The day of our mission crept closer with every sunrise. Training grew more grueling, more relentless, but we all understood why. We needed to be ready.

  The day before departure, we were ordered to report to Room 304 again.

  "I wonder what it’s about," Alicia said at lunch, pushing her tray away.

  "Maybe they want to go over the flight plan," I replied, chewing slowly.

  "Or… maybe something new came up," Katherine added quietly, her eyes darting around the cafeteria.

  Alicia leaned in, lowering her voice. "Anyway, did you hear the rumors from the Southern Nation?" She scooped up her nutrient mash as casually as if she’d mentioned the weather. "They say there's a plague."

  "No way!" I almost dropped my fork. "A plague? Here?"

  "Not here. There," Alicia corrected. "But the rumor is... another nation released it."

  "That’s awful," Katherine murmured, looking sick. "What if they decide to target us next?"

  "They’ll probably tighten security," I muttered. "Add a few more rules to the list."

  "That would be annoying," Becca groaned, leaning back in her chair. "The rulebook is already thicker than a brick. If they add any more, I’m going to use it as a weapon."

  "Those rules are for our safety," Alicia snapped, her tone sharp as steel.

  "Or control," Becca smirked.

  "Or you might end up with a bullet in your brain for breaking them," Alicia said flatly.

  "You shouldn’t be so uptight," Becca replied lazily. "Stress gives you wrinkles, Al."

  "I agree with Alicia," Katherine whispered. "You’ll get us in trouble one day, Becca."

  "Right—like you’d want that, huh, scaredy cat?" Becca teased.

  "Shut up!" Katherine snapped, cheeks flushing pink.

  "Negative aura, Katherine," Becca sing-songed.

  Katherine inhaled sharply, ready to explode, but I cut in before things spiraled.

  "Maybe we should get moving since everyone’s done eating."

  "Good idea, Cass," Alicia said, looking relieved to escape the conversation.

  We returned our trays and headed for Room 304. Katherine and Becca argued the entire walk, much to Alicia’s misery. I tried to distract her.

  "So… the plague," I said, keeping my voice low. "Do you know anything? Symptoms?"

  "Lung inflammation," Alicia said, her brow furrowing. "Then blindness. Skin sores. And finally… death. They say it’s airborne."

  "If it’s airborne," I said, frowning, "containing it will be nearly impossible."

  "Unless it was engineered to burn out quickly," Alicia said quietly.

  I looked at her. "You think it was a weapon?"

  "In this world?" She sighed. "It’s highly possible."

  A chill crawled up my spine. For a moment, a flash of distorted bodies filled my mind—memories of the old chemical wars.

  "But we shouldn’t dwell on it," Alicia said, pulling me back to the present. "Our bio-filters are top-tier. Even the tiniest virus wouldn't get past the Stellarion's scrubbers."

  "I hope you're right."

  We arrived at Room 304. Most of the team was already there. The table was gone, leaving the room feeling strangely empty.

  Theo was leaning against the wall, looking exhausted. Zed was talking to Lexie—it must’ve been interesting because she was listening eagerly, nodding along to whatever he was saying. Aaron stood near the door, silent and unmoving as a statue.

  "Hey," Theo said as we walked in. He looked relieved to see familiar faces.

  You look terrible," Becca noted.

  "Thanks," Theo sighed, rubbing his temples. "I got stuck in the lift with Sterling. He spent ten minutes telling me a story about how he once single-handedly fought a monster the size of a house."

  "A house?" I asked.

  "A two-storied house more precisely ," Theo corrected, looking traumatized. "I don't even know if he was lying. He just kept talking. My ears are ringing."

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  Becca snorted. "Sounds like he's trying to toughen you up, kid. You look like you're about to faint every time someone speaks above a whisper."

  "I do not and we are the same age," Theo protested weakly.

  "You kind of do," Becca grinned. "You and Kathy should start a club. The 'Please Don't Hurt Us' alliance."

  Katherine bristled. "I told you to stop calling me that!"

  "And I told you to stop acting like one," Becca shot back.

  "Leave them alone, Becca," Alicia said sharply. "Nerves are normal. Not everyone is a sociopath like you."

  "Ouch," Becca laughed. "You wound me, Al."

  Before the argument could escalate, the doors slammed open.

  Commander Williams entered, followed by a drone hovering with a large crate suspended beneath it. His heavy footsteps echoed across the space.

  "Soldiers!" he barked, making Theo jump.

  "Today, you will receive your uniforms for tomorrow’s mission. They have been designed for maximum protection and functionality. Wear them with pride—and do not allow a single scratch on them, or you’ll disgrace our nation."

  He inhaled sharply. "Form a—"

  The door hissed open again.

  Vance walked in, looking tired but composed. Behind him, Ray strolled in, whistling a cheerful tune, his hands tucked into his pockets as if he were arriving at a picnic rather than a mandatory briefing.

  Commander Williams turned slowly. His face went from pale to a dangerous shade of crimson.

  "YOU TWO!" he roared. "DO YOU HAVE NO CONCEPT OF TIME? IS THIS HOW YOU RESPECT THE CHAIN OF COMMAND? LATENESS IS INSUBORDINATION!"

  The room went dead silent. Theo looked like he wanted to merge with the wall. Even Zed blinked.

  But Ray just stopped whistling. He looked at the Commander, then down at his wrist (which didn't have a watch), and then back up with a confused expression.

