The chamber held its silence, a weight pressing over the gathered figures. Caesius stood unwavering, his presence commanding, the tension thick as he delivered his report.
"It appears these high school students pose more risk than we initially assumed. Based on the data I've collected, they are far more disruptive to our plan than expected."
Victor Halethorne leaned forward, fingers tapping against the crystalline surface before him. "Define disruptive."
Caesius's gaze did not waver. "They adapted beyond projections. They fought past exhaustion. And they refused to retreat."
Dr. Aria Lorentis exhaled sharply, the screens before her flickering as she skimmed the altered calculations. "Then we underestimated them."
Dorian Vance scoffed, voice dripping with frustration.
"I will destroy them! They've put shame on my name! They will pay!"
His face was bruised, his image tarnished, the battle still visible on his form.
"If you hadn't interfered, Caesius, I would've destroyed them!"
His fist struck the crystalline table, a crack forming beneath his grip. "They will regret this."
Victor didn't flinch, his voice sharp. "Order at the table, Officer Vance."
A voice cut through, smooth, deliberate—Elira Orlannis.
"Their blue dust lingers among it all. They are a catalyst—a power we must capture and mold into our vision."
The room shifted, attention turning toward her. She leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable, yet filled with certainty.
"They move with purpose. They refuse limitation. This is no longer interference—it is opposition."
Victor's gaze sharpened, the decision settling into place. "Then we escalate. They are no longer anomalies. They are threats."
A pause. A final understanding.
The hunt has begun.
******************************************************************
Vance stormed past the cells, his steps sharp, his posture rigid with frustration. His breath was tight, and beneath it, names slipped—muttered under his breath, each syllable carrying the weight of unfinished anger.
Absinthe. Celestia. Synthena.
The words curled through the air, unintended, yet deliberate. And within the dim-lit chambers, one anomaly listened.
A pale blue figure stood nearest to the reinforced window, his form still, yet his eyes flickered with quiet recognition.
Had he heard that right?
Had he just heard their names?
*******************************************************************
His prison.
White and lilac strands brushed against his face as he watched Vance storm past—the sight filling him with both relief and sharp apprehension. His voice slipped out in a breath, almost to himself.
"Synthena...? Absinthe...? They're still alive?"
The quiet words did not go unnoticed.
Vance's attention snapped toward the anomaly, his form halting, his expression twisting with curiosity. He turned slowly, his stare locking onto the pale blue figure before him.
A smirk crept across his lips.
"Ha... That whisper beneath your voice carries wonders." He leaned in slightly, his gaze dark and knowing. "Do those names resonate with you, Travis?"
Travis pressed up against the glass of his prison, his body stiff with fury, his face twisting in protective rage.
"I swear, if you hurt them, I will find a way out of here— and I will kill you!"
Vance's smile widened, the gleam in his eyes shifting—like something had just clicked into place.
"Heh… Well, that just changes everything right....? ."
Travis's pale blue skin shimmered, darker streaks lining his cheeks like cosmic remnants. His face glittered like stars, his white eyes holding the weight of infinity. Lilac-touched hair stood wild and unkempt, a punk edge still intact despite his uniform.
Yet the uniform did not matter—only the fire behind his glare, fixed entirely on Officer Vance.
And with one last chuckle, Vance turned, the sound lingering like an echo of a dangerous revelation.
****************************************************************
Victor stared at the floating holograms, the dim glow casting fractured shadows across his face. The chamber remained shrouded in darkness, blinds drawn tight—only the flickering data illuminating his expression.
"So, you said you know them well?" The question left his lips effortlessly, but beneath it was the weight of expectation.
Caesius stood before Victor's desk, arms loosely at his sides, yet his posture remained unwavering.
"Of course I do. They're friends of my… well, little sister." His voice carried an edge of nostalgia, but it quickly faded. "They all went to middle school together—until they had a little, well… let's just say, a tiff."
Victor's eyes flickered with intrigue.
"Go on."
His fingers moved with purpose, cycling through the glowing screens before him. Each projection held detailed profiles, words etched in stark clarity for him to read.
The camera panned toward Absinthe's profile—her name centered in white text against a deep-blue overlay.
