The siblings were lost in their momentary reprieve, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten as they indulged in the flickering games of the abandoned shooting range. Laughter echoed through the dusty halls as Amelia and Ronan's digital race reached its climax, with Amelia just barely edging out her brother. Even Nola cracked a small smile as Nachtan, flushed with victory, proudly demonstrated his perfect score again to no one in particular.
But then, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps shattered their fleeting peace.
Amelia froze mid-laugh, her head snapping toward the door. The sound grew louder, a rhythmic pounding that sent vibrations through the floor. Nola stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she whispered, "Cerberal Guards."
The Cerberal Guards were known throughout Abranta and beyond—elite anomalyte users clad in dark, sleek armor that hummed faintly with anomalous energy. Each one was a master of combat, their abilities enhanced by cutting-edge technology. Their reputation was one of relentless efficiency, and wherever they went, chaos followed.
"Scatter," Nola hissed, her voice tight but controlled.
The siblings quickly moved, finding hiding spots among the debris. Nachtan huddled close to Nola, his heart pounding as the footsteps drew closer. The front door of the range crashed open, and the guards stormed in, their armor gleaming in the dim light. They moved with precision, scanning the room with glowing visors, their voices distorted through their helmets.
"Search the area," one barked. "They're here somewhere."
The guards spread out, breaking furniture, toppling old game consoles, and tearing through the space with brutal efficiency. Nola's mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. "Ronan," she whispered, catching his eye from across the room. "Get Leo and teleport out of here. We'll catch up."
Ronan hesitated for a split second but nodded. He slipped over to Leo, who was still dozing, and touched his shoulder. With a faint shimmer, the two vanished, leaving the air around them rippling faintly.
"Good," Nola muttered to herself. But they still needed a way out—and a distraction.
Before she could form a plan, Nachtan suddenly bolted from her side. "Nachtan, no!" Nola hissed, her voice barely audible. "Come back here!"
But Nachtan was already moving, weaving through the shadows with surprising agility. He darted toward the main power panel, his mind working in overdrive. Reaching the exposed wiring, he yanked hard, sparks flying as the lights throughout the building flickered and then went out entirely, plunging the range into darkness.
In the confusion, Nachtan reached into his pockets. His fingers brushed against the scraps he'd taken from Kael's lab days ago: wires, a few odd metallic fragments, and a small, unstable anomaly shard. His hands moved with surprising speed, his mind piecing together a crude but effective decoy grenade. He rigged it quickly, then rolled it across the floor toward the guards.
The grenade exploded in a flash of blinding light and smoke, scattering debris and filling the air with a sharp, acrid smell. The guards shouted in confusion, their visors scrambling to adjust.
Nola didn't waste a second. She sprinted to Nachtan, grabbing him by the arm. "Are you insane?" she whispered furiously, but there was no time for a lecture. She pulled him along, shouting to the others. "Amelia! Gavin! Move!"
Amelia and Gavin burst from their hiding spots, covering Nola and Nachtan as they made their escape. Gavin turned, his hands igniting with flames. He raised his palms, unleashing a wave of fire that spread quickly through the debris, creating a wall of heat and chaos. The guards shouted behind them, their movements slowed by the flames as they attempted to regroup.
The siblings ran, their footsteps echoing through the empty streets as they fled the scene. The night air was sharp and cold, but none of them noticed as they pushed their bodies to the limit. Nachtan stumbled, his foot catching on a loose stone, and he fell hard to the ground.
"Get up!" Amelia hissed, but it was Nola who knelt down, pulling Nachtan to his feet with a gentleness that belied her urgency. "Come on," she said, her voice softer. "We're almost there."
They ran farther, the sounds of pursuit fading as they finally reached a quiet, abandoned alleyway. There, standing with a faint smirk, was Ronan, holding a groggy Leo by the arm. "Took you long enough," Ronan said.
Amelia shot him a glare but said nothing. They continued their journey in silence, sticking to the shadows until the familiar outline of their home loomed ahead. Relief washed over them as they slipped inside, locking the door behind them.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Nola turned to Nachtan, her expression a mixture of anger and exasperation. "What were you thinking?" she asked, but her tone softened. "You... did good. But never do that again."
Nachtan didn't reply, his gaze dropping to the floor. The siblings exchanged wary glances, each of them knowing the truth: it wouldn't end there.
The siblings barely had time to catch their breath before the door creaked open, revealing Silas standing in the doorway. His face, weathered with years of experience and wisdom, softened as he saw them gathered in the dimly lit room.
"You're back earlier than I thought," Silas said, his tone light. "How did it go? Everything alright?"
The siblings exchanged uneasy glances, a shared silence passing between them. Amelia, always quick to take charge, spoke first. "Yeah, everything was fine. We just... got tired and came home early."
