"What are you scared about?" Jacques's eyes seemed to come back to life the moment he saw the stairs. He ran to the railing and looked over the cliff.
"Ethan, this is so cool!"
Then he stepped down the stairs, peering over the edge with curiosity, not even caring whether he might fall or not.
Meanwhile, Ethan leaned against the wall, staying as far away from the railing as possible—trying to avoid acknowledging the fact that he was on a cliff, with a deep drop below and a bigallow nest waiting at the bottom.
"Ethan!" Jacques called out.
He was no longer even on the stairs—but standing on the railing!
Ethan rested his head against the wall, trying to calm himself. Relax. It's just stairs. There's no cliff, no height. I'm safe. Ignore that crazy Jacques imagination!
Yeah, that had to be it—Jacques wasn't really there. Just a figment of Ethan's imagination. Maybe because he knew Jacques so well, he could vividly imagine what Jacques would do if he were the one facing these stairs.
Even on the day they hiked Mount Hegs—knowing Ethan's acrophobia—Jacques couldn't resist teasing him, pulling stunts that triggered Ethan's fear. Like hanging from the branch of a tree that stretched four meters over a waterfall, for example. It was enough to make Ethan feel like he was about to die just from looking at it, but Jacques only laughed like it was child's play.
"Get down here already!" Ethan shouted, panicking.
The branch made a third cracking sound, pushing Ethan further into oblivion—but Jacques just looked even more entertained.
Eventually, Jacques dropped from the branch and rejoined him by the riverbank, where they both sat down.
"I get it, you're brave—no need to flex!" Ethan was clearly upset.
"Hey, if the branch snapped, I'd just fall into the water. Not that bad," Jacques said casually, rolling up his pants and taking off his footwear.
To Ethan, falling into the water meant a trip to the ER; to Jacques, it was no different than a water park ride.
"You know I have acrophobia, and that's why hiking is—" Ethan cut himself off. He didn't want to make it sound like he hated this trip or that he was only doing it out of obligation. Of course, he hated the height—especially when they were near cliffs—but sharing this moment with Jacques still made it more precious than all the scary parts.
"Sounds like somebody regrets this trip," Jacques teased, leaning toward Ethan with a playful smirk, like he was daring him to finish his sentence.
"Hiking is what?" he pressed, leaning even closer, fully aware that Ethan's shyness would dissolve his bad mood all on its own.
"Give me space," Ethan said, unable to hide the rush of oxytocin flooding his brain as he pushed Jacques away—though there was no real force behind it.
Jacques was right. As he leaned close to Ethan's ear, Ethan blushed—and just like that, his irritation melted away.
"I like it when you're nagging," Jacques said, kissing his cheek.
Ethan turned to meet his eyes, ready with a comeback, but instead, he simply pushed Jacques's face away. "I'm not your mom, you hear me?"
Still, a quiet thought crept in.
One day, when Jacques would be out there among the stars, chasing thrilling adventures far more dangerous than cliffs, waterfalls, or tree branches… what could Ethan do then?
If Jacques chose to do something even riskier, Ethan wouldn't be able to stop him.
He'd just have to let him go.
Because Jacques was meant to be in places Ethan couldn't follow.
And when that day comes, there will be no one left to look after Ethan—to protect him with their strength or guide him with their smarts. He'll have to learn how to be brave on his own, how to protect himself. So that even without Jacques by his side, he can survive.
That's why the stairs of Hamman Village felt like a test for Ethan—a chance to prove to Jacques that he would be okay without him. That he could face his fears, stand on his own, and survive. He would make it. He will be fine.
***
DREAM
Jared picked up a form, wrote down his data, and under the reason why he want to leave the bunker section, he wrote: "I need to find my mentor who got lost in the woods."
He was soon summoned by the supervisor.
"When did he get lost in the woods?" the man asked.
Jared tried to remember. He wasn't sure. "I think… a few days ago."
"If he's been gone for more than 14 hours, he's probably run out of oxygen. That means he's already dead, and the air probably had turned him into mutants. Forget it." The supervisor tore the form in half and moved on to other paperwork.
"He's alive," Jared insisted.
"No he is not!" The supervisor gets even pettier.
"Even if he didn't survive—I want to find his body, or his mutant version, anything as long as I know what happened to him!"
"Still no. Now get back to your job. You're the electricity guy, right? It's laundry day for you. Go back downstairs," the supervisor barked, waving him off.
But rejection wasn't going to stop him. Jared sneaked a look at the patrol schedule—it was Nobert's turn to go out today.
He found Nobert in the cafeteria with his usual group, playing dominoes and betting food.
Jared caught his eye and signaled that he needed to talk. Nobert ignored him, too focused on the game, cheering when he won.
Jared had enough. He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away.
"Hey, hey! What are you doing?!" Nobert struggled, surprised that Jared was strong enough to do that.
The other men at the table stood up, ready to jump in. "What do you want, kid?"
"I just want to talk to him," Jared said and dragged Nobert away.
The group sat back down, but their eyes stayed sharp on Jared.
"What is it? I'm busy!" Nobert grunted.
"It's your turn to patrol, isn't it?" Jared asked, keeping his voice low. He didn't want anyone else to hear.
"So what if it is?"
"I'll take your shift—" Jared began, but Nobert cut him off. "I'll pretend to be you. We wear full gas masks and suits—they won't know."
Nobert sighed, this boy is determined, there's nothing he could say to tell him otherwise, better let him has his way, besides, it doesn't risk him with anything, right? "Alright. But don't do anything stupid, you hear me? You're doing this under my name. I don't want to get into trouble for helping you."
He dug into his pocket and handed Jared a key.
