The pain came first.
A slow, electric pressure that began behind Briar's ribs and spread through every nerve until his whole body trembled. He gritted his teeth as the machine's tendrils fastened around his chest, locking in place.
"Breathe," Solis said softly.
Briar tried, but it felt like breathing through glass. The harness—black metal laced with flickering blue veins—tightened, then pulsed once, syncing to the rhythm of his heart.
The lights dimmed. The hum of energy that had lived inside him since the serum went silent.
He felt hollow.
Solis stepped back, checking the readings on a console. "The inhibitor's stable. Neural sync complete."
Briar sat up slowly. The weight of the device dug into his skin like chains. "What did you do to me?"
"I saved you," Solis replied. "You were burning yourself apart. The inhibitor regulates your output—keeps your energy from overloading your system."
"In other words," Briar said, flexing his fingers, "I'm powerless."
Solis didn't argue.
Through the observation glass, Lyra and Nova watched silently. Nova's voice came through the intercom. "So… humanity's greatest weapon is now on a leash."
"Necessary," Solis said flatly.
"Convenient," she muttered back.
Briar slid off the table, the metal floor cold under his bare feet. The inhibitor hummed faintly as he moved, like it was listening to him.
Lyra met him at the door. "You okay?"
He forced a smile. "Define okay."
Her eyes softened. "You're still you, Briar. That doesn't change."
He wished he believed that.
The next morning, the training dome came alive with light. The air shimmered with holographic projections—terrain simulations shifting from desert to cityscape to ice fields.
Dozens of cadets stood in formation, the first recruits of the Second Genesis Program. The hum of anticipation filled the room, cut only by the voice of Commander Vance—Rex—who stood before them in reinforced armor, crimson insignia across his chest.
"Welcome to the Crucible," he said. "You're not here to be heroes. You're here to survive what's coming. The ions are regrouping. The next wave will make the last one look like a rehearsal."
His gaze swept over the recruits, pausing briefly on Briar. "Some of you already think you're special. You're not. Not yet."
The recruits exchanged nervous glances.
"Teams of five," Rex continued. "Simulated combat, full power authorization. Fail to cooperate, and you fail the program."
Lyra moved toward Briar automatically. Eira joined them, quiet and unreadable. Nova appeared at Briar's side in a blink, chewing gum like the apocalypse was a party.
Then she appeared.
A figure walked into the dome, the crowd's murmurs shifting to silence. Her armor was sleek silver and indigo, designed with Aether Dominion insignia. Hair like molten bronze caught the light; eyes bright and sharp as crystal.
"Seren Vale," Rex announced. "Transfer from Aether research corps. Specialization: elemental resonance."
Eira froze. "Seren…?"
The new girl smiled faintly. "Hello, little sister."
Briar blinked. "Sister?"
Eira nodded, her voice barely audible. "Half-sister. Dominion doesn't forget its bloodlines."
Seren turned toward Briar, studying him like she already knew who he was. "You're the one they call the Seed of Genesis."
He frowned. "I didn't choose the name."
"Names have power," she said, stepping closer. "Some people earn them. Some live up to them."
There was something in her tone—not admiration, not mockery, but curiosity.
Rex clapped his hands. "Enough talk. Group one—Briar, Lyra, Eira, Nova, Seren. You're first."
The simulation field flared to life. The cityscape around them shifted, forming towers of steel and smoke. Target drones appeared, glowing red, moving like predators through the ruins.
"Begin," Rex said.
The drones attacked fast. Briar's instincts kicked in—he raised his hand, felt the surge of power rise—then nothing. The inhibitor buzzed, and his strength vanished mid-motion. A beam hit his shoulder, throwing him to the ground.
"Briar!" Lyra called, blasting the nearest drone with a flare of light.
Nova vanished in a blink, reappearing behind a drone and slicing through its core. Eira's eyes glowed faint blue as she redirected incoming shots telekinetically. Seren moved like a storm—hands tracing arcs of fire and ice, her energy sharp, precise, flawless.
Briar struggled to his feet. Every move felt slow, weak. The inhibitor's hum grew louder, mocking him.
"Use your environment!" Seren shouted, hurling a wave of molten debris at a cluster of drones. "Cover the east flank!"
"I'm trying!" Briar snapped, forcing the inhibitor to loosen with sheer will. A spark of energy flared at his fingertips—then the harness seared with pain, locking down the flow. He gasped, knees buckling.
Nova flickered beside him, hand on his arm. "You're bleeding, genius. The thing's burning through your skin."
"I can handle it," he growled.
"Sure you can." She vanished again.
By the time the simulation ended, half the team was down. Seren stood amid the wreckage, hair whipping in the artificial wind, breathing hard but victorious. Rex's voice came through the intercom. "Group one: 62% efficiency. Average. Reset for next rotation."
Briar fell to his knees. The harness flickered, smoking slightly.
Seren approached, wiping sweat from her brow. "You pushed too hard."
He looked up at her. "You think I don't know that?"
Her expression softened for a moment, then cooled again. "Power isn't everything. Control wins wars."
She walked away, leaving him kneeling in the dust.
Lyra helped him up, glaring at Seren's retreating figure. "Ignore her."
"She's right," Briar said quietly. "I couldn't even last five minutes."
"You've got nothing to prove to her."
"Maybe not to her," he said, eyes narrowing, "but to myself."
Later that night, the dome was empty. Briar stood alone under the flickering lights, the inhibitor humming softly. He closed his eyes and reached inward, trying to feel the current again—the storm that once answered his call. Nothing.
"Come on," he whispered. "Just once."
The harness pulsed in warning. Sparks flared across his chest. Pain surged. He fell to one knee, gasping.
From the shadows, Seren's voice broke the silence. "You'll kill yourself doing that."
He turned. She stepped into the light, still wearing her training armor, eyes steady.
"I don't need your advice," he said.
"You need something," she replied. "Half the camp's afraid of you. The other half pities you."
He laughed bitterly. "And which are you?"
"Neither." She stepped closer. "I just want to see what you'll become when the leash finally breaks."
He met her gaze, defiance burning through exhaustion. "Then pray you're not standing in front of me when it does."
For a heartbeat, neither moved. The inhibitor hummed between them like a live wire. Then she turned and walked away, her silhouette fading into the dark.
Briar stayed there long after she left, the cold floor beneath him and the faint whisper of power waiting somewhere deep inside, chained but not gone.