Amara left Wayne Tower and made her way to her room. It was on a compound owned by the Federal Guardian Authority (FGA), a government-owned Revenant Company, and co-financed by all the other companies. It's where rookie Revenants, those who just completed their trials and escaped the Abyss, consolidate their connection to their newly awakened Aspects.
The dormitories were divided into Houses, based on which Company had scouted the Revenants. In order of prestige from lowest to highest (according to the Company Rankings), the Houses are:
FGA House, Angel House, Titan House, Helios House and finally, Wayne House.
Of course, Amara stayed in Wayne House.
But that didn't mean she was awarded the same reverence as her peers. That's because, unlike everyone else, she never got trapped in an Abyssal Zone, nor did she ever face a trial. Thus, she didn't deserve of the title of 'Revenant'. At least, that's what everyone else thought.
Being an outcast was something Amara was always used to. Sometimes it felt like she never belonged to this world. She always felt a sense of longing.
Back in Lorina, her family's small apartment near the coast had always been her refuge—the scent of saltwater mixing with her mother's herb garden on their narrow balcony, her father's tuneless humming as he fixed broken appliances, Malik's constant chatter about the latest games. Here in Haloway's gleaming skyscrapers and sterile training grounds, those memories felt impossibly distant.
It's funny really, being surrounded by more people only isolated her even more.
That's why from time to time, she thought about the man from the subway. Besides saving her from a Reaper, something about him felt weirdly…comforting.
'I never got his name, did I?'
Amara made her way through the compound, her boots crunching against the gravel pathways that connected the various facilities. The morning air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of training exercises and the low hum of energy fields. Even though it was early in the morning, the grounds were already bustling with Revenants carrying out their routines.
The compound itself comprised the living area, where the Houses were, the training areas which were vastly different as they attempted to accommodate as many types of Aspects as possible. That proved difficult, as Aspects were very unpredictable and difficult to pin down.
Prime example: As Amara was trudging through the compound, a massive lightning bolt exploded next to her, effectively blinding and discombobulating her. The ground exploded, sending debris flying all over.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed
Amara found herself on the ground. A few seconds later, a boy around her age with jet-black hair rushed over with a worried look on his face.
"Oh man, I'm so sorry about that."
He extended his hand to Amara. Inscriptions—intricate and ancient—etched themselves across his skin, glowing an eerie blue. The rune-like tattoos pulsed with an inner light, tracing the contours of his skeletal structure, emphasizing each knuckle, tendon, and joint. Amara ignored the outstretched hand and stood up:
"It's fine."
The boy must have just realised who she was because he squinted his eyes at her.
"Amara! It's you right?"
Amara chuckled.
"You just realised that? Is everyone from the Eastern Continent this rude, Jae?"
"Oh, really now. I guess every Indie is as oblivious as you then." Jae shot back, using the slang for those from the Independent Towns like Lorina.
"I could have died from that, you know!"
She playfully punched his shoulder.
Lee Jae-young was one of the few people willing to befriend Amara in this compound. He was a prodigy that was scooped up by Wayne Company almost as soon as he escaped the Abyss. Unlike her, he had undergone a trial, survived an Echo Level 2 Abyssal Zone, and emerged as a Revenant.
His trial was legendary among the rookies—trapped in a pocket dimension of endless flame for years, fighting through different layers of Hell until the Abyss itself deemed him worthy.
And last she checked, his Aspect was fire-based, not lightning. So she couldn't help but be curious.
"So… what was that?"
Jae smirked and stuck out his chest. "Right, you weren't here. I received my Aspect's name."
That explained it. A Revenant's Aspect wasn't always clear-cut. When they first awakened, they had only a vague understanding of the raw power they barely grasped. But as they consolidated their awakening, the whispers that once threatened to consume them also granted them clarity. They spoke the name of their Aspect, unveiling its true nature.
Not everyone could handle it.
The same whispers that guided Revenants also created Marauders. Some people broke under the weight of the unknown, their minds unravelling until they became mindless beasts. But for Revenants, the danger came after awakening. If they couldn't withstand the truth whispered to them—if they lost themselves to the overwhelming tide of knowledge—they would become the worst of the Marauders.
Wraiths.
Awakened Revenants who had fallen into madness. Unlike regular Marauders, they retained some of their former power, twisted into something grotesque. And because they had once been human, they were far more dangerous.
Jae must have noticed Amara's silence, because his grin faded. "What? You look like I just said something creepy."
Amara scoffed, pushing the thought aside. "I was just thinking how much easier it'd be if we got a letter in the mail instead of ancient voices whispering in our heads."
Jae snorted. "Yeah, well, wouldn't be exciting then, would it?"
