The morning mist rolled off the Appalachian hills like breath from the earth itself, weaving through the dense trees that surrounded Anika's secluded estate. The air was cool and laced with birdsong, but inside the mansion, it was still.
Jor'Danna stirred beneath the linen sheets, the early sunlight cast golden slats across her face through tall, uncovered windows. She sat up slowly, her soft curls spilling over her shoulders, and blinked away the remnants of restless dreams. The bedroom Anika had given her was far too big for comfort. Elegant, yes. Crystal knobs, velvet curtains, old astrology books stacked near the fireplace, but it made her feel small. Like a guest in someone else's memory.
She stretched and stood, the wooden floor cool beneath her bare feet. That's when she noticed it, a folded note, propped neatly on the nightstand.
She unfolded it:
Got an intense signature reading in Oklahoma. I'll be back soon. Use my credit card for clothes, accessories, anything you two may need. Stay safe. Lay low. Call me if you need anything. —Dr. Anika.
She set the note down and turned toward the door
Then it hit.
A sharp cry echoed down the hall.
"NO! get off! GET OUTTA MY HEAD!"
Her heart dropped.
"Brevin!"
Jor'Danna ran barefoot through the dimly lit corridor, her pulse spiking. The heavy wood door to Brevin's guest room was already slightly ajar. She shoved it open.
Brevin thrashed on the bed, caught in some nightmare, drenched in sweat. His jaw clenched, fists balled at his sides. The veins in his arms looked like they were pulsing with something darker than fear.
"No, no, I said STOP!"
"Brevin!" she rushed to his side, kneeling beside the bed. "Wake up! hey, you're safe! Wake up!"
He shot upright with a gasp, chest heaving like he'd surfaced from drowning. His wide, disoriented eyes met hers, but it took him a full breath to realize who she was.
Jor'Danna held her hands up gently. "It's okay. Just me."
Brevin blinked rapidly, then dragged both hands over his face.
"I—I thought I was back in that facility," he muttered hoarsely.
His voice cracked, and his eyes shimmered with rage and guilt.
"I saw their faces again."
Jor'Danna didn't speak. She didn't have to.
She sat on the edge of the bed and placed her hand over his. "You didn't choose that. They stole your freedom and used you like a tool and a weapon. That's not your fault." Jor'Danna said softly.
A moment passed quiet and raw.
"You're not alone anymore," she whispered.
"Thanks for being here for me." He replied."
"So what's the Doctor up too? Did she hear me screaming like a little boy" He asked shamefully.
"She's actually gone." Jor'Danna said.
"Gone?"
"Yeah she left us a note and her credit card," Jor'Danna added.
"She got an energetic alert in Oklahoma, and told us to get what we needed. Clothes, food and stuff. I figured... maybe we go into town for a bit."
Brevin exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smile forming. "Retail therapy during a manhunt? I'm in."
She laughed softly and nudged him. "Come on. You need fresh air."
He nodded, finally rising. "Yeah I do want a good meal today."
The gravel crunched under the tires as Brevin guided Anika's black SUV down the winding forest road that led from the mansion to the main highway. The canopy above was still wet from last night's rain, sunlight filtering through the trees in golden streaks that looked like quiet blessings.
For a while, they said nothing. The silence between them wasn't awkward, it was healing. Heavy, but clean.
Jor'Danna sat with the window cracked, letting the cool breeze run through her curls. She clutched the folded note from Anika in one hand, her mind cycling through too many thoughts to name.
Brevin glanced over. "You okay?"
Jor'Danna hesitated before answering. "Yeah... I just feel overwhelmed."
Her voice was soft, but laced with honesty.
"Everything's been happening so fast," she continued.
Brevin nodded slowly. "Yeah. I get that."
She looked over at him. "Do you?"
He gave a dry chuckle. "Most of my adult life's been a sprint. Facility to facility. City to safe house. I got used to survival being the only goal."
Jor'Danna's gaze dropped to her lap, fingers twisting the hem of her hoodie. "I guess I just miss my life. It was... normal. Predictable. I mean, yeah I knew about my abilities. I always knew something was different about me, but I kept it quiet. Only Khalil and I knew. I still had friends. A routine. A future."
Brevin was quiet for a moment, letting her words sit.
Then he said, "Maybe that's why everything changed."
