The safehouse in Leilani was quiet, save for the frantic pacing of Milo Marinez. The room felt smaller than it was, suffocated by the tension radiating from its occupants. Ritto and Clay sat on the floor, their robes pooling around them like shrouds. Clay stared at nothing, his expression hollow, while Ritto made subtle, grinding noises as he tried to flex a damaged joint.

  "...And now they are both basically out of commission, and we're stranded in this place called 'Leilani'." Milo’s voice cracked with frustration as she paced the length of the rug.

  She stopped, pressing the phone harder against her ear. "What do you mean we should have been more prepared?! What did you expect me to do? Arrange a luxury cruise? Get us a ride out of here, old man! That's your job!"

  Ivan sat nearby, wringing his hands. He glanced between the biodroids, his scientific curiosity warring with genuine concern. Neither Ritto nor Clay acknowledged him; they were statues of defeat.

  "We have footage," Milo snapped into the receiver, her free hand gesturing wildly. "But we can't view or analyze it without Dr. T’s equipment. And maybe, just maybe, he could fix them while we're at it!"

  She paused, listening to the voice on the other end. Her jaw tightened. "Alright. Fine. We'll stay put. But make sure whatever extraction team you send is discreet. We deduced that our targets might be heading this way. If you blow our cover—"

  She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at it in disbelief. "WE?! Don't you 'we' me!" She snarled one last goodbye and ended the call with a jab of her thumb.

  Milo stormed back into the living room, tossing her phone onto the couch. She refused to meet anyone's eyes.

  "I gather Lector wasn't particularly sympathetic," Clay murmured, his gaze still fixed on the floorboards.

  "Understatement of the century!" Milo huffed, crossing her arms. "He can't wrap his head around how you two sustained so much damage. He thinks we were playing games."

  "That mixed attack..." Clay’s voice was bitter, laced with a grudging respect. "Its potency exceeded all projections. Now I comprehend how they managed to defeat Hugo." His face twisted in disgust. "The bastard fed us false data. Or he was too stupid to realize what he was fighting."

  Ritto shifted, the movement accompanied by the screech of grit in his joints. "I'm more... concerned about that... silver aura—" He broke off into a hacking cough, oil sputtering from his intake.

  Ivan leaned forward, his mind already racing. "Without viewing the footage, a thorough analysis is impossible. I would also like to interview you both regarding the specifics of the engagement."

  Clay raised a weary hand. "All in due time. Please. Let us recover our dignity first."

  Ivan nodded slowly, respecting the request. "So, we're going to meet the famous doctor then?"

  "That's the plan," Milo sighed, fishing a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. "Though he might not be thrilled to see how we returned his creations. Like returning a rental car after a demolition derby."

  "Please inhale those toxins outside..." Clay requested softly.

  Milo rolled her eyes but obliged, stepping out onto the small balcony. She leaned against the railing, staring down at the waking street below. The morning sun was warm, but inside, she felt nothing but a cold, sinking dread. That footage better be worth it.

  Meanwhile, in the forest clearing, a different kind of tension was brewing.

  Red stood amidst the wreckage, his predatory grin unnerving even to those who knew him. He cackled softly to himself, a sound like dry leaves skittering on pavement. Neiva looked to Angelo for an explanation, but he was watching Red with narrowed eyes. Sol, however, seemed to catch on, a flicker of understanding crossing his face.

  Red turned sharply toward the newcomers. He extended a hand with exaggerated grace, pressing it to his chest in a mock bow. His grin never wavered.

  "W-who is that?" Sienna asked Angelo, her voice tight. "And why does he look exactly like you?"

  But her eyes betrayed her. She didn't look away. She stared with an intensity that went beyond simple curiosity.

  Red’s eyes widened, his grin stretching impossibly further. He straightened, dropping the theatrics. "Strange..." His crimson gaze locked onto Sienna’s. "You ask who I am, but you don't seem surprised to see me." His voice dropped an octave, becoming sharp and accusatory. "As if you were... expecting me."

  Sienna’s eye twitched. Just once.

  Angelo, Sol, and Neiva turned to the "Sandstorm" duo, the silence demanding an answer.

  Kirren didn't miss a beat. He stepped forward, his smile bright and practiced. "Hello there! Can't say I expected you to pop out like that! Quite the magic trick."

  "Yeah," Sienna added, her voice recovering its smooth quality. "Same here."

  Red’s smile revealed every sharp tooth in his head. "Good. Very good. Allow me to introduce myself! Red's the name, and chaos is my game!"

  Kirren laughed, a hearty, salesman-like sound. "Quite the entrance! Gotta hand it to you."

  "What is Red doing?" Neiva whispered to Sol.

  Angelo shrugged, his aura fading now that the recharging process was complete.

  Sol leaned down, his voice barely audible. "I think he's testing them. You heard him. They weren't surprised. They didn't flinch." He glanced back at the pair, who were still engaged with Red. "This means they knew about him beforehand. Which would also mean..."

  "That they are after us," Angelo whispered, the realization landing with grave finality.

  "Oh no..." Neiva breathed, her shoulders slumping. "Not them too... I kinda liked them..."

