A NEW BEGINNING

Operation Log 383/65 – Zone 14

“Mission accomplished. Target secured.

Casualties: minimal.

Threat level: moderate.

Crew reports minor complications during the operation, all handled successfully thanks to the efficiency of the modifikants.

Team is returning safely to Beacon base.”

Ela, Beacon

She stood on the landing platform, where the pale light of dawn painted delicate shadows across the steel surface. Wind tugged at her hair, hastily tied in a knot, and cooled her face with its cold kisses. At this hour, she should have been asleep, curled under a soft blanket in her bed. But something had happened.

Tonot stood beside her, motionless as a statue. His metal shell reflected the first rays of sunlight, but he himself showed no sign of life. That lifeless stare unsettled her most. Tonot often enjoyed imitating emotion. That was what made him seem so alive, so present. But if he had shut that down on purpose today, it meant he had a reason. And that made her uneasy. She should know what was going on, yet he just stared silently at the landing deck.

She reached into her meco to pull up the mission details and identify who was on board the incoming craft. The first thing that caught her eye was the crew manifest. She could not tell if it was coincidence or design, but both Miren and Reng were listed. It did nothing to calm her.

“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” she whispered to herself, though her voice was lost in the roar of the craft finally landing. She looked up. The horus was coated in dust, shrouded in the blackness of spongus smoke rising from the engines angled downward to soften the touchdown.

The first figures began to appear on the ramp, heavy and hunched.

They were back.

But the question was: in what state?

The first to jump down from the horus was Borin.

Always brimming with confidence and his trademark smug grin, but today… today there was something else in his eyes. A dark shadow fractured the usual mask of calm. His movements were sharp, but tense, as if he were suppressing something that burned inside him.

“You’re going to want to see this,” he said with quiet weight and gestured toward the interior of the craft.

Ela felt her stomach tighten instinctively. Daylight was still only cautiously creeping across the horizon, but even in the dim morning glow, she spotted something unusual among the cargo. What in the name of the twisted sky were they bringing back? She hoped Tonot, as usual, would take the lead. But he remained still. He clearly wanted her to deal with this. Through the meco, she sensed from him a strange and unsettling anticipation.

Then Neron stepped off the horus, flanked by two officers from the Guard. Together they carried a motionless body on a makeshift stretcher, still clad in the remnants of armor.

A modifikant.

Ela froze. Her hand went to her mouth unconsciously. Hearing about death was one thing. Watching it arrive in front of you was another.

They had lost someone. The thought pierced her chest with an urgent sting. But that tension gave way for a brief moment to relief when she recognized the face of the dead. It was neither Reng nor Miren. The relief faded quickly, overtaken by a wave of guilt. Zerik had not deserved this either — to lie here, stripped of life.

The first truly fallen modifikant.

She had known this day would come. It was not the first time someone had returned bruised or burned, like the pair caught in the munitions depot blast. Armor had saved them then, absorbing most of the fire, but they had still carried lifelong disfigurements. Zerik, however, was the first who had not come back at all.

She knew this would have consequences. Until now, they had seemed unbreakable, invincible. And now? Now there would be questions. And doubt.

Reng was the next to descend from the platform. His face twisted into a grotesque mask of rage and grief. Ela watched him, frozen by a creeping sense of dread. His eyes carried a weight only someone who knew him as long as she had could fully read.

Still, he moved forward. Behind him, he dragged the corpse of something revolting. Something wrong. A thing born somewhere on the edge of humanity and nightmare.

When he dropped it at the werren’s feet, Ela gasped. She could not tell what she was looking at. An animal? A human? Something in between?

The tightness in her chest grew sharper. Because this was not the first time she had seen this thing.

That simulation Tonot had built for Reng…

“What is that?” she whispered, her voice barely rising from her throat.

“Ask him,” Reng hissed, his eyes drilling into Tonot. “He knows exactly what it is.”

The werren shell remained motionless, its face completely expressionless.

“Tonot?” Ela turned to him too, her voice laced with a flicker of desperate anger.

