Jessa stood in the Training bay, her boots planted firm on the cold steel floor, the air thick with the tang of ozone and the hum of aetheric conduits weaving through the walls like veins in a dying beast. Her pistol trembled slightly in her grip, the frost-burn on her neck pulsing with a dull ache that flared every time she moved, a cruel reminder of the Unseen Watcher's touch that lingered like a ghost in her bones. She aimed at a target—a flickering shadow shaped like a distorted human silhouette—and fired, the shot ringing sharp, the target dropping with a metallic clatter that echoed through the cavernous space.
Marcus watched from the sidelines, his scarred arms crossed, his face a storm of hard lines under the flickering aetheric lamps, their light casting jagged shadows that danced like specters across the bay. "You're getting better, Jessa, but you're still holding back—why?" he asked, his voice rough but carrying a weight that made her flinch, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, boots thudding heavy on the floor. She lowered her pistol, sweat beading on her brow, and met his gaze, her voice shaky but firm, "I keep hearing it, Marcus—the whisper, it's always there, telling me to watch, and I can't shake it no matter how hard I try."
He tilted his head, the scars on his cheek catching the light, and his tone softened just a fraction, though it still carried the edge of a man who'd seen too much. "That's the Echo-Class doing its work, Initiate—it burrows into your head, plants seeds of doubt, makes you think it's still here even when it's locked away." He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her, and added, "You've got to fight it on your terms—don't let it control you, or it'll break you before the next anomaly even gets a chance."
Jessa swallowed hard, her throat tight, the whisper—watch… me…—slithering through her mind again, but she clenched her jaw and nodded, forcing the fear down like a bitter pill. "How do I do that?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly, her hands tightening around the pistol as she looked to him for something solid to hold onto. Marcus exhaled, a sharp sound, and said, "You train harder, you focus sharper—every shot, every move, you make it yours, not its—now aim again, and don't miss this time."
She lifted her pistol, her arms steadier now, and fired at the next target, the shot slicing clean through its center, the metal screeching as it fell, a small victory that made the whisper retreat just a step. Her chest heaved, breath fogging in the cold air, and she glanced at Marcus, a flicker of pride in his nod as he muttered, "That's more like it—keep that fire, Jessa, you'll need it where we're going next." She frowned, wiping sweat from her brow, and asked, "Where are we going—what's the next mission?"
Marcus turned, his back to her as he walked toward the bay's control panel, his voice low and grim as he tapped a screen to pull up a map glowing with red markers. "Site-12, Theta-3—a town called Haven's End, abandoned for years, but something's stirring there, something we can't ignore." He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes hard, and added, "Echo-Class again, but this one's different—it's messing with reality itself, bending light, sound, making people vanish into thin air."
Jessa's stomach twisted, her frost-burn flaring as if it sensed the danger, and she stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper, "Vanishing—how do we fight something that can do that?" Marcus didn't look at her, his fingers tracing the map's red glow, and he replied, "We don't know yet—that's why we're going in blind, Initiate, to see what we're dealing with, contain it if we can." He turned fully now, his face set like stone, "Gear up, we leave at 0800—don't let that whisper slow you down, you hear me?"
She nodded, the whisper hissing faintly in her ears, but she pushed it back, focusing on the weight of her pistol, the rhythm of her breathing, the resolve hardening in her chest like iron. Jessa holstered her weapon, her hands steady now, and followed Marcus out of the bay, the hum of the aetheric lamps fading behind her, replaced by the steady beat of her own determination. The mission loomed ahead, a shadow darker than the Watcher, but she'd face it—she had to.
In the armory, Jessa strapped on her gear, the aetheric pistol clicking into its holster, the containment orb gleaming on her belt like a tiny star trapped in glass. The room was a maze of steel shelves, each lined with tools of the Foundation's trade—weapons, stabilizers, and glowing orbs that pulsed with a faint, eerie light. She adjusted her scarf, the bandage beneath it rubbing against her frost-burn, and caught her reflection in a polished shield, her face pale, eyes haunted but sharp.
Marcus stood at the armory's entrance, checking his own gear, his movements precise, a ritual honed by years of facing horrors most couldn't imagine."You ever been to Theta-3, Jessa?" he asked, not looking up, his voice casual but carrying an undercurrent of tension that made her pause. She shook her head, her voice steady as she replied, "No, never—what's it like, what should I expect out there?"
He glanced at her, his scars stark in the armory's harsh light, and said, "Haven's End is a ghost town, abandoned after a fracture years back—streets empty, houses rotting, air so thick with aether you can taste it." He slung a rifle over his shoulder, his tone darkening, "But this anomaly—it's bending reality, making things… unlogical, unpredictable, like light folding in on itself, sounds coming from nowhere." Jessa's heart skipped, but she nodded, gripping her orb tighter, ready to face whatever waited.
The transport hummed low as it carried them toward Theta-3, its hull vibrating with the steady pulse of aetheric engines, the windows dark with the void of early dawn. Jessa sat strapped into her seat, her gear heavy against her chest, the frost-burn a constant ache that kept her grounded, a reminder of what she'd survived. Marcus sat across from her, his face unreadable, but his eyes flicked to her, and he said, "When we land, you stay close, Initiate—this thing's not like the Watcher, it's faster, trickier."
She met his gaze, her voice firm despite the fear coiling in her gut, "I'll stay close, Marcus—I'm not letting it get me, not after what I've already been through." He nodded, a rare flicker of respect in his eyes, and added, "Good—that's the spirit we need, because whatever's in Haven's End, it's not playing by our rules." The transport shuddered as it descended, the darkness outside giving way to the faint outline of a town swallowed by shadows, and Jessa braced herself for what lay ahead.