Late Night – Forest Base
The air was unusually cold. The wind moved through the trees like something alive.
Teaha stood outside the house sharpening his blade when he caught movement in the trees—a figure, silver-cloaked, tall, unmoving. He blinked.
Gone.
But Teaha didn't move. His grip tightened on the sword.
> "I saw you," he whispered. "And I won't forget your face."
Nisa's Dream
Nisa's body tossed slightly in sleep. A strange warmth wrapped around her wrist—the jade at her waist shimmered faintly.
A voice stirred in the silence:
> "Your gift is sealed by memory. Unit 9 is not what it seems.
The first fire will test your bond. Will it burn… or bind?"
She gasped awake, heart pounding, eyes wide.
Outside, Bihoo was on the roof, watching the forest. His eyes flicked toward her window—but he said nothing.
Morning – The Whisper Unfolds
The next morning was too quiet. Birds didn't sing. Even the wind was still.
The group gathered for breakfast, but Nisa barely touched her food.
Lara noticed. "You alright?"
Nisa hesitated… then nodded. "Did anyone… see anything strange last night?"
Teaha paused. "I saw someone. Watching us. They were gone when I moved."
Kevin: "What? You're just saying this now?!"
Teaha: "I needed to be sure."
Bihoo entered the kitchen from the garden side, holding something.
A folded parchment. Pinned with a bloodthorn—a cursed forest plant.
He dropped it on the table.
Lara unfolded it.
> "Unit 9 must break… or the world will."
Team Reaction
Kevin: "Break? From what?! We're doing our best."
Mira: "That's not just a threat. It sounds like a prophecy."
Teaha: "Or a curse."
Bihoo: "This wasn't military. It's older. Ritualistic."
Nisa, finally speaking:
> "I heard a voice in my dream. It told me… our powers are sealed. That our team wasn't chosen by chance."
Everyone stared.
Lara: "That means… there's more to why we're here."
Mira stood. "Then we need to know who sent the message."
Bihoo's voice was low. "Or who's watching us."
Later That Day Garden Gate
As the group trained lightly in pairs, Nisa lingered by her moonflowers.
They pulsed. Just once. Like they were listening.
She looked toward the trees.
A flash of silver.
Gone again.
But this time… she wasn't afraid.
In the Dark
Miles away, the silver figure stood before a glowing sigil, blackened around the edges.
A whisper echoed behind them, like ancient wind:
> "Awaken the first trial. Let the threads of unity fray."
The silver figure raised a hand, revealing a jagged scar in the shape of a broken circle.
They whispered back:
> "Let Unit 9 face the mirror… and break."
To be continued…