Lance stared down at his third helping of beef stew, watching steam curl up from chunks of tender meat and potatoes swimming in rich brown gravy. The mess hall was as peaceful as a remote cabin in winter, without the drill sergeants barking orders or recruits scrambling to maintain perfect posture while shoveling down breakfast. At least the USEC had honored half of the federal holiday, giving them the afternoon off to recover from what they’d dubbed “Day Zero screening.” Tomorrow the real training would begin.

  The golden crust crackled between his fingers as he tore off a piece of round, flour-dusted bread and dragged it through the thick sauce. The Enhanced Development Program—or “EDP” as the brass called it—would officially start at 0400 tomorrow. Eighteen months of psychological warfare, physical torture, and military indoctrination designed to break arma wielders down to their core and rebuild them into something lethal. His pulse quickened with excitement. Finally, a chance to push his abilities past their limits, to become more than just another wielder with party tricks.

  But today, he could eat as much as he wanted without someone timing his chews. Diego and Tesia weren’t so lucky. Their “statistically anomalous performance metrics” during the baseline tests had earned them an afternoon of additional testing and endless questionnaires. Lance almost felt bad for them, but Tesia’s smirk as she’d blown past them on that final stretch still burned. Almost as much as watching Diego’s face when she’d done it. He smiled to himself, dunking another piece of bread into the hearty stew. His friend needed the occasional reminder that he wasn’t the only one getting stronger.

  The warm bowl cradled in his hands felt like a reward after the morning’s rigorous workout. Tender onions melted on his tongue while carrots added hints of sweetness to the savory broth. After three days of pushing his body to its limits, Lance let himself relax—just a little. Just enough to appreciate good food and quiet moments before stepping into the challenge he’d been waiting for. The program might not fix everything wrong in his life, but at least it gave him something to focus on besides his thoughts.

  “I can’t believe they have fresh beef,” Thad said. “My town hasn’t seen any since the outbreak started.”

  Lance chewed his last bite of stew, stared at his empty bowl for a moment, then looked up. “My local grocery’s still closed, but most restaurants that reopened seem fine.”

  “That’s because major cities got priority for supply chain restoration,” Adelaide said. “Military bases too. The Corps wasn’t about to start an enhanced training program without securing resources first.”

  “Makes sense. Can’t exactly train super soldiers on MREs,” Sasha said.

  Electric white threaded through Thad’s tattoos, following the rhythm of his speech. “Did you know they prioritized gene therapy for agricultural workers in the first week? 47% of farm laborers got treated before healthcare workers.”

  “Smart move.” Lance pushed his bowl aside. “Food riots would’ve been worse than the pandemic.”

  “How’s your family handling everything?” Adelaide asked.

  “Just me and my mom. She got vaccinated early—same time I did.” Lance swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing for a second. He thought of Carl, feeling a stab of guilt for scaring him. The quiet, hardworking man had been steady for his kids, despite carrying his own grief. Lance almost smiled, thinking how horrified Carl would be at the idea of joining the USEC. “Actually grabbed my dose myself. Didn’t bother to wait for permission—” As soon as the words left his mouth, Lance tensed.

  Shit. Shouldn’t have admitted that.

  “You stole a vaccine?” Sasha’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I had an appointment. Just... jumped the line a bit.”

  “I have a brother too,” Lance added after a pause. “We don’t talk.”

  “My niece was born last week,” Thad said. “Completely immune to NARS. Didn’t need treatment or anything.”

  “Could she have gotten protection indirectly?” Lance asked. “If her mother was treated during pregnancy?”

  “Scientists are still working on that one,” Adelaide said. “Along with about a thousand other questions about how this all works.”

  “Like why some of us got powers and others didn’t,” Sasha said. “Or why identical treatments have different effects.”

  “Or why my tattoos started glowing,” Thad said. “That was a fun conversation with my artist.”

  “So what brings a Marine Major to USEC?” Lance asked.

  Adelaide’s posture remained perfect. “Same as everyone else. NARS changed the game. Traditional combat doctrine doesn’t work anymore.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Sasha said. “I was doing my residency when it hit. Went full OCD with tracking everything—symptoms, progression, how cells were breaking down. Then one day I touched a patient and could, no joke, feel their heartbeat inside my head.”

  “Bet that came in handy.”

  “Until I accidentally stopped someone’s heart.” Sasha’s face remained neutral. “That’s when I knew I needed proper training.”

  Damn. Lance hadn’t seen that coming. With her military buzz cut and fighter’s build, he’d pegged her as a combat specialist. Could Dark Resonance disrupt an attack like that?

  She shrugged. “He lived, by the way. Guess those three years of med school weren’t completely useless.”

