The call came too early, slicing through the pre-dawn quiet of late November. Erica’s voice echoed up the stairs, sharp with impatience. “Boys, don’t make me come up there again!”

  I fought my eyes open, vision blurry against the dim light filtering through the window. Snow was falling outside, muffling the world. Beside me, I could already sense Elijah’s familiar brand of morning irritation radiating from the other bed – a low grumble trapped beneath his blankets. A familiar weariness settled in my bones, but pushing it away was easier than facing Erica’s wrath. A quick, internal jolt of electricity snapped me awake, clearing the fog from my brain.

  We pulled on warm clothes, the chill already seeping into the room, and hurried downstairs. Lydia and Jae-yoon were already by the front door, looking like abandoned statues. Jae-yoon was a dramatic slump against the wall, head lolled back, pretending to sleep standing up. Lydia was a tight ball crouched on the floor, knees pulled to her chest. Her hair, longer now, fell like a dark curtain, hiding her face entirely.

  Elijah, always needing to provoke, shuffled past me and poked Jae-yoon squarely in the forehead.

  "UGH! You're so annoying!" she groaned, swatting weakly at his hand. Elijah, nimble as ever, dodged and returned his finger to the exact same spot. "If you don't stop, I'll break it again," Jae-yoon muttered, the threat lacking its usual heat.

  “So violent,” Elijah mumbled, finally withdrawing. He leaned against the wall beside her, crossed his arms, and promptly shut his eyes, seemingly determined to reclaim his lost sleep.

  Not wanting to get drawn into their usual squabble, I slipped on my shoes then sat quietly on the floor beside Lydia, wedging myself between her and Elijah. The mudroom was cold, the silence broken only by the faint hiss of the wind outside.

  Then, heavy boots crunched on the porch snow, followed by three sharp knocks that seemed to rattle the doorframe.

  “Who is it?” Jae-yoon called out, voice still thick with sleep.

  An even louder BANG! answered her, making Lydia jolt beside me. She lifted her head, hair still obscuring her eyes, and glared groggily at the door. I had to bite back a laugh.

  “You look like Elijah,” I whispered.

  Her glare intensified, but the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement.

  “WHO IS IT!” Jae-yoon barked, pounding a fist against the door in retaliation.

  “It’s Ian!” the voice outside snapped back, firm and unyielding. “Now open the door.”

  A flicker of guilt crossed Jae-yoon's face. She fumbled with the latch and pulled the door open. A blast of frigid air swept through the mudroom, carrying the scent of snow and pine. Ian stepped inside, dusting flakes from his dark coat, his expression unreadable as he shut the door against the cold.

  “You’re late,” Erica called, her voice carrying from the study.

  Ian glanced towards Elijah, a questioning look on his face – What’s she been up to? Elijah just shrugged, his eyes still closed.

  Ian ignored him, raising his voice slightly. “I called five times, Erica. We were setting up outside.”

  That seemed to get her attention. Her own heavy boots echoed on the floorboards as she emerged into the foyer. She looked… tired. More than usual. Her face was slightly flushed, strands of hair stuck to her damp forehead. For a fleeting second, Ian’s usual stern expression softened into something unreadable – concern? Pity? – before he gave a curt nod.

  “Oh. Well, glad you’re here now,” Erica said, regaining her composure. “Are the others outside too?”

  “They are.”

  “Perfect!” Erica clapped her hands together. “Boys, girls, go out back with Ian. We have special plans for you today.”

  I pushed myself up, my legs tingling from sitting awkwardly. Elijah offered Lydia a hand, pulling her to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, shaking her head to clear the sleep – and her hair from her eyes.

  “Alright, you guys are too slow. I'll get there first,” I challenged, starting towards the back door at a moderate pace. A glance behind showed Jae-yoon already coiled, ready to sprint. That was all the invitation I needed. I broke into a run, the floorboards creaking beneath my shoes. Jae-yoon was taller now, her longer legs eating up the distance, but I reached the back door handle a split second before her, yanking it open and stepping out into the biting cold.