  "So that's his plan. I see," Blue’s voice echoed in Angelo’s mind.

  Azure smoke poured from Angelo’s skin, swirling around Sienna to grab her attention before solidifying a few feet away. Blue adjusted his imaginary glasses, his expression cold and unforgiving. "Hello, Mr. Kirren, Ms. Sienna. I am Blue. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

  "Another one..." Sienna murmured, a hint of genuine dread leaking into her tone.

  "How many more of you are there?" Kirren asked, forcing a laugh.

  "How about you take a guess?" Red offered, tilting his head.

  "Think two's enough, haha," Kirren dodged, his eyes darting between the duplicates.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The tension in the camp spiked, becoming suffocating. The air felt thin, charged with unspoken threats.

  Sol leaned down to whisper in Angelo's ear, his voice urgent. "Tell Red and Blue to stand down. Do not pressure them further."

  Angelo relayed the message mentally as Sol continued. "We have grounds for suspicion now, but they still outclass us. We shouldn't give them a reason to attack us right here and now."

  Red and Blue exchanged glances. Red’s grin softened into something warmer, more disarming. He stepped forward and clapped a hand on Kirren’s shoulder. "I like your style, pro-boy!"

  He turned and jogged back to the group, shooting Sol a knowing look.

  Blue also turned, clasping his hands behind his back as he addressed the newcomers. "I'm afraid we must cut this conversation short. Daylight is burning, and we must make our way towards Leilani."

  "Care if we join you?" Kirren called out, jogging to catch up. "Would love to see you fly that ship."

  They all looked to Sol. He chuckled, masking his wariness. "How could we say no to our saviors? Hop aboard." He gestured to the CampShip with an inviting sweep of his arm.

  Angelo, Red, Blue, and Neiva filed inside.

  Kirren took a step forward, but Sienna grabbed his hand, pulling him back. "Kirren," she whispered, her voice tight. "I don't like this. They acted like they knew..."

  Kirren squeezed her hand, flashing her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. We play it cool. Just follow my lead. We talk about mundane stuff, disarm them, distract them."

  "You coming?" Sol called from the entrance.

  "Coming!" Kirren shouted back. "Let's go, babe. Don't worry, it'll be fine. They seem nice enough!" He paused, his voice dropping to a murmur only she could hear. "And if it comes to it, remember: we're stronger."

  Sienna walked slowly, fighting a shiver. "I know that... But that Red guy is just... creepy."

  The couple entered the ship to find Angelo, Red, and Blue sitting around the central table. Their auras were ignited, their eyes closed in concentration.

  "Uh..." Even Kirren was confused. "Is it meditation time?"

  "No," Angelo said, his eyes snapping open. "This is how we fly the CampShip."

  With a jolt, the ship lifted into the air. Trinergy erupted from the thrusters, and they were airborne.

  "Woah, look at that!" Kirren pressed his face to a window. "You're actually piloting this thing from the inside! Mighty impressive!" He looked back at Angelo. "How do you do that? You feel the wind with your energy or something?"

  "Something like that," Angelo replied curtly.

  "Just sit tight, relax, and enjoy the flight," Red added with a grin. "But don't go looking for a restroom. Not one of the services included in the Redmobile 3000!"

  Kirren and Sienna took their seats at the table, squeezing in with the others. The cabin felt suddenly very small.

  "So," Kirren leaned back, stretching his legs into the cramped aisle. "We were talking about the Crucible."

  "Thought we put that topic to bed," Sol said, not looking up from his phone.

  "Yeah, but something occurred to me," Kirren pressed, undeterred. "You said you met a team owner who lost a fighter, right?"

  "What about it?" Neiva asked, glancing over from the window.

  "That means there's a vacancy in the roster," Kirren said, his eyes gleaming. "Maybe one of you should take a shot at the title. What are your ranks?"

  "Unranked," Sol said flatly.

  "Same," Neiva added.

  Angelo sighed. "Last I checked, Adept."

  "Yikes," Kirren winced. "That won't cut it. This year's Crucible is strictly Veteran rank." He rubbed his chin, calculating. "Maybe with intensive EDR training..." He paused, looking at them sharply. "Did any of you peak?"

  "Did we... peak?" Sol blinked, mirroring Neiva's confused expression.

  "Never heard of peaking?" Kirren asked, genuinely surprised.

  They exchanged glances before shaking their heads.

  "Let's put it this way," Kirren began, leaning forward. "Don't you think it's weird? All Aurons have access to the same unlimited cosmic energy. Yet the vast majority are stuck in the lower tiers." He spread his hands. "In the pro scene, we call it peaking. Basically, an Auron hits an invisible ceiling that shouldn't exist."

  "What... an... absurd... notion..." Blue strained to speak, his concentration focused on keeping the ship airborne.

  "Oh? Why's that?" Kirren challenged, amused.

  "There isn't... a scientific... basis... for such... a claim..." Blue managed.

  Kirren nodded. "True. Scientists can't explain it or prove it."

  "Obviously," Blue said, a hint of scholarly triumph in his strained voice.

