Chapter 65
Zion knew something was very wrong when he watched Breno rolling around in a patch of lemongrass, looking water-intoxicated.
He immediately headed for the tech team, crossing the corridor in long strides.
Their location was outside the walls—a container facility built specifically for the test. The room was large, filled with computers, and a wall of screens rose directly ahead of him.
In addition to Zion, Lionel, and Kaori, there was a tech team of ten Vinturians—all human—wearing dark blue lab coats with the silver Yamamoto family crest on the chest. They manned the computers and controlled the drones monitoring each student.
Over the days he'd spent there, Zion had memorized the team leader's name—Takeshi—so he addressed him directly:
“Did he drink the water?” Zion asked, pointing at the boy smiling up at the sky.
Breno knew about the water—it didn't make sense for him to be intoxicated. Hearing the question, Takeshi quickly pulled up the footage and scrubbed through it at high speed.
“No. He had to wade into the middle of the lake to retrieve a vial. He tasted the water but spit it out.”
Zion studied the test map. To make tracking students easier, they'd divided the circular perimeter like a clock face.
Each hour marked a different zone. Kyller and Adele were in the south at six o'clock; Breno was at eight; Hiro had started at twelve o'clock but inexplicably made his way toward nine and found Aish halfway there.
During the test, Zion hadn't been paying much attention to the other students—he only had eyes for Kyller's screen and had missed the details about Breno. If Breno had only touched the water, the toxicity level must be extremely high.
Zion turned to the director, who had been watching quietly.
“Did you test the water?” he asked, his voice tight with worry as he analyzed each student's heart rate.
Six competitors were intoxicated—more than ever before.
In previous tests, it had been easier to rescue them if something serious happened, but today, if six students needed immediate help, things would spiral out of control.
“We did. All the lakes were within safe levels.”
Zion pointed at the screen.
“Does this look like it's below the safety level to you, Lionel?”
The director swallowed hard. Zion told himself this had nothing to do with chimeras—and even if they got that close to the area, they wouldn't be able to penetrate the barrier. He glanced at Kyller's screen, where she was now eating a roasted bird, and swallowed hard, forcing down his paranoia.
“Look. Breno just went into the water and he's on the ground. His heart rate is at fifty beats per minute—this is clearly severe intoxication.”
The director narrowed his eyes at the camera and scratched his head, thinking as he watched the staggering students. Lionel was an authority in Interion, but even he knew to stay out of the general's way.
“Pull up the water data,” Lionel told the tech team. Soon, the data appeared on screen. “See for yourself—the maximum permitted level is six milligrams per liter. A week before the test, the water was at four milligrams per liter.”
Zion examined the images—there really were photos of the markers. The director was telling the truth.
“So what happened? This isn't normal,” he demanded, watching the intoxicated students wander aimlessly. “We need to stop the test before things get worse.”
He couldn't let the paranoia take hold—he needed to trust that the barrier would protect the students. The director shrugged, distracted by a fight breaking out between two alliances on the other side of the field.
“We can't stop the test because of the water.”
Zion clenched his fists, fighting the urge to punch the wall. With every passing minute, he felt more certain something was very wrong with the test—his students looked like mindless zombies.
“Then have a psychic warn them about the toxicity—we can't risk the safety of so many students. In previous years, we dealt with two or three intoxications, but six? It's too dangerous, and the number could keep climbing.”
Zion watched as Ethan, intoxicated, tumbled down a ravine and landed at the bottom, where even more contaminated water pooled.
“Shit!” The general slammed his fist on the table, and the director looked at him, startled. He turned and strode to the desk of a man on the AI team. “Contact a psychic. Tell him to come immediately.”
He wanted to call Serguei, but the king had given clear orders that the man was not to leave his side during the test. The city was full of foreigners, and Elitium feared an attack. Serguei accompanying the general to the barrier was out of the question.
