Chapter 3: Downtime
(1st Person: Zavier)
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…You hit Adam with a Rasengan?"
Hah! Amaia couldn't get that out without laughing. Now I could just say yes…but that's boring.
"No…. allegedly."
Everyone, especially Adam, just gives me the stinkiest of stink eye faces and I'm just loving it. He can keep looking all he wants. I'm just trying to enjoy my lunch in the mess hall.
"I'm just being an honest man of God and-"
Before I could finish that sentence, the whole table just roared laughing at that statement like I'm lying, in which I am not. I promise you I'm not. Fingers crossed. Down the table, Anika raises her hand to get my attention and I promise to point at her.
"Wait.. Zavier, when's the last time you've been to church? Temple? Mosque?"
….I answer her…with silence. The silence seemed to enhance their laughter. I can't let them have this moment.
"Aye look, my God don't play bout me. Better watch yourself."
I see Amaia just shaking her head at me like I was just wrong for saying that but is laughing too hard to take me seriously.
"Z, you really think your God is watching over your agnostic ass?"
"Eh, probably, but this ain't about me. The man of the hour is my boy Darius."
Everyone at the table began to clap it up for him. So deserving. Oooh. I see this praise is making him blush quite a bit.
"D, don't be shy. You deserve it. You came and you showed out. This is your moment, bro."
Ah, he's giving into the praise. A quick napkin wipe of the mouth and he's ready to speak.
"Aight y'all, chill. I didn't do that great."
Oh no he didn't. What we're not gonna do is let someone not get the glazing they deserve. I gotta say something.
"I beg to differ. You came in clutch in the last half. You got the drop on Teresa and you weakened Adam for me. Then you made the touchdown with the flags. So yah, you da MVP."
As we continue to clap it up for him, the look on Darius's face changes. it goes from like a funny blushing face to a slightly mad but holding back laughter face.
"Z….."
"What?"
"Why. In. The. Fuck! Would you. Do that?!"
Wha? Why is he doing this? I'm… hurt. I feel sick, disgusted, traumatized. (Not really, I'm just being dramatic. Just go with it.) I can't believe he would do this.
"D? What are you talking about? I'm so caught off guard right now."
"N***a, WHAT?! YOU REALLY GONNA ACT LIKE THAT!?
"....Act like what?"
"Nig-...THE SUPERBALL SHIT!"
"The superball thing….Oh, that. But you consented to that, remember?"
Hey, if I didn't know any better, I swear I can see Darius's left eye twitching. He should really get that checked out. Also he's starting to stutter at me, trying to get a sentence out but he seems to be struggling. I know how to fix that.
"Wait, Darius. Think about what you want to say. Visualize it. Then say it. Simple. Just remember that you need to focus on it."
The evil, most devilish grin just grows on my face. I got my vengeance on 1 of them. Darius, Renee, & Nate just give me a look of unbelievable shock & annoyance. Nate speaks up for the three of them.
"Wow, really Z? We holding grudges now"
Jeez, where is any of this coming from? I gotta shut down this train of thinking.
"I have no earthly idea of what y'all talking about. I'm too mature to worry about such things."
A stunned silence befalls the mess hall as the three of them try to comprehend the inner machinations of my mind, even though it's quite an enigma (I'm thinking of spilled milk for some reason). As I ponder on this, Darius has something on his mind. He raised his hand to get my attention and gave me a shocking statement.
"...Imma kill him. I gotta pack him up."
Renee & Nate just pats his back and comforts him. Tsk tsk. Like he needs it.
"D, let it go. He ain't worth it."
Tsk….I am. She's just hatin. While me & my team keep clowning one another, I can see Minerva & Shaw trying to get our attention. Fine. I'll let up on them for now. Just to be courteous.
"Ayy, unu! Wah kinda move unu pull pon wi deh?"
I'm just lost in confusion because I have no idea what they're talking about. My face definitely can't hide my emotions.
"What move? I'm confucius."
Nate just puts his hand on my shoulder while shaking his head. Hmm, I guess Shaw wasn't talking about me.
"Naw, Z. This is for me & Renee. Now, Shaw, I know what you're talking about and honestly, you'll have to ask Renee about that. She came up with that on the fly."
Shaw's mouth just hangs open like what Nate said was just the most ridiculous thing he's heard today and he's got Minerva on his team and he's in the middle of a group hangout with me.
"Hold up, wah? No way yuh come up wid dat mad move deh. Dat sound like summen Minerva woulda do."
"Hey! What's with the shade?"
Ahh, figures she would jump in like a wrestler hearing their name in a promo, though without any entrance music playing. If you ask me, she gives a mix of Liv Morgan & Tatum Paxley type of vibe with Escapism by Raye & 070 Shake as her theme song.
"Y'all make it sound like I be wildin' out and be messy with it. I ain't bad like that….am I?"
The table goes dead quiet. For her, the silence spoke very loudly. The disapproving looks she gave told the whole story for us.
"I see how it is….fuck y'all."
Everyone but Minerva just starts to laugh once again. As everyone starts to calm down, Renee joins the conversation with Shaw & Minerva.
"Whoo. Ok. Where were we? Oh, ok. I remember now. Nate's right. I just made it up on the spot. I had no idea it was going to be that effective."
Minerva & Shaw just blinks their eyes in amazement over Renee's out-the-box thinking. I think I saw Minerva nod her head in approval.
"I respect that. You mind if me & Shaw add that move to our repertoire?"
"Sure. Fine with me, but what should we call it?"
The 4 of them stopped talking for a moment to come up with a name for this move they made up. I wish I knew what hell they were talking about. As they were thinking, I can see Nate's face light up as a name finally comes to him.
"I got it. We should call it 'Phoenix Flare'! What y'all think?"
The other 3 seem to like that name as they all smile and point at Nate.
"Cho! Mi dig dat!"
"I like it too…though I don't use fire so does the word 'Phoenix' really work for anyone else?"
Nate takes a second to pause and think if he can come up with something else. From what I can tell from the looks on his face, he can't.
"Can you think of something else, cuz I got nothing."
From what I can tell, Minerva honestly tried to come up with something, but it ain't working.