  “Congratulations. You won the race into the freezing cold,” Ian sneered from behind me as the icy air slapped my face, instantly reddening my cheeks.

  I ignored him, my attention caught by the scene outside. The backyard, usually just an expanse of grass leading to the woods, was transformed. Several metal targets glinted dully against the fresh layer of snow, set up at varying distances. Strange equipment I didn’t recognize sat near the edge of the forest line. Standing near Ian were two familiar figures – agents who usually just dropped off supplies. Today, they watched us with an unnerving stillness.

  Ian stepped onto the back porch, positioning himself between us and the setup. Amber and Cyrus stood flanking him.

  “Today,” Ian began, his voice formal, “we’re going to test your abilities. See what you’re really capable of.”

  “You hear that, Elijah?” Jae-yoon whispered beside me, nudging my arm. “Time to show everyone how cool you are.” Her tone dripped with mockery.

  "Shut up," Elijah retorted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You're just jealous. All you do is blow hot air, literally." He stuck his tongue out childishly.

  "Children, enough," Erica sighed, stepping out onto the porch behind us, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold. “Let Ian finish, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they mumbled in near unison.

  Ian continued, unfazed. “As I was saying. We test you today. But since your abilities are diverse, we’ve brought specialists. Friends of ours to help guide each of you. I want you to meet Amber,” – she gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, her pale skin stark against her reddish-brown hair, green eyes watchful – “and Cyrus.” He was tall, easily Ian’s height, with rugged Hispanic and Native American features framed by messy brown hair. He offered a patient, quiet smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “You know them from supply runs,” Ian said. “But what you probably don’t know is that we are also Unveiled. Just like you.”

  The air seemed to crackle with the revelation. UAD agents… Unveiled? We knew it abstractly, but seeing them, the ones who brought us games and food, suddenly recast in this light… it felt different. Significant.

  “As Agents for the UAD, the four of us will each mentor one of you,” Ian stated, adopting the tone of a drill sergeant. “Chosen based on personality profile and ability type. Our goal is to prepare you for the Citadel, far ahead of schedule. Get you ready faster, make you stronger than your peers. When I call your name and your mentor, you go to them. Understood?”

  Jae-yoon’s hand shot up, stretching high as if she could physically pull an answer from the cold air.

  “Yes, Jae-yoon?” Ian asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  “How are we each getting a mentor? There are only three of you agents, and four of us,” she asked, smugness evident in her tone.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  A snide smile touched Ian’s lips. “An excellent question. You should be very happy to know, Jae-yoon, that Ms. Erica will be your mentor. As she, too, is Unveiled.”

  My head snapped towards Erica. Her? All this time, her calmness, her quiet authority… she had powers? She acted so… normal.

  "WHAT?!" Jae-yoon exclaimed, her jaw dropping. Defeated, she trudged over to Erica, who was now laughing softly.

  "Surprised?" Erica asked, ruffling Jae-yoon’s hair as she arrived. "It's only natural I'd get in on the fun, isn't it?”

  Ian cleared his throat, regaining control. “Lydia, you’re with Agent Amber.” Lydia nodded silently and walked obediently towards the woman with the quiet intensity and the hint of a British accent in her earlier greeting. “Elijah, you’re with me. And Kaiden, you’re with Agent Cyrus.”

  Elijah offered little reaction beyond a slight lift of his chin, maintaining his air of disinterest as he walked towards Ian. I met Cyrus’s patient gaze and walked towards him.

  “You’ve been behaving, Elijah?” Ian asked dryly as they met.

  “Of course,” Elijah replied, flashing a smile that didn’t fool anyone.

  “Don’t lie,” Lydia murmured, just loud enough for us to hear. I stifled a chuckle.

  “Ready to get started, Kaiden?” Cyrus asked, his voice calm as I reached him.

  “Yes, sir,” I answered, returning his quiet smile, though a knot of nervousness tightened in my stomach.