“The king won't like hearing about your interference in the test,” Lionel complained, scratching his neatly trimmed beard. “But you're right—we're losing control of the test. The nations might not view this favorably.”
In the midst of all the tension, Zion watched Lorena wandering aimlessly in the darkness—then a boar attacked her.
The girl could barely register what was happening when the animal barreled into her.
The Interian fled, staggering between the trees, and stumbled into a trap that yanked her into the air, a rope catching her ankle.
He took a deep breath, pressing a sensitive point between his eyebrows, and turned his worried gaze to the screen showing Kyller and Adele in the tree. The two were safe, but an uncomfortable sensation prickled under his skin.
“General. Gael, the captain of the fifth squadron, is outside waiting. He’s the only one we have available at the moment,” Takeshi announced, pulling Zion from the tangled mess of his thoughts.
Before leaving, he looked at his second-in-command, who wore the team’s blue jumpsuit and seemed just as worried as he was, twirling a strange necklace between her fingers that resembled a flattened black egg. It was the same one he’d seen on the hospital nightstand when he’d visited her.
“Let me know if anything happens with Kyller.”
She tucked the device inside her uniform collar and saluted, then sat down near the screen to get a better view.
Zion led the psychic to the edge of the blue dome and called Yugo, the blocker stationed at the test’s control center. He needed to ask the man to open part of the barrier so the psychic could get inside and communicate with the students. Even telepathic power was blocked in there.
The phone rang until it went to voicemail.
Zion called a second time, but got the same result.
He paced back and forth while making a third attempt.
Each ring turned the itch under his skin into an icy chill down his spine.
He ended the call and dialed Kaori’s number—and to his immense relief, she answered on the first ring.
“Kaori, try calling Yugo. He’s not answering.”
The phone went silent, and two minutes later she responded.
“He’s not answering. We’re sending a drone to notify him.”
Zion waited on the line again. He was growing impatient, and that sense of danger was pushing past what he could bear.
He tried to convince himself they weren’t chimeras, since no connection between them and water had been proven so far—it was just an observation he and his men had made.
He wanted to believe the algae were simply spiraling out of control due to some natural cause.
And one last time, he told himself there was no way the chimeras could get through the barrier.
“General?” Kaori called from the other end of the line. The way she said it made Zion’s heart race. She was using that clipped tone she had when saluting—the battle voice that usually preceded trouble. “The drone crashed. We’re sending a second device to the location.”
“Has a drone ever crashed without reason?” he asked, trying to keep his composure.
Gods! He was hyperventilating, his chest heaving rapidly. He was a general with two hundred years of experience, but he felt like a clueless teenager whenever his partner was involved.
“No.” That was the answer he got, while he heard his second-in-command kicking one of the boys off the console to take his place and launching into a relentless clatter on the keyboards.
Zion ran his hands through his hair and stayed on the call.
His mind raced through a thousand theories.
He took a deep breath for the tenth time and touched the dome, making it glow blue—impenetrable as an iron wall.
“Fuck. The second drone crashed too.” Zion thought he was having a heart attack. “The drone in area one just went dark.”
The psychic beside Zion stood wide-eyed. He didn’t dare speak a word, and Zion preferred it that way—he was afraid he’d explode at anyone who did. His heart was pounding so fast and loud he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.
The two were staring at the barrier when they heard a muffled scream from one of the students.
A sound of pure terror. Moments later, a red flare shot up.
His heart stumbled once, as if pausing before the wild sprint that followed, along with the raw terror that flooded his chest. A single word refused to leave his mind, filling every corner and blocking any coherent thought. Not a word—a name: Kyller.
“The signal came from area one.” Kaori’s voice pulled him from his paralyzing stupor.
Immediately after, Zion heard noises and several voices speaking at once. He couldn’t make out what they were shouting.
“General, Elias Náthila’s heartbeat has stopped.” The woman sounded shocked on the other end. Zion heard, in total despair, another scream that cut off abruptly. “Dalila Merid’s heartbeat has stopped too.”