"Nah. 'Phoenix' Flare' it is then!"
As they continue their conversation, I overhear Ani talking to Adam & Teresa about her training. Teresa begins to ask Ani a question.
"How did the stress test go, Ani?"
Ani was enjoying herself at the table until that question was asked. From what I can tell, I saw her shoulders get stiff, like she was bracing for something. Her whole posture screamed frustration, but she was trying too hard to look neutral. I know Adam & Teresa notices that something is bothering her. Adam carefully tries to ask her another question.
"Hey. Are you alright, Anika?"
I felt it immediately—the shift in her energy.
It was subtle, but I caught it. The way her fingers tightened around her fork, knuckles whitening just a little too much. The flicker of something sharp in her eyes before she blinked it away. The controlled inhale—like she had to remind herself to breathe before answering.
She hesitated. Too long for it to be natural.
"It was... fine."
I'd seen enough people struggle in training—hell, I'd been there myself—to know what "fine" really meant. She was pissed. At herself.
Her fingers tapped against her plate, an uneven rhythm she probably didn't even notice. Her jaw tensed, then forced itself to relax. She was holding back. Trying to keep it together, trying not to let the frustration spill out in front of everyone.
Teresa raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Each word pulls the smirk on her lips.
"Fine, huh? Then why do you look like you wanna set your plate on fire?"
Anika let out a slow breath through her nose, then finally looked up.
"Because I do. I…I didn't do so well. Ever since I had these powers, it's been rough. All of this…from a goddamn smoothie."
Adam raised an eyebrow.
"A smoothie?"
Anika let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head.
"That's all it was. One day, I just wanted a smoothie. I wasn't trying to become one of the strongest Variants on the damn planet. If I knew my regular star fruit was swapped with a rainbow v-fruit, I wouldn't have drank it….And now, here I am."
Silence.
We all knew what that meant.
Adam's jaw tightened.
"The Creator."
That bastard. The one pulling the strings. The one who changed our world for their own amusement.
Teresa leaned forward, her voice careful but firm.
"Anika, listen to me. What happened to you? It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. You didn't choose this. Someone else did this to you."
The way she said it—low, serious, deliberate—made it clear. This wasn't just about powers. This wasn't just about training. It's deeper than that.
Anika let out a slow breath.
"I know. I do. But that doesn't change the fact that now I have to live with it."
She pushed her plate aside, finally meeting our eyes.
"I didn't just get powers that day—I got responsibility. A spotlight. A life I never planned for. I'm not just another Apostle—I'm a public figure now. People expect me to fight for them. And I don't even like fighting."
That last part came out strained, like she was ashamed to admit it.
Adam tilted his head.
"But you're good at it."
"That's the problem," she muttered.
"I've been a Variant for three years. An Apostle for three years. And I still struggle with this."
A bitter chuckle left her lips. "And Grant made sure to remind me of that during my training. He tore into me about needing to be 'the fighter the world needs.' Told me that with my power, I don't have the luxury of holding back."
Teresa's face twisted with irritation.
"Grant's a hard-ass, but that's a hell of a thing to say."
"He's not wrong, though," Anika admitted.
"I have power. A lot of it. And I can't even use it fluidly. I spent my whole training session today struggling to meet the goals he set for me. Three years of this, and I still don't feel like the warrior everyone keeps telling me I have to be."
Adam reached over and gave her a light shove on the arm.
"Hey, you don't have to figure it all out right now. You've always done things your way, Anika. That's not gonna change just because Grant says so."
Teresa nodded.
"Exactly. Screw the whole 'fighter the world needs' thing. You're already out here saving lives. Doesn't matter if you're the most aggressive one in the room."
Anika let out a small, tired laugh, but the doubt in her eyes hadn't fully faded.
That's when I put my fork down and finally spoke up.
"You're not alone in this."
She looked up at me, brow furrowed. I could tell she wasn't expecting me to jump in.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table.
"I get it. That feeling like you're supposed to fit into a mold you don't belong in."
She held my gaze now, listening.
"My whole life, I had people trying to tell me what kind of man I was supposed to be. What strength was supposed to look like. You already know some of it—the toxic masculinity, the pressure to be something I didn't want to be. People trying to make me act a certain way, fight a certain way, think a certain way."
I shook my head.
"But the thing is, none of them were the ones who had to live with it. I was. Just like you're the one who has to live with your power, not Grant, not the Apostles, not the world."
Anika didn't say anything, but her grip on her fork loosened slightly.
"You're gonna tap into your true power when you're ready. And when that happens? It's gonna be on your terms. Not Grant's. Not because someone told you to be a soldier, but because you decided who you wanted to be."
Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to argue—but then she stopped herself.
I gestured around the room.
"None of us asked for this, you know. Not you, not me, not any of us."
Her eyes flickered between me, Adam, and Teresa.
"We're all here because of the actions of other people. Some good, some bad. But what matters is what we do with the hand we've been dealt. And we're still figuring that out."
For a moment, she just sat there, letting my words settle in. Then, finally, she sighed and gave a small, tired smile.
"Thanks, guys."
Adam grinned. "Anytime."
Teresa nudged her playfully.
"Now eat your food before it gets cold. You're not getting out of this just 'cause you had an existential crisis at the dinner table."
Anika chuckled, finally picking up her fork. And as the conversation drifted to lighter topics, I could tell—she wasn't completely okay yet. But she felt better.
And for now, that was enough. The positive vibes were coming back to the table. As the conversations continue, I see Amaia & Toma eyeing each other with a bit of fire in their eyes. I still don't believe they're keeping it up even after they just sparred. I gotta comment on this.
"Yo, How are y'all still trying to get at each other while eating?"
Amaia just holds her finger up and, without even looking at me, goes to verbally shut me down.
"The same way you and Adam be fiening for each other but with way less sexual tension."
…I feel very personally attacked right now. I can't believe she called me out like that. The 9 month long pregnant pause everyone took at the table just to burst with laughter was also just ridiculous. Amaia just continues to pile on me, taking advantage of my innocence.
"You good over there, Z? I wasn't expecting you to stay on hush mode"
The laughing gets louder. This…this laughter at my expense….I can't let it be. I must respond.
