Chapter Five #2
I steady myself before stepping onto the beam, focusing on keeping my center of gravity low.
My balance wavers but never fails. A lifetime of confinement taught me how to move—quick, quiet, invisible—lest an inadvertent sound or vibration alert someone to my existence.
Years of working with delicate concoctions for my experiments trained my hands and body to remain steady under pressure.
For once, my sheltered life has given me an advantage.
The course continues with more obstacles—rope swings over mud pits, a tunnel crawl through jagged rocks, and a climbing net that leaves my hands bloody and raw. Each element is designed not just to challenge, but hurt; to weed out the weak through physical trauma rather than mere difficulty.
I catch sight of the leaders as I navigate the course, noticing the definition in their muscles, the way they carry themselves with the conviction of men who’ve tested their bodies against impossible tasks and emerged victorious.
They didn’t get those muscles from easy training.
This brutality has purpose, even if I find it barbaric.
By the time I collapse at the finish line, my lungs feel like they’ve been scorched from the inside out.
Every breath burns. But I don’t let the pain show in my eyes, instead forcing my body to straighten and meeting the gaze of the Commander as he walks past, observing each of us with clinical detachment.
I try to project the same stoic indifference the other recruits display.
Perhaps not the best idea, as the lack of oxygen in my blood creates black spots in my vision.
He moves on quickly, pointing at two men who struggled more visibly than the rest. “You and you. Leave. You’re done.”
My stomach drops. I hadn’t realized he was being entirely serious about immediate dismissal. There’s no second chance or opportunity to improve. One failure equals immediate dismissal.
The next test comes without pause—a mental challenge designed to assess strategic thinking and problem-solving under pressure.
We’re ushered to tables set with various objects that appear innocuous enough until Arayik’s third—Kellen, I think—explains our task: disarm a mock explosive using logic and deductive reasoning.
A timer is set, and my hands uncharacteristically shake as I work through the puzzle. But while my body may be failing me, my mind remains sharp. At least the bleeding wounds from the rope clotted quickly.
I dig into my head and recall a passage I read years ago about circuit mechanics and apply the principle here, my fingers manipulating the components with growing confidence. When the timer buzzes, my device is successfully dismantled.
One recruit isn’t so fortunate. He’s dismissed with the same flick of a wrist as the first two.
The final round tests our power. Each recruit must demonstrate their ability and the leaders will determine if it’s useful enough to warrant keeping us.
My stomach flutters—I’m actually excited about this part.
I’ve been practicing for years, pushing myself further each time.
I must take a moment to thank whatever twist of fate gave me power when I was born—without it, this is where my deception would fall apart.
Elias instructs everyone to partner up, but I hang back at first, not confident enough to approach any of the others. He notices my hesitation and beckons me forward.
“Ashford, come here. You can demonstrate on us directly.”
Wonderful…just what I needed.
I cross my heels and spin to approach the three men, ignoring the forming lump in my throat. The Commander asks my name, and I stutter so badly that Elias answers for me.
“This is Lachlan Ashford.” Is he being helpful or is he already suspicious of me?
His superior nods before inquiring about my power. I clear my throat, opening the back of it to deepen the sound. “I’m an Empath,” I answer, meeting his hard gaze.
Light shines from behind me, illuminating his eyes through the opening in his mask. They’re dark, almost black, and utterly devoid of warmth—the kind of eyes that have witnessed cruelty and participated in it without remorse.
He doesn’t act pleased with my answer, but at least it doesn’t trigger any additional hostility. Empaths aren’t the most valued power type among Enforcers, from what I’ve gathered. They prefer more offensive abilities, where the user doesn’t need to touch another person to use power on them.
“Influence one of us,” he commands, giving no further instruction as he holds out a hand.
I don’t need further instruction, nor do I reach to grab his hand. This is my moment to prove my worth, and I cannot afford to be timid. I’ve wanted this for too long. Still, I consider holding back—showing too much skill might draw unwanted attention.
Being sent home would be worse than a little scrutiny.
