As the colossal door resounded with a resolute slam, signifying Sensei's departure from the training room, Tess rose from the bench, determined to make her way towards the aisle. Lanse, his eyes still tinged with crimson, observed her intently as she moved away. However, once it became apparent that she intended to leave, he voiced his query, "And where do you think you're going?"
Without breaking her stride, Tess replied firmly, "I'm leaving this place."
Lanse, compelled by her statement, stood up from the bench and spoke plainly, "No, you're not."
His words caused her to halt, compelling her to turn around and meet his dark, fiery gaze. The others, though seated, were acutely aware of the exchange unfolding before them.
"Yes, I am," Tess asserted, her voice laced with determination. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me."
Lanse stared at her intently, a piercing glare that carried a hint of expectation. It compelled Tess to realize that he was awaiting an explanation.
"Fine," she acquiesced, offering a partial concession. "I'll return before nightfall and complete what needs to be done by morning. He will never suspect a thing."
A clandestine plan formed in Tess's mind—a scheme involving sneaking to an elevator, locating the floor housing the teleporters, and employing one to effect her escape. A brief smile graced her face, only to be swiftly erased as she remembered who she spoke to.
Lanse's narrowed eyes shifted away from her, his annoyance evident, as he laboriously uttered his response. "He will return before then to inspect our progress. Once he realizes that only four columns have been cleaved," he motioned towards the concrete structure as he strode towards it, "he will punish all five of us."
The others rose from the bench, their movements filled with aching reluctance, their brows knitting together in collective concern as they absorbed the weight of Lanse's words.
"Do you honestly think he would go that far?" Zino inquired, her gaze briefly shifting towards her battered nails as she pondered her own question. A frown formed on her face, betraying her lack of confidence.
Lanse tightened his grip on one of the handles, examining the blade intently, as he responded, "It's a standard Mid-Sentry protocol. Everyone gets punished for the foolish mistake of one individual."
Tess clenched her hands into fists, her frustration mounting. Foolish mistake? Is that how he saw her?
Zack interjected, approaching Lanse with a contemplative expression. "I believe Lanse may have a point, Tee. Perhaps this is a test—a way to challenge us and see if we're committed."
"That trickster!" Szedra exclaimed, her anger fueling her movements as she marched towards Lanse and Zack with an audible growl. Zino trailed behind her, leaving Tess to observe the four of them congregating near the concrete structure adorned with handles.
For a moment, Tess averted her gaze from the group, seemingly determined to proceed towards the aisle as if the preceding exchange hadn't occurred. However, as Lanse withdrew his sword from the structure and caught sight of her attempting to slip away, annoyance overcame him, prompting a shout, "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?"
The others turned their attention to Tess, their expressions reflecting a mixture of concern and pleading. Tess hesitated, her resolve wavering.
"Tee, please don't leave!" Zack implored, desperation evident in his voice.
Szedra shook her head, uttering, "I can't tolerate inconsiderate and heartless people," before redirecting her focus away from Tess and resuming the task of retrieving her sword, fueled by a deep-seated anger.
Those words struck a chord within Tess. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, retracing her steps towards the group. A wide grin formed on her face as she approached them. "I was just kidding," she declared, her tone laced with playfulness.
Their disapproving expressions prompted Tess to shift her gaze towards the structure holding the swords, causing her playful smile to fade away. Disregarding Lanse as if he were invisible, she reached out and firmly grasped one of the handles.
She couldn't comprehend why he was behaving as if he were some expert in the ways of the Mid-Sentry. They had all recently turned eighteen, which meant none of them should have had any experience with the Mid-Sentry. Furthermore, each Mid-Sentry had their own unique approach to training and protocols. There was no such thing as a universal Mid-Sentry protocol, as Lanse had claimed.
Fine. She would release her anger by swinging her sword at the metal column. The muscles in her arms tensed as she lifted the weight of the sword, feeling its heft akin to that of three metal desks from her days at the Academy. A small gasp escaped her lips as she managed to rest the base of the sword on the floor, only to be struck by a dreadful realization.
