The antiseptic smell of the Veil facility was instantly replaced by the humid, rotting air of the Nigerian rainforest. Kwandezi stood on damp earth, the soles of his boots sinking slightly into the wet soil. The power-dampening cuffs were gone, replaced by thick, shimmering silver bracelets that looked like high-tech jewelry, the only visible sign of his incarceration. Aisha stood a few feet away, her operational suit sleek and functional against the dense green backdrop.
Captain Akanni's voice crackled through a small, nearly invisible earpiece that Aisha wore. "Mission parameters, Operative Aisha. You are to monitor the asset's power signature and psychological stability. Kwandezi, your target is a Tier-Two Parasitic Void-borne known locally as 'The Whisper.' It's operating in an abandoned research outpost 500 meters from your position, preying on local fauna and a small, unclassified Veil patrol that went dark three hours ago. Containment is not an option. Termination is mandatory."
"A training exercise, then," Kwandezi muttered, adjusting the new, dark leather jacket the Veil had issued him. It felt like a costume, another uniform in his pathetic life. He shot a cold, contemptuous glance at Aisha. "And you're here to hold my hand, Operative Anchor?"
Aisha ignored the taunt, her expression a mix of steely resolve and hidden fear. "My job is to ensure the Void Host stays suppressed," she said, her voice low. "If you lose control, the system automatically triggers an emergency protocol. Captain Akanni is waiting with a team of Banishers, ready to neutralize the facility—and you."
He laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "A kill switch. How efficient. And what if I simply refuse to fight, Anchor? What if I decide I'd rather take my chances with the Veil's kill squad?"
"Then you don't get the name," Aisha countered, meeting his gaze squarely. "Then the man who killed your mother walks free. Is your self-loathing so great that you'd sacrifice your vengeance for it?"
That hit him like a physical blow. Kwandezi's face remained a cold mask, but the faint purple light in his eyes flared. He hated her for her insight, for the way she could effortlessly cut through his cynicism to the core of his pain. She knows my weakness. She is the worst kind of parasite, he thought, the Void Host echoing the word 'parasite' with dark amusement.
"Fine," he ground out. "But don't get in my way, or your pity will be the last thing you feel."
He melted into the jungle, moving with the preternatural speed and grace of a predator who had spent a lifetime hunting in the shadows. He didn't follow the Veil's GPS coordinates; he followed the familiar cold dread of the Void.
Aisha trailed him, relying on her comms and her Empathic Resonance. The forest was silent, too silent. Normal life had been driven out. Suddenly, a wave of sickening, confused emotion washed over her—a panicked blend of fear and deep-seated grief.
"Kwandezi, wait!" she whispered into her mic. "The Void-borne... it's not just malice. It's heavy with human sorrow. It's using their grief."
He stopped instantly, standing rigid beneath the canopy. The feeling was right. The creature wasn't attacking; it was toying with its victims, magnifying their internal pain until they succumbed. This was a psychic predator.
"Show me," Kwandezi said, his voice a low command. He hated the Veil, but he respected the threat of the enemy.
Aisha extended her hand toward a moss-covered boulder. "The scout team," she murmured, closing her eyes. "They're nearby. They're not dead, they're... broken."
Kwandezi took two steps and found them—three Veil operatives, kneeling in a tight huddle, their faces pale and slick with tears. They weren't fighting. They were locked in a catatonic state, reliving their worst memories, the air around them thick with magnified sorrow. The Whisper, a mass of translucent, shimmering energy that looked like heat haze, was floating above them, feasting.
The Void Host surged, eager for the fight, whispering, Consume its power. Take its sorrow.
Kwandezi fought the urge, his jaw clenched. He recognized the creature's strategy: it was attacking the soul, not the body. His Null-Kinetic power, while capable of erasing matter, was a physical force. He couldn't fight a psychic attack if he was distracted by his own internal pain.
"I need a clear path," Kwandezi hissed at Aisha. "Break the connection."
Aisha understood immediately. The monster was feeding on their amplified emotions. She had to become a psychic barrier. She pushed out her Empathic Resonance, not to analyze, but to dampen. She focused all her will, forcing a wave of cold emotional emptiness toward the traumatized operatives.
The Whisper shrieked, a sound that only existed in their minds. It was startled; its feast was being interrupted. The psychic link was broken. The three operatives collapsed, unconscious but mercifully free.
The Whisper, now fully visible as a swirling vortex of shimmering gas, turned its malice toward the source of the interruption: Aisha. A crushing wave of pure, targeted grief slammed into her mind, instantly dredging up the sight of Kaito's bisected body and the knowledge of the Veil's corruption. She staggered back, hands flying to her temples.
Now, the Void Host screamed with glee inside Kwandezi's mind. Strike the female! Eliminate the leash!
Kwandezi saw Aisha crumble, tears streaming down her face as she relived the horror he had inflicted. He felt the familiar surge of cynical apathy, the impulse to let the world consume her. But then he remembered his mother, the one person he failed to save, the person whose memory was now his only tether.
"You won't touch her," Kwandezi growled, the words a promise. He stepped forward, allowing the cold, dark flames of his power to lick up his left arm. He didn't need to feel the monster's malice; he needed to feel his own hatred.
He focused not on the beast's psychic form, but on its physical space. The Void Host was pure energy, but it existed somewhere. He found the faint, shimmering condensation at its core.
Kwandezi extended his hand, and the air around the Whisper began to warp. He wasn't using the brutal Null-Kinetic pulse this time. He was using a controlled technique, concentrating the dark energy like a focused lens.
The Whisper tried to flee, its psychic essence useless against the cold, physical erasure. The swirling gas condensed violently, pulling the life and light from the monster. With a soundless pop, the Tier-Two Parasitic Void-borne was gone.
Kwandezi stood over the spot where the creature vanished, breathing heavily, the purple glow in his eyes slowly receding. He was still in control, but he was furious. He hadn't just killed a monster. He had saved the Anchor he was trying to hate.
"Efficient," Aisha managed, pushing herself upright, her body trembling but her eyes clear.
"Don't thank me," Kwandezi snapped, turning his back on her and the unconscious operatives. "I saved my leash. Nothing more. Now tell your Captain the training exercise is complete. I want the name."