The next day, Sage quickly entered his dormitory unit and locked the door. He hoped to conceal his questionable absence from Kilo and Nyota.
Unfortunately, they would have watched the entire sequence play out right before their eyes.
He turned around to see both Kilo and Nyota peering at him.
Nyota stood frozen in place with a comical expression of confusion, suspending his indulgence in a snack in hand.
Kilo, on the other hand, remained seated on the couch with his legs up, lifting only his eyes from his phone screen to peek at Sage.
The television played softly in the background, and an awkward silence grew and remained for a moment longer.
"I know where you've been," Kilo sharply remarked before leaping up on his feet. "You can't fool me this time."
Sage adjusted his glasses, the glare of his frames obscured his eyes. "I just went out for an early morning walk."
"You hear this man?!" Kilo called to Nyota. "He really thinks I'm stupid."
"So," Nyota finally added. "How was the date?"
"It was fine," Sage answered nervously. "We went to a bar, I dropped her off at home, then came back here late into the night."
"Sage, you know I don't sleep. I've been up all night, and you never came back."
Sage stood still, unsure of how to reply. Eventually he thought of a final rebuttal. However, as he raised a hand and opened his mouth to speak, his pending response would instantaneously be rejected by Kilo.
"Sage," he monotoned. "It's the afternoon…"
Sage sighed, trying to hold back a guilty smile. He traveled to the couch where he simply threw his hands in the air as a sign of confession. "Hey…"
Kilo scowled. "You scum."
"Anyway," Nyota clapped his hands together, laughing nervously. "I'm almost done packing for the new apartment."
"Interestingly enough, the new apartment looks just like our 'dorm' now." Sage sighed, signaling air quotes as he spoke.
"This place was never small to begin with."
Nyota replied. "Consider it part of the perks of working for the government, I guess."
"I'm almost done, Kilo still has quite a bit to get done." Sage pointed to his brother, who quickly turned to him and argued.
"I'm getting it done! Why are you always looking for something to complain about?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sage waved him off. "Obviously not soon enough."
Nyota interrupted. "I planned to meet with Jora later, to give him a little update on things."
It had been a couple of weeks since the three met with Noriko, and it had been just shorter a while since they last met with Jora.
"You already know I'm down," Kilo stretched before speaking with a sarcastic tone. "Sage can tell him about his great night out."
Sage forced a sarcastic smile before making his way to his room.
"Yeah, well give me about an hour or two. I'm gonna freshen up and eat something."
--
After a long day of sitting at his usual classroom desk, Jora stood and stretched.
The cadet academic year had long completed, the buildings abandoned for the next season, not a single cadet or fellow instructor in sight.
Despite this, with access to the buildings' keys, Jora would regularly make an appearance in the central cadet campus building.
Where else would he be if not his usual office space? After all, working was his typical pastime.
He glanced through the classroom's large windows that spanned the length of the wall, taking in the sunset's vivid colors.
The orange glow spread over the sky and eclipsed with skyscrapers in the distance, blending with strokes of pink, purple, and deepening shades of blue as the evening drew near.
The light poured into the quiet room, casting shadows across the desks and highlighting the details of Jora's weathered, thoughtful expression.
In this moment of solitude, he found a sense of peace and reflection, grateful for this rare, tranquil pause after the day's routine.
He glanced at the phone on the desk, hesitating. He'd told his mentees about his premonitions, about the end he knew was near. But there was one person he hadn't reached out to—his oldest and closest friend.
With a deep breath, he dialed Doran's number. The line rang and rang. Jora smirked faintly.
Doran was always like this, always caught up in something or playing the part of the untouchable "celebrity."
Finally, the line clicked.
"Hello," came Doran's familiar drawl, laced with the rasp of cigarette smoke.
"Hey," Jora said, forcing an easy tone.
"Jora! Man, it's been too long." Doran sounded genuinely pleased. "What's up? How's it going?"
"Oh, you know... same ol', same ol'," Jora replied, the words feeling hollow even as he said them.
"Yeah?" Doran's tone shifted, perceptive as always. "What's going on? You don't sound like yourself."
Jora hesitated, staring out the window. The lush green of the courtyard felt like a cruel joke against the weight he carried. "I—uh..." He trailed off, fumbling for the right words.
"Spit it out, man," Doran prompted.
Jora chuckled weakly. "It's nothing, really. Just… this work, you know? It gets to you after a while."
Doran exhaled audibly, a sound halfway between agreement and resignation. "Tell me about it. But we've been saying that for years."
"Yeah, but... it's different now. The kids—Nyota, Sage, Kilo—they've been a handful, but watching them grow? It's been... everything. Makes all of this feel worth it, you know?"
"Those kids are lucky to have you," Doran said softly.
Jora nodded to himself, though Doran couldn't see. "Still, this job... the things we've seen, the things we've done. It's hard to keep going. You remember when we used to talk about turning this place on its head? About doing something good for once?"