  "Late?" Ray asked innocently. "My apologies, Commander. I was busy polishing my respect for authority. It takes a while to get it shiny enough for you."

  Vance sighed audibly, rubbing his forehead.

  Williams’ jaw worked furiously, a vein bulging in his temple. He looked like he was about to draw his sidearm. It was clear Ray wasn't just apologizing—he was baiting him. Pushing him to see how far he would go.

  "I am cancelling your dinner privileges," Williams spat, his voice trembling with rage. "Both of you. Enjoy going to bed hungry."

  Ray dipped into an exaggerated, theatrical bow. "Thank you, sir. I needed to lose a few pounds anyway. Gotta stay aerodynamic for the mission, right?"

  "Get in line," Williams growled, turning his back on them before he did something he'd regret.

  Alicia let out a breath she'd been holding. "He's insane," she whispered to me, glaring at Ray. "He's actually trying to get court-martialed."

  "He's certainly... bold," I whispered back.

  "He's a liability," Alicia muttered.

  We lined up and received our uniforms from the drone. They were sleek, black armored suits with silver lining—heavier than our training gear, but flexible.

  When everyone had their kit, Williams cleared his throat.

  "On this mission, you will be accompanied by a specialized tactical unit," he said, gesturing to the shadow behind him. "Designation: Sentra."

  There was no heavy footfall. No mechanical whirring. Just a sudden, gliding movement.

  Sentra rolled into the light. It was a sleek, circular sphere of matte black metal, balanced on a complex system of multidirectional wheels. As it moved, the upper half of its body spun slowly—a continuous, silent rotation. It had no face, only a single red optical sensor band that wrapped around its circumference, allowing it to see in every direction at once.

  "Sentra is not a mere camera," Williams warned, his voice hard. "It is an autonomous tactical overseer. It will calculate routes, monitor your vitals, and dictate the mission pace. It does not suggest; it commands."

  The bot stopped in front of us. The body continued to spin silently, the red sensor sweeping over Theo, then me, then Vance, never pausing, never blinking. It was unnerving—like being watched by a floating eye.

  "You are to protect it at all costs," Williams continued. "But make no mistake—Sentra is the priority. If the unit determines you are compromising the mission, it has the authority to correct you."

  He paused, his gaze hardening as he looked at each of us.

  "Sentra is a huge investment. If something happens to it, you will all be held responsible."

  I frowned, a cold knot forming in my stomach. It’s not a teammate. It’s a warden.

  Commander Williams turned and stormed out. Sentra didn't follow immediately. It lingered for a second, its spinning body accelerating slightly, a silent blur of black metal and red light recording our faces. Then, with a smooth, frictionless glide, it rolled after the Commander.

  "Well," Ray announced to the room, breaking the heavy silence, "who wants to share their dinner with me?"

  Vance just grabbed Ray by the back of his collar. "Come on. We have gear to prep." He dragged him out, offering a brief, apologetic nod to the rest of us as they left.

  We followed them out soon after. The air outside the briefing room felt heavy, the artificial sun beginning to set on our final day at the Academy.

  "Say what you want," Becca said, a grin tugging at her lips, "but that Sterling guy has guts."

  "He’s unprofessional," Alicia corrected sharply. "The only reason he hasn't been executed is probably because Vance is too valuable to lose."

  "Or maybe Ray is just that good," Becca mused. She adjusted her bag, her expression shifting from amused to cold. "Either way, I'd rather go out laughing like him than shaking like a leaf."

  She didn't look at Katherine, but the insult hung in the air. Katherine stared at her boots, jaw tight, saying nothing.

  We turned the corner toward the lifts—and almost collided with a wall of grey uniforms.

  "Whoa," a familiar voice said. Hands steadied my shoulders. "Watch out, sis."

  I looked up. "Anthony."

  My brother stood there with Liam. They both looked exhausted, their hair damp with sweat from final drills. But Anthony’s eyes were alert, scanning my face for cracks.

  "How was the meeting?" he asked.

  "Tense," Becca answered for me, holding up her uniform bag. "We got new silver threads. And a killer robot that watches us sleep."

  "Sounds about right," Liam said dryly. "Our meeting was quick. Commander Johnson seemed in a hurry."

  "Same with Williams," I said. "Something feels... odd."

  "It's probably nothing," Anthony said, though his grip on my shoulder tightened slightly. "Don't overthink it, Cass."

  "We have to get to the training sector," Liam said, checking the time. "Commander’s orders. Last briefing before launch."

  Liam looked at me, his expression unusually serious. "Good luck tomorrow, Cass. Really."

  "Thanks," I said. "You too."

  "Here’s to hoping we all come back," Becca said. She wasn't joking this time.

  Anthony leaned in close. The smell of sweat clung to him.

  "Don’t forget our promise," he whispered into my ear.

  "I won’t," I whispered back. "I'll see you on the other side."

  He pulled back, gave me a sharp nod, and then he and Liam were jogging down the corridor, disappearing into the crowd of recruits.

  "What was that about?" Alicia asked.

  "Nothing," I said quickly, turning away before she could see the worry in my eyes. "Just family stuff."

  The corridor lights flickered, signaling the start of the night cycle.

  "Come on," I said, steering the group toward the barracks before Becca could start another fight. "We launch at 0600. Let's get some sleep while we still can."