"You know what Amaia…fuck you."
Now people are just rolling out of their seats laughing. Yeah, let em yuck it up. The less oxygen they get to their brains, the better. Cutting through the laughter, Ali speaks up.
"Wait, before we lose the moment. Babe, who won between you 2 this time?"
Everyone finally shuts up and turns to Amaia & Toma. They look back at us, turn to each other and laugh. In our confusion, Amaia chooses to give everyone an answer.
"Aight. Do you wanna tell'em Toma or should I?"
Toma chuckles and responds to her question.
"Why not we both answer at the same time?"
"I like that"
The both of them raise their hands to countdown from 3 with their fingers. As their fingers strike 1, they blurt out the results.
"IT WAS A DRAW!"
Wuh…What? H..How? Nah, I need answers.
"How in the world did it end in a draw? I thought y'all had all the time & space to go all out with the VR and Garcia's illusion casting?"
Amaia just gives us the shoulder shrug while she gorges on her ramen.
"Aye look, I asked them if this special training could actually contain our power and well it did…for a while."
Toma decides to add on to that while she swirls her Three Sisters soup.
"We were laying flat on the machine with the headsets on, letting Garcia's powers wash over us and our brains. To their credit, it was very effective. We were in a vast deserted wasteland full of different rock & mountain formations. I can tell you that I legit felt the brush of hot, dry air hit my skin. I felt dust blowing into my eyes and felt myself wiping it out of them despite my hands never actually moving. We took it easy at first. Very manageable. Then we started to take it up more notches. Garcia started to struggle with it and the VR machine was losing its grip with each strike we gave each other. They told us Amaia's chi started to glow and I was almost floating off the machine before they shut it down. Apparently, after all that, Garcia caught a crazy headache from our battle."
Well….ok. Hol' up, I gotta ask this.
"Wait, Toma. How's Garcia right now? Is she good?"
As soon as I asked that question, both Toma & Amaia's eyes widened, looked at each other, then turned to me, and gave me a shoulder shrug. I was kinda at a loss for words.
"Did…. y'all killed her?"
They both just gave us a nervous laugh, trying to laugh off that idea though I can tell they are still concerned for Garcia. Toma decides to cut through the silence to ease everyone.
"No, no. Garcia is a champ. She'll be fine. We will owe her an apology though."
Amaia just laughs in agreement.
"Yea. We should take her out for lunch whenever we can."
I would hope so. Poor, poor Garcia. Hmm. As I'm looking back up, I see Toma turning her attention to Ali & Veronica.
"Hey, how did y'all do during your training?"
We all turned our heads to them and man I can tell they went through it. The exasperated looks on their faces told the whole story. Ali decides to speak up for them.
"Yo, that swarm drill was something serious. I was not expecting it to be that crazy. They had us protecting a box from a horde of robots that fought us like they had something to lose."
"Man, what he said." Veronica added while she shakes her head in agreement while waving her fork around fresh after she stabbed a meatball dripping in spaghetti sauce with it.
"The determination and spirit those robots had is what I wish I had during high school."
Quite a few of us chuckled. As powerful they are, the tests they put us through are no joke. The bumps and bruises from the training really does add up. Granted, most of us variants can heal fairly quickly but still.
"So I guess it didn't go well for you 2?" I asked.
They both looked at each other, shrugging their heads, before they turned back to me and Ali spoke up.
"Eh…we didn't do too bad, but it could've been better. Speaking for myself, there was a good stretch of one I had a lot of those bots locked down with my transmutations. Lowkey, I turned the field into a maze. Them bots still didn't care and stayed on our asses. As good as I was doing, I got worn out a little too quickly for my taste. We almost flat out lost if it wasn't for Vee here coming in clutch at the end.'
Veronica chuckles a bit after that compliment. Veronica responds back to him and cleared up what happened on her emd.
"Thanks, but don't give me that much credit. Ali made me more aware to ACTUALLY pay attention to everything around me cuz I was just spraying water any and everywhere. I was just making a mess for most of it. Ali was giving me tips on how to use my powers better throughout the training and I started to get better at it. I wasn't all that great at making constructs like Zavier & Ali, but I'm starting to get a hang on it now."
"That's good, but one thing though," Ali says to Veronica.
"You don't need to compare yourself to me & Zavier."
I shook my head to agree with him.
"He's right. All of our powers work differently."
She laughs and takes a skeptical look at me.
"Like how? You 2 can make anything you want with your powers. I'm still a rookie coming out the gate."
I point my fingers at her cuz she made the point I need her to here.
"You're right. You've had your powers just over 2 years now. Ali has 1 year over you and I'm 1 year over him. And keep in mind, we're 3 different types of variants and human beings. Things aren't going to work the same."
Vee nods her head a bit while thinking about what I said. Ali speaks again to add on to the conversation.
"He's right. Also, keep this in mind; just because something looks easy doesn't mean it is easy. I'm a B-Type, I have to know and understand what I'm doing before I do it. I have to understand the science and physics of my transmutations or it won't work. I promise you, all this knowledge can be a pain in the ass to remember how stuff works before I rearrange it."
I had to chime in on this part because, while I'm not a scientist, I can relate to what he's saying.
"He's right. I'm a O²-type. I gotta keep everything in check; mind, body, & spirit. If anything is shaky about me, I'm screwed. You don't have that issue, but you do have to rely on your emotions since you're a C-type. Your emotions control your power. If you don't keep yourself in check and especially if you don't believe in yourself, you won't be able to move forward with your powers. They'll turn on you. Give yourself time and grace. You will get there."
Veronica smirks a little, looking like a large burden was taken off of her shoulders. She looks back up and looks at me & Ali.
"Thanks, guys." We both nodded towards her, acknowledging and welcoming her.
I turned my head down to continue eating my double cheeseburger and fries. While I was eating I noticed something…I was missing a fry! Wait, I'm missing another one. And- hold up! The one in my hand is gone. How…..wait a minute. Dis slick, speeding, Brazilian bitch. I threw up a force field around myself and as I expected, I felt a hard smack against the field. Everybody turned to me to see what had happened and saw our speedster friend & ally, Alexio, flat on his ass on the floor.
