A muffled voice called to Darius through the darkness, a sound distant and submerged, as if he were hearing it through the thick walls of a dream. Stinging pain coursed through the side of his face, sharp and electric, but it felt removed, dulled like a storm on the far horizon. The world around him seemed to pulse, and then, suddenly, he was surrounded by a warmth so familiar it made his heart ache. His mother’s face, radiant and full of life, smiled down at him. They were in that serene space between reality and memory, where time didn’t exist, and the air was heavy with the scent of cinnamon and comfort.
“Wake up,” she said, her voice soft as a lullaby, fingers brushing his cheek. The warmth of her touch was almost too much to bear, and when she drew him into a deep embrace, he felt his chest shake with the sobs that he had buried for so long. He squeezed her, clinging desperately to the illusion, burying his face into the familiar crook of her neck. The scent of home, of lazy afternoons and safety, filled his lungs, momentarily banishing the terror and exhaustion that had become his constant companions.
“I missed you,” he whispered through the shuddering breath, his voice breaking with emotion, tears streaming unchecked down his face.
She pulled back, her eyes soft with an understanding that pierced him. “Wake up, kid,” she repeated, the words tinged with an edge that didn’t belong to her.
Before Darius could protest, before he could anchor himself in the fragile peace of the dream, pain seared through his face again. His mother’s features began to shift, blurring and then sharpening into the hard lines of Wendigo’s familiar, rugged face.
“Wake up!” Wendigo’s deep voice thundered, snapping him out of the dream and thrusting him back into the dimly lit world of the Anchor & Tide. Reality rushed in like a tidal wave—rough wooden floors under his knees, the faint scent of salt and smoke in the air, and the low hum of murmured voices, hushed and anxious. The room was alive with tension, every shadow seeming to watch and wait.
Blink hovered over him, her eyes narrowed in barely contained fury, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. Wendigo crouched nearby, his expression a mixture of impatience and concern. Darius’s heart pounded in his chest, the dream-memory lingering like a ghost, leaving a raw ache that was all too real.
“Why the fuck did you teleport here like this? What is going on?” Blink demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut. The flush in her cheeks deepened, and Darius could see her hands clenched into fists at her sides, trembling with barely contained energy.
“The Guardians captured me,” Darius managed, his voice raspy and strained, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Exhaustion clung to him, pulling at his limbs and clouding his thoughts. Every muscle ached, the bone-deep weariness pressing him toward unconsciousness. He struggled to stay upright, his vision swimming.
“You were captured?” Blink’s voice climbed an octave, the anger flaring into something almost panicked. “And you teleported here? What if they’re tracking you? You could have led them straight to us! You might have just killed us all!”
The words sliced into Darius, guilt and dread mixing in his gut like poison. He opened his mouth to respond, but Wendigo cut in, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.
“Relax, Blink. He’s clearly terrified and spent. We’ll get him out of here and figure out the details somewhere safer.” Wendigo’s tone held a note of authority that made Blink’s eyes flash, but she bit back her response.
Before Darius could process what was happening, Wendigo’s large hand clamped down on his head, the touch surprisingly steadying. In the same instant, the world shifted around them, a sudden, disorienting pull that left Darius’s stomach lurching. They were somewhere else now, the familiar chaos of the bar replaced by the cold, utilitarian quiet of a room Darius didn’t recognize. But he didn’t have time to take it in; the exhaustion claimed him like a heavy blanket, pulling him into a restless, dreamless sleep.
When he awoke, the first thing Darius noticed was the hardness of the floor beneath him, a stark contrast to the warmth of his earlier vision. The room was dim, the concrete walls unadorned and rough, painted in shadows cast by a single overhead light that buzzed faintly. There were no windows, no natural light, just the cold, unyielding presence of the room and a wrought-iron door that loomed across from him like a silent sentinel. A haphazard stack of metal chairs sat in the corner, their arrangement careless, forgotten. Two chairs had been set apart from the rest—one occupied by Wendigo, who lounged lazily as if he hadn’t a care in the world, the other waiting empty.
Blink paced in front of the chairs, her movements sharp and restless, like a caged animal. The only sound was the rhythmic thump of her boots against the floor, an angry metronome ticking away the seconds.
“Our little ray of sunshine is finally up,” Wendigo drawled, the sarcasm as thick as the exhaustion weighing down Darius’s limbs.