  Once paired, the testing began. Elijah went first.

  "Hit each target however you can, Elijah," Ian instructed, standing slightly behind him. Four metal silhouettes stood staggered across the snowy yard: five yards, ten, twenty-five, fifty. Up close, fifty yards looked impossibly far. “Start whenever you—”

  Elijah didn’t wait. Hand outstretched, the first target crumpled inward like a discarded soda can, the sound sharp in the cold air. The ten-yard target followed suit almost instantly. He focused on the twenty-five-yarder, his hand visibly trembling now. The metal groaned, resisting, then slowly buckled under the invisible pressure. Elijah’s face flushed with effort. He finally crushed it, letting out a ragged breath and momentarily bracing his hands on his knees. He was struggling, yet he immediately raised his hand again, straining towards the fifty-yard target. Nothing happened. The distant metal remained untouched, mocking his effort.

  “UGH! I can’t reach it!” he finally grit out, dropping his hand in frustration.

  “No worries. Three out of four is a solid start. Good work,” Ian commended, though his tone was flat. Elijah walked back, shoulders slumped slightly. “Lydia, you’re next.”

  Amber quickly replaced the mangled targets with fresh ones, her movements efficient, before taking position behind Lydia. Lydia stepped up, raised her hand like Elijah, but hers began to glow with a brilliant, pure white light. Faster than I could track, a spike of solidified light embedded itself in the first target with a faint thwack. Then the second, third, and fourth, each hit precise, seemingly effortless. Her power was incredibly fast, almost invisible in transit.

  “Very nice, Lydia!” Amber praised warmly, a genuine smile gracing her lips. The other mentors clapped softly as Lydia returned, a faint blush on her cheeks.

  “Kaiden, you’re up,” Ian directed.

  The nervousness in my chest intensified. I didn’t want to fail, especially after Lydia’s display. Cyrus had walked out to check the targets Lydia hit; the light spikes had dissolved, leaving the metal unscratched. Accurate, fast, but lacking destructive force. He returned, giving me an encouraging nod as I stepped forward.

  “Alright, Kaiden. Whenever you’re ready,” Ian said.

  Taking a deep breath, I stretched out my hand, reaching inward for that familiar, buzzing core of energy. It surged, tingling, raw power flowing to my fingertips. Focusing on the first target, I opened my eyes and unleashed it – pushing everything I had outwards.

  It wasn't a beam or a bolt; it was chaos. Blue-white electricity exploded from my hand, arcing wildly. Bolts slammed into the snow-covered ground, struck nearby trees, and enveloped the first two targets in a shower of sparks. The air filled with the sharp smell of ozone and the deafening crackle of raw power. Pushing harder, ignoring the drain, I felt the energy leap from the second target to the third. I tried to force it to the fourth, but the distance was too great, the energy dissipating, exhaustion hitting me like a physical blow.

  I dropped my hand, the crackling ceased, and I collapsed to my knees, gasping for breath. Looking back, I saw everyone – mentors and kids alike – with their hands clamped over their ears. I hadn’t realized how loud it had been.

  “Um… Nicely done, Kaiden,” Ian offered, though he looked slightly stunned.

  Turning back, I saw the wooden posts holding the targets were now smoldering, small fires licking at the dry brush nearby despite the snow. Cyrus walked calmly towards the flames, waved a hand, and they snuffed out instantly, leaving only trails of smoke and the acrid smell of burning. The targets themselves, though scorched, were intact. My power was destructive, chaotic, and wildly inaccurate.

  “Last but not least. Jae-yoon, your turn,” Ian directed as Cyrus returned and I staggered back to his side.

  Jae-yoon stepped forward with her usual confidence. Stretching out both hands, palms facing the targets, she pushed. It wasn't a visible blast, more like a ripple in the air, accompanied by a sharp, piercing shink sound, like a blade cutting wind. The ripple washed over the first three targets, visibly distorting the air around them before fading just short of the fourth. At first glance, like Lydia’s attack, it seemed to do nothing.