"Ai! You could've given me a heads up before you did that, né?"
"But who told you to eat my fries, mother fucker!?"
"...I was gonna give them back-"
"You mean after you shit it out!?"
"...It's on you if you want it back."
….Dis bitch. There's nothing more to say than this.
"Alexio….You ain't shit!"
The crowd around us is just dying with laughter. Hmm. They laugh now, but let Alexio take their food and let's see how they feel. Selfish bastards. Alexio does a fancy lil kip-up to get off the floor like he's Shaw Michaels. Show off. I can do that too. I see Amaia hop up from her seat the second she spots him.
"Hey, Alex! Long time no see! It's so good to see you."
Alexio waves at her, but before she can even blink, he's already at her side, arms open. One moment, he was standing next to me, and the next, he's across the table, pulling her into a hug.
"Man, I miss you too, Amaia," he says, squeezing her tight.
"Sorry it's been so long since I last saw all of y'all. Life's kinda been crazy for me."
Amaia just smiles, taking both of his hands in hers.
"No need to explain. I'm just happy to see you out and about. And that you're feeling better."
Alexio exhales, and for a moment, the tension he always carries in his shoulders seems to ease. That same weight that had been dragging him down for months—maybe longer—seems just a little lighter. As much as he can get on my nerves sometimes, I'm glad to see him too.
I won't go into detail, because it's his story to tell. But I know what it's like when your past finds you, when the mistakes you thought were buried force their way to the surface and demand to be faced. And when the thing you were forced to hide for your own safety—the part of yourself you had to keep locked away—gets thrown back in your face, it's not just painful. It's terrifying.
As a queer man speaking for another, I get it. I really do.
"So what's up?" Amaia asks Alexio.
"What you doing all the way up here?"
"Oh, yea. I was dropping off some documents & reports to the big dogs. A lot of them were about a variant trafficking ring that's been expanding their reach across countries. Hell, continents even. Matter a fact, I'll be with you guys after lunch for the meeting later."
"Hey! No fair." A voice rings out behind me.
I go to turn to see who it was and it's Amaia's best friend Christina in her professional IT goth gear. Gurl came in with the black pantsuit with silver skull beads in her braided hair, soft black eyeliner, crimson lipstick, black combat boots, and black nail polish with 3 silver rings on each hand. I wish I could not look like I'm trying to figure out what's up with her attire cuz I can see her looking confused at me.
"Oh, sorry Christie. For some reason, you in this get up makes me think this is what a moody boss baby would like if they grew up listening to Evanescence."
The way her mouth just drop fucking killed me on the inside and in the best way possible. To my relief, her dropped jaw is turning into a smile. I see Amaia standing up, ready to challenge me for what I said.
"Uh-huh, not my girl. Z, don't do my girl like that. Not today."
See the thing is….she says that, but I can see her holding back the laughter, so that tells me to keep going.
"Aye, look my bad. I'm just saying, she looks like if someone gives her more paperwork, she's gonna burst out singing 'My Immortal'."
The snickering around us is getting louder. I see Adam fighting the laughter. I bet it's because this is a situation he's been in and/or relates to. I turn to see Christie about to talk. We can't have that.
"Don't worry girl." Amaia tells Christie.
"I got him if he acts up."
…..Hmm, ok.
"Thanks. I was trying to say-" And before Christie finishes that sentence, I must chime in. Let me clear my throat. Ahem.
"🎵 I'm so tired of being here 🎵"
Amaia & Christie turned to me with a look that told me 'Bruh, really?'. I stopped….for now. The snickering happening around us fills me with dark joy. Christie goes to speak and I act.
"🎵 Suppressed by all my childish fears 🎵"
"Zavier…" Both of them said that together, synchronized even.
I threw my hands up, signaling my surrender. The snickering is getting louder. My audience is pleased. As they turn away from me, Christie goes to speak again. To that, I SAY NEVER!
"🎵 And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave 🎵"
"Puta, you sing another line and your spirit will leave your body." Amaia jokingly threatens me while raising her green chi glowing fist.
I take a look at Alexio, who's holding back his laughter, and I shoot him a look and he shares that look with Adam. Per request, I end my reign of torment.
"Alright, alright. That's it on that. My bad, Christie."
Christie hears my apology and just rolls her eyes. I expected that. She opens her mouth to speak and this time there will be no interruptions by me…for now.
"You know the sad thing is…the exact scenario he brought up actually happened one time."
I almost burst out laughing when she said that.
"Wait, you for real?", I asked. Christie just nods her head in amazement.
"Literally my boss told me to type out a report about one of the new pieces of tech we just made for you guys and right when I turned on my phone to listen to music, that exact song started playing."
Hmmm….this is the validation that I look for in life.
Amaia just shakes her head, knowing what this moment means to me.
"Gurl, I wish you kept that to yourself. Z is just gonna get worse." Christie looks at her and just puts her hand on her shoulder to ease her nerves.
"It's ok, Amaia." She says.
"I'm just glad he didn't do the same old song everyone knows ab-" AND THAT'S OUR QUE!
With me as Amy Lee, Adam with the backup vocals, and Alexio as Paul McCoy, the reign of terror strikes back, WITH VENGEANCE!
" 🎵 WAKE ME UP!
Wake me up inside
I CAN'T WAKE UP!
wake me up inside
SAVE ME!
call my name and save me from the dark
WAKE ME UP!
bid my blood to run
I CAN'T WAKE UP!
before I come undone
SAVE ME!
save me from the nothing I've become 🎵"
Amongst the laughter that came from our sing-along, quite a few others have joined in with us. I can see Amaia & Christie hating on us. Wait…why is Christie pulling out her phone for.
"Oooh Zavier!" She says in a sing-song-like manner.
"Stop this right now, or do we need to have a talk with Aiden?"
..... Snitch. I gotta stand up for myself.
"You wouldn't dare." Christie & Amaia just laugh as Christie continues with her threat.
"Homegirl is on speed dial and she loves me. My fake tears are very believable."
.....Damn it! She wins this round.
"Aight. You got it. Fun's over everyone."
