The drone delivering breakfast had barely lifted off before another figure stepped onto the floating platform—boots polished, posture sharp, expression ready to kill or lecture.
"Stand straight," she barked.
Zack dropped his toast.
Alex muttered, "Oh no."
Liana narrowed her eyes. "Is that... her?"
"Good morning, recruits," the woman said. "I'm Ciara."
Cue dramatic silence.
They all stared.
Because Ciara—the legendary warrior of the great wars, the immortal shield of humanity, looked...
Thirty-five. Tops.
She didn't glow. She didn't float. She had a ponytail and wore a military jacket with coffee stains. A reusable cup said #1 Commander.
Liana leaned over to Alex. "Didn't she fight the first war?"
"She looks like she just fought traffic," Zack whispered.
Sia was reclined in a hover-chair, sipping from a coconut. "Oh good, Ciara's here. Don't mind the kids, they're just confused by your skincare routine."
Alex sat up slowly. "You're… Ciara? As in the Ciara? From the War?"
"Last I checked, yeah," she said, sipping from a thermos. "Although some historians say I'm just a myth. Personally, I prefer legend."
Liana blinked. "But you're so—"
"Young?" Ciara offered. "Yeah. Immortality has perks. Great skin. Terrible dating pool."
Zack let out a weak laugh, still rubbing his shoulder. "You're real."
They laughed—just a bit. Because somehow, with her here, it felt like maybe they hadn't totally broken beyond repair.
"Rest up," she said, "you're coming with me. Sia's orders. And yes, that's Sia. You're not hallucinating."
Alex blinked. "Where are we going?"
Ciara sipped again, smiling over the edge of her thermos. "Someplace peaceful. With real food. And no one trying to punch your soul out of your body."They all stared at her.
She grinned. "I told you. The best perk of failing first? You get nap time."
Then she was gone.
And for the first time in hours, they all laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was finally safe to.
Ciara led them down a wide hallway, bare of decoration but humming with soft lights. The floors felt suspiciously squishy, like walking on marshmallows, which Zack claimed was "probably trauma-proofing."
"Where exactly are we?" Alex asked, glancing around.
"Technically?" Ciara shrugged. "A pocket zone. Sia's private one.Great Wi-Fi, awful room service."
"Sia has Wi-Fi?" Liana asked, brows raised.
"She has everything. Except a personality that makes sense," Ciara said fondly, turning a corner. "Don't tell her I said that. Or do. She'll deny it and then prank me with a talking mirror again."
They entered a dome-shaped lounge, decked with bean bags, plush couches, and a table stacked with snacks. The air smelled like cinnamon and clean laundry. A fireplace crackled even though there was no chimney in sight.
"This looks like a sleepover," Zack muttered.
"That's because it is," Ciara said. "You're sleeping here. Together. Until we figure out what to do with you."
"Do with us?" Liana asked.
"You're a high-potential, post-failure anomaly team," Ciara said, dropping onto a couch with a dramatic sigh. "That means the system doesn't know what to label you. Lucky for you, I like weirdos."
"I guess this is the weirdest thing we've done all week," Lily said.
Alex nodded. "I'll take weird over brutal any day."
They found places to settle. There were no walls between them, no bunkbeds or ranks—just space, safety, and the hum of a woman older than empires watching over them like a tired aunt with too many secrets.
As their breathing slowed and the light dimmed, one question stayed awake with them:
If this is the break… what comes next?