The conference room buzzed with a tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. The friends stood awkwardly in a loose group near the entrance, their eyes darting between the three generals seated at the long metallic table. Jayden stood to the side, his usual smirk replaced with a carefully neutral expression.

Grayson’s eyes kept flicking to General Cutlas Henk, who seemed to radiate authority. His steel-grey hair was cropped close, and his sharp eyes could have been chiselled from stone. To his right sat General Araya Restingam, her piercing green gaze never wavering as she studied them. General Will Hayadi leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips as though he found the whole situation amusing.

“Take a seat,” Henk finally said, his voice low and commanding.

Grayson glanced at his friends. “Uh... sure.” They all shuffled to the far side of the table, hesitantly lowering themselves into the cold, metal chairs.

“I’ll make this brief,” Henk began, steepling his fingers in front of him. “The world as you know it is teetering on the edge of collapse. The war between humans and robots has escalated to a point where survival—of either side—is no longer guaranteed.”

Liam leaned forward slightly, his curiosity clearly piqued. “Okay, but what does that have to do with us?”

Restingam’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Everything. You’ve been given abilities that could shift the balance of power in this war. And make no mistake, that’s exactly what we need.”

Tristan raised a hand tentatively. “So... you’re saying we’re like... superheroes now?”

Hayadi chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. “If only it were that simple, kid. Superheroes save the day without getting their hands dirty. What we’re asking you to do isn’t that clean.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“What exactly are you asking us to do?” Steven asked, his tone cautious.

Henk leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “To put it plainly: we need you to help us eliminate a critical threat. General Crit Rukh, leader of the opposing human faction, has been coordinating attacks against both humans and robots. He’s a wild card—a dangerous one—and he’s disrupting any chance of a truce. If we don’t stop him, this war will become unwinnable for either side.”

Grayson’s stomach churned. He had expected danger, but the idea of taking on a general—another human—wasn’t something he’d prepared for. “You want us to... kill him?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Restingam nodded, her gaze softening slightly. “We know it’s a heavy burden. But the fact remains: your powers give you an advantage no one else has. With proper guidance, you could turn the tide of this war.”

Everett crossed his arms, frowning. “This feels... wrong. We’re kids. You really think we’re ready for something like this?”

“You don’t have a choice,” Henk said bluntly. “The world doesn’t care about your age. It cares about results.”

Liam shot a nervous glance at Grayson. “Yeah, but sending us after some psycho general sounds like a death sentence.”

Hayadi smirked. “That’s why you’ll have us backing you up. This isn’t a solo mission. It’s a coordinated effort, with you as the key players.”

The group exchanged uneasy looks. Even Steven, usually the calm and logical one, looked shaken.

“What happens if we say no?” Grayson asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Henk’s expression darkened. “I wouldn’t recommend it. You’ve already been marked as targets by our enemies. Refusing to fight doesn’t make you safe—it makes you vulnerable.”

Jayden, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “They’re telling the truth. Rukh’s forces already know about you. They’ll come for you whether you like it or not. At least with us, you’ll stand a chance.”

Grayson’s heart pounded as he looked around the table. His friends’ faces mirrored his own turmoil: confusion, fear, and a flicker of determination.

“Think it over,” Restingam said, her voice softer than before. “You don’t have to decide this second. But know this: time is not on our side.”

The generals stood, their chairs scraping against the floor. Without another word, they left the room, leaving the group to grapple with their decision.

~ ~ ~

The door clicked shut, leaving the six friends alone in the quiet, sterile conference room. For a moment, no one said a word. The gravity of what the generals had proposed hung over them like a storm cloud, and each of them grappled with their thoughts in silence.

Liam broke the quiet first, leaning back in his chair with a groan. “Well... this is insane. Like, totally bonkers insane.”

Steven sat with his manga open on the table, but it was clear he wasn’t reading. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the pages. “I mean, it’s not like we didn’t see this coming. Powers like ours? There was no way we’d stay off their radar for long.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Everett frowned, crossing his arms. “Yeah, but they’re asking us to kill someone. That’s not—” He paused, his voice faltering. “That’s not something kids should do.”

“Maybe,” Tristan said, leaning forward with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “But think about it. If this Rukh guy already knows about us, we’re targets anyway. If we don’t fight back, we’re just sitting ducks.”

Liam slumped forward, planting his forehead dramatically on the table. “Great. Just great. I’ll probably mess up and burn off my own eyebrows. Do you know how hard it is to look good without eyebrows?”

Despite the tension in the room, Everett couldn’t suppress a small snort. “You’re worried about your eyebrows while we’re talking about life and death?”

“Hey, priorities!” Liam shot back, sitting up and gesturing to his face. “If we’re gonna go down, I’m going down handsome.”

Grayson chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure, Liam. That’s what’s important here. Personally, if we’re about to risk our necks, I just want one thing.”

Everyone turned to him, curious.

“Bubble tea,” Grayson said with a grin. “No way I’m doing this without tapioca pearls. It’s non-negotiable.”

Tristan rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help a laugh. “Bubble tea? Seriously? We’re talking about assassinating a general, and you’re thinking about drinks?”

Grayson shrugged. “Hey, everyone’s got their coping mechanisms.”

