The diagnostics room dimmed as data bled across the surface of the central console in quiet red pulses.
[ECHO INSTABILITY DETECTED — SECTOR V-9, V-4, AND X-2]
[ANCHOR STRESS SIGNATURES — FLUCTUATING]
[PROJECT VEIL – FRAGMENT ACTIVITY: NULL, YET RESONANCE PERSISTENT]
[WARNING: TEMPORAL LOOP PULSE DETECTED IN CLOSED ZONE]
Ava leaned over the display, her brow furrowed, fingers ghosting over the interface as she slowed the playback of the Rift spike. The resonance pulse was faint, but beneath it, a pattern—looping, recursive.
Evelyn stood at her side, arms crossed tightly over her sleek black field jacket, dark hair tied back in a functional tail. Her sharp brown eyes glinted with unease. "It's happening more often."
Ava nodded slowly. Dressed in her standard fitted navy Guide coat, her expression was soft but troubled. "And all of it traces back to the breach during Lucian's fight. That echo wasn't just a corruption entity. It knew how to destabilize the field."
Evelyn's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't speak for a long moment. Then: "We need to start mapping echo behavior anomalies by temporal sync point. If we're dealing with fractures, we need to know which ones are leaking through."
The console pinged again.
[ANCHOR STABILIZER — DRIFT: +0.06%]
They both stared.
Ava's voice was barely a whisper. "Rowan…"
On another panel, a locked schematic blinked open—just for a moment.
A corrupted blueprint marked:
VEIL SEED PROTOCOL: SUBJECT CLASS S
ACCESS: RESTRICTED
STATUS: UNSTABLE / FRAGMENTED / UNKNOWN
Before either could click further, the file sealed again—replacing itself with static.
The morning sun—synthetic and too pale—filtered through the reinforced windows of Rowan and Lucian's quarters. It bathed the quiet space in a soft hush. Lucian stirred first, slow and careful, his bruised ribs protesting every motion. Still, he reached out across the bed, brushing fingertips along Rowan's bare shoulder.
Rowan turned toward the touch, already awake. His pale green eyes were soft, dark brown hair messy and uncombed, but he didn't pull away. He leaned forward to nuzzle into Lucian's palm.
Lucian—shirtless, with pale scars crisscrossing his back—kissed the side of Rowan's neck gently. "Still here?"
Rowan smirked faintly. "Still flickering. But here."
Lucian sat up, wincing slightly. Rowan followed, tracing a line down his spine before they both moved to dress in silence—comfortable, intimate.
Rowan pulled Lucian's black shirt over his arms gently, fingers brushing his skin longer than necessary. Lucian hissed softly when the fabric slid over his bruised side.
"You're supposed to be taking it easy," Rowan murmured.
"I'm fine."
Rowan gave him a flat look and leaned in, pressing a kiss just below the edge of the bruise. "Liar."
Lucian smirked faintly, then reached for Rowan's uniform jacket. He held it open, and Rowan stepped forward into his space, letting Lucian slide the sleeves over his arms.
As Lucian adjusted the collar and smoothed the fabric across Rowan's chest, their eyes met—brief but heated.
"I like you in this," Lucian murmured, fingertips brushing over the fastenings.
Rowan arched a brow, voice low. "You saying I don't look good out of it?"
Lucian chuckled, pressing one last kiss to Rowan's collar before turning away to grab his gloves. "You're trouble, Mercer."
"Only for you."
They stepped into the hallway, now fully dressed and still visibly drawn to each other in subtle ways. Ren was already waiting outside, standing stiff in his too-big field uniform, black chin-length hair mussed and pale steel-gray eyes wide with excitement.
"Am I late?!" he blurted.
Lucian raised a brow. "You're thirty minutes early."
"Good," Ren said with a grin. "Because I'm ready. Like, ultra ready."
Rowan chuckled. "Training wing. Now. Before you implode."
The simulation room buzzed softly, its energy plates humming beneath the floor.
Ren stood in the center of the chamber, bouncing on his toes. Sloane Verrin monitored from a console off to the side, silver-streaked black hair and gray-green eyes steady, his charcoal field coat immaculately fastened.
Rowan, Lucian, Evelyn, and Ava stood behind reinforced glass.
"Alright, Ren," Ava said through the speaker, "Initiate a controlled flare. Partial chrono overlay only."
Ren gave a two-fingered salute and closed his eyes.
The air warped.
Time fractured outward in concentric ripples—brief flashes of past movements bleeding forward, like Ren had already performed the action seconds ago and the present was catching up.