Amara glanced at the faint blue runes still glowing on his arms. "So, what is it?"
Jae smirked, clearly waiting for her to ask:
"Aether."
She scoffed. "Ooh, dramatic."
"Right? But it makes sense… a little." Jae flexed his fingers, letting stray sparks crackle in the air. "I thought I just had fire, but I guess it was never that simple."
Amara watched the blue energy between his fingertips. She knew how this worked—how an Aspect's true nature revealed itself in time. But hearing him say it still made something in her chest tighten.
A voice in her head whispered to her:
'Why not me?'
The question was familiar, bringing with it a momentary wave of uncertainty. She'd gone through all the training, followed every protocol and spent countless nights meditating to hear what the others had heard. Yet the whispers remained formless.
And Amara couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.
"Guess that means you're officially a big shot now, huh?" she said, offering a genuine smile despite the complicated feelings beneath it.
Jae grinned. "Naturally. But don't worry, I won't leave you behind."
Amara forced a smile. "Yeah… don't get ahead of yourself."
Jae stretched his arms behind his head, rolling his shoulders. "Anyway, I gotta get back before my instructor chews me out for nearly frying someone." He shot her a teasing look. "Try not to get hit by any more lightning bolts, yeah?"
Amara snorted. "I'll do my best."
With a lazy wave, Jae turned and headed toward the training grounds, leaving her standing in the courtyard. The energy in the air still crackled faintly from his earlier display. Amara glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers. No sparks, no flickering embers. Nothing.
She exhaled and shook the thought away. No point dwelling on it.
Her room wasn't far, a single space tucked away in Wayne House, its location a quiet reminder of how she didn't quite belong. Revenants who had been through the Abyss carried a certain weight to them, an unspoken bond forged through survival. She had no such bond. To them, she was an outsider playing at being one of them.
When she entered her room, the first thing she noticed was the soft blinking light on her holo-screen. A missed call.
Her chest tightened slightly when she saw the name: Mom.
Amara quickly tapped the screen, initiating a call-back. It didn't take long before the familiar faces of her parents and younger brother filled the display. The sight of them, so far removed from the world she was now entangled in, sent a wave of warmth through her.
"Finally! You remembered we exist!" her mother scolded, though her smiled softened the words.
Amara laughed. "I literally just missed your call."
"That's one too many," her father chimed in, squeezing his wrinkled face to fit the display.
"How's Haloway treating you?"
Amara hesitated for a fraction of a second before forcing an affable grin. "Same as always. Busy, exhausting."
Her younger brother, Malik, squinted at her through the screen. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm fine," she assured him. "Unlike you, I actually have responsibilities."
Malik rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yeah, yeah, keep flexing your cool Revenant status."
Amara's smile faltered slightly. She wanted to tell them. She wanted to share her struggles with her family. That every day, she felt more like a stranger in this place.
Instead, she just chuckled. "Damn right, I'm still cooler than you."
"Oh yeah, well at least I…"
Amara's mother cut in. "Malik! Go outside."
"Ugh…"
Malik shuffled out of focus. "Love you, sis."
"Love you too, boys."
Her mother sighed, brushing some greying curls from her face. The laugh lines around her eyes seemed deeper now, or maybe it was just the quality of the call. "Just make sure you're taking care of yourself, okay? You don't have to be strong all the time."
Amara's throat tightened, but she nodded. "Yeah. I know."
"And if it's too much pressure, you know you can always come home," her father added softly. "Wayne Company doesn't own you."
But they both knew that wasn't entirely true. Wayne had invested too much in studying her unique case—the girl with Aspect potential who never needed an Abyssal catalyst. There were strings attached to her position that couldn't be severed easily.
"I'm fine, really," Amara insisted. "Tell me about home instead."
The conversation carried on, light-hearted and familiar. They talked about home, about the things she missed—her dad's terrible cooking attempts ("I've mastered spicy noodles now, I swear!"), Malik's obsession with some new virtual reality game that had taken Lorina by storm, the neighbour's dog that somehow got Amara's dog pregnant ("Seven puppies! Your room is now their playpen.").
For a little while, it was all smiles. Except for that last part.
But as the call ended, and the screen went dark, the silence of her room crept back in.
She sat there for a moment, staring at her reflection on the black screen. The Wayne insignia on her training uniform caught the light, a reminder of the path she'd chosen to walk.
Then, with a quiet sigh, she leaned back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint outlines of the constellations she'd mapped onto it with luminescent paint glowed softly in the dimness. Different from Lorina's night sky, but a small piece of home she'd brought with her.
The whispers were always the loudest when she was alone.
And they never spoke her Aspect's name.