurry up, or else," she threatened.
Arthur chuckled, completely unbothered by her demands, and grabbed the uniforms from the trunk. He climbed into the backseat to change, still laughing as Eve stood outside, arms crossed.
Five minutes later, they were walking through the cadet area. The campus stretched before them like something out of a dream, a row of towering barracks surrounding a grassy plain. In the center, a granite statue loomed, arms outstretched toward the moon, as if beckoning them forward. Arthur paused for a moment, awe flashing across his face as he took in the scene.
Eve, her face a mix of apprehension and determination, grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. "C'mon," she murmured, guiding him toward the building on the right. As they walked, Arthur leaned in close, whispering into her ear, "I don't know how to feel about this place…"
Eve's voice came soft, almost reluctant. "Me either. And I went here for, like, two years."
They reached the door—a dark brown one with a bold sign reading "Rudolph Ferris aka Casanova." Arthur shot Eve a questioning look, but she simply shrugged, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes before knocking.
From the other side came muffled music and loud cursing before the door swung open, revealing an unexpected sight. A short, stocky guy with messy blonde curls and a permanent surfer's tan stood in the doorway, clad only in black and yellow striped boxer briefs, a white toothbrush hanging from his mouth.
"Aye, calm down," he said around the toothbrush, raising his hands defensively. "I told you I'd turn the music down… Oh shit, it's just you, Eve. Whew, I thought it was my damn neighbors again. Come on in." He stepped back, motioning for them to enter, his voice carrying an odd, almost distracted rhythm.
Arthur blinked in confusion, but Eve barely seemed fazed. As they stepped inside, they were immediately hit by the strong scent of ozone, mingling with the distinctly chaotic energy of the room. Electronics—everything from ancient pre-detonation video game consoles to modern robot floor cleaners and video drones zipping through the air—littered the space in an overwhelming array.
Arthur began looking around for a safe place to sit. There wasn't one. Bolts grabbed a stack of wires from a chair and dumped them onto the floor.
"There. All yours," he said cheerfully.
Arthur sat down gingerly, feeling like he was trespassing in a mad scientist's lair. Eve, meanwhile, was already rummaging through Bolts' mini-fridge.
"I wasn't expecting guests!" Bolts shouts, his tone upbeat. "What's up, y'all? I guess this is the famous Arty. Ooo, do you have a gift too? What is it?"
Suddenly, he paused, spinning on his heels to focus entirely on Arthur. "Wait... you smoke, Arty?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with sudden curiosity.
Arthur sat there in complete silence, caught completely off guard. But Eve, who had known Bolts for far too long to be fazed, jumped in quickly. "Bolts! Bolts, hey! Focus, man. I need to ask if we can crash here for a couple of days. And Arthur doesn't smoke!" she huffed, clearly exasperated.
Bolts eyed Arthur, then shot him a wink so fast it almost seemed like a glitch in time. "Yeah, of course! You just gotta pay rent and buy me food. Too easy, right?"
Arthur glanced at Eve, a "is this guy for real?" look flashing across his face. She merely mouthed back, "Just roll with it. This is how he is."
"Okay, y'all," Bolts continued, waving a hand as he navigated the room with practiced ease. "The shower is down the hallway, but there's only one bed, so I hope you don't mind spooning. Also, Eve—take off the makeup, geez. You're not impressing anyone, not even Romeo here. You just look like one of those stack-up China dolls. You know, the ones that are different sizes and fit inside each other."
Before he could finish, Eve leapt across the room like a lioness pouncing on her prey. Her hands were wrapped around Bolts' throat in an instant, slamming his head into the floor as sparks flashed across his body.
"It's to disguise myself!" she snarled, furious. "I don't need makeup to impress ANYONE."
Arthur, still in stitches from the absurdity, wiped away tears of laughter as he walked over and yanked Eve off Bolts with surprising ease. "Hey, Bolts, why are there sparks all over you?" he asked, now genuinely curious.
Bolts glanced down at himself and shrugged. "Oh, didn't realize it was one of those days. My bad."
"My powers!" Bolts said, his eyes lighting up with unhinged excitement. "My nervous system over-produces electricity. I can use it to augment my body and, well, emit electricity from myself. Problem is, it varies. Sometimes I'm dry, sometimes I'm juiced up. But that's how I work!"
Arthur blinked, still processing the flood of information. "What's your gift, bro?" Bolts asked with a mischievous grin.
