Chap 168: Target
The five teenagers found themselves on their fourth outing to a Vergant “village.”
Zod still thought it was the weirdest thing to call it that. “Village” implied tiny huts, dusty streets, and maybe a goat or two. But that place? That place looked like someone took the idea of a utopia and then overclocked it.
There, homes weren’t built—they were grown. Towering trees had been shaped into multi-tiered dwellings, their branches braided and woven to form balconies, bridges, and winding staircases that shimmered with bioluminescent veins.
Floating crystal gardens drifted lazily in the air, their blossoms glowing faintly like captured moons. Entire observatories and terraces rotated gently in orbit around the main trunk of a home, held aloft by unseen forces. In the central square, massive faceted towers—grown from translucent minerals—rose like living monuments, refracting light in shifting rainbows.
And the air… it smelled faintly sweet, like cold fruit in summer.
Their arrival drew curious but warm-eyed Vergant citizens. One of them—a tall figure draped in robes that looked spun from liquid frost—stepped forward with a gracious bow. “Greetings, O Sentinels. Behold, I bring unto thee a frozen delicacy.” he announced, his voice carrying the lilting cadence of a performer.
Zod and Miko nodded and stepped forward.
With a graceful flick of his fingers, a miniature crystal lotus shimmered into being in each of their palms. The petals unfolded with a hushed, musical hum, each one made of translucent frost-glass that seemed too fragile to hold—yet was somehow solid. At the center, swirling motes of cryomantic stardust spun together, condensing the very air into a sweet, velvety ice cream that steamed in reverse—wisps of frost curling upward like enchanted smoke.
“Delicious!” Miko exclaimed after her first bite, her eyes lighting up.
Zod grinned. “We needed a treat. After all, we did technically save the future by taking out Varrak.
He glanced back at Tee, still puzzled by her lack of a crest. “Why don’t we split up like last time?”
Saeda’s voice was sharp. “You mean like when the weird explosion happened and killed hundreds of people—split up?”
As before, their telecoms were configured for individual teleportation, so Zod either didn’t catch her point or simply didn’t care.
The Vergant offered Tee her own lotus, but she shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Miko and Zod wandered off together, laughing about something Zod had said. Miko, glancing back, caught the flicker of sadness on Tee’s face.
Zod, on the other hand, just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Tee’d been covert that whole time—hiding her Xeno-victim status—still gnawed at him. Selfish, he thought.
Saeda and Kie stayed to collect their frozen treats. Tee, resigned to solitude, found the wide, curved root of an ancient tree and sank against it. The bark was warm from the sun. She closed her eyes, telling herself she enjoyed the quiet, that she preferred it to standing awkwardly beside the others.
“Those two look awfully close these days—Miko and Zod,” Kie said, keeping his voice low.
Saeda didn’t hesitate. “They’re a couple now.”
Kie turned to her so fast he nearly dropped his lotus when it was handed to him. “What? When did that happen?” His brows knit together. “I mean—how?”
He replayed moments in his mind. The way they always volunteered to cook together, the shared looks across the table, how easily their shoulders brushed. Those two do spend an awful lot of time in the kitchen, he admitted silently. His gaze drifted past Saeda. “Does Tee know about it?”
Both of them looked over.
Tee sat with her knees drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around them, head tilted back against the tree. From a distance she looked calm, almost peaceful, but there was a stillness to her that made Saeda’s jaw tighten.
“Doubt it,” Saeda said at last.
Silence stretched between them. Kie kept staring a moment too long, then looked away, guilt flickering across his face as if he’d been caught doing something unkind.
“I don’t feel sorry for her,” Saeda said, sharper than necessary.
Kie exhaled. “I need her to get the Seal.”
Saeda shrugged, turning her attention back to her melting treat. “Fine. I could use some alone time anyway.”
Kie nodded once. “Don’t go too far.”
“I’m not a child. You can track me on my telecom if you care that much.”
Kie accepted two crystal lotuses and walked toward Tee. Saeda peeled away to explore the village.