"Oh, crap."
She glanced back towards the aisle, but Lanse, who had now reached his own column, locked eyes with her. Tess instinctively bit her lip, pretending she hadn't noticed. Deep down, she knew that he wouldn't let her carry out her plan, and she was in no condition to fight against him or anyone else.
"Don't even think about it. I know what's going on in that head of yours," Lanse declared aloud, his words directed at her.
Tess feigned ignorance, acting as though she had no idea whom he was addressing. Szedra murmured something about the weight of the swords compared to the one she had worn on her glove, but Tess paid her no mind as she walked past, deliberately dragging the base of her sword against the concrete ground to create as much noise as possible.
Lanse, on the other hand, made no move to strike his column. He stood there, one hand propping up his chin as he immersed himself in deep thought. Tess concluded that he did not possess superhuman strength, or else he would have already begun his task.
With the faces of Sensei and Lanse vividly imagined on her designated column, Tess found herself slightly more motivated than she had anticipated. In her mind, she even entertained the idea of swapping their images with those of the insufferable MS offs from her Academy to make things more interesting.
"This is for all the jerks in the world!" she declared, mustering her strength as she raised the sword, preparing for a forceful swing aimed at the column. However, neither the column nor Tess yielded easily. The energy from her swing rebounded, coursing through every muscle in her arm.
"Aaah!" The intense pain jolted through her, causing her to stagger backward and lose her balance. In her moment of distress, the sword slipped from her grip and crashed into the ground with a resounding thud, the sound echoing through the room. Tess, now lying on her side on the ground, felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
The others, hearing the noise, turned their attention towards Tess, concern replacing any amusement they might have felt. The grim reality settled upon them as they shifted their gaze back to their own swords and then back to the seemingly indestructible column.
Tess, lying flat on her stomach, rolled over to face upwards, her eyes fixed on the immaculate column. "Impossible," she muttered, furrowing her brow. She blinked hard, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the lack of any visible scratch confirmed the column's pristine condition.
The throbbing pain that originated behind both her ears intensified, compelling Tess to look down and instinctively cradle that side of her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to block out any sound. In the depth of her being, she knew what was about to unfold.
Unwanted memories surged forward, assaulting Tess's mind in fragmented and disordered flashes. Like a chaotic mosaic, they bombarded her senses, defying her attempts to suppress them. She raised to knees, desperation etched on her face as she pressed both hands firmly against her temples, hoping to halt the onslaught, but it persisted relentlessly.
Her eyes reluctantly opened, only to be met with a disorienting sight. Instead of the familiar concrete ground, she found herself gazing at a billowing white curtain that danced before a window, revealing the abyss of darkness beyond the grille. Suddenly, five shadowy fingers materialized on the windowsill, blending seamlessly with the night.
In an instant, brilliant orbs of light tore through the fabric of reality, piercing through the white curtain and transforming it into a stark laboratory setting. It was a haunting memory, a glimpse into the clandestine depths of Petra's lab, where countless shelves were lined with tubes marked with a haunting 'X'—all her failed attempts to find a cure.
The scene shifted, presenting a mirror that focused on the right side of Tess's neck. As if commanded by some sinister force, the concealer on her skin melted away like molten lava, exposing the concealed blackened and ashen mark beneath.
Whispers of Jeremy's voice reverberated in her ears, his lips articulating disjointed fragments: "They will hunt us," "We're too far in," "Run and hide." And there, amidst the turmoil, she caught sight of his disheveled blond hair obscuring his face, concealed beneath the shadow. His once handsome visage marred by a swollen, purplish skin, crimson rivulets of blood trailing down his face.
The grotesque hand of the man, the monster, still clung to Jeremy's shirt, a visual anchor for Tess's anger and determination. With her hands curling into tight fists and one foot moving forward, she felt an irrepressible urge to step forward, to confront the horrors that haunted her.