A sharp knock knock echoed through the quiet room.
I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. My body still felt heavy, like the dream had left a weight pressed into my chest. Perin lifted his head lazily from the corner, yawning wide before curling back into his fur.
I opened the door.
Shivani stood there — the same sharp uniform, her hair tied back, eyes alert even in the early light. The dome's morning glow reflected faintly off her armor, giving her an almost ethereal outline.
"Good morning, Arin," she said with a small nod. "How was your night?"
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Not bad… just a little—"She raised an eyebrow. "You look stressed."
"Yeah, well, bad pillows," I said, forcing a smirk.
For a second — just a second — she smiled. The faintest one I'd seen since meeting her.Then she straightened again, all soldier. "Get freshened up. You're coming with me to the General's office."
"The General?" I asked, blinking. "Why? Did I do something?"
She crossed her arms. "No. You're going to do something."
"Huh?"
"A job," she said, stepping aside to let the light fall across the hallway.
"A… job?" I repeated.
"Yes," she said, smirking slightly at my confusion. "You need to start paying your rent, remember? Nobody here lives for free — not even strangers who fall out of nowhere."
I sighed. "You really have a way with words."
"I try," she said flatly, though her eyes glimmered with amusement.
She started to turn, then paused. "Be at the General's office within the hour. Don't make me send a patrol to fetch you."
I saluted mockingly. "Yes, ma'am."
She rolled her eyes. "Just… don't be late, Arin. I'll be waiting there."
The door hissed shut behind her, leaving the faint scent of Astra energy and dust in the air.
I exhaled slowly, leaning against the wall.A job, huh?
The word felt strange — normal — in a world like this.
Perin padded over, climbing up onto the desk beside me. He tilted his head, giving a short chirp.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," I said, scratching his ear. "We'll go. Maybe working for the military's safer than whatever that dream was."
Perin blinked, unimpressed.
I looked toward the window — the city beyond glowing in soft morning blue. It looked calm, peaceful… but after last night, I wasn't so sure anymore.
"Alright, buddy," I muttered, standing up. "Let's see what kind of trouble we're walking into this time."
The General's office smelled of metal polish and old paper—authority wrapped in quiet. The room itself was modest: a wide desk, a wall of data-screens, and a row of plaques that caught the dome's blue glow and threw it back like tiny watchful eyes.
I stepped in, Perin padded quietly at my feet where Shivani had left him, and the General looked up from a slate. She didn't rise. She didn't need to. Her gaze did the work of a hundred questions.
"You're five minutes late," she said flatly. No welcome. No softness. Just the finality of a clock.
"Sorry," I said, hands up. "Traffic? Dragons?" I tried for a joke—half a grimace, half a grin.
A single, almost amused twitch at the corner of her mouth. "This is the General, not a comedy club. Roll the file."
A mechanized drawer hissed open. Shivani stepped forward and slid a paper cylinder along the desk toward me—an analog form in a city that loved everything glowing. I took it, fingers oddly clumsy. The General watched.
"Choose carefully," she said. "This isn't a game."
I unrolled the file. A list blinked to life across the page: Astra Maintenance Corps, Logistics & Supply, Civil Engineering, Security Patrol, Medical Reserve, Military Exploration Unit (MEU), Reclamation Teams. Each one had a short—almost clinical—description. The MEU entry pulsed faintly in my vision for reasons I couldn't explain: Field reconnaissance and boundary operations. High mobility. High risk. Exactly the opposite of an office.
My throat was dry. "MEU," I said before thinking too much.
Shivani's eyes flashed. "Bold," she murmured.
The General tapped a key. "Noted. We'll register you under MEU pending basic clearance. You'll be assigned a handler. One warning: MEU isn't for spectators. You'll be in the field, exposed to hazards." Her voice softened fractionally—just enough to be dangerous. "Are you sure?"
I met her stare. "Yes."
She nodded once. "Then we'll make it official."
A junior officer stepped forward, polite to the point of nervousness. He placed a palm on a glowing register pad and began pulling up data. The room hummed as biotech scanned the rolled file and cross-referenced me against archived records. Shivani stood beside me like a shield: the quiet proof that I hadn't simply fallen from the sky alone.
"You understand the obligations," the officer said, eyes flicking between me and the General.
"Understood," I said.
He printed a slim card—cold crystal, edged with a blue light—and pressed it toward me. "Temporary clearance: field access level one. Valid until the assignment is confirmed. You'll report at 1400 for orientation."