When he sat beside her, Tee’s first instinct was suspicion. Gratitude didn’t come easy those days. He handed her one of the lotuses.
“It’s not iced-coffee,” she muttered, eyeing it. “It’s crap.”
“If we get clearance from the Commander to go to the modern world again, I’ll get you an iced-coffee,” Kie said evenly. “What do you say?”
“I say you’re desperate. I’m never wearing a crest—at least not until all MG dogs start wearing leashes. I’d lose all my pride.”
He looked at her and thought of her future self—the one he’d been with. The one who hadn’t been so stubborn. The one who’d looked at him with that aching, unguarded want. He couldn’t reconcile that Tee with the one beside him. They weren’t the same person. And yet… without the current Tee, they never would have stopped the MegaSapian.
His thoughts tangled with memories he didn’t want—her controlling monsters with dark power, her unflinching in battle. His chest felt tight. He took a bite of his ice cream instead, letting the cold numb his tongue.
Tee’s voice pulled him back. “Why are you doing this? Hanging around me? You made it clear we're over.”
His answer came through a mouthful of lotus. “When you mutate, I’m going to be the one to kill your MegaSapian. And I’m making sure you get the Balance Seal to stop more pointless bloodshed. I’m not hanging around because I like you.”
Her lips curved into a mocking grin. “Oh, you care about people dying. Maybe I should make sure there’s no space between us. The closer to the MegaSapian, the better.”
She shifted closer until their arms touched. She expected him to recoil, but he didn’t move. Something about that unsettled her more than an argument would have.
“Thirsty,” he muttered.
The nickname hit like muscle memory—part insult, part something else.
“I get you want me to get the Balance Seal,” she said, “but shouldn’t you be holding an Ultramana sword to my neck instead of… whatever this is?”
“Force is never the best answer,” he said.
“And the treat?” she asked, eyeing it with disgust.
After a beat, he said, “Depressed people drain my energy. I have to stay sharp. I’m going to be a god, Tee. Nothing can stop me.”
She rolled her eyes at his obsession.
“Come on,” he said, standing. “I’m not sitting here with you all day like some loser.”
She looked up at him, her eyes searching for something she hadn’t expected to find. Had she misjudged the person called Kie? The image she had built in her mind—the corrupt MG-off wannabe, the Xenogenist—crumbled in an instant.
Spending time with him had revealed something entirely different. He wasn’t the rotten apple she had assumed. He was just… alone. Like her. A solitary figure without anyone to lean on. But unlike her, he hadn’t had to lie or manipulate to survive. He had carried himself honestly, quietly, through a world that didn’t make it easy for loners.
She felt a pang of something she couldn’t name—respect, maybe, or the faintest whisper of connection. Though he might not stigmatize her, she knew the world she had grown up in, the cruelty she had witnessed against Xeno-victims, had shaped her choices. Those memories justified her actions. She regretted nothing—not her defiance, not her rebellion. Only… only the misfortune of being caught. That, she admitted silently, was the true tragedy.
She blinked, then followed. They wandered the village without speaking, passing under snow-hailing archways, through wind tunnels that sang like choirs, by libraries where shelves floated and reshaped themselves midair to hand you the exact book you wanted.
Eventually, they took a small boat across mirrored waters. Kie rowed while Tee leaned over the side, watching drifting blossoms reflect against the sky.
She wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.
By the time they returned to Primus, its steel-and-stone monotony felt dull compared to the Vergant village. Tee’s mischievous streak was quietly at work, though—plotting, needling. She liked that Kie was keeping close, but she wasn’t about to admit it. Whenever she caught him in her periphery, she’d flash him a grin just spiteful enough to make him wonder what she was thinking.
“Just get the Seal,” he said finally, his voice low and sharp.
“They’re trying to kill me,” she shot back. “There’s too much I haven’t seen. I’m not ready to die.”
Kie gave her a skeptical look. “Aren’t you the one who wanted to face Lilith alone? Who went head-to-head with that MegaSapian hybrid—Varrak’s father? You’re not afraid of dying… right?”