Eve, squeezing Arthur's hand reassuringly, cut in before Arthur could speak. "Arty hasn't unlocked his gift yet. That's why we're heading to Colonel Green. He's the one who can help us figure it out."
As they stood there, the moonlight filtering through the window and bathing the expansive campus outside in an eerie glow, the weight of what lay ahead pressed down on them. But for now, they had Bolts—and his sparks—to keep them distracted.
Chapter 5
The night stretched on in Bolts' chaotic dorm room, where the mix of buzzing electronics and scattered clutter seemed to mirror the whirlwind of thoughts in Arthur's mind. He lay on his back on the makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to quiet the noise in his head.
This wasn't how his life was supposed to go. One moment, he was working a steady job, keeping his family safe from the mundane struggles of their small, quiet life. The next, he was entangled in a plan to stop a terrorist plot, sneaking into a government facility, and surrounded by people with abilities he could barely comprehend. It was all too much, too fast.
Unable to shake the restlessness that gnawed at him, Arthur decided to slip away into the hallway, He threw off the thin blanket and slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Eve. She was curled up, her breathing steady and peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos in Arthur's mind. He stood for a moment, gazing down at her, then turned and crept to the door, slipping into the hallway without a sound.
The air in the hall felt cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room he had just left. He walked aimlessly, his footsteps echoing in the silence, hoping that the stillness of the night might help him clear his mind. He needed space. He needed air. He needed to think.
His thoughts swirled, uncertain, until something else caught his attention—a soft rustling sound from further down the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, his body tensing. He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake at this hour. Then he saw her.
A woman, standing by a window at the end of the hall. She was tall, her silhouette dark against the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the glass. She had a presence about her—something unnerving, like the air itself shifted around her. Arthur's first instinct was to move on, to leave her to whatever business she was about, but he could sense the same quiet disquiet in her that he felt within himself.
The woman turned her head slightly, her sharp eyes catching the faintest glint of light as she looked at him. Arthur found himself freezing for just a second, caught in the intensity of her gaze. He couldn't help but notice the way her eyes, dark and unreadable, seemed to glow in the dim light of the hallway. Her features striking—beautiful in a way that was almost dangerous, and her aura seemed to pulse with an unspoken power.
Arthur's heart skipped a beat, but his curiosity pushed him forward. "Late night, huh?" he called out softly, not wanting to startle her, but intrigued by the woman who seemed so out of place in this academy.
The woman's gaze flicked to him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, they stood in silence, studying each other.
Arthur swallowed, trying to piece together why she felt so different from everyone else. "I'm Arthur," he said, attempting to break the silence. "You... a student here?"
She tilted her head slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. Her voice, when it came, was low and melodic, yet held a dangerous edge. "Something like that," she replied cryptically, her gaze never leaving his.
Arthur's brow furrowed as he studied her. "Something like that?" He let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to make light of the moment. "You don't really strike me as the student type."
She smirked, pushing herself off the wall and stepping toward him with a fluid grace that made it clear she was accustomed to moving silently, like a shadow. "And you don't strike me as the stalker type. But here we are," she teased, her voice a mix of curiosity and something else, something darker.
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, trying to piece together the mystery of this woman. "So, what's your story?" he asked, his voice soft but insistent. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than what met the eye.
She took a slow breath, her gaze softening for a moment before it hardened again. "Story? You want to hear about my story?" She laughed, but there was no joy in it—only something cold and far away. "I've had no story, Arthur. Only orders. I've been a tool, a weapon. Trained from birth to serve someone else's needs, to follow their commands. My life, my thoughts—they were never my own."
Arthur's heart tightened at her words, his mind racing. "That... sounds rough. I can't even imagine."
She met his eyes then, her own dark gaze intense. "You don't need to imagine," she said, her voice almost bitter. "It is what it is. Life is a game, and I was always on the losing side. No freedom, no choices. Just survival."
Arthur's mind began to churn with sympathy, the weight of her words pressing on him. He thought about his own struggles—growing up in poverty, the responsibility he'd shouldered to protect his family. But even so, he had always felt like he had a choice, even if it was just a small one. He couldn't imagine a life where every moment was dictated by someone else.
"But it doesn't have to be like that," Arthur said quietly, stepping a little closer, as though his words might have some weight to them. "I know life's tough, and sometimes it feels like we don't have control over anything. But... there's still room for happiness. You just have to let yourself find it."