The General rose then, moving with the slow grace of someone used to being obeyed. From a rack behind her she pulled a coat—simple, utility-cut, woven with pale fibers threaded through with Astra filaments that shimmered when the room light struck them. It fit like armor for a civilian: functional, durable, not pretty.
"This is your MEU coat," she said as she handed it over. The badge on the sleeve matched the symbol I'd seen on the gate—the spiral sun. "Wear it when you're on duty. Keep it clean. Don't lose it."
I slipped the coat on. The fabric settled against my shoulders. There was weight to it—a reminder of expectation. The officer attached a small access pin beside the collar; it clicked into place with a soft chime.
"You have rights," the officer added, quick as a reflex. "You also have responsibilities. Follow orders. Stay within protocols. And whatever you do—do not interfere with public cycles."
The General's eyes were harder than before. "We will see how you perform, Arin. If you survive MEU, you'll earn more than rent. Fail, and you'll find out why the dome looks so pretty from the outside."
I swallowed. Perin nudged my hand and licked my palm, unbothered by the talk of danger. Around us, soldiers who'd watched the registration drifted back to their posts. The city hummed on, indifferent.
Shivani gave me a brief, soldierly nod. "Report at the south hangar in one hour. That's your handler's pickup point. Don't be late."
"Right," I said, fingers tightening once on the coat. It felt like the start of something—useful, terrifying, real.
We left the office. The door closed with a soft, final sound—another minor ritual in a city that kept score in chimes and protocol.
Outside, the plaza sparkled. People moved in their practiced rhythms. I was suddenly part of a roster—no longer nameless, but not free either. The coat felt heavy on my shoulders in more ways than one.
After receiving the coat, Arin headed across the plaza toward the M.E.U. Headquarters — a large silver-steel facility built like a fortress, with holographic insignias flickering above the entrance. Perin padded silently alongside him, earning a few curious stares but no comments.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted immediately — darker, more serious. Soldiers moved with precision, their boots striking the metal floors in crisp rhythm. Unlike the public sector outside, this place felt alive with tension… and danger.
As he stepped further in, a woman approached, her steps confident and sharp. She wore a darker version of the MEU coat — black streaks down the sleeves denoting rank. Her expression was calm but unreadable.
"So," she said, stopping in front of him, "you're the new temporary addition to the Exploration Unit."
Arin straightened. "Uh… yes. That's what they told me."
She nodded once. "I am Commander Aisha Varin — 4th Unit Commando assigned here for cross-unit supervision. I'll be overseeing your assessment phase."
Her tone made it clear: this was not a warm welcome — this was a challenge.
He instinctively added, "Yes, madam."
Aisha didn't smile. She gave a short hand gesture and a nearby soldier saluted, then sprinted off down a corridor.
"I just sent orders to the mission desk," she continued, folding her arms behind her back. "You will begin preliminary survival conditioning starting today. If you are to operate outside city boundaries… you must survive outside city boundaries."
"Outside world?" Arin muttered under his breath. "That's literally where I came from…"
She gave him a brief sideways glance — not amused, but slightly curious.
"Shivani mentioned your performance," Aisha said. "Defeated three unit soldiers during the incident. Assisted in resisting an external strike. Impressive, if not accidental."
Arin scratched his cheek casually. "They were kind of asking for it."
Aisha stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Power is meaningless without control. We don't care how strong you might be — only whether you can obey, endure, and execute under pressure."
She turned her back on him and walked toward a large, cleared combat zone within the headquarters — a dome-shaped arena with reinforced glass walls.
"Let me see if your reputation is anything more than luck," she said.
A faint smile touched Arin's lips. "So… this is a test?"
Aisha looked over her shoulder, eyes sharp. "No. This is me deciding whether you'll live past your first mission."
Perin growled approvingly, hopping off Arin's shoulder and stretching like he sensed fun incoming.
Arin rotated his shoulders, stepping into the arena.
"Alright then," he said quietly. "Let's see what 'training' looks like here."
Commander Aisha led me through a side corridor and into a long, empty practice hall. The room smelled of oil and metal—military plainness—and its floor was scuffed by years of impact.
"Stand here," she said, setting herself two paces away. Her voice was flat as a blade. "I'll test you. Don't hold back. If you hesitate, you die."
Her words were not a threat in the casual sense—they were a statement of fact. The air between us tightened.