Everyone is getting back into their seats, appeasing the vibe killer…for now.
After some time has passed and the laughter has died down, Christina checks her phone and sighs.
"Alright, fun's over for real now. Lunch break's almost up, and we got that meeting coming up."
Amaia groans, stretching her arms.
"Ugh, do we have to?"
"Yes," Alexio chimes in, pushing himself up from his seat.
"Unless you want to be the one explaining to the higher-ups why you skipped out."
Adam smirks.
"You can try, but I don't think they'll accept 'Zavier got Evanescence stuck in my head' as an excuse."
Christina shoots me a look.
"And yet, it's exactly what happened."
I shrug.
"What can I say? I have a gift."
Amaia rolls her eyes, grabbing her things.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go before I have to use my 'gift' to punch some sense into you."
With that, the group starts filing out of the cafeteria, the echoes of our impromptu sing-along still hanging in the air. Playtime's over—now it's time to get back to work.
As the group exits the mess hall, the shift in atmosphere is almost palpable. The lively energy from before lingers in small chuckles and side conversations, but the weight of duty quickly settles in. The hallways are a steady flow of Apostles agents and soldiers, all moving with purpose, some discussing reports, others simply focused on their next task.
The meeting room is one of the larger briefing halls, designed for high-level discussions that require the presence of multiple divisions. The doors slide open, revealing rows of seats arranged in a semi-circle around a central platform. A large digital screen at the front displays key reports, though it remains dimmed for now.
At the center, the main Apostles—me & my team, Amaia's, Alexio, the phantom wolves, Toma, and Anika—step forward to take our seats. Around us, other agents and soldiers begin filling in, standing along the edges of the room or taking available seats in the outer rows. Some are seasoned veterans, their faces unreadable, while others are younger operatives, still getting used to high-level briefings like this.
There's a certain unspoken hierarchy at play—the OG's of the Apostles, you can say, hold the focus, but every person in the room plays a role in what's about to be discussed. The murmurs settle as the doors close behind the last few attendees. The anticipation thickens. Whatever this meeting is about, it's important.
A sharp voice cuts through the quiet. Director Grant steps forward, setting the tone alongside General Brook, General Garcia, and Agent Logan Townes, our lead engineer in tech support and one of Christina's bosses, walks in with him.
The room quiets the moment Director Grant steps forward, his presence commanding without the need for theatrics. His sharp, calculated gaze sweeps over us, pausing briefly on each squad before settling at the center where the main Apostles sit.
"Good to see you all. Let's begin." He begins, his voice steady and firm. He turns to our table to speak to us.
"Good work during training. I reviewed the reports on the team-versus-team battle between Zavier's squad and the Phantom Wolves. The exercise was meant to push you to your limits, and you delivered. Zavier, your leadership is showing refinement, and your handling of your team is commendable. Darius—"
Grant's eyes settled on my teammate, his tone carrying an approving weight.
"Your progress is notable. You're taking the lessons to heart, and it's starting to show. Keep at it."
Darius, sitting beside me, offers a subtle nod, though I catch the hint of pride in his expression. We alongside the Phantom Wolves give Grant simultaneous head nods and 'Thank you, sir'.
Grant's attention shifts.
"Amaia and Toma, your performances were among the most impressive, despite the hiccup with Garcia."
He pauses as murmurs stir across the room before Garcia herself speaks up from the side.
"You ladies gave me more than I bargained for," she says, offering a small smirk.
"But don't worry about me. I will be fine. This means they're ready." I see Amaia & Toma smirk and nod their heads at Garcia, looking relieved from her statement.
Grant merely nods before continuing.
"Ali, Veronica—your crowd work training was solid. Your ability to manage high-stress battle scenarios is crucial, and I see you're addressing each other's gaps in your combat skills. Keep refining them."
"Thank you, sir." Ali & Veronica say together at him.
As he turns to Anika, you can feel the shift in tone. The kind that makes everyone straighten in their seats. I can see Ani just close her eyes and exhale as she knows that he's about to go in on her.
"Anika."
The entire room feels like it holds its breath. Anika stiffens beside me, her hands clenched in her lap.
"Your performance was lacking." Grant's words are direct, carrying the weight of authority that doesn't soften for comfort.
"Your abilities are crucial on the field. The power you wield can save lives, and that means you don't have the luxury of falling behind. Innocent people will rely on you, and you have to step up to that responsibility. Is that understood, Anika?"
Anika, eyes still closed then opens slightly and clearly fighting off tears. Her mouth shudders before she speaks.
"Yes, sir. I'll work on it."
After that, silence. The type that lingers a second too long. I don't think—just act. A construct forms at my side, invisible at first, then solidifying into the shape of a hand as I pat Anika gently on the back. She startles slightly, but I don't move away.
Director Grant glances at me, then looks away, choosing not to comment.
He shifts gears.
"Your training has been leading to something bigger." He presses a button on the console before him, and the screen behind him flickers to life.
Images, data, maps—pieces of a larger puzzle laid bare for all of us to see.
"A large-scale operation is on the horizon. The Apostles will be moving against Orion and their distribution partner, Calypso."
A ripple of tension spreads through the room. No one speaks, but the weight of those names presses down on every agent here. Especially for me. Orion specifically.
"Orion, as you all know, is a major variant trafficking organization. Their leader, Arno, is a man who started as a grunt in Berlin and clawed his way to the top. We know he has glass-based abilities, and we are well aware of his ruthless methods. His second-in-command, Araya, operates with explosion-based powers, though we don't yet have full details on their extent. She, too, came up in Berlin before aligning herself with Arno."
Images shift again, revealing another face.
"Calypso's leader, Omandi. We don't know if he has any special abilities or not, but we do know his rise began from poverty before he became a key player in their distribution networks."
Then another image.
"Diarmuid. Orion's top soldier. He's known to have access to powerful battlesuits and other weaponry, and his moral compass is nonexistent. He doesn't care what he's doing, why he's doing it, or who suffers in the process, as long as he gets paid. Expect him to be a major obstacle."
The screen dims, leaving only the weight of the mission lingering in the air.
"All of this intel has been gathered through the efforts of Anika and Alexio," Grant continues.