Her expression faltered for a brief moment, and Arthur caught the glimpse of something vulnerable—something buried deep inside her that she didn't show anyone. But she quickly masked it, her smirk returning. "Happiness," she repeated, as if tasting the word. "I don't remember the last time I had a moment to be happy. It's been a long time since I've allowed myself to even think about it."
Arthur felt a flicker of hope rise in his chest. "Maybe it's not too late," he said gently. "The world isn't all dark. There's light out there, even if it feels hard to find."
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. She was silent for a while, clearly thinking, and then, in a soft voice that was almost a whisper, she said, "Maybe. Maybe you're right."
Arthur felt the air between them shift, but before he could respond, she straightened up, stepping back as a sly grin spread across her face. "But you don't need to worry about that, handsome," she teased, her voice now playful, her eyes twinkling with a dangerous sort of flirtation. "You've got your own demons to deal with based on the company you keep."
Arthur, caught off guard, blinked at her, his face flushing slightly. "What do you mean?" he stammered, unsure how to process her sudden shift in tone.
Grace took a slow step toward him, her gaze lingering on him with a look that made his heart race. "Oh, I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the future and next time call me Grace, Arthur. You're a good person. But trust me, good people are always the ones who get caught up in the chaos. And you're going to need someone watching your back."
Arthur stood there, his heart still pounding, his mind trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that had just swept through him. Grace's words, her teasing smile, and the aura of danger she exuded left him utterly speechless. As she turned to walk away, he couldn't help but notice the way her movements were fluid, graceful, almost predatory, like a cat silently stalking its prey.
His eyes instinctively followed her, his gaze drawn to the sway of her hips, the curves of her body that seemed to move effortlessly with each step. He cursed himself for it, feeling his face heat up as he tried to avert his eyes. But it was hard—impossible, really—not to notice. She had this magnetic presence, something so alluring that it pulled him in without him even realizing it.
When she reached the corner, she paused, her back still to him. For just a moment, Arthur considered looking again, letting his gaze linger for just a few more seconds. But he quickly pushed the thought away, feeling embarrassed by his reaction. He forced himself to look at the floor instead, trying to regain some semblance of control over his thoughts.
But then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, Grace disappeared into the shadows, her footsteps echoing softly in the hallway before they faded into silence.
Arthur had no idea what had just happened between them, but he couldn't deny the strange connection he felt. Despite her teasing words and the way, she kept herself so guarded, there was something undeniably magnetic about her. And he couldn't help but wonder, with a deep sigh, when he'd see her again.
Arthur stood frozen, unsure of how to respond, his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. Before he could say anything, she turned, her expression unreadable once more. "Goodnight, Arthur. Don't let the world drag you down."
And with that, she disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, leaving Arthur standing there, his heart still racing, and his mind swirling with questions. He had no idea what had just happened—but something told him this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.
Chapter 6
The sound of a door slamming shut jolted Arthur awake. His eyes snapped open, the sharp pain in his head a reminder of the tumultuous night he'd just been through. He groggily sat up in Bolts' room, rubbing his temples.
He glanced over to the other bed. Eve was still sleeping, the covers pulled up over her, a peaceful look on her face. He couldn't help but smile slightly at how different she looked when she wasn't scheming or cursing up a storm.
But something was off when he noticed her phone resting on the bedside table, untouched, still lying next to a half-open backpack. Bolts, however, was nowhere to be seen. No loud music blaring from the walls, no robots zipping through the room.
"Shit, where'd he go?" Arthur muttered, swinging his legs off the bed, the cold floor biting at his feet.
Eve stirred, groaning as she stretched. Her eyes opened, narrowing slightly as the remnants of sleep slowly drifted away.."
She groaned, stretching in a way that made him briefly forget what he was about to say. But then she cracked open an eye, her face still half-covered by her wild curls. "Bolts probably went to class," she said, still half asleep. "This is what he does. He disappears for hours, only to reappear with some random invention or a new piece of tech he's stolen from God knows where
Arthur stood, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "And where does that leave us?"
Eve lazily propped herself up, watching him with an expression that was both teasing and dismissive. "Well, it leaves us with a mission, genius." She shot him a sideways glance, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "What happened last night? You seemed... distracted. You kept talking about a woman. Who was she?"