Blink spun on her heel, eyes narrowing as she stalked closer. “What happened to you? Were you tailed? Why, in all the world, would you teleport into our most public outpost?” The questions came in a rapid-fire barrage, each word edged with anger and fear.
Darius opened his mouth to answer, but she didn’t pause long enough for him to speak. Her pacing picked up speed, the tension in her frame palpable.
“Chill, Blink,” Wendigo said, and to Darius’s surprise, she stopped mid-step, the fire in her gaze cooling but not disappearing. She looked torn, distrust etched into the lines of her face.
Darius took a shaky breath, forcing himself upright as the ache in his muscles protested. “The Guardians caught me off guard. I saw Phase yesterday, and then Ash came for me this morning. They did some kind of power level test—apparently, I set some sort of record.” He glanced at Blink, noting the way her brow lifted slightly at that. Wendigo, on the other hand, looked unsurprised, as if he’d expected it all along.
“I managed to escape,” Darius continued, his voice growing steadier as he recounted his use of his proprioceptive ability. He described how he’d mapped out the inhibitor’s field and shorted the circuit breaker to create an opening.
Blink’s eyes narrowed further, her disbelief practically radiating off her. “He’s lying. No one gets out of an inhibitor field like that, especially not a recruit. First the test results, now this? He’s trying to bait us, Wendigo. He’s a trap, sent here to draw us out.”
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Wendigo pushed himself up from his chair, crossing his arms as he considered Darius. “Look at him, Blink. Does he look like someone trying to pull one over on us?” His eyes, dark and calculating, locked onto hers.
Blink glanced at Darius, her gaze flitting over the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion etched into every line of his face. She shook her head, the fight in her posture faltering. “I don’t buy it,” she muttered, but her pacing slowed.
Darius clenched his fists, willing his voice not to shake. “I didn’t teleport out from within the inhibited area. I used my powers just outside it,” he clarified, stretching his sore arms and rolling his shoulders to loosen the knots that had settled there.
Wendigo nodded slowly, the room falling into a tense silence as the weight of what had happened settled over them. “Our timeframe just moved up,” he said, breaking the quiet with a finality that sent a shiver down Darius’s spine. “The Guardians are going to scour New Toronto for you, especially if your test results were as high as you say. After losing Zephyr and Ironclad in the last Breacher attack, they’re desperate to rebuild the Wavecrest team. They won’t let you slip away easily.”
He moved toward Darius, his large frame casting a shadow over him. “We’re pulling the job tonight. We have no other choice. The Guardians will be out in force soon, and if we don’t move now, we lose our window. If you prove yourself tonight, we’ll set you up in New Vancouver, in the Hastings district. They need someone with mobility out there; the gangs are entrenched, and our foothold is slipping.”
Blink’s eyes widened, the flicker of doubt replaced with determination. She glanced at Wendigo, then at Darius. “This is serious, kid. If we’re doing this, there’s no turning back.”
Darius swallowed hard, the reality of it sinking in. This was his path now, tangled and dangerous as it was. He reached out, clasping Wendigo’s outstretched hand, the rough calluses digging into his own. The silent agreement hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises and the shadow of what lay ahead.
“Get some rest,” Wendigo said, his voice a low rumble. “You’ll need every ounce of strength you have. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
Darius sank back onto the couch, the adrenaline ebbing enough for exhaustion to crash over him like a wave. He let his eyes close, the last remnants of consciousness drifting away.
Darius woke on the worn couch, the fabric rough under his fingertips, absorbing the atmosphere of the room as it buzzed with a new kind of energy. Wendigo had left, leaving Darius alone with his thoughts and the weight of what was to come. The silence in the room pressed down on him, broken only by the faint creak of the old building as it settled around him. Each minute that passed felt like a lifetime, the anticipation gnawing at his nerves.
A shuffling of boots on concrete echoed from the corridor, and moments later, Blink stepped into the room, her eyes sharp and calculating. She looked different now—less agitated and more focused, a leader ready to guide her team. Behind her, three figures entered, each bringing with them an air of quiet confidence.
“Darius, meet the team,” Blink said, her voice even but firm. She gestured to the first figure, a lean young man with shaggy brown hair and an easy grin that belied the seriousness in his eyes. “This is Echo. He’s our sound manipulator—scout and intel specialist.”