She glanced back up.
He looked at her, earnest. "You needed a new normal. You deserve a life where you don't have to hide parts of who you are. Where you're not pretending just to be accepted."
That struck her harder than she expected.
Jor'Danna turned her gaze back toward the window, watching the Tennessee hills roll by under the soft morning light. Her reflection looked tired.
She didn't say anything for a moment, but after a breath, she nodded.
"Yeah," she said. "Maybe you're right."
The faded "Welcome to Tennessee" sign passed by in a blur of green and white as Ozias eased his food truck across the state line. A steady beat thrummed from the speakers, classic southern soul, warm with bass and brass. It wasn't loud, but it filled the space like a heartbeat.
He drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel in rhythm, eyes scanning the winding road ahead. Tall pine trees lined both sides of the highway, their tops swaying gently in the breeze.
His gaze softened, unfocusing as the music carried him backward. A memory stirred, warm and sweet.
The house was old but alive. Walls lined with photos, laughter spilling over like wine.
Ozias stood barefoot in a small, worn-down kitchen in Louisiana, stirring a pot of gumbo so fragrant it felt like a hymn. Steam curled from the cast iron skillet, rich with smoked sausage, okra, and cayenne.
His mama sat peeling sweet potatoes at the table, humming softly along to the radio. His dad hollered at the TV from the living room, fists pumping during a Steelers game. In the corner, his grandma sat in her old recliner, slowly braiding the hair of his younger twin sisters, her fingers rhythmic and gentle.
"You gon' burn it if you keep smiling at it like that," his grandpa teased from behind a newspaper.
"I ain't burnin' nothin'," Ozias grinned, never looking up. "I'm just lettin' it feel appreciated."
The room erupted in laughter.
It was love. Pure and simple.
And it would be the last memory he'd ever have of all of them together.
He had no idea that the week he returned to college, a hurricane would rise from the Gulf like an angry god sweeping through his hometown , and taking everything with it. His family. His neighborhood. His roots.
A blaring horn snapped him out of the memory.
He jerked the wheel, swerving just enough to avoid drifting into the next lane. The food truck wobbled, tires squealing slightly.
"Damn," he muttered, heart pounding.
He steadied the wheel with one hand and exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders. The gas light blinked amber on the dash.
"Of course," he sighed. "Alright, alright..."
He veered off the main road toward a nearby city. As he drove up the road he heard a rumbling noise and then he heard a loud booming sound.
He quickly pulled the his food truck over to the side of the road.
He jogged around the truck, eyes already narrowing, and sure enough, the back right tire had gone completely flat. A jagged piece of rusted metal jutted out from the rubber like a middle finger from the universe.
"You've gotta be kidding me." He yelled in frustration.
He opened the storage hatch, rummaging for the jack and tools only to discover that his toolbox was missing. Anger started to overtake him.
"Breathe Ozias, breathe. It's just the devil doing what he does best." He said balling up his fist. "He not gonna win today."
He closed the door with a loud slam and kicked the tire again out of spite.
Across the street, Jor'Danna and Brevin were in Anika's SUV, driving slowly through town in search of shops and food. The windows were down. Wind slid through the car like silk.
Brevin was mid-sentence when Jor'Danna's eyes snapped to the sideview mirror.
"Wait... stop the car," she said.
Brevin looked confused. "What?"
"Stop. Back up."
He did, reluctantly, reversing a few feet.
Jor'Danna leaned forward, squinting.
Across the street, a broad-shouldered man with tied-back locs was aggressively scolding his food truck. He kicked the flat tire again and muttered something under his breath that looked a lot like profanity but sounded like poetry.
She turned to Brevin. "He needs help."
Brevin glanced over. "Are we really doing this?"
"Yes," Jor'Danna said without hesitation.
"What happened to lying low?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Oh hush. We're just helping out," she scuffed, already unbuckling her seatbelt.
Jor'Danna hopped out first, the sunlight catching in her curls as she crossed the asphalt. Brevin followed, slower, his eyes scanning the food truck with casual suspicion.
"Hey!" she called out. "You need help?"
Ozias turned mid-kick, one brow arched in surprise.
Jor'Danna smiled. "Or therapy. I got both."