She didn’t look at him. “Getting killed by Lilith is at least a noble death. Fighting for something that matters. Maybe even stopping a horrible future on my own. That’s worth being remembered for.”
“Zod’s right,” he said. “You’re selfish.”
She turned to face him suddenly, halting mid-step so he stopped a few paces away. “Fine. I’ll take you up on your offer to go out. But on my terms.” She tapped her tablet, its screen flickering to life behind a password he wouldn’t get past. “I’ve made a list of things I want to do before I die.”
He didn’t bother hiding his skepticism. “Fine. I’ll help you cross things off your list so you can be prepared to die.”
Tee swallowed the ice.
The first thing she wanted? A trip to District One-twenty—Primus’s famed romance district. A place lined with candle-lit courtyards, glass-ceilinged cafés, and rooftops draped in starlight.
Kie’s mouth tightened. He’d told her about it once—back when she’d made him rest his head in her lap during their once-was relationship.
She didn’t notice his discomfort. She was already preparing.
The next day, she appeared in the corridor in a soft yellow dress Miko had given her. Her white hair fell loose, shining like spun glass, its ends brushing the crest at her neck just enough to keep it mostly hidden. The red lipstick and faint blush weren’t for vanity—they were camouflage.
“How do I look?” she asked.
Kie was leaning against the wall, eyes fixed ahead. “You look fine,” he said too quickly.
He wore his purple Mid-Guard uniform with the precision of someone born into it, every fold crisp, every buckle perfectly in place. A single, glinting earring caught the light at his ear—subtle, but enough to draw the eye.
Tee thought he looked… infuriatingly beautiful, though his expression was the same bland, unreadable mask, as if the world around him barely registered.
“You look fine too,” she replied, breezing past him toward the stairs.
When he glanced at her back, his pulse betrayed him. The dress shifted with her steps, catching light across her slim waist and the easy sway of her hair. Unwanted memories threatened—her future self, the way she’d looked at him, the way the world had felt quieter with her near. He forced himself to look away.
They still had leftover money from their last outing and The Lieutenant had given them a fresh credit chip. Enough for the day.
District One-twenty was vibrant and crowded, the air fragrant with roasted sweets and perfumed candles. But Tee’s anxiety was a constant hum. The crest at her throat felt like a branding iron.
Some passersby stared too long, whispers curling behind her back. Others veered into her path deliberately, shoulders grazing hers hard enough to bruise. No one tried it with Kie. Maybe they assumed he was assigned to watch her.
It wasn’t just the crest. Xeno-victims had a way of carrying themselves—shoulders hunched, gaze lowered, the weight of the world pressing down. It was easy to recognize a living embodiment of hopelessness and despair. Unless, of course, they were covert.
Tee tried to ignore it all, ducking into the arched doorway of a small theatre. But a guard blocked her. His voice was sharp and officious. “Hair back.”
She hesitated, then swept her hair aside, revealing the crest. His expression twisted into disgust. “Crests are to be displayed at all times. You know that. Out. Now!”
The commotion drew eyes. Voices began to hiss around them like snakes. MG troopers and officials moved toward the scene. The shame in her throat burned hotter than any sun.
“We don’t need that place,” Kie said, already walking.
She tried to follow, but the stares pressed into her skin like needles. Her breaths came shorter, her chest tight. A fight with a Harbinger would have been easier than that.
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” Kie called back over his shoulder.
Before she could answer, instinct screamed at her—move.
She shifted just in time. Something hissed against the ground where she’d been standing, eating into the stone. Acid.
Both their eyes snapped to a trooper in retreat, hovering away on a floating hover-board. The crowd’s hostility made sense—someone had tipped him off.
Tee’s throat felt raw. “What did I ever do to them?” She knew the answer. She existed.
Rage burned through her, hot and slicing. She wrenched a chunk of concrete from the wall, the sheer force in her hands splitting it in two. Her target was clear—the trooper trying to escape.
Kie’s eyes widened.