Voss leaned back against the console, the amber glow of the Undercity lights flickering over her worn features. "After the first successful jumps, we began the real work. Training. Conditioning. They weren't soldiers yet — they were children trying to survive a war that had already decided they'd lose."
She glanced at 24. "Elias was seventeen, small for his age, but sharp. He had that stubbornness — the kind that makes people live when everyone else expects them to die. Specter… pale, blond, perfect. Silent, observant. Lark… loud, restless, always joking, always pushing the boundaries. Shade… quiet, almost eerie, like she could see through you. Wraith… angry, fearless, the kind who tests limits just to feel alive. And Moth… she flirted, teased, laughed, even in the middle of injections or drills. She never let anyone see her fear."
Kira leaned forward. "Flirted?"
Voss smiled faintly. "Flirted to survive. Flirted to keep her mind from breaking. She called Elias 'pretty boy,' mocked him relentlessly, and somehow made Specter and Wraith snarl at each other constantly. She was… alive. Even there."
Mara's arms tightened around her chest. "They were barely kids. How did they survive?"
Voss's eyes darkened. "Because I made sure someone looked at them as people, not machines. But it wasn't enough. The government wanted obedient killers. The first human trials were… horrific."
She gestured to the empty space around them. "We started small. Short jumps at first — just a few meters. Some children screamed, convulsed. Some… disappeared halfway, leaving pieces of themselves behind. Those who survived often came back changed. Eyes too wide. Faces pale. Some laughed when they should have cried. Others… whispered coordinates that didn't exist."
24's hands tightened on his knees. He didn't speak. He remembered.
"Elias was different," Voss continued. "The first successful jump. The first one that didn't rip him apart. He blinked once, and the room bent around him. And he came back intact. Stable. Moral. He held them together. Lark, Wraith, Shade… they followed him because he made them feel human, even for a moment. Moth teased him, of course. Made him laugh when he shouldn't have. She was… a spark."
Kira whispered, "A spark…"
"Yes," Voss said. "A spark in the middle of a forge."
Training was brutal. Every jump was timed. Every movement cataloged. Failures were punished — the children were strapped into harnesses, blasted with stimulation to test nerve and reflex, often leaving bruises that never healed properly. They learned to teleport under fire, dodge rounds, and strike without hesitation.
Yet, they were still children. Lark tripped over wires, only to laugh and say, "Well, at least I fell in style!" Shade fixed a broken drone with fingers smaller than the gears themselves, Wraith wrestled Moth to the ground during drills just to make her squeal, and Moth flirted through every interrogation, every correction, every injection.
Even Specter — the perfect soldier — sometimes blinked toward Elias for reassurance, as though the boy's moral compass was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
Voss's voice faltered. "It should have been enough. But every jump, every mission… stripped them of their childhood. The bonds they formed, the teasing, the laughter… it couldn't protect them from the machine they were becoming."
She exhaled slowly. "By the end of the training, they were soldiers. The youngest still barely eighteen. Six of them. The Black Division."
Mara's voice was low, incredulous. "And they survived all of it?"
"Barely," Voss said. "Elias… he survived because he cared. Moth survived because she refused to stop laughing. Specter survived because he had no choice but to be perfect. Lark, Shade, Wraith… they survived until the missions started. The first field exercises… the world outside was worse than any test. That's when the cracks began to show."
She paused, letting her words sink in. "And that's when they truly became ghosts."
Kira shivered. "The children you described… they weren't monsters yet. Just… kids."
"Yes," Voss whispered. "Kids. Human. And each of them carried a piece of what they were… even as the government tried to erase it."
24's gray eyes were distant. "I remember," he murmured.
Voss placed a hand gently on the console, as if steadying herself. "You remember the smell of ozone in the labs, the sparks from failed jumps, the sound of children screaming while trying to learn obedience. You remember Moth laughing at Wraith, even as she clutched her harness. You remember the first time you blinked and the room disappeared around you. You were still human then, Elias. And even now… that humanity is what keeps you alive."
Silence fell in the chamber, broken only by the hum of the generators.
Finally, Voss said, "They made us into monsters. But they started with children. And children… always leave pieces of themselves behind."