"Right," I whispered, tasting the metallic tang of adrenaline. Don't show fear. Don't show doubt.
She moved first.
Not a slow step or a wind-up—just a blur of motion. Her fist came at my face, faster than my eyes expected. I ducked, rolled, found my footing again. She didn't stop. Strike followed strike, precise and cold, a machine trained to break people.
She was fast—too fast to be sloppy, too disciplined to be humanly warm. I blocked and parried, letting instinct and whatever the serum had left in me take over. For a while it was a dance: her rhythm, my counter-rhythm. Sweat beaded at my hairline.
Then one hit landed. A solid, brutal punch to my left chest that shoved the wind from me. The world tilted. For a second I couldn't breathe.
She laughed—sharp and hard—rising above my stunned silence. "So this is your power?" she taunted. "Pathetic."
My mouth went dry. Blood pricked at my lip. I tasted iron.
Something snapped inside me then. Not a thought—more like a decision born in bone. I felt the old hum under my skin, a light beginning to crawl along my veins. The Echoform answered to whatever fear she kicked up in me. It wasn't graceful. It wasn't controlled. It was a hungry flare.
Aisha paused, eyebrows lifting at the change. "Oh. That's new. Echoform." Her voice held curiosity now, a dangerous one. "If that's what you have, you're in Phase One. It takes—" she checked a slate with a bland glance—"years to master. Ten, maybe."
That should've scared me. Instead it steadied something.
I didn't wait for her to finish.
I stepped forward and threw a punch with everything that edginess had built: the raw, angry momentum of someone who had been pushed too far. Aisha barely absorbed it—her forearm took the blow; the whole practice floor shuddered. The impact cracked the concrete beneath us. A spray of dust and a clean, widening fracture crawled outward until a crater formed where my feet had stood.
Silence swallowed the hall. A few soldiers peered through the door. One of them hissed, "Who is he—?"
Pain flared across my knuckles, but that heat fed the echo inside me, sharpening my focus into a single blade of intent. I moved again—faster, angrier. Each strike carried that new edge; each hit landed with less hesitation and more force. I felt the difference: the world slowed around my fists, my reflexes matched the tempo of the Echoform. I wasn't merely hitting; I was cutting through resistance.
Aisha stepped back and then forward, eyes narrowed. She launched herself at me again, but this time I felt in me a rage that would not be kept. I closed the distance faster than she expected and threw a straight, full-force punch aimed at her face.
Her mouth opened—maybe a laugh, maybe a curse—but before my fist could connect, something intercepted it.
A crimson-gloved hand caught my wrist like a vise. Another hand—gloved, steady—wrapped my forearm and halted my motion. The impact didn't stop there; a figure moved with impossible calm and, with a small twist, the force of my blow was re-routed and thrown away into the floor. The man who'd appeared was neither soldier nor clerk. He wore a long, odd coat stitched with patterns I didn't recognize; his face was half-shadow.
For a heartbeat the hall stood frozen. Aisha stared, mouth open. The soldiers at the doorway were silent.
The stranger gave me a long look—eyes sharp and amused. He didn't release my hand. "Easy," he said, voice even and a little tired. "Strong. Untrained."
His grip was firm but not cruel. He turned his head toward Aisha. "Is this your student? He's dangerous if left so raw." Then, to me: "Control it, boy, or it will control you."
My pulse thudded in my throat. I expected questions, orders, a reprimand—but the man simply stepped back, letting the tension settle like dust. Without another word he melted into the shadows beyond the practice hall. By the time I blinked, he was gone.
I clenched my fist, feeling the echoform dim to a dull glow beneath my skin. Perin at my feet let out a low, baffled chuff, his fur still bristling from the fight.
Aisha's face was unreadable. Then she smiled—not warm, but something like satisfaction. "Interesting," she said. "You survive today, Arin. Meet at 1400 at the south hangar. We'll see if MEU can teach you to survive outside those walls."
Her tone had a new edge to it now—respect tempered with caution.
As we left the hall, my hand still trembled. The stranger's warning repeated in my head: Control it, or it will control you.
Who had stopped my punch? And why had he disappeared like smoke?
Those questions sat heavy in my gut as Perin licked my hand and the world around me resumed its ordinary hum—blue lights glowing, soldiers marching, a city pretending that everything was still safe.
The echo of my nearly-finished punch still hung in the air when silence swallowed the arena. The stranger who had stopped me was gone as if he'd been made of smoke — only the faint smear of blood left on the floor proved he was ever real.