Echo gave a nod, the corners of his lips quirking up in a faint smile. “So you’re the one with the crazy strong teleportation power? Good to know you’ve got some surprises up your sleeve.”
“Next is Scorn,” Blink continued, motioning to a woman with fierce eyes and a posture that screamed battle readiness. Her auburn hair was tied back in a severe ponytail, and she wore reinforced gloves that Darius could tell weren’t just for show.
“Punch things first, ask questions later,” Scorn said, cracking her knuckles. “You keep us moving, and I’ll keep the bastards off our backs.”
“She has a pretty unique power, she can generate and project intense feelings of guilt, regret, or shame in others. Couple that with her advanced strength and resistance and it’s a pretty deadly powerset.” Blink quickly explained for Darius’ benefit.
Finally, Blink pointed to a tall, quiet figure who seemed almost out of place with his calm demeanor. His dark eyes met Darius’s, a subtle nod of acknowledgment in their depths. “This is Petrichor. His power is hydromancy—control over water and its forms. He’ll be handling the more delicate parts of this mission.”
Petrichor’s voice was smooth, almost soothing, reaching out he shook Darius’ hand. “A pleasure. Let’s hope this goes as smoothly as we’re planning.”
Darius swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their attention shift to him. Each of them had an energy, a presence that spoke of countless missions and moments where failure wasn’t an option. He couldn’t help but wonder how he fit into this seasoned group. Sure, he’d shown potential, but this was real. This was more than practicing in a dojo under Wendigo’s watchful eye or testing limits in the confines of his hotel.
Blink clapped her hands, cutting through the tension like a knife. “All right, let’s go over this one more time. Echo, you’ll scout ahead and keep an ear out for any uninvited guests. Scorn, you’re on defense. If things go sideways, you know what to do. Petrichor, get ready to seal off the area and handle any environmental issues. Darius, you’re on transport—getting us in and out without attracting attention as well as extracting the submersible. You have two jobs today: precision and speed.”
Her eyes met his, unflinching. “We’re counting on you.”
The words hit Darius like a physical blow. He nodded, his throat tight as he took in the seriousness of their expressions. The chatter around the room grew more muted, replaced by the rustle of gear checks and whispered reassurances. Echo was testing a device on his wrist that emitted a low hum, Scorn flexed her fingers in her gloves, and Petrichor held a small flask of water that glowed faintly blue under the light.
Wendigo reentered, his presence commanding instant silence. “You all know what’s at stake. We pull this off, we secure enough resources to keep Dodge afloat for the next year and take a big step in expanding our operations in New Vancouver. Failure isn’t an option.”
He turned to Darius, eyes narrowing as if he could see right through him. “Kid, this is where you prove you belong. Remember what we went over. Don’t force it; feel it and focus on perfecting the angles. You’ve got this.”
The room fell silent, the finality of Wendigo’s words hanging in the air. Darius felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, cold against his skin. His hands clenched at his sides, fingertips brushing the fabric of his jacket. He focused on his breathing, in and out, steadying the rapid drumming of his heart. Wendigo walked over and showed him a map of the location and where they wanted to land. It was a lot for Darius to process under the weight of the eyes around him but once he was shown the location he was confident he could do it.
Echo caught his eye, offering a thumbs-up. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t forget to bring us back.”
“Yeah, kid, don’t screw this up,” Scorn said with a grin that was more reassuring than mocking.
Petrichor merely nodded, a silent show of support that helped settle some of the panic clawing at Darius’s chest.
“Positions,” Blink said, and the team fell into place, ready for the transport.
Darius closed his eyes, the room fading around him as he tapped into the mental map of his power, feeling the spatial threads that connected their current location to their target. The tension was palpable, a silent hum that buzzed against his skin. He folded the space in his mind, willing the points to align, the tunnel to take shape.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice low but steady.
“Ready,” Blink replied.
“First time teleporting other people, here goes nothing.” Darius whispered to himself.
“Wait what?!” Echo said, bewilderment coloring his face.
Darius felt the pull, the power coursing through him, wrapping around the team like a tangible force. Just as the first sensation of disorientation hit, a sudden sound—heavy boots pounding down the hall outside—threatened Darius’s focus.
The door burst open just as the world folded away.