The training hall's old brass-rimmed Tesla lights buzzed overhead, making Kasper's teeth itch. His nanobots registered the familiar background hum of Level-2 enhancement dampeners - standard safety protocol for training sessions.
Sweat stung his eyes as he watched Sean square off against the combat drone. The metallic taste of recycled air mixed with the sharp ozone tang of overtaxed tech.
Sean's movements were off. His usual fluid grace replaced by something jerky, uncertain. His enhancement frequencies spiked erratically on Kasper's HUD.
Warning: Adjacent Enhancement Pattern Unstable
The training drone feinted left. Sean took the bait - a rookie mistake he hadn't made in months.
"Incoming high!" Kasper's warning came too late.
The drone's strike caught Sean across the jaw. He stumbled, shoulder slamming into one of the art deco pillars. The impact made his tactical enhancement projector spark.
"Hijo de puta!" Sean spat blood onto the training mat. His hands shook as he tried to recalibrate his projector. "Shouldn't have done that..."
"Still telegraphing that left hook like a rookie," Nailah called out, not looking up from her plasma pistol maintenance. A piece of cleaning cloth dangled from her mouth as she squinted at the chamber alignments. Her fingers moved with the precise rhythm of someone fighting off anxiety. "My abuela could see that coming, and she's blind in one eye."
Sean's enhancement frequencies spiked again. The nearby holo-displays flickered in response.
"Yeah?" His voice carried an edge that made Kasper's nanobots tingle with warning. "Your abuela ever lead a team when every decision could get someone killed?"
The words hung heavy in the climate-controlled air. Sean never talked about the burden of command, not directly.
Kasper moved closer, pitching his voice low. "What's really eating at you, hermano?"
Sean's shoulders tensed. His mouth opened, then snapped shut as his tactical link chimed - the distinctive three-tone alert of a security breach.
"Attention all Security Level 3 and above," the academy's AI announced. "Unauthorized enhancement activity detected in Research Lab 7. Containment protocols-"
The message cut off abruptly.
Valerian's aristocratic accent crackled through their encrypted team channel. "Cross just entered the tech wing. Override codes in effect." A pause. "Security feeds are experiencing 'technical difficulties.'"
Nailah's hands stilled on her weapon. "Third 'coincidence' this week. Someone's getting sloppy."
A crash echoed from above, followed by the distinctive whine of malfunctioning quantum tech. The sound made Kasper's enhanced hearing ring.
"Lucas." The name fell from their lips simultaneously.
The training hall's doors burst open. Maria stumbled through, her healing crystals pulsing with chaotic energy. Her usually immaculate uniform was wrinkled, dark curls escaping her regulation braid.
"¡Ese maldito idiota!" The Spanish curse carried raw fear. "I told him the neural interface wasn't ready! The ATA encryption patterns were too complex, but he wouldn't listen!"
Kasper's nanobots surged with alarm. "He tried it alone?"
"No." Maria's mouth twisted. "Sarah was with him. Again."
Sean's tactical link pinged. "Val, status?"
"Cross entered Lab 7 exactly 47 seconds after the breach alert. Sarah arrived" - his voice carried careful neutrality - "approximately 30 seconds before that."
"How interesting," Nailah murmured, sliding her reassembled pistol into its holster. The weapon's safety clicked off.
They moved as one, enhancement frequencies automatically syncing for combat. The hallway blurred past as they ran, other students scattering at their approach.
Level-2 dampeners cycled to Level-3 as they hit the tech wing. Kasper's HUD filled with warning messages:
Enhancement Limitation Protocols Active Combat Systems at 60% Capacity Unauthorized Security Override Detected
"Maria." Sean's command voice cut through the alerts. "What are we walking into?"
She reached out with her healing sense, face scrunching in concentration. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she pushed against the dampening field.
"Neural pathways are-" She stumbled, caught herself against the wall. "Dios mío. Something's wrong. There's tech in there I've never... it's like it's alive."
The medical bay doors loomed ahead. Their usual soft hum replaced by an angry buzz of disrupted systems. The security panel showed an ominous red lock - Level-5 quarantine protocols.
Through the reinforced windows, they saw Lucas. He lay unnaturally still on a diagnostic bed, surrounded by holographic warnings. His neural enhancement implants pulsed with sickly purple light.
Sarah moved around him with practiced efficiency, her movements almost too perfect. But Kasper's enhanced vision caught the micro-expressions - anticipation, not concern.
And there was Cross, watching it all with the satisfied smile of a collector examining a new acquisition. Her own implants hummed at frequencies that shouldn't have been possible under dampening fields.
"Security override accepted," the door's AI announced. "Warning: Enhancement dampeners at critical levels."
"Oh good," Cross purred as they entered. The room's atmosphere shifted, growing thick and heavy. "The cavalry arrives. Right on schedule."
Kasper's nanobots screamed as the dampening field intensified. His vision blurred, enhancement systems struggling to compensate.
Sarah looked up, practiced concern painting her features. But her hands never stopped moving across the medical controls with mechanical precision. "He's stable. The neural feedback almost-"
"Almost gave him exactly the data he was looking for," Cross interrupted. Her implants pulsed with impossible power. "Fascinating approach, Mr. Chen. Using your own neural patterns to decode ATA frequencies?" She smiled. "Almost as fascinating as how quickly our medical officer happened to be on scene. Again."
Sarah's fingers twitched. Just slightly. But Kasper's struggling enhancements caught it - a pattern he'd seen before. In security footage from Mirage City.
A soft chime cut through the tension. Every screen in the medical bay lit up simultaneously.
The message was simple, encoded in a pattern Kasper hadn't seen since that night:
"The Curator sends her regards. Did you really think he worked alone, little brother?"
The signature was Javier's. But the coding structure...
Kasper's gaze snapped to Sarah's too-steady hands, to Cross's satisfied smile. To the way the dampening field seemed to bend around them both.
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity.
"Oh god," he whispered.
Cross's smile widened as her implants shifted to match the exact frequency from his memories of that night. "Now he gets it."
The dampening field surged. Kasper's nanobots went dark.