It was for his locker—inside were his patrol uniform and tools.
"You won't. Don't worry." Jared snatched the key and left.
Just as he was putting on Nobert's gear, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Jared turned—
—and caught a sucker punch to the face.
The blow knocked him out instantly.
As the world went black, he barely heard a voice. His attacker was taking the tools off him, returning them to Nobert's locker.
"You think you can leave?" The voice was familiar. Cold. Protective.
It was The Shadow.
"Don't even think about it. You're dumb, Jared. That's why I have to protect you—tightly—from the danger you keep chasing."
The man lifted Jared over his shoulder and carried him back to his room.
***
The conference chamber in Sigma's office was highly classified. Windows and doors were sealed. The lights remained off. Only static screens glowed faintly in the dark, broken by the low hum of aether conduits lining the black steel floor.
At the center of the room, Sigma stood upright, one gloved hand resting on the control sphere. The air around him shimmered as six holographic panels rose like ancient monoliths. One by one, they flickered to life—projecting the avatars of the Six Pillars of Society.
Each sat in an opulent chamber across the world, connected to this private, encrypted frequency by Sigma's custom satellite uplink. Call it a Zoom meeting. A divine Zoom council.
The first hologram glitched into place—a silhouette of a bald man with a golden background. He watched in amusement, lurking like a shadow.
The second: a purple background behind the silhouette of a man with Elvis hair and a pointy collar. He looked like he didn't want to be there—but had to.
Next came a cyan panel. The silhouette of an elegant woman rested her chin on adorned fingers, her pristine hair curled like an illusion.
"Well, well, well… look who's here again. I hope today doesn't bring us bad news, Sigma," she said smoothly.
Sigma nodded politely. Respectfully. He saved the good news for later.
The green panel followed, a regal silhouette with a sharp gaze. He said nothing—just narrowed his eyes like he was reading Sigma's blood pressure.
Then came the crimson panel: the silhouette of a scarred, muscle-bound man, arms crossed. He looked like a living wall.
"This better not waste our time."
And finally, the last panel: silver. Another bald figure, but older, his long beard visible beneath the shadow.
"Proceed, child," he said.
Sigma bowed slightly. Big fish don't like small talk—it's a waste of time.
"Gentlemen. Lady. Since our last meeting, I've used my own budget to continue what we started. And through determination, resilience, and careful planning, I now bring you the Five Signs of Ascension. Today marks a breakthrough for Earthlings."
A circular hologram spun beside him—five points orbiting an image of Jacques's aether cell, floating in containment like a living crystal.
"One: Project Embryon."
"We've successfully stabilized an isolated Aether cell for seventy-two hours. A world record. No other lab on Earth has kept an Argonarian trait alive for more than thirty minutes."
Zara's brows lifted faintly. She tapped her console, analyzing in silence.
"Two: Project Surge."
A grainy lab video flickered to life—an experimental subject twitching violently before unleashing a burst of kinetic force.
"The first measurable telekinetic output. Crude, but proof Earthling bodies can momentarily channel the Astral—just like Argonarians."
"Looks like we'll be speaking to gods soon, Silver," Lady Cyan teased.
Silver said nothing.
"Three: Project Bridge."
A glowing double helix rotated onscreen—Jacques's vibrant, aether-charged DNA overlapped with Earthling strands, flickering with artificial pulses of blue.
"Dr. Zhicotte's genetic filters now allow us to predict viable human hosts," Sigma explained, voice steady. "No more wasted test subjects."
There was a pause.
"One of our test cases successfully accepted the Aether cell. It lasted over fifteen minutes without cellular rejection—long enough for meaningful interfacing before the cell withered."
Lady Cyan narrowed her eyes. "Fifteen minutes? That's a quantum leap."
Sigma gave a small nod but didn't mention the host now cooling in Sector 7's cryo vault—his body had shut down moments after the aether cell integrated. Multiple organ failure. A reaction similar to bone marrow transplant rejection—but worse.
He couldn't afford to show hesitation. Not with six gods breathing down his neck.
"We are closer than ever to bridging the gap," he said coolly. "Soon, Earthlings won't just borrow Argonarian power. They'll house it. We won't be the only human race without Aether anymore."
The council fell silent. Even Lady Cyan leaned in.
"Four: Project Ember."
The next screen displayed footage of a handheld cannon discharging. The unstable Aether energy melted reinforced steel.
"This is just a concept for now—but we can weaponize it. Raw Aether. One-shot burn devices. Disposable, affordable, and deadly."
Gold clapped once, chuckling. "Now that's marketable!"
The room went quiet. Even Shepherd's grin faded for a moment.
"Impressive," Green murmured. His silhouette shifted slightly, revealing a faint smirk.
Sigma continued. "With the right funding, Earthlings will become the dominant human race in the universe."
He let the image orbit in silence for a beat. The weight of it hung in the air like judgment.
"Fund Phase Two, and I'll deliver Earth's first generation of programmable Argonarian hybrids. Soldiers. Seers. Weapons. Gods."
Purple clapped like he was at a magic show. "Now that's a headline."
Gold grunted. "You'll get your money. But if you waste another penny—"
"I've learned from my mistakes. I'll take this project even more seriously than I did before," Sigma said.
Lady Cyan's panel glowed. She was the first to invest—and it wasn't a small amount.
Seconds later, Silver followed. Then Green. Then Purple.
"I don't think humanity's ready for this. Good luck, everyone—but I'm voting out." Crimson disconnected. His hologram disappeared.
"Sigma," Gold said, his panel now lit with green confirmation, "we expect good news in three months. And you'll get more."
This was the biggest success of Sigma's career.
Now, he could finally begin Project GERTRUDE.