Arthur hesitated. He couldn't shake the memory of Grace—the dangerous, captivating woman who had crossed his path in the hallway. He remembered the way she'd made him feel: uncertain, intrigued, and strangely alive., but he didn't want to bring it up, not with Eve.
But before he could deflect, he noticed Eve's brow furrow in an almost imperceptible way, something in her eyes darkening.
"Hey," she snapped, suddenly sitting up straight. "I asked you a question."
Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his gaze falling to the floor. "It was... just someone I met last night. She was in the hallway when I was stepping out. We talked for a bit."
Eve's eyes immediately narrowed, her lips curling into a tight line. Her posture stiffened, and Arthur couldn't help but notice the sudden tension between them.
"She was tall, with dark hair," he continued, trying to keep the conversation casual.
Eve's expression darkened. "Oh, great.." she muttered, the bite in her voice unmistakable.
Arthur blinked, thrown off by her sudden change in demeanor. "What?"
Sure, she was tough, quick to snap, but there was something different about her now. Something more vulnerable that she refused to admit.
Eve didn't respond right away, but her silence was loud enough. Her jaw clenched, and Arthur could feel the weight of her glare, even though she was keeping her gaze fixed on the floor.
Arthur's mind whirled as he watched her, trying to make sense of what was happening. Why is she acting like this?
Eve's thoughts, however, were elsewhere. A knot of unease had coiled tightly in her chest. Why does it bother me so much? She thought to herself, the question looping in her mind as she fought to keep her expression neutral. I've never been jealous before. I can have any man I want. Hell, I could've had Arthur years ago, if I wanted to. Why does this girl bother me?
She glanced up at Arthur, catching the way his eyes seemed to linger on the memory of Grace, and something flickered in her heart. I've seen the way he looks at me, but it's never been like that. Not like that look he just had for her.
The silence stretched between them, both of them unwilling to voice their feelings. Finally, Eve snapped out of her reverie and stood, and began putting on the discarded Academy uniforms Bolts had left behind. "Come on, we don't have time for whatever this is. We're going to Colonel Green's office, remember?"
Arthur watched in a daze as she pulled on the Academy uniform, the tight-fitting gear emphasizing her toned frame. For a moment, he couldn't tear his eyes away, the sight of her so effortlessly powerful making his chest tighten. She always had this effect on him, this combination of strength and beauty that was impossible to ignore.
But didn't have much time to waste, Arthur had to focus the clock was ticking.
As they walked through the hallways of the Academy, they couldn't help but notice the strange atmosphere that had settled over the campus. Posters adorned the walls, plastered with Eve's face. "Wanted," they read. "For breaking Academy rules and going AWOL."
Arthur's stomach twisted as he read the words. Wanted?
Eve noticed his unease and let out a bitter laugh. "Once you join the Academy, they own you. They develop your Astron powers and you become a soldier for the U.S. government, should've read the fine print before I followed Avery."
Arthur glanced at her, his mind racing. He felt the weight of her words, the unspoken bitterness in them, but before he could respond, he swore he saw a figure in the distance. A fleeting movement—someone, or something—just out of his line of sight.
He blinked, but when he looked again, there was no one there. Only the shadows stretching along the walls of the Academy. No, it couldn't be...
"Eve," he began hesitantly, but he didn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to bring up Grace again, not when things were already so tense. Instead, they continued walking, both trying to ignore the questions swirling in their minds.
They continued on, and soon they reached the imposing building that housed Colonel Green's office. The heavy door loomed ahead, and Arthur's anxiety spiked. They had no idea what they were about to walk into.
Eve reached forward and knocked twice.
The door swung open almost instantly, and what greeted them was nothing like Arthur had expected. The moment the door cracked, gravity seemed to shift. A sudden force tugged at them both, pulling them violently into the room.
"Wha—" Arthur's words were cut off as he was yanked off his feet, his body slammed into the floor in a painful heap. Eve wasn't far behind, crashing into him with a grunt as she landed on top of him.
Arthur groaned in pain, but when he looked up, he saw the figure standing at the desk. Colonel Green. The man was tall, with sharp features that were almost angular—impossibly sharp, in fact. His eyes were a piercing shade of purple, glowing faintly in the dim light of the room.
"Welcome," Colonel Green's voice was like a calm breeze—impossibly smooth but laced with a power that sent a chill through Arthur's spine. "I've been expecting you, Eve."