“I could go for a burger,” Noah muttered, almost to himself. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Or two. Gotta stay strong, right?”

“Focus, guys,” Steven snapped, his voice sharp as he finally closed his manga. “This isn’t about food or eyebrows. This is about survival. If we don’t fight, Rukh’s going to find us anyway. He won’t care if we say no.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Steven’s words sank in. He wasn’t wrong. As much as none of them wanted to admit it, fighting back might be their only chance.

Everett rubbed his temples, exhaling slowly. “I still don’t like it,” he muttered. “But if it’s the only way to keep our families safe... I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“Exactly,” Tristan said, nodding eagerly. “And hey, think about it. If we pull this off, we’ll be heroes. You know how many girls would line up for a hero?”

Liam groaned, glaring at him. “Not everything’s about girls, Tristan.”

“Maybe not for you,” Tristan shot back with a smirk.

Grayson sighed, his smile fading. “Look, joking aside... we all know what we have to do. It’s scary, yeah, but we’re not doing this alone. We’ve got each other. And we’ve got powers. That’s gotta count for something.”

Around the table, the group exchanged hesitant looks. One by one, determination began to replace doubt.

“Fine,” Everett said at last, his tone reluctant but resolute. “But if we’re doing this, we’re making a pit stop for snacks. Non-negotiable.”

Grayson grinned. “Now that’s the kind of teamwork I like to hear.”

“Burgers and bubble tea for the win,” Noah said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It wasn’t a perfect plan. It wasn’t even a good plan. But it was theirs.

~ ~ ~

The door creaked open, and the generals strode back in, their polished boots clicking against the tiled floor. General Cutlas Henk took the lead, his imposing figure framed by the stark lighting. His sharp gaze swept over the group, and his lips curved into a faint smirk.

“Well?” Henk asked, his voice a low rumble. “Have you made your decision?”

Grayson exchanged a glance with the others. They didn’t speak, but the answer was clear in their eyes. With a deep breath, he stood, his expression firm. “We’ll do it. We’ll help you.”

The generals shared a brief, unreadable look. General Araya Restingam stepped forward, her dark, piercing eyes scanning the group. “A wise choice,” she said, her voice cool but approving. “But let me make one thing clear: this is no simple task. You may have powers, but raw strength is useless without control.”

“You’ll need training,” General Will Hayadi added, his tone less harsh but equally firm. He gestured to their small group. “Your abilities are impressive, but they’re also unpredictable. Untrained powers are just as dangerous to yourselves as they are to your enemies.”

Noah frowned, leaning back in his chair. “Training? Like boot camp or something?”

“Something like that,” Henk said, his smirk widening. “We’ll put you through a program designed to push you to your limits. You’ll learn discipline, strategy, and how to wield your powers effectively.”

Liam raised a hand as if he were in class. “Uh, question. Does this ‘training’ include a spa day? Maybe some downtime for self-care? I don’t want to burn out—literally.”

Restingam’s expression didn’t change, though there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “You’ll find this training to be... thorough,” she replied, ignoring his sarcasm.

Tristan leaned forward, his curiosity outweighing his usual bravado. “What kind of training are we talking about? Like running laps? Lifting weights? Or something cooler?”

“It will be tailored to each of you,” Hayadi explained. “Your strengths and weaknesses will determine the challenges you face. You’ll learn to refine your abilities and integrate them into combat tactics. This isn’t just about power—it’s about survival.”

Steven adjusted his glasses, his analytical mind already racing. “How long will this training take? And how do you know what we’re capable of?”

“We’ve been observing you,” Restingam said bluntly. “Your powers have been recorded since they first manifested. The messenger, Jayden, provided us with additional details. We know enough to get started.”

Grayson crossed his arms, his tone cautious. “So what happens if we don’t pass this training? Do you just... cut us loose?”

Henk’s smirk vanished, replaced by a serious expression. “Failure is not an option,” he said flatly. “If you’re not ready, you won’t survive out there. This war doesn’t wait for the unprepared.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

Everett broke the tension with a dry chuckle. “Great. No pressure or anything.”

“Pressure makes diamonds,” Restingam said sharply, fixing him with a steely gaze. “And we expect all of you to shine.”

Liam leaned closer to Tristan, muttering, “Did she just quote a motivational poster? What’s next, a speech about teamwork?”

Tristan stifled a laugh, but his amusement faded when Hayadi addressed the group again. “You’ll start tomorrow. A soldier will escort you to the training grounds at first light. Until then, get some rest. You’ll need it.”

“Rest?” Noah echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How are we supposed to sleep knowing what’s coming?”

“That’s your problem,” Henk said curtly. “If you can’t handle the mental strain now, you won’t last in the field.”

Grayson exchanged glances with his friends, their earlier confidence shaken but not broken. He stepped forward, his voice steady. “We’ll be ready.”

The generals studied him for a moment before Henk gave a curt nod. “Good. Dismissed.”

As the group filed out of the room, Jayden lingered by the doorway, his gaze following them with a mix of intrigue and something harder to define. The generals exchanged a few quiet words before turning to leave themselves, their voices echoing faintly in the now-empty room.

The mission had begun, but for the six friends, the real challenge was only just the beginning of something much, much darker than any of them would ever think.