  “At least you had a medical background,” Thad said. “Try keeping your job when you keep correcting your data science team’s predictive models because you can literally see probability paths they can’t.”

  “At least you still have a job.” Lance leaned forward. “Wait, you can straight-up see probabilities?”

  “More like... potential outcomes overlapping. Gets messy in crowds, though. Too many variables.”

  That explained a lot. While everyone else had stumbled on the ice or scattered during Ronan’s rampage along the Paperclip, Thad had maneuvered between runners like he knew exactly where to step. Lance had chalked it up to catlike reflexes, but seeing probability paths made a lot more sense for a Psion Energy Classification. No wonder he’d finished right after Lance and Diego.

  “That why you keep muttering numbers under your breath?” Sasha asked.

  “Bad habit. Helps me focus.”

  Adelaide watched their exchange with measured interest. “The Corps needs that kind of analytical thinking. Traditional military assessment metrics don’t account for enhanced capabilities.”

  “Tell that to Sergeant Remington and his ruler,” Thad said.

  “It’ll get easier,” Lance smirked.

  “So rulers,” Sasha started. “How do you guys think they’re planning to measure our progress? It’s not like there’s a standardized test for superhuman abilities.”

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  “They’ll figure it out. That’s what Phase One is for.” Adelaide’s tone was casual, but her eyes tracked each of their reactions.

  “Eighteen months is a long time to figure things out,” Lance said.

  “Better than the alternative. Remember those enhanced riots in Seattle?”

  Thad’s ink flickered. “87% chance of similar incidents without proper infrastructure.”

  “And that’s exactly why we need this program,” Adelaide said. “Structure. Control. Clear protocols for enhanced deployment.”

  “Deployment?” Lance’s eyes narrowed a bit.

  “Figure of speech.” Adelaide’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes—hazel that couldn’t decide between blue and amber. “More coffee, anyone?”

  Lance found himself watching that interplay of colors, seeing in them the same determination he fought to hide in his own. He dropped his gaze to his coffee cup. “Light roast for me.”

  “Light roast? Seriously?” Thad laughed. “How do you even taste anything?”

  “You’re one of those people who thinks coffee should taste like charcoal, aren’t you?”

  “Look, I just like my coffee strong enough to wake the dead.”

  Adelaide rose from her chair. “Lance is right, actually. Light roast has more caffeine.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “The longer you roast the beans, the more caffeine burns off,” Lance said. “Plus you can taste the coffee’s natural flavors instead of just... ash.”

  Sasha traced the rim of her mug. “Might have to try that. Ever since the gene therapy, everything tastes like someone upped the volume on my taste buds.”

  “I’ll grab those refills,” Adelaide said, heading for the coffee station.

  Her black hair was tightly pinned in a military bun, showing off her golden brown skin as she walked away. Even off-duty, that officer’s discipline never wavered.

  “Did you guys catch the news yesterday?” Thad asked.

  Lance’s mouth pulled to one side. News. When was the last time he’d bothered checking headlines? He hadn’t looked at the news since Marcus’s gym burned down. No way he’d risk seeing that story. What was it this time? Another wielder who’d screwed up? Still, he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t curious.

  “About the tremors?” Sasha asked. “They’re saying something’s wrong with the geology out west.”

  “Wrong how?” Lance asked.

  “Remember those earthquakes two weeks ago?” Thad’s voice dropped. “Apparently they weren’t earthquakes.”

  “Someone in Oscar Cell swears the Earth split open,” Sasha said.

  “No way.” Lance sat up straighter. “That’s impossible.”

  “After everything we’ve seen?” Thad said. “My probability models can’t even process what’s happening anymore.”

  “But the entire continent? That’s...” Lance ran a hand through his hair.

  “Not the entire continent,” Sasha said. “Just along the hundredth meridian.”

  “There isn’t much verified information yet,” Adelaide said as she returned with four coffee cups on a tray. “The area’s mostly empty since NARS hit.”

  “But the military must know something,” Lance challenged.

  “Emergency response teams are being deployed to assess the situation,” Adelaide said. “What’s left of them, anyway. Most first responders are still dealing with pandemic fallout.”

  “Perfect timing for enhanced training camp,” Thad muttered.

  “Almost too perfect,” Lance said.

  “The timing is what it is.” Adelaide distributed the cups. “Three proper coffees and one cup of ash for Thad.”

  Thad made a face, but before he could respond, the chow hall’s double doors swung open.

  Inside trudged Oscar Cell, their uniforms dark with sweat and streaked with mud from the Paperclip. Carter’s usually gleaming liquid metal skin had dulled to matte gray, while Andrea’s mist powers leaked out in weak wisps around her. Even Vicky looked beaten down, her pink-tipped hair now hanging in damp strands around her face. They moved with the rigid purpose of people fighting not to collapse, shuffling toward the serving line with the single-minded focus Lance recognized from his own unit’s march an hour ago.