"They've worked to compile everything we know, but there are still gaps. One of the most concerning is Orion's experimentation with dark matter. We don't know what their endgame is, and that makes them even more dangerous."
His expression hardens.
"That's why you need to be ready. When the green light comes from our partnering nations on the African continent, we move. Until then, prepare yourselves."
Grant motions at Logan to approach the center.
"Before I dismiss you all, Agent Townes has something for you all. Logan?"
At the mention of their name, Logan Townes perks up, a cocky smirk already forming. They adjust their glasses and step forward, twirling a sleek, black device between their fingers like a magician about to reveal a trick.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed badasses," they begin, voice smooth and teasing,
"I present to you the latest in Apostles-exclusive tech—your new best friend in the field."
They hold up what looks like a standard smartphone, but knowing how the Apostles roll, I can already tell this thing is anything but standard. Logan taps the screen, and a holographic interface flickers to life, casting a faint blue glow on their face.
"This beauty right here? It's not just a phone. It's your personal communications hub, tactical radar, hacking tool, energy scanner, encrypted data storage, and—best part—it's EMP-resistant. So even if Orion or any other dirtbags try to fry our systems, this baby will keep running like nothing happened."
A few impressed murmurs ripple through the room. I raise an eyebrow.
"So it's basically an Avengers-level upgrade to our gear?"
Logan grins.
"Exactly, my dear Zavier. It's like if Tony Stark, Oracle, and the Ghost in the Machine had a polyamorous love child, and then gave it steroids."
Someone chuckles, but Logan's already swiping through functions on the screen, flicking through different features at a speed that makes it look effortless.
"You got high-frequency radio, Bluetooth networking stronger than your average military tech, encrypted messaging, GPS that won't betray you, and, oh yeah, a nifty function that lets you scan and analyze energy readings in real-time."
They toss the phone in the air and catch it.
"So in short, use it wisely, don't break it, and please, for the love of whatever deity you believe in, don't use it to watch anime in the middle of a mission. I'm looking at you, Nate."
Nate scoffs, arms crossed.
"That was one time."
Logan winks.
"And yet, here we are."
The room buzzes with amusement, but underneath Logan's playful attitude, there's no mistaking the importance of what they just handed us. This mission is going to be hell, and anything that gives us an edge—especially something this advanced—could be the difference between life and death.
Grant nods approvingly.
"You'll each be assigned one before deployment. Make sure you get familiar with it."
Logan claps their hands together.
"And if you have any questions, feel free to ask me—preferably in a way that strokes my ego. I accept compliments, praise, and well-worded flattery as payment."
"Noted," I say, shaking my head with a smirk.
Grant approaches the center as Logan finished speaking.
"That's all that we have for today. Thank you all for your time."
With one final head nod, Grant ends the meeting.
"Dismissed."
As everyone leaves the room, I'm still left thinking about the fact we're about to go up against Orion again. Organizations like them make my blood boil. They weren't just another crime syndicate—they were one of the first to crawl out of the wreckage left by V-Day, feeding on the chaos, growing stronger while the rest of the world scrambled to rebuild. I'd seen firsthand what they did to people, how they exploited the cracks in broken systems and the methods they would use to abuse people for profit, it's all sickening. When I was kid and the 1st Taken movie came out, I legitimately didn't know that stuff like that was real until a cousin of mine told me that it was. Living long enough, I came across plenty of real life stories that shook me to my core. If just hearing these stories was enough to make my stomach churn, actually witnessing them—and trying to stop them—was far worse. Especially when powers were involved. God… the ones I couldn't save. The ones I pulled out, only for them to choose death over living with the trauma. The ones I failed.... . No. Not now. I have to push this down. Someone else needs me right now. Someone better than me—Anika.
As we all left the room, I'm looking around to see where Anika went. She stormed out of there so fast, I couldn't keep up when everyone else started leaving. I'm looking around a hallway on my left and I started seeing some of Amaia, Toma, and others surrounding Anika. I ran up to them to help comfort her. As me and her eyes —all red-rimmed, guarded, I can tell she wants to just scream & shout. I shoot her a smile as I knelt down to her level and join the group hug with her. All of us just breathe and sigh as we feel each other's emotions wash over us calmly. I also noticed that Adam just sent to me an emotional link, and probably the rest of us, for us to talk mentally. I accepted it and allowed my mind to link with the rest.
"Thanks guys." Anika tells us through the link.
"But I'm ok. I'll be fine."
Adam just shoots her a look that knows Anika is trying to save face.
"Ani, really?" Adam asks.
"I can literally feel your emotions right now." Anika just sighs as she holds her head down before she looks up again.
"I know. I just don't want you guys to keep worrying about me."
Toma places her hand on Anika's shoulders and gives her a warning and caring look before she speaks to her.
"Ani, we're not just teammates. We're your friends. We'll never stop caring about you."
I decided to add in my 2 cents because Toma is just spitting facts.
"You can try to stop us from caring, but I promise you ain't winning that battle. You outnumbered & outmatched."
Anika brightens up and just laughs while wiping away her tears. I must say, hearing anyone laugh in real life and in your head feels weird. There's like a weird echo effect that rings off inside you that you just have to adjust to. Anika leans on me while Amaia leans on her and now we all are just bent down leaning on each other in a circle.
"Thank you, everyone. I really appreciate this."
All of us just held each other tighter as we breathed in & out.
As we all stood up cuz the floor wasn't all that comfortable to have a support circle, I see Adjunct Director Amelia Brooks walking towards us with her heels clicking against the tile. Her expression was softer than usual. We let her in the circle as she stands beside Anika, brushing a strand of hair from the young woman's face, I noticed the weight of her gaze—not just concern, but the feeling of understanding coming out from her.
"I'm sorry how Grant spoke to you," Brooks said gently.
"It wasn't right."
Anika opened her mouth, but Brooks raised a hand.
"Listen. What he meant to say—and failed at doing so with any ounce of grace—is that your role is important. You're brilliant, Anika. And what we're walking into… we need your brilliance. But harshness isn't the only way to awaken that fire."