Doran laughed, a nostalgic warmth in his voice. "How could I forget? We were so damn idealistic back then. Thought we could fix the world if we just worked hard enough. Used to dream about running Noriko ourselves, making it better for everyone."
"Yeah," Jora said wistfully. "Those were the days, huh? Back when we thought anything was possible."
"They were," Doran agreed. "And hell, we've made some good memories since then. Remember Almon Sector? That disaster of a mission?"
"Oh, gods," Jora groaned, laughing despite himself. "I still can't believe we made it out of that one."
"Barely," Doran added, his laugh fading into a thoughtful silence. "We've been through a lot, man. And we're still young. There's time to turn things around, you know? Time to make those dreams real."
Jora's stomach sank. He looked around the empty room, the silence pressing down on him like a physical weight.
Finally, he spoke.
"Doran… I don't think I've got much time—"
"You don't have to say it," Doran interrupted, his voice steady but heavy with understanding. His breath hitched, but he quickly recovered.
"What do you mean?" Jora asked, his tone soft.
"You don't have to say it," Doran repeated. "I know you, Jora. You wouldn't call me like this unless it was serious. You've got that tone in your voice—the one you always get when you're trying to say goodbye without actually saying it."
Jora exhaled sharply, his silence confirmation enough.
"It's those kids, isn't it?" Doran pressed. "Nyota and the brothers. You've vetted them."
Jora nodded again, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Yeah. I just… I hope it's enough."
Doran was quiet for a long moment. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and resolute. "You've always done what's right, Jora. Even when it cost you. If this is what you have to do… I'll make sure it wasn't in vain."
"Thanks," Jora said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Always," Doran replied. "You're like my brother. And if this really is the end... I'll keep fighting for what we believed in. I promise. I'll always remember, if this operation gets far, it's because of you."
Jora closed his eyes, letting Doran's words wash over him. For the first time in days, the crushing weight on his chest eased, if only a little.
"Take care of yourself, Doran," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You too, brother," Doran replied, his tone soft but firm. "And if you can... call me again, yeah?"
"Yeah," Jora murmured, though he knew it was a promise he couldn't keep. He ended the call and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
The silence of the campus enveloped him once more, but this time, it felt less like a burden and more like a quiet acceptance. For a moment, Jora closed his eyes and let himself drift, knowing his time was drawing near.
Eventually, he retired from the classroom and turned off the lights behind him, making his way down the hallway to exit the building.
As he exited, he locked the building doors behind him. Just as he twisted the key, he heard it—a voice, mockingly calling his name, low and unmistakable, from somewhere behind.
"Jora Newman!"
Jora's whole body froze, shoulders tense, fingers still clutching the key. The air around him suddenly felt heavy, thick with an inexplicable weight.
A chill traced its way down his spine, and his breath hitched, caught somewhere between surprise and fear.
He didn't dare turn, as if somehow, staying perfectly still might render him invisible.
The seconds stretched out, each heartbeat louder than the last, the voice lingering in his mind like a specter daring him to respond.
"C'mon! Don't be afraid. I just came to chat."
It was Elwin, his arms snidely lifted in greeting. He stood alone at the center of the building's outdoor garden court, not another person in sight.
Uncertain, Jora turned slowly. He gathered his nerves, inhaling and exhaling deeply before making his way down the building's small flight of concrete steps.
"Elwin," he swallowed.
Elwin let out a slight chuckle. "Let's cut to the chase, we both know why I'm here."
"Are you sure you want to do this? There could be witnesses."
"Ah, that's already been taken care of," Elwin stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Besides, I have questions."
"And you expect answers." Mirroring Elwin, Jora too, rested his arms. "Well, that bit comes as news to me. What is it you have against me?"
Elwin rolled his eyes. "C'mon now, the jig is up! You're not fooling anybody. I've been on your case for a while now."
Jora became startled. His heart raced faster. Attempting to conceal himself, he asked, "And for what reason?"
Elwin paused, reflecting on his contempt. His contempt toward the idea of resistance against the government.
Toward any and everything that sought to oppose Noriko.
Toward that one cadet turned agent, the one Noriko had become so fond of: Nyota.
"Simply put, anything opposed to the Director is meant to be exterminated.
The Director herself is aware of your transgressions. She's left it up to me to nip things in the bud.
I'm giving the kids a chance, though reluctantly. It was Noriko's decision, not mine.
If it were up to me, they'd all be long gone by now, but she sees something in them that she could put to good use, apparently.
Especially that Nyota kid. I'm sure it's going to come back and bite me in the ass. I just don't understand." Elwin massaged the temple of his head.
"What do you and that precognition of yours see in these kids? What is it that you see that you're not sharing?"