  "Ha! Is that all?" Elijah jeered immediately. "I told you I was stronger!"

  Erica chuckled softly. "Elijah, I think you might want to look again."

  We turned back to the targets. Slowly, almost unnervingly, the top halves of the first three metal silhouettes began to slide sideways, then dropped with heavy clangs onto the snow, severed cleanly in half. One invisible attack, three targets sliced through.

  Jae-yoon smirked at Elijah. “Says the boy who looked constipated trying to crush tin cans.” Erica actually laughed aloud this time.

  Ian shot them both an annoyed look. "Don't worry, Elijah. I’ll train you. You’ll be the strongest," he said, his voice tight.

  “Oh, is that so?” Amber interjected smoothly, her British accent clear. “Lydia here hit every target. I think we know who the real star is.”

  “But she didn’t exactly damage them, did she?” Cyrus countered, defending me indirectly.

  "Oh, please," Amber retorted, gesturing towards the scorched ground. "Your boy nearly burned down the forest trying to hit the broad side of a barn!"

  I instinctively shrank back as the mentors started bickering, their professional facades cracking.

  “Ignore her, Kaiden,” Cyrus muttered, leaning closer. “She’s just a high-strung Brit.” It wasn’t quite a whisper; Amber clearly heard him and shot him a glare.

  It was almost funny, seeing them act like us kids, but the undercurrent of real tension was palpable.

  "Alright! Enough!" Ian’s voice boomed, cutting through the banter. This time, it wasn't just loud; it carried weight, pressure. I felt it press down on me, making my muscles lock, the air thick and hard to breathe. "Right now," he continued, his voice resonating with power, making my bones vibrate, "you are all weak."

  My body froze completely. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink. Panic clawed at my throat.

  “Weakness is a chain,” Cyrus picked up, his voice cold as he began to circle around us, his steps silent on the snow. “It holds you back. We will train you until every single chain is broken.”

  “You will bleed,” Amber added, her voice sharp, her eyes scanning each of us as she moved opposite Cyrus. Lydia was frozen too, her eyes wide with terror. Jae-yoon and Elijah were similarly statues. “You will sweat. You will cry.”

  Ian raised a finger, and with an invisible flick, the four of us were spun around, forced to face each other in a wide, terrifying square. We were puppets on their strings.

  “And by the end,” Amber finished, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper, “you will never need to bleed, or cry, or sweat in fear again.”

  As they completed their circle, stepping into the space between us, Erica walked calmly into the very center. She surveyed us, her earlier warmth gone, replaced by an unnerving pride. A gentle, chilling smile touched her lips.

  “Once we are finished with you,” she declared, her voice soft but carrying absolute authority, “you will be Forever Unbound.”

  The weight of their power, their words, crushed down on me.

  “We begin immediately,” Ian announced casually, as if we weren’t paralyzed statues. “Starting with a run.” My eyes burned, unable to blink away the strain.

  With a sharp snap of Ian’s fingers, the pressure vanished. Sensation rushed back, and my knees buckled instantly. I hit the snow on my hands and knees, gasping, my limbs feeling like useless jelly.

  “What did you do to us?!” It was Lydia who screamed it, tears streaming down her face as she glared furiously at Amber.

  Amber simply placed a firm hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “You can cry after the run. Let’s go.” With a nudge, Lydia stumbled forward, her legs barely cooperating. Cyrus gave me a similar shove.

  We ran. Ten kilometers through the snowy woods and back. By the time we staggered back to the Greenhouse, utterly spent, I collapsed face-first into the snow, every muscle screaming, my lungs burning.

  That day marked the beginning. The tests were over; the real training had begun. Weeks turned into months. Our mentors pushed us relentlessly. Cyrus, despite his quiet moments, was intense, unforgiving. He was a fire user, he explained, but understood energy in all its forms. He taught me control, focus, pushing me past limits I didn’t know I had, often through brutal sparring sessions where he never held back, my eight-year-old body be damned. He never coddled, never eased up. The fun moments were rare; mostly, it was hell. He hammered into me the focus: we weren't normal, our future wasn't our own to dream up.