But his vacant, almost indifferent stare hit her like a strike into empty space. After a moment, he finally spoke.

“You killed it,” he said calmly, as if stating that the sun had risen.

“We killed it before it killed us,” Reng replied, his mouth twisting into a bitter smirk. “Or at least most of us.”

Ela’s knees buckled slightly.

“Where is Miren?” she asked, the words trembling out as her eyes desperately searched Reng’s face for an answer.

But he did not respond. He clenched his jaw and looked away.

“You knew about it the whole time,” Reng muttered toward Tonot.

“Yes,” the werren answered, still calm. Then, for the first time, he showed a flicker of emotion as he tilted his head with curiosity. “What was it like to meet it in the real world?”

Reng’s eyes flared with rage.

“Why don’t you ask the other two? Zerik and Miren?” he shouted, his voice echoing across the empty landing deck. “Oh right… they won’t be telling us anything. Zerik is dead because I had to cut his throat like a krelinyak. And Miren… Miren lost her mind and chose death over continuing to be what you made her into.”

Ela’s stomach turned. Just moments ago, she had tried to keep her emotions in check. But now her head was spinning. It felt like the floor of the platform swayed beneath her feet. Despair crushed her chest. She could barely focus on Reng’s face.

“No… no, that can’t be true,” she managed, her voice shaking as she took a step back to keep herself from collapsing.

Tears burst from her eyes as reality crashed down with unbearable weight.

Miren. Gone. Only emptiness remained.

And a question that kept circling in her mind.

Why? Why did it have to end like this?

And Tonot remained silent.

He simply stood there, motionless, watching the scene unfold before him. Reng stood nearby, breathing heavily, caught somewhere between rage and despair. Ela stood apart, devastated. It felt as though the ground had opened beneath her and swallowed her whole into a void of helplessness.

“But this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Reng looked up at Tonot’s frozen face.

Something had changed in his eyes. Pain was being reshaped into something far more dangerous. Into a burning, consuming fury.

“From the crew assignment to the malfunction in Miren’s injector. That wasn’t an accident either, was it? Was there ever even an informant? Or did you just lead us into a trap?”

Tonot turned his head to him and spoke dryly. “You attribute too much influence to me. And believe me, today’s losses are regrettable for all of us.”

Reng laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “Regrettable?” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. Then he shouted, “Regrettable?! You have no idea what you’ve done!”

Ela watched in horror as Reng’s hands began to tremble. His fury had reached the breaking point.

“Reng…” she tried, hoping to pull his attention toward her.

Not just to calm him, but because she remembered something. A scene she had already seen once. He had killed the monster, one so much like the thing now lying at Tonot’s feet. He had stood just like this, face to face with a werren. And she remembered how that simulation had ended.

“Reng!” she cried, but he silenced her with a single motion, eyes still locked on the werren’s unblinking face.

“Do you know what’s truly regrettable?” Reng’s voice rose again, sharp as a blade. “The fact that no one believes you. We mean nothing to you.”

Ela could not ignore that their exchange had already drawn the attention of others. The two guards had paused near the horus, watching from a distance as they gathered their gear. They exchanged a wary glance. Borin and Neron had also turned to observe, tense, from the far side of the landing platform.

Tonot ignored them all. He moved just slightly. One mechanical hand lifted in a calm gesture.

“Reng, you know perfectly well what you are meant to do. There is no need for theatrics.”

“Of course I know. Because this is what you wanted all along!” Reng shouted, cutting him off, his voice cracking. “But what if I don’t want to do it? You know damn well what they’ll do to me afterward...”

“Then we cannot allow you to choose.”

The werren’s words were chilling, but what followed was far worse. Before Ela could even react, his arm followed his threat with a sudden strike toward Reng. She had never imagined the shell could be so fast. But Reng was faster. He dodged the blow and responded instinctively, exactly as the cursed simulation had trained him to.