My chest rose and fell, the embers of Echoform still flickering under my skin like dying sparks.
Commander Aisha stood facing me, her eyes slightly wider than before. For the first time, her stance wasn't perfectly composed — she had taken a half-step back without noticing.
She hid it quickly.
Her arms folded behind her again. Her face returned to calm.
But her voice was different.
"I said I'd test you," she said at last. "Consider the test… passed."
She didn't sound pleased.
More like… cautious.
Her eyes drifted briefly to the cracked floor, then to my still-tensed fist.
"You're officially assigned to the MEU as a temporary recruit," she continued. "But understand this — you're unstable. Unrefined. If you lose control like that in a real field, you could wipe out your own unit before the enemy touches you."
She stepped past me, brushing against the wake of leftover heat in the air.
"No more Echoform unless ordered," she said firmly. "You'll report to survival conditioning at 14:00 hours. Gear will be issued. Your handler will brief you."
She paused at the doorway and glanced at me one last time.
"…Don't make me regret pushing for your entry."
Then she left.
Only after she was gone did I realize my heart was still racing.
Later.
I sat on a bench just outside the MEU grounds, coat unbuttoned, lungs slowly calming. The sky under the dome shimmered silver-blue above us, pretending everything was peaceful.
Perin sprawled beside me, head on my boot, watching me with quiet, animal concern.
I stared at my hand.
It trembled.
Not just from effort — from fear.
I closed my fist.
If that punch had landed…
Aisha's skull. The explosion of force. The blood. The silence after.
I swallowed. Hard.
Perin nudged my hand with his nose, chirping softly. Like he was telling me I was still here. Still grounded.
"I almost…" I whispered, not finishing the thought.
For a moment, I wondered if this was really strength — or something cursed. Something dangerous.
Something not entirely mine.
I exhaled slowly. My body ached, but my chest hurt more — like something was etched beneath the skin, right where the dream-blade had pierced me.
On reflex, I touched the spot.
It felt warm.
Burning.
I flinched.
And then— A whisper brushed the back of my mind.
Kill her…
My breath caught.
"…No," I muttered. "Get out of my head."
The voice faded.
But the warmth stayed.
Perin growled at nothing.
Elsewhere… inside the MEU command wing.
Commander Aisha stood alone in a private briefing room. A holographic screen blinked to life in front of her.
Incoming Directive: CLASSIFIED – EYES ONLY.
She read silently.
Her expression didn't move for five seconds.
Then her jaw clenched.
She locked the screen and whispered under her breath:
"So… it's true." A slow exhale. "He is one of them."
The lights dimmed.
Later.
I sat on a bench just outside the MEU grounds, coat unbuttoned, lungs slowly calming. The sky under the dome shimmered silver-blue above us, pretending everything was peaceful.
Perin sprawled beside me, head on my boot, watching me with quiet, animal concern.
I stared at my hand.
It trembled.
Not just from effort — from fear.
I closed my fist.
If that punch had landed…
Aisha's skull. The explosion of force. The blood. The silence after.
I swallowed. Hard.
Perin nudged my hand with his nose, chirping softly. Like he was telling me I was still here. Still grounded.
"I almost…" I whispered, not finishing the thought.
For a moment, I wondered if this was really strength — or something cursed. Something dangerous.
Something not entirely mine.
I exhaled slowly. My body ached, but my chest hurt more — like something was etched beneath the skin, right where the dream-blade had pierced me.
On reflex, I touched the spot.
It felt warm.
Burning.
I flinched.
And then— A whisper brushed the back of my mind.
Kill her…
My breath caught.
"…No," I muttered. "Get out of my head."
The voice faded.
But the warmth stayed.
Perin growled at nothing.
Elsewhere… inside the MEU Command Wing.
Commander Aisha entered a quiet, secured briefing room. A file blinked open on a translucent holo-screen.
REPORT UPDATE – Subject: Temporary Recruit Arin Status: Anomaly Detected. Further Evaluation Required.
She read the combat report in silence — accounts of power far beyond standard Echoform, hand injuries reported from deflecting a single punch, unexplained readings on contact.
Her expression remained calm… but her eyes narrowed slightly.
She closed the file and set it on "Pending – High Priority."
Under her breath, she muttered:
"Just… what are you?"
The lights dimmed automatically as she walked out, leaving the question hanging in the air like a quiet warning.