"Motherfucker!" Eve muttered to herself as she stood and glaring daggers at the Colonel, ignoring the pain of the fall, her usual fiery attitude flaring. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"Welcome," Colonel Green said, his voice low, almost amused. "I trust you're here for about Avery."
Arthur could see Eve's fists clenched at her sides, her body vibrating with barely contained anger. But for some reason, it was that fire in her eyes that captivated him, more than anything else.
From across the room, Colonel Green's piercing purple eyes locked onto them, his calm gaze unwavering. Arthur, still disoriented from the sudden jolt, tried to get to his feet, but his legs felt weak, his head spinning.
Eve, however, was having none of it, as paced back and forth agitated in Colonel Green's office, her boots thudding against the polished floor. Her fiery orange eyes were alight with frustration as she glared at the man behind the desk.
"That gravitational stunt? Completely unnecessary," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Why the hell would you—"
Arthur, dazed and confused, couldn't help but watch Eve as she snapped at Colonel Green, her fiery temper igniting the tension in the room.
Arthur found himself lost in her fury, staring at her fiery orange eyes, the curve of her lips as they twisted into an indignant snarl.
Her temper, her beauty, her unwavering strength—she was everything he had ever wanted, and somehow, even though she pushed him away time and again, he couldn't help but want her more.
For a fleeting moment, he forgot the danger they were in, the weight of their mission, and everything that had brought them here.
But then, a memory of Grace flashed in his mind—her cold, dangerous eyes, the way her voice had sent a shiver down his spine. Grace had been nothing like Eve—cold, calculating, dangerous. But there was something about her, something Arthur couldn't quite grasp, that made her just as intriguing.
He felt a sigh escape him. Why can't my romantic interests just be normal?
The chaos in Colonel Green's office seemed to fade into the background as Arthur tried to process his own feelings and focus on the mission at hand.
Chapter 7 Flashback
Two Years Prior.
The classroom buzzed with idle chatter, the hum of students settling into their seats, adjusting their uniforms, and waiting for Colonel Green to begin the lesson. Eve sat at the back, arms crossed, her mind wandering. She had long since mastered the art of tuning out the mundane classroom noise, preferring to think about the deeper questions swirling in her head. But today, something about the atmosphere in the room felt different—an undercurrent of tension she couldn't quite place.
As Colonel Green paced in front of the blackboard, his movements precise and deliberate,
Astrons. The system of power all humans unknowingly fell into. There were twelve Zodiac-based powers, each governed by an ancient "contract" with the stars themselves—the "Contract of the Covenant." Each sign from the zodiac held sway over a unique power, one that shaped the wielder's identity, personality, and even their fate.
The signs were more than just constellations in the night sky. They were an immutable force, an eternal contract binding humans to the celestial bodies above. That contract could not be broken.
Eve sighed as Colonel Green's voice cut through the haze of her thoughts.
Green began, his voice ringing with authority, drawing the attention of the class. "Each of you, as new cadets, are still little guppies swimming in the ocean of potential. But let me remind you: the power you're about to harness isn't just some flashy ability—it's part of something much larger than you."
Eve closed her eyes for a moment, replaying his words in her mind. She'd heard them a hundred times before, but they still carried weight. Every day, the students of the Academy were conditioned to understand just how profound the Covenant was. And how much power was hidden within them.
Each cadet at the Academy, and those with the privilege of knowing the truth about the Covenant, carried within them one of the twelve astrological powers. It wasn't random. The day a person was born determined which Astron they would inherit. It wasn't just a quirk or talent—it was a destiny.
Eve's powers on the surface were simple the ability to absorb, store, infuse, and emit heat in all its forms.
However, they were more special than that, her gifts were derived not from one Zodiac guardian like most, but from all. Aries - Emotions, Taurus -Accumulation, Gemini - Observation, Cancer – Decay, Leo – Domination, Virgo – Stability, Libra - Rules, Scorpio - Manipulation, Sagittarius - Chaos, Capricorn - Creation, Aquarius - Flow, and Pisces - Growth… the Singularity.
A one-in-a-million offering that allows access to all 12 blessings, but with this great power extraordinary discipline is required to balance them. As these blessings can conflict with one another and harm the user, but their potential for raw power surpasses others, but only if they learn to harmonize every sign within them.
Her brother was similarly blessed, however—his manifested differently—cold manipulation. As cold as Eve was hot, her brother could remove heat from any object or person, transforming it into raw cold. He could freeze anything at a molecular level, his power working in direct opposition to Eve's. The yin to her yang.