  I remember one evening vividly, early in the new year. Training had left me sprawled on the snow again, the setting sun painting the sky in bruised colors. My back throbbed, freshly scorched by Cyrus’s fire during a “blocking drill.” The phantom pain echoed Gaben’s cigarette burns, a memory that made bile rise in my throat. I shivered, less from cold, more from pain and a simmering hatred for this relentless torment.

  Cyrus walked over, sinking down beside me in the snow. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a snap of his fingers, the flame briefly illuminating his weary, conflicted face. He exhaled a stream of smoke towards the bruised sky.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Kaiden?” he asked, his voice low, almost cold.

  “Because I’m cursed?” I groaned, the words scraping past the pain. My healing factor was already knitting the burned skin, but it felt agonizingly slow.

  A flicker of something – guilt? – crossed his face. “You’re not cursed, boy,” he said quietly. “You suffer because you are blessed.”

  “If this is blessed, I’d rather be cursed,” I spat, trying to push myself up. Pain lanced through my back, forcing me down again with a choked groan.

  “This world is full of people like us,” Cyrus continued, staring at the mountains. “But not all Unveiled are the same. Most of us… our core, where the power comes from… it has limits. A set amount of energy it can produce.” He turned his gaze to me, his eyes heavy. “For you, Elijah, Jae-yoon, Lydia… it’s different.”

  “Yeah, I get it. We’re special,” I said mockingly, trying to stay still, focusing on breathing through the ache.

  “You are,” Cyrus stated firmly, his voice regaining its edge. “Because unlike the rest of us, your energy output isn’t fixed. It keeps growing. It will never stop growing, Kaiden, for your entire life.” His expression was serious, intense, tinged with that same unreadable emotion I couldn’t place. Fear? Awe?

  “So what?!” I yelled, anger finally boiling over, overriding the pain. The effort strained my back, causing another wave of agony. “What does any of that even matter!”

  Cyrus stood, looming over me, his shadow falling across my face. His pity was almost worse than his harshness. “What do you think would happen, Kaiden, if the Veils knew what you truly are? What all of you truly are?”

  "I..." The word died in my throat. I had no answer, only a rising tide of fear.

  "You're here because out there," his voice was sharp now, slicing through my anger, leaving only cold dread, "you would be hunted. Captured. Dissected. Or killed outright. The same goes for your brother and sisters here. This training, this hell... it's the only thing keeping you alive. The only thing that will keep you alive."

  “You don't even care about us… You're just using us,” I shot back, my eyes now starting to well up with tears as the frustration clashed inside of me.

  "Yeah, you're right… We are using you," he started slowly as he lowered himself and sat in the snow beside me again, the cigarette smoke curling around his face. “Because it's either we use you and create a better life for Unveiled everywhere, or the Veiled either kill you, or use you to make life even more miserable for Unveiled everywhere.”

  “So what if I die…” I said quietly, staring now at the fiery bloom of the sun as it set over the mountain ridge, painting the snow in shades of orange and purple. “I have nothing, I want nothing…”

  “Strength isn't just about power, Kaiden… It's about choice.” Cyrus's voice hung heavy over the clearing for a moment, making me feel crushed under the weight of his words. "You think you're weak because you feel lost? Because you have nothing? But you're still here, you're still breathing and fighting. That's strength."

  I clenched my jaw as tears streamed down my face, freezing almost instantly on my skin. My head now hurt more than my back, so much so that I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. But at least the raw agony in my back had faded, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache. I could've gotten up, pushed myself off the cold ground. Instead, I just chose to sit there, watching the last sliver of the sun disappear behind the peaks, the weight of Cyrus's words settling heavy in my chest. Strength wasn't power, it was choice. And right now, my only choice seemed to be enduring this hell, day after grueling day.