He disappeared, then reappeared twenty feet to the left, three afterimages collapsing inward behind him. Then again—higher, crouched along the wall, then back on the floor with a flash.
Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "He's ghost-phasing between timeline seconds. Unstable, but fast."
Ren threw out a hand—
Chrono Anchor.
The entire simulation froze mid-glitch. Holographic enemies flickered into stasis. The light bent inward. Then, with a pulse of gold, everything resumed. The delay had bought him a full three seconds.
"Combat practical confirmed," Rowan muttered, watching Ren pivot mid-air and knock a training drone back with his heel.
Lucian's gaze followed the sequence, arms folded over his fitted black combat shirt.
"That power will attract attention."
Ava's hand tightened slightly around her tablet. "It already has."
After a few minutes, Ren came jogging out of the chamber, hair damp with sweat and face flushed with adrenaline.
"I love this place," he gasped. "Was I awesome? I was awesome, right?"
Rowan smiled. "You didn't implode."
"That's basically a win."
Lucian smirked. "You've earned your quarters. Use them wisely."
Ren gave a mock bow. "I promise not to destroy time while brushing my teeth."
Post-Evaluation Cooldown
After a quick debrief, the trio made their way out of the chamber together. Ren practically bounced beside Rowan. "Hey, I meant to say earlier—thank you. For pulling me back. I was spinning out back there and then—bam. You just... brought me back."
Rowan looked at him sideways, faint amusement behind the gentleness in his tone. "You scared us half to death. You okay now?"
Ren grinned and gave a thumbs-up. "Chrono head aches a bit. But my heart's fine."
Lucian snorted. "It better be. Or Ava's going to strap a stabilizer to your chest."
Ren mock-shuddered. "Please, no tech-bonded chestwear. I like my fashion weird but not that weird."
The Glitch
Later, Rowan broke away from the others to retrieve a data pad from the main archive chamber.
The corridor outside the data vault shimmered faintly.
He paused, footsteps slowing.
The hallway was empty—but then he saw it.
Himself.
A flicker. A ghost image of himself walking the other direction. Slightly different posture. A bloodstained sleeve.
Rowan froze.
The flicker passed.
His wrist console buzzed.
[RESONANCE MIRROR DETECTED – CLASS: ANCHOR]
He stood there for a long time, breath shallow.
Then he walked forward, slower, eyes scanning the space like it might split again.
Cafeteria, Later That Evening
The cafeteria buzzed with the low murmur of voices and the clatter of trays. The team had gathered, scattered across two long tables.
Dain leaned across to Vespera, waving a spoon as he spoke animatedly. "Okay, but you can't seriously tell me you believe in inter-dimensional baking competitions."
Vespera sipped her tea calmly. "Only when the cake wins."
Ari and Quinn arrived next, both still in partial tactical gear. Ari flopped beside Dain, tossing a protein bar at him. "For your mouth. So it has something useful to do."
Quinn sat beside her, quiet smile in place. He gave a small wave to Rowan and Lucian as they entered.
Rowan took the seat nearest to Quinn while Lucian helped himself to a mug of synth-brew.
Alexander, already seated and still stiff with bruises, raised an eyebrow as Lucian sat. "Didn't think you'd be up."
Lucian shrugged. "Didn't think you'd let yourself rest."
Elias Vane entered next, quiet as ever. He nodded once in greeting before settling at the edge of the table, pulling off his gloves. Vespera passed him a cup of herbal tea without speaking.
Sloane sat beside him, posture relaxed but alert. His gray-green eyes flicked between teammates, absorbing the energy without comment. "Stillness has its place," he murmured, mostly to himself.
Kira arrived a moment later, glancing briefly at Rowan and Lucian. Her expression unreadable, but her nod respectful.
Mira entered in silence, sniper gear slung over her shoulder, Haru trailing behind her. She took a seat, barely glancing at anyone. Haru offered a small bow before sitting beside her.
Dain grinned. "Ah, the whole gang. We should start a musical."
Alexander deadpanned, "You'd forget the lyrics."
"I'd improvise! With explosions."
"You're not allowed near explosives," Ari muttered.
"Anymore," Quinn added softly.
Laughter bubbled up across the table. Even Mira cracked the barest hint of a smirk.
For a moment, the air felt normal.
And somewhere deep in the Zarek systems, unseen by all, a line of corrupted code flickered into being.
YOU ALWAYS DIE BEFORE I REACH YOU