  Vicky broke away from her cell and made her way over, a subtle shake in her tray as she held it. “Got room for one more?”

  “Of course.” Lance stood, pulled his chair back for Vicky, grabbed another seat from the next table over, and settled himself at the corner.

  “Guess who’s officially a US citizen now?” Vicky’s fork dug into her food.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. They fast-tracked everything once Elena vouched for me. Apparently the Enhanced Corps is a priority.”

  “Well, congratulations?” Thad’s tattoos swirled with uncertain patterns.

  “Thanks. Better late than never, I guess.” A small laugh escaped between bites.

  Adelaide set down her coffee. “Just remember citizenship comes with responsibilities. Especially in your situation.”

  “Oh, right—Vicky, meet Papa Cell.” Lance gestured around the table. “Thad’s our probability calculator, Sasha keeps people’s organs working, and Adelaide makes walls optional.”

  “And Lance copies everyone’s homework,” Thad said, pushing back from the table. “Alright, I’m wiped. Gonna crash for a bit. Happy New Year, everyone. And nice to meet you, Vicky.”

  “Sooo,” Sasha said, “what’s your story? You mentioned you’re not from around here?”

  “Argentina, actually. I arrived the same day NARS—” Vicky caught herself. “Anyway, I get hot.” She grinned. “Not that I wasn’t already.”

  “It’s true,” Lance blurted.

  The table went quiet.

  “I mean, her power is heat generation. Not that she isn’t—” He shut his mouth, face warming. “You know what, never mind.”

  “This stew is way better than Sacred Valley,” Vicky said, mercifully changing the subject.

  “Hey, don’t disrespect the Valley.”

  “Their dumplings are basically rubber.”

  “You take that back.”

  Adelaide caught the exchange and drained her cup. “Think I’ll go stretch before evening formation. Clear my head a bit.”

  “I’ll join you.” Sasha stood and offered her arm. “Make sure you don’t phase through any walls by accident.”

  The two women left arm in arm, leaving Lance and Vicky at the corner of the square table.

  “How’s USEC treating you so far?” Lance ventured.

  “Could be better.” Vicky pushed her empty bowl aside. “I’m stronger than anyone in Oscar Cell, but couldn’t prove it. The more weight I loaded, the more heat I generated. Ended up melting one of their reinforced barbells.”

  “They’ll figure out a way to test you properly.”

  “Maybe. But even Steele’s scared to partner me with anyone now.” Vicky traced a pattern on the table with her finger. “Keeps saying I’m a liability.”

  “He’s just doing his job. Making sure no one gets hurt.”

  “That’s not...” Vicky’s words faltered. “It’s not just the weights. Every time I push myself, every time I feel stressed, I heat up. I can’t even sleep through the night anymore without burning through my sheets.

  “Is it getting stronger? Your power?” Lance asked.

  “Too much.” Vicky’s hands snapped shut like traps. “I hate how it feels, like I can’t control it. Just like...”

  Vicky stopped mid-sentence. Her smile disappeared and her eyes welled up. Tears streamed down her face. Lance sensed her pulse spike, her breathing turn ragged. Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug.

  He needed this too. Seeing her break down transported him right back to that hotel lobby, to the fight neither of them had wanted. To her eyes glazed with someone else’s control, to the heat that had nearly killed them both.

  A tear rolled down his own cheek. For a moment, everything stood still. Then…

  Calm.

  An overwhelming sense of serenity swallowed him whole, spreading from his core outward.

  He felt Vicky’s racing heart slow, her tense muscles unwind one by one. Their breathing synchronized, and in that moment he felt more connected to her than anyone else. Like they’d found safety together in the eye of a storm. She exhaled deeply against his shoulder—

  She pushed away from him. “What did you just do?”

  What had he done? It hit him like a shot of morphine, dragging his mind to some dreamscape oasis made of clouds and silence and starlight, and he didn’t want to leave. The sensation called to him, tempting like nothing he’d ever felt. He wanted to reach for it again, to sink back into that perfect peace. Then the system messages he’d ignored came flooding back, showing him exactly what had happened:

  Neural Dominion detected emotional distress

  └─Target: [Human Elementalist (1st Evolution)]

  └──[Mode: Emotional Resonance] activated

  └───Stabilizing neural patterns...

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Lance?”

  “It’s this ability I got from... I didn’t know it would activate. I swear I didn’t try to—”

  “Don’t.” Vicky stood, her chair scraping back. “It’s okay. We’ll talk later.”