Silas narrowed his eyes slightly, but his smile remained. "Good. Glad you stayed out of trouble."
Nachtan stood at the back of the group, silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. Silas's perceptive eyes lingered on him for a moment but moved on without comment.
"Well," Silas said, clapping his hands together, "I have something for all of you. Think of it as a reward for all the hard work you've been putting into your training."
The room perked up, the tension from their earlier escape momentarily forgotten. Silas pulled out a small suitcase and began distributing items with a proud smile.
"Nola," he said, holding out a sleek pair of customized glasses with faintly glowing lenses. "These are for you. I know controlling your omnipresent energy isn't easy, and these will help stabilize your perspective. They should make it easier to focus on one point at a time."
Nola's eyes lit up as she accepted the glasses, her usual composure breaking into a genuine smile. "Thank you, Dad," she said softly, slipping them on and blinking as they adjusted automatically to her anomalyte's energy.
"Gavin," Silas continued, pulling out a pair of intricately designed gauntlets that glimmered faintly with heat-resistant materials. "These are fire-forged gauntlets. They'll help you channel your flames more effectively and protect you from... well, yourself."
Gavin grinned, sliding the gauntlets on. He flexed his fingers, a faint flicker of flame dancing over the reinforced material. "Now, this is what I'm talking about. Thanks, Dad!"
"For Ronan," Silas said, producing a sleek, palm-sized device with a strange glowing symbol etched into it. "A recall marker. Plant this somewhere, and you can teleport back to it instantly. It'll help if you ever find yourself in a sticky situation."
Ronan took the device with a smirk, already imagining all the ways he could use it. "You really know how to spoil us," he said, winking at Silas.
"Leo," Silas said, his tone softer. He held out a simple, compact dream journal with an unassuming design. "You didn't need much, but I thought this might be useful. A place to map out your dreams—or your dimension. It might help you navigate it better."
Leo took the journal with a sleepy smile, nodding in silent gratitude before leaning against a nearby wall.
"And finally, Amelia," Silas said, holding up a set of specialized arm and leg straps. They were reinforced with adaptive materials that shimmered faintly in the light, clearly designed for durability and performance. "These are for your martial arts. They'll enhance your speed and strength while helping you stabilize your anomalyte when you're pushing your limits."
Amelia's eyes lit up as she took the straps, running her fingers over the intricate design. "These are incredible. Thanks, Dad."
Silas's smile faltered slightly as he turned to Nachtan. "Nachtan, I don't have anything for you just yet, but I promise I'm working on it. Something special, just for you."
Nachtan shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "It's fine. I don't need anything."
But deep down, jealousy twisted in his chest. He watched his siblings admire their gifts, their excitement buzzing in the air, and felt like a shadow in the corner of the room. He said nothing, retreating into his thoughts.
The others thanked Silas profusely, and his face glowed with pride. "I'm proud of all of you," he said, his voice warm. "Now, get some rest. You've earned it."
Later that evening, Amelia sat on the porch, staring into the night. The stars seemed dimmer than usual, her thoughts heavy with guilt over their earlier trouble. When Silas stepped outside and joined her, she hesitated before speaking.
"Dad," she began softly, "how do you... how do you stop yourself from messing up? From making decisions you regret?"
Silas regarded her thoughtfully, leaning back against the railing. "That's not an easy question to answer, Amelia," he said. "But maybe I can tell you a story that might help."
Amelia nodded, her curiosity piqued.
"There was once a happy family," Silas began, his voice steady. "A younger brother and an older sister. They were inseparable. The sister was gifted—praised for her skills and her anomalyte. But she had a flaw: her temper. Her pride. People warned her about it, but she didn't listen. She wanted to protect her brother, to keep him safe from everything."
Amelia's brow furrowed, a strange sense of unease settling over her.
"But one day," Silas continued, his tone darkening, "tragedy struck their family. Something happened because of the younger brother—an accident, something he couldn't control. And the sister, well… she lost her temper. She lashed out at him in anger."
"What happened?" Amelia asked quietly.
"She regretted it," Silas said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But by the time she realized it, it was too late. The brother was gone—taken by a darkness beyond understanding. She never saw him again. And for the rest of her life, she carried that regret with her. A reminder that her pride and her anger cost her the person she loved most."
Silas turned to Amelia, his eyes full of quiet intensity. "We all make mistakes, Amelia. The important thing is learning from them. Before they cost you more than you can bear."
Amelia swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the straps on her lap. She nodded, her mind swirling with thoughts and emotions she couldn't yet put into words. Silas placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before heading back inside, leaving her alone with the weight of his story and the lesson it carried.