Jora closed his eyes and smiled before letting out a slight chuckle. "Even if there was something special about them that I knew of, why would I tell you?
Besides, we both know that's not how my ability works. It's a short-term thing."
"That's right," Elwin nodded before looking to the ground and sucking his teeth, a single hand remained jammed in a pocket as he stood stiffly.
His eyes were sharp, darting, as though searching for the slightest provocation.
"But you have hunches, don't you?"
"Let's be serious," Jora lifted his arms. "My 'hunches' are just that: hunches. Nothing more, nothing less." He hoped the deceit would be sufficient enough to derail Elwin's suspicions.
Elwin dropped and shook his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
He swiftly lifted a hand, and his Modus passively activated.
It surrounded him with a single, luminous orb-shaped aura, encapsulating him in a sphere of shimmering energy.
The aura's surface glowed with a soft, undulating light—pale silver and deep azure blending seamlessly, like moonlight on water's surface.
Within this sphere, faint currents of energy swirled and spiraled, casting delicate, shifting patterns across his face and clothing.
"You've always been a pain in the ass, Jora. Time to die."
Jora's breath caught as he took in the sight of Elwin, surrounded by the spectral orb of pulsing energy.
The aura around Elwin was alive with a crackling intensity that sent tremors through the air and seemed to warp the very light around it.
Jora's pulse quickened, and a chill crept through him, the kind that came only when one sensed the presence of true, unrestrained power.
He tried to steady himself, but his gaze was drawn to the orb's swirling depths, its vigor contrasting almost exactly with Elwin's mocking grin.
"Now, now," Jora nervously chuckled. He took a step back, his heart pounding with a rising dread. "That's overkill, isn't it?"
"There's no reasoning with him," he realized, a sudden heaviness settling over him. "And it's no use fighting back. This… it's inevitable."
Elwin shook his head. "It isn't nearly enough for what you deserve.
As a matter of fact, actually, you're right!" He tamed his Modus before promptly drawing a handgun and pointing it at Jora.
"You're not even worth my power."
Unsure of what to do, Jora closed his eyes, calming his nerves, and surrendered.
"I guess you're right. Do what you will."
"That's right, Newman! Let the inevitable happen. Look at you, you wretch! What kind of man are you, huh?!
You won't even put up a fight. I can't believe I even once had respect for you."
"In these final moments, I take a breath," Jora began to plead aloud. "To the gods, I humbly lament."
"You're free to pray to your gods now, but they can't save you."
In the midst of Elwin's continued monologue, Jora began to recite his prayer to himself.
"Thank you for this life. Every lesson, every joy, every struggle has shaped me.
I think of my three young mentees: Nyota Atar, Sage Hikari, and Kilo Hikari.
All I ask, is that you continue to watch over my boys, for I am certain they've been chosen for a higher purpose.
And in the slight instance in which I am wrong, let my spirit stay with them as they navigate their paths. Please, keep them safe.
They're still finding their way in a world full of chaos. I ask that you give them the strength and wisdom to make good choices.
As I face this darkness, I'm filled with uncertainty. But I trust you'll protect them.
Thank you for everything. I am humbled and glad that I could be a part of this plan for universal justice."
With Jora showing no resistance, Elwin looked down the iron sights of his handgun, aligning its hefty barrel with the center of Jora's chest.
"Night, night."
--
Nyota, Sage and Kilo continued to make their way to the central campus building in search of Jora.
They'd just gotten off a bus and decided to walk the rest of the way.
The night had drawn near with the sun having nearly completely set.
"You think Jora's gonna lecture us about moving into a bigger place?" Kilo asked.
Sage nodded. "He'll call it 'excessive,' even if it's nearly identical."
"Yeah," Nyota smiled. "He'll still have something to say, though. You know he can't resist."
Kilo added, grinning. "He'll probably tell us we're stuck in our 'comfort zone' or whatever. Or that we're overdoing it, leaving behind our 'roots.'"
"It's simple." Sage adjusted his glasses. "We'll just remind him he was the one who taught us how to make our own space, wherever we are."
"Exactly! It's a step up, but…" Nyota concluded, "We earned it."
The three paused, sharing a look—each of them feeling the bittersweet pride of how far they'd come, aware of how much Jora would understand.
Kilo wondered, "Think he'll want to keep visiting us there, just to check in?"
Sage chuckled. "As long as he doesn't make it an inspection."
"He'll probably inspect anyway…" Nyota trailed. "But yeah, he'll be there."
For a moment, the three fell silent, a rare stillness settling over their usual banter. A shared look passed between them—something unspoken, yet deeply understood.
They all knew what this new apartment would entail, how it would be a step forward from the old dorm, yet still held the familiarity of the life Jora taught them to navigate.
There was pride in their eyes, a small sense of satisfaction in the path they had carved for themselves, even if Jora would only see it from a distance someday.