At first, she had thought her brother's abilities were simply the flip side of her own, but over time, she realized how much they mirrored each other. They were two sides of the same coin—two forces that could either coexist or tear each other apart.
Eve didn't want to think about her brother. Not today. Not now.
"Now," Colonel Green continued, drawing the second symbol on the board—a chaotic swirl of lightning bolts—"this represents the Astron of Sagittarius. They are ruled by chaos—unpredictability. Every single Sag power shares one trait: unpredictability. That's why their abilities are so difficult to master."
Eve leaned forward slightly, trying to focus again. She hated these lessons, but they were important. The Academy had made it clear that understanding your power meant more than just controlling it. You had to understand its place in the world, how it fit into the grand design of the universe. The Zodiac wasn't just something you controlled—it was something you had to live with.
"The Contract of the Covenant," Colonel Green continued, his voice suddenly serious. "All of you signed it, even if you didn't know it. When you unlocked your power, you sealed your fate. You're all part of the Covenant now. It binds you to these powers, and it binds these powers to you."
Eve thought about this as the Colonel moved to the next circle on the board, an image of a gavel.
"This symbol represents the Astron of Libra," Colonel Green said, pointing at the image. "The Power of Rules. Some of you may know this, but this power revolves around embedding rules on reality itself forcing it to bend to the users will.
Eve leaned forward; her pen poised over her notebook. The Power of Rules. She'd read about it in the Academy's archives, but the descriptions had been vague—intentionally so, she suspected. Now, hearing it from someone who had mastered the blessing, she hoped to finally understand what it truly meant.
"Some of you may know this already," he continued, "but for those who don't: the Libra blessing revolves around embedding rules into reality itself, forcing it to bend to the user's will."
Eve's heart skipped a beat. Embedding rules into reality? Forcing it to bend? It sounded impossible. Dangerous. She glanced around the room and saw a mix of awe and apprehension on her classmates' faces.
Colonel Green paced the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "When I say rules, I don't mean laws passed by governments or the guidelines you follow in this Academy. No. I mean the fundamental rules of existence. Gravity. Time. Energy. Matter."
The weight of his words hung in the air. Eve's mind raced. Gravity? Time? Was it really possible to manipulate something so fundamental? She thought about her own blessing, barely understood and frustratingly elusive.
A hand shot up in the front row.
"Sir, "does that mean you can manipulate anything you want? Like… completely break the rules of physics?"
Eve felt a flicker of relief—at least someone had voiced the question she was too nervous to ask.
Colonel Green turned his attention to Farris, his expression unreadable. "A fair question. The answer is no. The Libra blessing allows you to rewrite specific rules depending on your specific blessing, but every action has consequences. For example, if I were to eliminate gravity entirely in this room, the resulting chaos would be uncontrollable. The power of Libra is not about breaking rules—it's about bending them to your advantage while respecting their inherent balance."
Respecting balance. The phrase stuck with Eve. She scribbled it in her notebook, her thoughts spinning. If balance was so important, then misuse of the blessing could be catastrophic.
Another cadet, Singh, raised her hand. "Colonel, is there a limit to how much a person can bend the rules? Can you… run out of power?"
The Colonel's faint smile sent a ripple of unease through the room. "Excellent question. The short answer is yes. The energy required to alter reality is immense, and it's tied to both your physical stamina and your mental focus. Push too far, and you risk collapsing—or worse, destabilizing the very rule you're trying to control. Mastery of the Libra blessing requires precision and restraint."
Eve shivered. Restraint. It was a word the Academy instructors used often, but hearing it now, paired with the risks of destabilizing reality, gave it an entirely new weight.
Then Colonel Green said the words she'd been waiting for: "Allow me to demonstrate."
Her pulse quickened as he extended his hand toward a cadet in the front row. Eve's breath caught as the cadet's chair lifted off the ground. Slowly at first, then faster, until it hovered ten feet in the air.
The cadet's panicked yelp echoed in the room. "Sir!"
Eve's stomach churned. She gripped the edge of her desk, torn between awe and a growing sense of dread.
"Gravity," Colonel Green said, his voice calm and steady, "is a rule that governs us all. But for me, it is a rule that can be rewritten."
With a flick of his wrist, the chair plummeted toward the ground, stopping inches from the floor. The cadet scrambled out, their face pale as they stumbled back to their seat.