The hunting knife appeared in his hand in a blink. No one could stop him in time. The blade struck with a sharp hiss, burying itself into a narrow gap at the werren’s neck, hitting a bundle of critical connections. Tonot’s body jerked instinctively, his mechanical arms trying to shove Reng away. But it was too late. The knife had already done damage.

Reng didn’t hesitate. With a single, deliberate motion, he yanked the blade to the side. A spray of sparks burst from the wound with a sharp hiss. The metal frame convulsed, and dark fluid began to pour from the gash, its acrid smell burning Ela’s nose.

A mechanical arm lashed out, but Reng dodged it and struck again. This time the blade went straight for the chest.

“I hate you. I hate what you turned me into!” he roared, slamming the knife into the plated torso.

The blade sank in. Another shower of sparks erupted from the wound. Tonot staggered, his movements suddenly slowed and erratic, as if systems were failing one by one.

“I hate…” Reng rasped again, digging his fingers into the edges of the damaged plating on the werren’s chest, trying to rip it open.

Tonot jolted violently, one of his arms clamping down on Reng’s forearm with crushing force. The armor creaked under the pressure. Reng let out a hiss of pain, but his fury was stronger than pain. He threw the knife aside, gripped the plated chest with both hands, and pulled with all his strength.

This time, the plate tore loose.

Beneath it was a tangled mesh of wires and a glowing core that pulsed with steady light.

“Reng, stop!” Ela finally found her voice. Her cry cut through the grinding of metal for a brief moment.

She stepped forward, as if ready to intervene, but she hesitated.

The look on Reng’s face stopped her in her tracks. Twisted, raw, consumed.

She was afraid. Terrified that he might hurt her too.

Tonot raised his remaining functional hand, but the movement was weak and slow. Reng seized the opportunity. He slammed his fist directly into the exposed core, and with a sharp crack it exploded in a geyser of sparks. The werren’s body seized up, mechanical limbs sagging helplessly as the processor disconnected.

Ela stood frozen, unable to move. It had all happened so quickly.

The guards realized what was happening and rushed forward, but Borin was faster. With a single swing of his metal arm, he knocked Reng to the ground.

“Restrain him!” someone shouted.

From the left, Neron lunged in and stomped on Reng’s wrist so hard that Ela heard something crack in the injector on his left arm. Red mobzar spilled across the ramp, leaking from his damaged armor like fresh blood.

Reng didn’t seem to notice. He braced a knee against the floor and tried to break free from the brutal hold crushing him.

“For twisted’s sake, get him down already!” the first guard yelled, while the second backed away with wide eyes, as if too afraid to come any closer.

“That’s enough!” Borin roared and landed a heavy punch to Reng’s head. It was the kind of blow that would have taken down anyone else, but Reng only grunted and tried to rise again.

“Let me go!” Reng shouted, his voice breaking under the weight of rage and pain.

“Calm down, you idiot,” Borin scoffed, clearly amused by Reng’s desperation.

Ela had the unsettling feeling that Borin was actually pleased by what Reng had done. Maybe that was why he hadn’t stopped it sooner. As if this had solved something between them.

What had happened between the two of them?

“You know this is it for you, right? After this, you’re done,” Borin said, his voice thick with satisfaction as he slammed his fist into Reng’s face again, the impact ringing against the metal ramp.

This time, Reng’s body slackened in their grip. His eyes rolled back as he finally lost consciousness.

Ela remained rooted to the spot. The scene before her filled her with dread. Two modifikants dragged a third away without a word. He didn’t resist anymore. No one looked at her. She was left alone, just her and the extinguished shell of Tonot, lying beside the twisted corpse of something she couldn’t even name.

When Seren appeared beside her, Ela hardly noticed, not until she spoke.

“Looks like something forced Tonot to trigger his grand plan.”

“What?” Ela stared at her, uncomprehending.

Unlike her, Seren didn’t seem surprised by the series of events that, to Ela, still made no sense at all.

She smiled at her.