I nod my head in agreement with Brooks. I can see a shift in Anika's posture. She's not as rigid and soft as before. She has more focus on her composure now. A flicker of strength, fragile but returning. Moments like this makes me wish Brooks was the Director. She has the brains and the toughness to do it and she knows how to keep her humanity even in this lifestyle. If Grant's tight, hard headed ass wasn't so established, she would be a shoo-in for the job.While we were all still talking, I caught a glimpse of Grant lurking in the back. Judging from the tight line in his jaw, the guy looked like he just bit into a lemon—and blamed us for the flavor. Great. I already knew what that face meant: someone was about to get chewed out for not living up to his standard.
For a military general, he was giving... egotistic high school jock. And just like a jock, here comes the one-finger 'come here' gesture aimed at me and Brooks.
Brooks gave me a tap on the shoulder. I sighed and turned to the crew.
"Me and Brooks gotta dip for a sec. Be right back."
We walked over, and sure enough, he dove in without warning.
"I saw that little therapy circle you were having," Grant said, arms crossed like he was posing for a statue.
"Let me be clear—you're coddling her. That girl doesn't need sympathy. She needs to toughen up. The next mission isn't a field trip—it's war. And war doesn't wait for feelings to catch up."
I saw Brooks inhale slowly, jaw clenched.
"With all due respect, Director, humiliation doesn't build strength. You want results—treat people like humans, not machines."
Grant gave her a stare like she just spit on his boots.
Yeah. Nope. I'm not letting this slide.
"Sir?" I said, grabbing his attention. "Maybe keep your dirty stink eye to your damn self?"
He whipped around, eyes wide.
"Have you lost your damn mind?!"
"My mind? Nah. My patience with you? Absolutely. Your militaristic mindset might've gotten you far, but it doesn't work here. We don't just survive on strategy and power—it's our humanity that gets us through."
Grant sneered.
"Please, you talk like a child. You've been in this long enough to know how ugly the world is. Fighting without conviction is suicide. You want Anika to fall because we went easy on her?"
I stepped forward.
"Would you care if she did? You think pushing people till they break makes you a good leader? People break in silence too, and a cold superior just speeds up the process."
His voice rose, but he kept it quiet.
"I'm your superior. You should watch your tone and follow orders. Don't let your powers go to your head."
I didn't flinch.
"This ain't about powers. This is about people. You don't lead us—you try to program us."
"Orders exist for a reason," he said, voice firm.
"Without discipline, more innocents die. Soldiers don't get to choose comfort over duty."
"And without compassion, soldiers come home broken—or don't come home at all." I closed the gap between us.
"You want us to die with honor, but you give us nothing to live for. That's not discipline. That's damage."
"Zavier, please." Brooks touched my arm, trying to cool me down. I didn't move.
"Not every order deserves to be followed. You know that. Hell, a whole island of people paid the price of your damn orders. History shows us where that thinking leads to. Tyrants, dictators, warlords—most of them said the same thing. 'Follow orders. Stay in line. Sacrifice your humanity for the greater good.' Sound familiar? Let's make something clear, General. If you ever make me choose between what's right and what's commanded, you'll find out real fast I don't bend easily."
"How dare you bring that island shit back up with me? I paid for that."
I can't believe he had the nerve to say that….. hell no.
"Like hell you did!" I snapped back at him.
"Your ass should've been locked away for that!"
"I'm not gonna tell you again to mind your tone and your mouth and you will not bring that shit up again!"
He really thinks saying that means anything to me. Wait, now he wants to point at me with his nasty ass index finger.
"And don't ever compare me to tyrants." he growled.
"Then don't act like one." I held his gaze as I swat his finger away.
"Hell, you had us protect some after V-Day just to keep the status quo intact. Do you know how hard it was to stop freedom fighters from torching the system, just because we weren't ready with something better? Your authority means nothing if it crushes the very people risking their lives for this world. You try to strip us of what makes us human, and no rank or politics will shield you from our firepower."
Brooks finally stepped between us.
"Enough. We're on the same side. Let's act like it."
Grant didn't respond. He just gave me a hard look, then turned and walked off.
I took a breath. Let the tension ease from my shoulders. My hands were still balled into fists, but the moment had passed.
I turned to Brooks.
"He might outrank us. Doesn't mean he's right."
She gave me a tired, but real smile.
"And it's people like you who remind me why this place still has a soul."
I nodded. Then I walked back to the others, more sure than ever that I wasn't just fighting to win—I was fighting to change the world we won for.
The sun had just started to dip below the trees when the last of the day's training drills wrapped up. Everyone was sweaty, sore, and emotionally spent, but there was this strange sense of calm in the air. Like the stillness before a storm—not peaceful, but steady.
People started packing up their gear, exchanging hugs, daps, handshakes, or quiet nods, depending on their vibe. My vibe tho? I was just trying to breathe. My body was buzzing from the heated exchange with Grant earlier, and my mind couldn't stop flashing ahead to what came next. Orion. The mission. The silence after it all.
"Yo, Z," Nate called out, jogging up beside me with his duffel slung over his shoulder.
"You good?"
I nodded, trying to make it convincing.
"Yeah. Just... decompressing."
Darius gave me that side-eye squint like he could smell the lie.
"So, not good."
Renee appeared from behind me and gently elbowed my ribs.
"You don't have to be good, you just have to be honest."
I gave her a tired smile.
"Y'all been talking about me behind my back?"
"Of course," Nate said.
"We're teammates. We gossip."
That pulled a light chuckle from me, and it felt good—grounding, even.
"I'm alright," I said.
"Still thinking about the Grant thing. And what's coming next."
Darius nodded, stepping in closer so only we could hear.
"He came at you sideways. But you held your ground. You said what most of us been thinking."
"Still," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
"He's not just some drill sergeant. That man ran the Apostles. What I said... it's gonna have ripple effects."
"Maybe," Renee said, folding her arms.
"But you reminded everyone we're not just weapons. And if that pissed him off, maybe that's the ripple we needed."
I didn't say anything back right away. I just looked around—at the folks loading up into their transports, saying their see-you-laters, holding onto each other just a little longer than usual. The kind of goodbyes that came with weight. The kind you gave when you weren't entirely sure what the next time would look like.