It’s decided, then. I reach into my core and focus my energy, doing something I’ve never attempted on aware strangers before—I influence all three leaders simultaneously, sending a tangy emotional current to each.
Most individuals require physical contact to use their power.
Chargers need to touch what they’re electrifying.
Thermics must make contact with what they heat or cool.
Revealers can detect lies when they touch the speaker.
But I’ve pushed my ability further, practicing relentlessly in the solitude of our home, never having the privilege of using my powers physically.
A small blessing, I realize.
The second and third chuckle beneath their uniform, Elias grabbing his stomach while Kellen shakes himself free.
I could probably keep them laughing for a while, but I sent only a trickle of feeling to them.
The Commander is more difficult, not wanting to budge, so I increase his current, pouring more emotion into him.
He laughs—a short, startled sound that dies instantly, as if he’s horrified at his own reaction. The noise is so unexpected that several recruits whirl to stare. I’ve never heard such a cold laugh before, and judging by the way his muscles immediately hardens, neither has he. At least not recently.
Before my connection to him cuts off, raging heat forces me to step back.
At the same time, a high-pitched ringing blooms inside my skull, sharp and demanding, like my ears are bleeding on the inside.
My balance wavers, vision speckling at the edges.
I bite down on the sound clawing through me, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter.
He’s pissed.
He leans forward, towering above me as I shove my power far away, not wanting to feel a moment more of his anger. How does he live with himself? It’s all-consuming, and I’d only had a taste.
I hold myself still as he bends so close our masks clink, the heat of his breath grazing my lashes. It’s terrifying. This man could crush me with a single thought, and there is nothing I could do about it.
“I should have sent you home after the first phase,” he growls. “You’re weak, slow, and physically useless.”
I freeze, uncertain how to respond. Has my demonstration backfired? Did I push too far?
After a tense moment, he straightens, his eyes not leaving mine.
“But I’ve only met one other Empath who could influence without touch like that.
You can stay.” His voice drops lower, whether to keep his words between us or sound scarier, I do not care.
“For now. But the moment you cease to be useful, you’re gone. ”
My throat tightens, and I walk away without saying anything, sweet relief trickling into my bones. Kellen dismisses one more recruit, leaving fifteen others plus me, along with the three leaders. He explains we’re here to train for a special assignment, but we do not need to know the specifics yet.
“Trust your superiors or leave,” he remarks in a flat tone when one recruit questions our forced ignorance. “Those are your options.”
I already know why our team was formed—to hunt the rumored group of escapees outside the perimeter.
It was the very information that spurred me to make such a rash, out of character decision.
Had I not heard Hardan mention the specifics, it would have been quite the shock to learn later that I’d be expected to capture women who managed to free themselves. I wouldn’t be able to do it.
I’m not sure I can, even knowing the truth.
The leaders briefly summarize our schedules and responsibilities.
Each one will focus on different skills; Arayik will handle tactical discipline, physical fitness, and combat readiness.
Elias plans to teach mental and empathetic flexibility, situational awareness, and adaptability in high-stress environments, further solidifying my theory that he is also an Empath.
Kellen will teach analytical and strategic skills, training recruits to think several steps ahead and adapt plans based on new intelligence.
Arayik raises a brow to add, “And remember this—if one of you screws up, you all pay. That’s how the team works.” Cryptic, though understandable.
As they speak, I bristle at the time I will be spending with the cold leader, given how poor my performance was in the physical tests compared to the mental ones. I’ll also need time with Elias, since I hesitated repeatedly today. I need to learn to remain calm and focused in every situation.
A skill I will gladly accept instruction on.
The level of thought put into their training surprises me.
I wonder why they need such sophisticated skills when their job is primarily to enforce laws and raid houses to capture women who are far weaker than they are.
Empathy training? For what purpose? I’ve never once heard of an Enforcer showing empathy to anyone.
The thought makes me sick because that’s how things should be, but they aren’t…
The Syndicate doesn’t want compassionate soldiers; it wants efficient, loyal ones.