"Absinthe Seraphis—little sister of the famous heartthrob, Sinister Seraphis. Once a fleeting student of Louches Middle School, she aced all her exams, ran as school president…" Victor's gaze sharpened. "…only to fall from grace with nothing but a whisper in the air."
The next screen shifted—Synthena Bloom.
"Synthena Bloom—trendsetter, social firebrand. Always bubbly, eternally clumsy. The daughter of Lotus Bloom and Luther Bloom, high-end fashion designers behind Leafy Fashion. Yet despite her family's wealth, they choose to live like ordinary people. But tread too close to her friends, and she bites back—a wolf protecting her own pack."
Caesius's fingers hovered over the interface, the glow of the profiles illuminating his face as he continued his assessment.
"And my gullible little sister. Always desperate for our father's attention, always grasping at what she could never quite hold onto." His lips curled slightly, though his expression remained unreadable. "Celestia… what a sad and sorry sight."
His fingers shifted across the holograms.
"I never expected to see her alive today, let alone reunited with her former foe—now turned friend. She would do anything to climb above the rest… even if it meant betraying the very people who once stood by her side."
Then—he paused, his tone shifting slightly.
"Oh, and don't forget their beloved heartthrobs—Travis and Obsidian."
The next profile flashed onto the screen, revealing Obsidian's data.
"Obsidian—known for his cheeky wit and mischievous grin. He would protect what he loves, no matter the cost." Caesius's tone carried something unreadable, almost dismissive. "There were whispers… rumors that his family was involved in a rather terrible underground operation within the city. But no one could ever prove it. Just a whisper in the dark."
The screen shifted again, landing on Travis's profile.
Victor's gaze lifted slightly, his attention pulled back.
"And Travis…" Caesius exhaled, eyes scanning the limited data before him.
"Not much is known. An orphan, bouncing between foster families. He had a habit of getting into fights—often labeled as reckless, volatile. A mystery, really. There's not much else I can say."
He leaned back slightly, fingers trailing away from the interface.
"And as for Obsidian… who knows if he's even still alive? Not that it interests me—I always hated him." A subtle smirk played at his lips, fleeting. "Annoying little fool."
Victor's expression remained neutral, absorbing the information, calculations turning in his mind.
Victor stood slowly, the motion deliberate, precise. His steps carried him toward the window, where blinds shielded the outside world. With nothing more than the flick of a finger, he parted the slats, allowing a sliver of daylight to seep through—just enough to illuminate his gaze.
"There is no time."
His voice held finality, cutting through the chamber with quiet authority.
"Begin the operations. Inform Dr. Aria Lorentis that she may proceed with her experiments. The time for hesitation is over."
He exhaled, watching the glow of the horizon, as if envisioning the future taking shape before him.
"We must obtain the power of our lost world—now." His fingers traced the edge of the blinds before he released them, the room darkening once more. "If we are to forge a new era, one that stretches beyond Earth itself, then our dominance must be absolute."
A pause. Then, his voice dipped, firm with certainty.
"Harvest the blue dust we have. Take it all."
His stance remained unwavering, his presence commanding, as his final words marked the moment their ambitions became reality.
"We will take our deserved seat among the stars."
Victor's voice echoed, lingering in the darkness of his office. His face remained shadowed, the dim remnants of light barely tracing the edges of his expression. His ambitions were no longer a vision—they were becoming reality.
Control. Domination. Rule over all civilizations.
"It will be ours," he murmured, his fingers loosening from the blinds as he stepped away.
****************************************************************
Caesius bowed quickly, his posture crisp, yet there was a faint glint of satisfaction in his gaze. "Yes, sir."
As he turned away from Victor, a slow smile spread across his face—calculated, knowing.
******************************************************************
A presence lingered.
At the edge of the office's exit, a figure loomed, barely visible. A slight crack in the doorway creaked before vanishing into the darkened hallway.
Caesius's senses sharpened instantly.
His gaze snapped toward the door. Had someone been listening in?
He moved with precision, hand gripping the edge of the door, pushing it open slightly. His head tilted outward, scanning the corridor, his eyes filled with quiet suspicion.
For a moment, nothing. Silence.
Then—he stepped out, straightening his posture, smoothing his attire, his expression shifting back into composed control.
But deep within, the lingering thought remained.
Someone had been there. And that meant something.