Eve's grip tightened. Her mind was racing, not just with the implications of his power, but with the realization of how small and helpless she felt in comparison.
Colonel Green stepped into the center of the room, raising both arms. The air grew heavy—literally. Eve felt it immediately, an invisible force pressing down on her shoulders. Around her, cadets groaned as their chairs creaked under the strain.
"What—what is this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"This," Colonel Green said, his voice cutting through the oppressive weight, "is the potential of a mastered Libra blessing. Entire armies crushed under their own weight. Missiles rendered useless as their trajectories are warped. Cities leveled without a single shot fired."
A cadet near the back managed to raise a trembling hand. "Sir, have you… have you ever used this in combat?"
The Colonel's face darkened, his voice turning cold. "Yes. And the results were devastating—for everyone involved."
Eve's heart sank. She didn't need him to elaborate; the gravity in his tone said enough.
Finally, she found the courage to raise her own hand. Her voice wavered as she asked, "Colonel Green… do you think anyone can truly master Libra's power without losing themselves?"
The room fell silent, every pair of eyes turning toward her. She felt her cheeks flush, but she held her gaze steady.
The Colonel regarded her for a long moment. "Mastery is not about control, Cadet. It's about harmony. Those who wield Libra's blessing must balance their power with the rules they seek to change. It is not an easy path, but it is the only way to avoid becoming a slave to the very power you seek to master."
Eve's thoughts swirled. Harmony. Balance. She wasn't sure she understood, but she knew one thing: the path to mastery was far more perilous than she'd imagined.
As she gazed around the classroom, around her, the other cadets were enraptured, their eyes glued to the chalkboard Colonel Green was writing on. But her eyes lingered on Carter, a tall, blonde cadet sitting in the front row.
He had that confident, easy posture she'd always admired. His sharp jawline and perfectly tousled blond hair caught the light just so, making him look like he'd stepped out of one of the Academy's recruitment posters. But it wasn't just his looks that drew her—it was the way he carried himself, always calm and in control, even when things got tense. He had the Gemini blessing of reflexive mimicry—a power that allowed him to copy any movement he saw. It was an incredible ability, one that made him nearly unbeatable in a fight.
As if sensing her gaze, Carter turned his head slightly, catching her eyes with his own. For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to narrow, the weight of Colonel Green's lecture fading into the background. His lips quirked in a barely perceptible smile, a silent acknowledgment that said, I see you.
Eve felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest, but it was accompanied by something else—something she couldn't quite name. She forced herself to look away, back down at her notebook where her scribbled notes suddenly seemed incoherent.
She enjoyed being with Carter, didn't she? He was everything she thought she wanted—handsome, confident, and ambitious. But there was a nagging feeling she couldn't shake, a tiny voice in the back of her mind that whispered something's not right.
Her thoughts drifted to their last conversation. They'd been walking through the Academy gardens after curfew, the moonlight catching on the silver pin of his uniform. He'd talked about his plans to rise through the ranks, his vision for the future, how they could both be powerful together. But there was something about the way he'd said it—a cold certainty, an edge of calculation—that had left her unsettled.
"Eve."
Colonel Green's sharp tone yanked her back to the present. Her head snapped up, and she realized he was staring directly at her. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Perhaps you'd like to share your thoughts?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Heat rushed to her face. "I… uh…"
"Sir," Carter's voice cut in smoothly, "I think she's just trying to process the gravity of your lesson."
A ripple of nervous laughter spread through the room, and Eve shot Carter a grateful look. Colonel Green, however, was unimpressed.
"Humor has its place, Cadet. This is not it."
Carter nodded, his expression instantly serious, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes when he glanced at her again. Eve gave him a small, reluctant smile, grateful for the lifeline.
Still, as Colonel Green continued his lecture, Eve found herself sneaking another glance at Carter. His attention was fixed on the Colonel now, his jaw set, his focus unwavering. He looked every bit the model cadet, but that small, nagging voice whispered again: Why does it feel like he's always playing a role?
The thought unsettled her, and she tried to push it aside, redirecting her attention back to Colonel Green. But the feeling lingered, a quiet tension beneath the surface, even as the lecture continued.
Eve stared at the chalkboard. At the circles. At the symbols of power that were not just tied to her life—but to every life at the Academy.
The Covenant wasn't just something they were born into. It was something that was inside them. And someday, Eve knew, she'd master it.
But for now... she had a lot more to learn.