He gave a half-laugh, still visibly frustrated. "Yes, please. I got a flat, and of course, I don't have the right tools. I was just tryin' to get some gas, and then boom. This."
"Well, we've got tools," she offered, nodding toward their SUV. "Brevin, check the back."
Brevin shot her a look, but went anyway. A few moments later, he returned with a toolbox in hand and handed it over. Together, he and Ozias crouched beside the truck, getting to work on the tire.
Ten minutes and one mild curse storm later, the job was done.
Ozias wiped his hands on a rag and stood, letting out a sigh of relief. "Y'all are lifesavers. Thank you."
He turned toward them with a grateful smile. "Didn't catch your name."
"Jor'Danna," she said, gesturing to herself. "And this is my friend Brevin."
"Well, I appreciate the help, Miss Jor'Danna. I'm Ozias."
"Nice to meet you," she said warmly.
"You know," Ozias continued, "I'd really like to thank y'all properly. I drive this truck around the country promoting my food. It's my living right now. How about I make you something on the house?"
Jor'Danna lit up. "That'd be amazing. We were actually just trying to find somewhere to shop and eat."
"Well then, your stomachs are in for a treat," Ozias grinned. "Soon as I fill this thing up."
"We'll be right behind you," Jor'Danna said, heading back toward the car.
Brevin gave Ozias a nod before following her.
As Ozias pulled the food truck onto the road again, Jor'Danna watched from the passenger seat, something soft and curious stirring in her chest. She didn't know what exactly had shifted, but something about this moment felt... destined.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in Oklahoma, Anika was getting ready to start her search for Sabrina.
The hotel room was modest. Cream walls, outdated carpet, and a window that overlooked a cracked parking lot, but Anika had transformed it into a temporary sanctuary. Crystals lined the windowsill, a portable diffuser puffed gentle vanilla into the air.
She exhaled slowly, allowing the tension in her shoulders to melt. The frequency signature she'd picked up hours ago still pulsed on the tablet strong, radiant, erratic, but data could only tell her so much. What she needed was clarity. Alignment.
Anika turned off the screen, crossed her legs at the foot of the bed, and let her palms rest upward on her knees. The diffuser released another breath of vanilla mist.
Anika grabbed her amethyst necklace and inhaled deeply. The room softened around her. The buzz of the AC faded. The scent of vanilla became wind. She let herself sink.
Then—
Light bloomed behind her closed eyes. Not the kind from the sun. A vision was forming.
It was hazy at first, a sea of flickering flames floating gently in the night. Dozens of candles glowed in delicate vigil, their flames reflected in the glass doors of a campus building. People stood in silence, some holding hands. The air felt thick with mourning.
Then she saw her from behind.
A young woman with long ginger hair, soft waves cascading down a white hoodie. Her aura glowed unmistakably green, pulsing with grief and strength all at once.
Beside her stood another girl, darker-skinned, her hand wrapped tightly around the young woman's fingers, offering quiet support.
Anika's gaze, even in the vision, drifted down to her own wrist.
A digital watch flickered there. 6:22 PM.
The image shimmered once more, then collapsed into a wash of green light. Anika's eyes flew open, her chest rising sharply. The room was quiet again. Earthly. Still.
She grabbed the leather-bound journal beside her and began scribbling in urgent, elegant cursive:
"Candlelight vigil. University campus. Ginger-haired Starseed. Aura: green. Time: 6:22 PM. Strong emotional field. Recent loss."
She set the pen down, fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the page.
"This is where I'll find her," Anika whispered.
She rose, her heart beating steady with purpose.
________
The sound of the black tactical chopper roared preparing for take off. Echo sat alone, fingers steepled beneath her chin.
Her comm earpiece crackled to life.
"Echo, this is General Pitman. Change of plans."
Her eyes opened slowly, the left one glowing faintly with an unnatural red shimmer that pierced through the dim cabin light.
"You're no longer pursuing the targets in Tennessee. They can wait," Cory's voice came through her comm clipped, and cold. "There was an incident last night in Norman, Oklahoma. A party turned violent. High energy spike consistent with a Z-Gene activation. We believe one of them are there in the area."
Echo didn't move. Just blinked once.
"Understood."
"Your new objective is the site of that event. You'll be joined by Reaper once his repairs are complete."
Echo's brow twitched.
"Two of us on one assignment?" she asked, voice low but edged with disbelief.