Amaia passed by and clapped quietly on my shoulder.
"See you on the frontlines, Z." I nodded at her.
Toma gave me a small nod and a soft 'See you later'. That was all. No dramatic sendoff—just simple, grounded, like always. It meant more that way.
One by one, people trickled out, some walking toward the barracks, others heading for their rides. The big military transport we came in on was already waiting for us—engine humming low like it knew we were all too tired to deal with anything loud.
As we loaded in, I sat by the window, staring out at the training field we'd just left behind. Darius plopped down beside me, his large frame nearly knocking me into the window.
"You know this ain't just about Grant," he said in a low tone.
"You're thinking about facing Orion again."
I didn't look at him.
"Yeah."
Renee settled across from us, her hands clasped in her lap.
"We all are. But Z… I know what this means to you."
Nate nodded as he slid into the seat next to her.
"And I know you're trying to carry it like you're supposed to be the strong one. But we're your team. You don't gotta wear all that weight alone."
I looked at all of them—my people. My crew. The ones who stood with me in fire, shadow, and silence.
"I appreciate y'all," I said, voice low.
"I really do."
There was a short silence. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just real.
The engines roared a little louder as the pilot signaled we were ready to take off. The plane started to lift, rumbling beneath us, and I watched the base get smaller and smaller beneath us. The storm was coming. We all knew that.
But as we headed home, back to Salt Lake City, back to whatever normalcy we could cling to before the mission… I knew I wasn't facing it alone. And maybe that was enough for now.
Time passed. The kind that doesn't feel real until the weight of it hits your bones.
We touched down at Hill Air Force Base under a sky just starting to dim. We thanked the crew for getting us back safe, then I took the reins—flew Darius home first, then dropped Renee and Nate off at their apartment. Everyone was drained, but there was this mutual respect in how we said goodbye. Quiet nods. Shoulder taps. The kind of parting that didn't need words because the next time we saw each other, we'd be walking into hell together.
When I landed at my place, I barely made it up the front steps before I heard Luna barking from the other side of the door. Girl's got a sixth sense for me coming home. The second I opened up, she leapt at me, tail wagging like it was trying to launch her off the ground. I laughed, throwing up a light field just before she could land one of her infamous slobbery kisses on my lips.
"Love you too, girl, but the lips are off limits."
While Luna tried to climb into my arms, Joy—my little panther of a cat—rubbed herself against my leg and purred like she was trying to outdo the dog. All this affection... It was overwhelming in the best way. It made me feel like maybe the world wasn't so heavy after all. Well, I would feel that way if they were the only ones waiting for me.
"Welcome home, babe!"
That voice? That's my peace. My anchor. My man.
"Where you at, A?" I called out as I scratched behind Luna's ears.
"In the kitchen! I made dinner for us."
Music to my ears.
I rose to my feet and made my way in, still grinning. Aiden was there, back turned to me, putting the last of dinner into Tupperware. From the way his body moved, I knew he could feel me getting closer.
"I'm glad you made it home, babe. I left a plate for you—it's on the stove, wrapped in alu—"
Didn't let him finish. I wrapped my arms around his waist, spun him gently, and hoisted him onto the counter.
"Wha—Zav—"
I kissed him, deep and soft. Felt his breath catch before he melted into it, his hands pulling me closer. That minute? That minute was everything. A bubble of warmth in a world of cold. Our lips, our hands, our closeness—this was the one part of my life I didn't second-guess.
After a while, Aiden tapped my shoulder twice—the silent signal we agreed on. I pulled back, resting my forehead against his.
"You okay?"
He nodded, catching his breath.
"Yeah. But damn. You hungry, or just hungry?"
I laughed and leaned in for a quick kiss on his cheek. "Both. But food first. For now."
"Luna probably needs to go out."
"I got her. You've done enough today."
I gave him one more kiss, one little smack on the ass for good measure, and backed away with a grin.
"Go relax. I'll come find you after."
Outside, the air had a late summer chill. Luna, for once, didn't give me trouble finding a spot to go. Maybe even she knew tonight was meant to be easy.
Later, after feeding Joy and digging into the plate Aiden left—lechon kawali mac & cheese with garlic butter okra and some bagoong aioli on the side—I kicked back on the couch and caught Monday Night Raw. Just in time to see Cody Rhodes turn heel on Jey Uso. I damn near choked.
"BAAH-GAWWD! TRIPLE H IS COOKING!" I yelled to no one, laughing to myself. Nights like this? Rare. The job doesn't allow for much stillness. Between battles and the mountain of paperwork they never tell you about, peace is a luxury. So when I get a moment like this, I savor every second.
Dinner's digested. Show's over. And now… there's one last thing to take care of.
I activated my sensory field—subtle, precise. Aiden always tries to sneak up on me, but not tonight. Tonight, I'm the one in control.
The second he stepped into range, I wrapped him up in a light-force restraint, lifting him a few inches off the ground.
"Babe," I purred.
"Remind me of your safe word?"
Through his flustered giggle, he replied.
"Mmm… elderberries."
"Good. Say it if you need it."
He gasped as I turned to face him. He was wearing a see-through pink negligee, a studded black choker, soft red lips, and a matching pink jockstrap. My knees almost gave out.
"I'm loving the look, GingGing."
I brushed my thumb across his lips, then slowly replaced it with my index finger to quiet him.
"It's a shame it's about to get ruined."
He bit his lip and whispered to me.
"No shame at all, Daddy."
Wrong name.
I gripped a handful of his hair—not rough, just enough to remind him—and leaned in.
"Try again."
He giggled, blushing hard.
"I'm sorry… Zaddy."
"Better."
As I carried him toward our bedroom, I kept him behind me, letting some new constructs…play with him as we stepped inside the bedroom door. I made sure the door closed behind us. I'd built up enough desire to match his. The kind of energy that didn't need explaining.
And with constructs… Well, let's just say creativity is a gift, especially when you have a partner that reads a lot of dark romance novels and their freak matches yours.
Tonight was ours. After everything—the training, the mission prep, the memories I'd rather forget—I needed this.
Not escape. Not indulgence.
Just love. And the freedom to feel it fully.