  "But us in the arena? We've seen it enough to believe it," Kirren countered. "Aurons who get great results with EDR training suddenly slow to a crawl. Current science can't explain it, sure. But can you claim we know everything there is to know?"

  Blue paused. "No... Of course... not..."

  Kirren clapped his hands. "And there it is."

  "How do you know if you've peaked?" Neiva asked, a frown creasing her forehead.

  "Well... usually we bring a portable EDR checker. They aren't super accurate for ranking, but they're great for spotting a plateau," Kirren explained.

  "So what," Angelo muttered bitterly. "You're saying I could get stuck at Elite or something?"

  "If you're unlucky? Yeah," Kirren said casually.

  The rest of the flight passed in a relatively comfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the Trinergy engines. After hours of travel, it was finally time for a break. The ship descended, touching down in a remote clearing. Everyone spilled out, stretching limbs stiff from the long flight.

  Sol tapped his chin, a thought striking him. "Hey, we forgot to call Albert. Wanna do it now?" he asked Angelo.

  Angelo shot him a look. "You sure it won't be impolite considering we have... guests?" His gaze flicked to Kirren and Sienna, a silent message passing between them.

  Sol turned to the pair. "You wouldn't mind, right?"

  "What? Oh, uh, no, of course not," Kirren replied, blinking. "Knock yourself out."

  "Call him," Sol instructed Angelo. "On speaker, if you don't mind. I want to hear what he has to say, too."

  Angelo nodded slowly, fishing out his phone. The line rang, the sound echoing in the quiet clearing. Everyone waited with bated breath.

  "Hello?" Albert's voice crackled from the speaker.

  "Hey Albert, it's me," Angelo said flatly. "How are things?"

  "Angelo, my boy! I've been well," Albert's voice warmed instantly. "How about you? How are Red and Blue? And your traveling companions? I hope you are all well."

  Angelo barked a pained laugh. "Wish I could say we're in top condition, but we're breathing."

  Albert paused. "You ran into complications? Did you attempt Energy Fusion? Did it help?"

  Sol interjected smoothly. "H-hey, Professor Goldstein." He noticed Kirren and Sienna exchanging glances. "Don't know if you've heard of me—Solomon Thron? But you can call me Sol. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

  "Ah, Solomon, very good! Are you good friends with my boys?" Albert asked, sounding like a father meeting his children's schoolmates.

  "Heh, we're basically inseparable at this point," Sol chuckled as Angelo elbowed him in the ribs.

  "I'm here too, Professor Albert!" Neiva chirped, eager to be acknowledged. "Neiva Wines! I'm also friends with them! Well, more like their student, but you know..."

  "Very good! I'm pleased to meet you both!" Albert announced warmly.

  Sol’s expression sobered. "We actually have a reason for this call, Professor. We faced two Aurons that can only be described as... enhanced humans. One had metal implants on his forearms and mismatched eyes—one green, one pink. The other was a full-on cyborg, mechanical limbs and a bear trap for a jaw."

  "And a creepy mech-eye!" Neiva added with a shudder.

  "I... I beg your pardon?" Albert stammered.

  Angelo took the reins. "Tell us, Albert. Does the name Dr. T ring any bells? Those weirdos slipped it."

  Even without seeing him, they could feel the blood drain from Albert’s face. The silence on the line was heavy, loaded with dread.

  "I... I never thought I'd hear that name again."

  "So you DO know him!" Red blurted out, making everyone jump.

  "Please, Professor, elaborate," Blue asked politely.

  "Trevor Franks," Albert began, his voice tight. "Calls himself Dr. T... Of course, he isn't an actual doctor. He was expelled from university, shunned by the scientific community for his actions..."

  "What did he do?" Sol asked.

  "He developed an insane theory about artificially creating the perfect human being," Albert explained, a dark memory surfacing. "When we caught him making preparations for human experimentation, he was expelled by a committee I sat on. He left in disgrace. Years later, he was arrested for actual human experimentation. Spent ten years in prison."

  "So now he's back?" Neiva asked, horrified.

  "I don't know. What I do know is that even in prison, he never let go of his ambitions. I heard guards needed therapy just from being around him. When he was discharged, the walls of his cell were covered in formulas written in his own blood."

  A shiver ran down several spines.

  "After his release, he disappeared. I hadn't heard anything until now," Albert continued gravely. "If you truly met his creations, it means he managed to pull it off. The ones you met were not modified humans. They were artificial humans grown in a lab."

  The revelation hit them like a hammer.

  "That... to play god like this, to meddle with the natural order..." Blue's face twisted in disgust.

  "But that bald guy... he was so polite..." Neiva murmured, unable to reconcile the image.

  Sol absorbed the information, his mind racing. "They said they wanted to meet Angelo. Any idea why, Professor?"

  Albert paused. "To be perfectly honest, no. I do not. My research and his do not align directly. I can't fathom a reason for him to study Angelo up close."

  Kirren and Sienna twitched almost imperceptibly.

  "I will say this, however," Albert warned, his voice stern. "Do not get involved with him, my boys. If Dr. T is back with resources, it must be from the darker underbellies of society. Do not get yourselves tangled with them."

  Sol thought for a moment. "Darker underbellies of society...? Like GHOST?"