"Yes. I want no mistakes this time. Use your Sight. Find the girl. And Echo..." Cory's tone dipped.
She tilted her head slightly.
"Yes, sir?"
"Report directly to me. I need to know where she's going."
"Roger."
The chopper's blades roared to life above her. Within seconds, she was airborne headed toward Oklahoma.
Back at the Monroe residence, Sabrina and Zuri had got up and got dressed.
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as Sabrina tied her hoodie, still groggy from sleep.
Downstairs, the muffled voices of her parents filled the house with a low hum.
"Morning," she mumbled as she entered the kitchen.
"Hey, sweetie!" her mom greeted, a concerned warmth in her eyes. "You feeling okay?"
"I'm alright." Sabrina gave a faint smile. "Zuri and I are gonna head out for a bit. There's a candlelight vigil tonight... for Gina. We wanted to go, if that's okay."
Her mom nodded, stepping forward to tuck a strand of hair behind Sabrina's ear.
"Of course, baby. That's beautiful."
Her dad looked up from his coffee. "Just check in every hour. Please."
"We will," the girls said in unison, then slipped out the door.
At the local market, the vibe was casual. Familiar. Comforting. The scent of fresh bread mixed with overly sweet body spray as the girls wandered the aisles.
After snacks, they headed to the candle aisle. Rows of glass jars and wax pillars lined up in every color and scent.
"Wow, this smells like vacation," Zuri said, holding up a Hawaiian Coconut candle.
Sabrina's eyes scanned the shelf, landing on two clean white candles near the bottom. She reached for them just as another hand brushed hers.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," the woman said gently.
Sabrina looked up.
The woman's skin was a warm bronze, her long white locs falling in elegant waves down her back. Golden cuffs wrapped around several strands. She wore rings embedded with crystals and a glowing amethyst pendant that shimmered subtly at her chest.
There was something otherworldly about her, ancient but kind.
"No, you're fine," Sabrina said, stepping back politely. "I was just grabbing these for a vigil tonight."
The woman smiled, her eyes kind but searching. "Same here. For a young girl named Gina?"
"Yeah..." Sabrina blinked. "We were really close to her. You can have this one, we'll share."
The woman placed a hand over her heart. "That's very kind of you. Thank you."
Sabrina smiled, then walked off with Zuri, chatting softly as they scanned for more snacks.
Behind them, the amethyst pendant on Anika's chest began to pulse warm, steady, and intense.
Her hand went instinctively to it.
A flash of her vision struck like lightning across her mind. The hallway. The candlelight. The girl.
It was her.
Anika's breath caught. Her eyes snapped up.
But the girls were already leaving, bags in hand, laughter trailing behind them as the door chimed shut.
Anika stepped forward, but hesitation gripped her.
What would I even say?
"Hi, I think you might be one of the cosmic chosen ones I dreamed about in a vision during a blackout twenty-four years ago." No. That's too much. Too soon.
Anika exhaled slowly, her fingers still gripping the pendant. A cold rush crept through her, not a chill but a warning. They weren't alone in this city. Not anymore. Forces were already in motion. And not all of them were kind.
____________
The abandoned house where the party had been held stood silent and scorched. Police tape flapped lazily in the breeze. Echo stepped over the threshold, boots crunching over shattered glass. Reaper trailed a few feet behind her, silent as smoke, twin obsidian blades crossed over his back.
She knelt in the center of the living room floor, brushing her gloved fingers across the scorched floorboards. The psychic residue was dense here, hot with grief, panic, and power.
Reaper moved back without a word.
Echo closed her eyes. Her body stilled. The shadows in the room lengthened unnaturally, curling toward her hands. A low hum vibrated through the air.
Then—
FLASH.
Laughter. Music. Then screaming. Gunshots. Blood.
She saw the young woman, long ginger hair flying as she tackled the attacker. Her powerful shield pulsing protecting those behind it. She saw another darker skinned woman grabbing a gun, pulling the trigger. The assassin collapsing.
Then the vision tightened like a camera pulled into focus.
Echo's gaze locked onto the ginger-haired woman running toward the back door.
Echo's own body began to tremble. Her heartbeat slowed, and then the girl turned just enough for her face to become visible in profile.
A name formed unbidden in Echo's mind.