“Remember, Vin said the only way to adjust werren synchronization is to dismantle the shell. I’d say Reng did a more than decent job. And on top of that, he handed you the key. It’s lying right in front of you.”

Ela swallowed hard, unbelieving. Her whole world was crumbling around her, but Seren? Seren remained cold. Pragmatic.

“How… how can you talk like this?” she burst out, her lips and hands trembling. “Tonot is dead, Miren is dead… and Reng screwed everything up! Nothing will ever be the same again. And to you this is what… an opportunity?”

Seren tilted her head, as if she were hearing words she could not make sense of. “Yes. Exactly that. This is our opportunity. Maybe the only one we’ll ever get. You have to see it, Tonot did this on purpose. He trained Reng for this, deliberately. Think back to the simulation. He knew this was the only way to free himself. And you can’t let that go to waste.”

Ela shivered. She had suspected for some time now that something was unfolding right in front of her, something she was part of but had no real control over. Tonot, it seemed, had been pulling the strings all along, moving each piece without any of them knowing they were just playing roles he had assigned.

Now it was her turn.

“And Reng?”

“They’ll want information from him. But he doesn’t have any. It’ll take them some time to realize he’s too insignificant and try to get rid of him. If we manage to bring Tonot back by then, he’ll protect him. He still needs Reng and won’t allow him to be harmed. But we have to move quickly. For all our sakes. Keep that in mind.”

A cold sweat broke out on Ela’s back. It seemed like she didn’t have many options.

“So what do I do?”

Seren nodded with satisfaction, clearly pleased that Ela had started to cooperate. Then she pointed to the dead creature’s body.

“The right hand. Same place where modifikants have their identification implants. There’s a chip. Take it out. We’ll need it.”

Ela felt a wave of nausea at the thought of what she was about to do. But then she looked around and spotted the knife Reng had thrown aside earlier. She reached for it and, without hesitation, stabbed exactly where Seren had instructed.

She was right. The knife immediately struck something metallic, something that had no business being inside the creature. Ela slid the blade under it, working carefully to free it from the tissue that held it. And suddenly, a strange cylinder rested in her palm… a component clearly of werren origin.

“How is that possible? How did it get in there?” Ela whispered, stunned.

“Oh, come on,” Seren smiled. “You’re looking at a real werren. Flesh and blood. Just like Nonon, or the ones you saw sleeping deep inside the Prim Beacon. But this one came from somewhere else. Torn violently out of the Unconscious, it lost its mind, and in that madness became what sleeps inside us all. A killer.”

Ela’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

“But how? Beacons are all in the middle of oases. Someone would’ve noticed a creature like that.”

“Many Beacons are considered lost. Their towers are gone, but the structures beneath remain functional. Those are the places where the most feral ones awaken. Tonot must have known how to do it. He made sure it survived the emergence, then left a door open. It wouldn’t have been easy. But clearly, he found a way.”

“You’re serious,” Ela gasped, horrified. “You’re saying Tonot let it out?”

If that was true, it meant the werren had knowingly sacrificed not just civilians the creature had slaughtered in its madness, but also the modifikants who hunted it. And even his own kind. Because the Sleeper had been one of them, even if its consciousness had been shattered beyond repair.

Seren simply nodded. And perhaps to avoid further questions, she vanished just as quietly as she had arrived.

A maintenance team reached the platform, ready to clean up the aftermath. Ela pushed down the swirl of emotions boiling inside her as she gave instructions. Tonot’s shell was to be moved to Vin’s workshop. The remains of the dead modifikant and the Sleeper were to be taken to the morgue.

When she was finally alone, she stood still for a moment, deep in thought.

Everything was shifting, right here and now. Her fate, once meant to lead her toward a brilliant life inside the Beacon, had suddenly veered into a wild descent. She had no idea if she could steer through the curves ahead.

Because if she failed, it was over.

What she was about to do was more than just breaking rules.

It was betrayal.

Her hand reached into her pocket, checking to be sure the Sleeper’s chip was still there.

It was.

All that remained was to begin the most important move of the entire game.