Nyota and the brothers continued their walk, covering the relatively short distance, until a sudden, sharp crack split the air— a gunshot, unmistakable.
The sound froze them in place, each face went pale as their eyes widened in shock.
The easy conversation and laughter vanished instantly, replaced by a heavy, chilling silence.
Sage's jaw tightened, Kilo's grin faded, and Nyota's gaze sharpened, all of them turning instinctively toward the direction of the sound.
The realization hit them in waves, an icy dread pooling in their stomachs as they understood exactly where the shot came from.
"Was that—?"
"It came from Jora's direction!" Sage inferred and ran toward the gunshot. "We've gotta move, now! Hurry!"
Without a second thought, Nyota and Kilo swiftly hustled after Sage. Nyota felt a light sensation in his chest, one that left a nagging sensation of anxiety.
"No, no, no… Not this soon!" Nyota pleaded to himself. As he ran, his Modus Operandi came alive, blue static flashing all around his limbs and torso.
"Jora, I swear…"
--
Gleefully, Elwin lowered his weapon, looking ahead at the horrifying display he had created.
A light drizzle started to fall, complimenting the impending evening sky. It progressively grew as time went on.
After his brief moment of overwhelming pride, he realized people were making their way to his location and fled the scene.
He barely managed to disappear before Nyota, Sage, and Kilo arrived at the front of the central campus building.
What met their eyes was a horrific scene, their mentor fallen, inanimate along the concrete passageway.
Nyota and the brothers gasped collectively. Their eyes uncontrollably welled with tears.
"No…"
"Oh, my gods…"
The rain continued to fall.
"Jora!" Nyota called. He quickly ran to Jora's fallen body, Sage and Kilo following close behind.
Nyota knelt down and held Jora in his arms. For a moment, he attempted to resuscitate him, taking his shirt to swaddle his gunshot wound.
"Call for backup!" He shouted, momentarily turning back to Sage and Kilo. Kilo, too, knelt down to Nyota's level while glaring down at the concrete, as to turn away from the sight.
Sage stood tall, though his head hung low, studying the sight of Nyota, his honorary brother, holding their deceased patriarch in his arms.
"No…"
This was all he could conjure.
"Didn't you hear me?! Hurry! We need to block the area off!"
Frozen stiff, Sage willed his way to do as Nyota had commanded, pulling out his phone and explaining the situation as best as he could.
"Jora! Jora, please!" Nyota continued to aid him as best as possible, seemingly to no avail.
Kilo's hanging face remained obscured by the dark of the night's contrast with the overhead streetlamps.
He stared deep into the concrete, memories he shared with Sage, Nyota and Jora raced through his mind.
"What am I doing…?
Haven't I lost enough?!
Gods, I come to you. I know I may not be the best at this prayer thing… But, I need your help."
He tried to gather himself and regulate his breathing, perhaps convince himself that their state of affairs wasn't real.
Ultimately, however, the same tears he'd been fighting fell uncontrollably.
He balled his fists tightly, his Red Flames Modus started to activate.
"I don't know… I know what I want—I want this to go away. Wake me up from this damn fever dream.
I know what I want, but it's taken from me… every single time I try to build it up again."
He finally cried aloud.
"My gods! What are we here for?!?!"
The rain continued to fall.
Rolling thunder started to sound.
Sirens could be heard approaching from a far distance.
Hopeless, Nyota reluctantly gave up trying to resurrect his fallen mentor.
He, too, looked down toward the ground and closed his eyes, reflecting on the situation.
Though his mourning had not concluded, he was suddenly overtaken by a strong anger and a burning passion for vengeance.
"Jora…" he trailed.
"I promise to you… I'll find who did this, and they'll pay…"
Although Nyota's Modus had been activated during the entirety of the situation, it had calmed to an extent; the flicker of his lightning flashed only occasionally.
And it continued to do so, except its color started to change.
Sage concluded the call with local law enforcement, turning around to revisit the deeply disheartening arrangement.
He came closer, bending down momentarily to place his hand on Kilo's shoulder.
Nyota continued. "We're going to fix the District, and those who have committed atrocities—Noriko and anyone else working with her... I'm going to bring them down."
The brothers watched together as Nyota's distinctive azure lightning unmistakably turned silver.
Though it piqued their interests, their attention was much more drawn to Jora's apparent passing, the same event they knew was imminent but dreaded would come.
The rain continued to fall, and the police finally arrived.
Elwin watched from atop the central campus building, observing Nyota, Sage, and Kilo's grief with a smile.
"I'm sure they've learned their lesson."
He focused on Nyota, having witnessed the change in color of his lightning abilities.
"I don't know what it is about that kid. I don't care what Noriko claims. He'll never be good enough to climb the ranks, let alone to rival me."
Gently, he shook his head.
"He'll never have what it takes."
After one final survey, Elwin departed from the scene.