Sabrina Monroe.
And right then, Echo's vision snapped out, her breath heaving.
"That fuckin RAT!" Echo snapped.
"What do you mean?" Reaper said.
"It's Sabrina," she muttered, clenching her jaw.
"Lieutenant Monroe's daughter?! No fuckin' way," Reaper snapped, stunned.
Echo narrowed her eyes. "I didn't recognize her at first... but it's definitely her. She's grown up since the last time we saw her at the facility visiting her dad."
Back at her mobile command vehicle, Echo patched into Cory via secure transmission. His face appeared on the screen cold and expectant.
"Report."
She met his eyes with calm precision.
"I've identified the Starseed."
"And?"
"Her name is Sabrina. Lieutenant Monroe's kid."
Cory's expression barely shifted, but his eyes sharpened. "Monroe," he repeated.
Echo gave a single nod.
The silence that followed was like a storm tightening in the distance.
Cory slammed his fingers against the keys, pulling up Sabrina Monroe's records.
Date of Birth: September 12, 2001. 3:00 AM.
"He knew," Cory growled.
"Sir, there's no—"
"He knew." Cory slammed a fist onto his desk.
"We've been compromised from the inside. That bastard's been hiding her right under our noses."
Echo stayed silent, though even she looked mildly unsettled by Cory's rising fury.
"Bring her in," Cory commanded. "Both of them. Sabrina and Monroe. I want answers."
"And the others?" Reaper asked.
"Eliminate anyone who gets in your way."
The screen went black.
As dusk approached, Echo and Reaper zoomed off toward the Monroe residence. When they arrived, two cars were parked in the driveway. The sun dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across the porch.
Echo rang the doorbell.
Lieutenant Monroe's wife answered with a soft smile that quickly dimmed.
"May I help you?" she asked, her tone sharpening.
"Evening," Echo said smoothly. "We're here to speak with your husband. Is he home?"
The smile faded completely. "Who's asking?"
Reaper leaned against the porch column, flashing his teeth. "Just a routine check-in. The General had some questions."
"Lieutenant Monroe stepped out from the kitchen, drying his hands with a dishtowel. His eyes narrowed with concern.
'Hey, honey. I've got it,' he said, stepping forward. His voice was tense.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well, boss sent us," Reaper said with a grin. "He had some questions. About Sabrina. Said he needs you both to come in."
"Why didn't he call me?" Monroe asked, suspicion rising in his voice.
Sensing something was wrong, Mrs. Monroe slipped into the hallway and grabbed her phone. She typed quickly:
Hey honey. Some of your father's colleagues stopped by. I think you and Zuri should hang at the park. You know the one we always talked about in case of a TANGO. Talk soon. ~Love, Mom.
She hit send.
Just as she turned to rejoin her husband, steel flashed.
One of Reaper's obsidian blades plunged into her chest. She gasped just once, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Reaper twisted the blade, slowly, and the life faded from her eyes as he let her crumple to the floor.
Lieutenant Monroe lurched forward in horror, but Echo clamped her hand over his mouth, a second blade driving into his side.
He grunted in pain, knees buckling.
"Take him to the General," Echo ordered. "I'll find out where she is."
Reaper grabbed Monroe by the shoulders, digging his black nails into the skin. The lieutenant screamed, and dark smoke began to rise around them. In a cloud of shadow, they both vanished.
Echo knelt beside the blood slick floor, touching the stained wood where Sabrina had once stood. Her crimson eye began to glow.
"Now where are you, missy..." Echo smiled.
Meanwhile, just a few miles away at the University of Oklahoma, the candlelight vigil was beginning.
Sabrina's phone buzzed. A message from her mom. She glanced at the screen, then locked it and slipped the phone into her pocket.
Zuri stepped beside her, gently lighting the candle in her hands. Tears shimmered in both of their eyes.
Sabrina closed hers, and a single tear traced down her cheek.
Memories flooded in—
Their first meeting, freshman year.
Catching eyes in passing.
Summers spent hanging out, crashing at each other's houses.
Late nights at the park.
Gina holding her after a bad breakup.
Their first kiss outside the movie theater, both of them breathless and unsure, but smiling.
The ache in Sabrina's chest tightened. She opened her eyes and exhaled.
"Goodbye, Gina," she whispered.