Chapter 16: Trust Issues (I).
『"Trust is earned in drops and lost in buckets."』
"Your Spirit Weapons are unique." Maya’s voice came through the speakers. "Each one responds differently to your will, emotion, intent."
She paused for a brief moment.
"But they’re all just tools. When it comes down to it, the most important thing you can rely on? The people standing next to you."
They all looked at each other, exchanging glances that ranged from uncertain to determined. Amara felt it. A recognition that they were in this together, whether they’d chosen it or not.
"And that brings us to today’s trust training," Maya continued. "With your bodies strong enough now to draw out and hold the form of your weapons for extended periods, this should be manageable. So let’s have Amara and Ethan give us a demonstration."
Amara’s stomach dropped slightly. Just perfect. She was called first. Because that always went well.
Maya tapped some controls, and Level 1 drones began materializing in the simulation space as small hovering constructs that looked vaguely insectoid, each one glowing with soft blue light.
Amara and Ethan stepped forward, and a barrier, like a translucent dome materialized. It enclosed them with the drones, while the others watched from outside.
The next moment, a blindfold construct appeared over Amara’s eyes as black pixels, forming a solid band that completely blocked her vision.
Ah. Trust training. She was beginning to understand what this exercise was all about. Although she hated being blindfolded.
"The goal is simple," Maya confirmed. "Ethan will direct you. You deal with the drones. Communication and trust, that’s what we’re testing here."
Angel’s Bane formed in Amara’s grip, the familiar weight settling into her palm. She held it steady despite not being able to see.
"Are you ready?" Ethan’s voice came from somewhere to her left.
"Sure," Amara said, keeping her voice level.
"Alright," Maya called. "Let’s begin."
The drones began to move. Amara could hear the soft hum of their propulsion systems, the whir of their targeting systems locking on.
They fired light concussive beams that would do minimal damage but would definitely hurt nonetheless. And the emission of their beams were intentionally loud, giving away their positions.
"Eleven o’clock!" Ethan called out clearly.
Amara turned in that direction and deflected the beams with her blade. She dashed forward based on the sound and cut down the drones with precise strikes.
It was easy. Too easy.
The truth was, she was relying primarily on her sense of hearing rather than Ethan’s directions. The drones were loud enough that she could track them.
The next batch approached differently.
These ones fired silent shots while the simulation room emitted firing noises in completely opposite directions, a deliberate false signal designed to mislead.
"Three o’clock!" Ethan called out.
But Amara heard something to her left, a displacement of air, the faint hum of a charging weapon. She turned toward the sound instead.
The beam struck her shoulder. It wasn’t necessarily painful, but jarring enough to make her stumble.
"Amara, I said three o’clock! Your right!" Ethan said.
"I heard something on my left!" she protested, recovering her stance.
"That’s the simulation! Trust what I’m telling you!" He shot back.
Another wave approached and Ethan called: "Nine o’clock, two targets!"
But Amara heard that same displacement of air behind her. So she spun and swung.
Her blade cut through empty space and beams struck her from the direction Ethan had indicated, the direction she’d ignored.
"Amara, just listen for once!" Ethan pleaded.
"I am listening!" She was getting frustrated now, the blindfold making her feel trapped and vulnerable in ways she hated.
"Six o’clock, directly behind you!"
Amara heard noise to her right. She pivoted that direction, blade raised.
Another miss. Another impact from behind.
"I said behind you!"
"You said six o’clock!"
"Which is directly behind you! You turned the wrong way!"
With more drones came more directions and more times she second-guessed him.
When her instincts screamed one thing, he said another.
Trusting someone else’s eyes felt fundamentally wrong when she’d spent her whole life trusting her own judgment.
The beams kept hitting her. Small impacts that added up, bruising her pride more than her body.
"Ten o’clock, moving fast!"
She heard something at two o’clock. She turned and struck at air.
"Amara, you have to trust me."
"I’m trying!"
"No, you’re trying to do it yourself!"
"Maybe if you’d proven yourself trustworthy, this would be easier!"
The words came out harsher than she’d intended, fueled by frustration and the growing realization that she was failing this exercise spectacularly.
There was silence from Ethan for several seconds. Then he continued: "Two o’clock, cluster of three."
Amara hesitated, torn between the direction he’d given and what her ears were telling her. In that moment of indecision, all three drones fired simultaneously and the impacts knocked her off balance completely.
She ripped off the blindfold construct, and it shattered into pixels around her fingers. "I’m done," she said as Angel’s Bane vanished from her grip, dissolving into motes of black light.
"Okay then," Maya said carefully, and the barrier and remaining drones disappeared. "I’ll let you take a minute."
Amara walked toward the others, where Hiro, Raj, and Sophia were watching with varying expressions of sympathy and discomfort.
"Hey," Ethan called out but she kept walking.
"Hey!" He grabbed her arm.
"What!" She spun to face him, yanking her arm free.
"Why couldn’t you just trust that I was pointing you in the right direction?" He sounded genuinely hurt beneath the frustration.
"Just like you pointed us in the right direction for three months?" The words came out sharp. "Or was it two years? I’m losing track of how long you’ve been lying to everyone."
Ethan’s expression closed off. "That’s not fair."
"Isn’t it?" Amara turned and walked away before he could respond, before she could say something she’d regret even more.
She thought she was over it. Over the betrayal of finding out he’d been hiding his entire life from them. Clearly, she wasn’t.
"That was painful to watch," Hiro said quietly as she reached the group.
"And awkward," Raj added with his usual brutal honesty.
"What’s the deal with both of them?" Sophia asked, eyes moving between Amara and Ethan.
"I’ll text you the details," Raj muttered.
Then Maya’s voice cut through the tension. "Let’s try something else."
She tapped a button on her control panel.
Immediately, Sophia clutched her head with both hands and collapsed to her knees, screaming in pain.
"What the—" Hiro rushed over to Sophia. "What—Sophia?" Then he looked up, toward the control room. "What did you do!?" he shouted.
Sophia kept screaming. A raw, agonized sound that sent a chill down Amara’s spine. Then blood began dripping from her nose.
Amara and Ethan rushed over simultaneously, their conflict forgotten in the face of immediate crisis. And she crouched down beside Sophia.
"What’s happening?" Amara demanded, looking up at the window of the control room.
"Sophia," Maya’s voice was calm. "I need you to focus. Block out everyone else and focus on your team. Let them ground you."
"It’s too much!" Sophia screamed, hands pressed against her temples like she was trying to hold her skull together. "There’s too many voices! I can’t—"
Hiro realized what was happening. The psychic dampeners, Maya had turned them off.
Instantly, acceleron materialized on his feet in a flash of red light. Winged boots like lightning given form.
He moved like a red streak toward the observation chamber where Maya, Dante, and Yelena stood. Raj ran after him, but even with his enhanced speed, he couldn’t keep pace.
Hiro reached the chamber of the control room in seconds, slamming through the door. "Turn it back on. Now!"
Maya’s expression remained calm but resolute. "I’m sorry, Hiro, but this is the only way she can learn to control it. The helmet amplifies everything. She needs to learn to filter, to focus, or it will consume her."
Hiro’s eyes shifted from Maya to the control panel, then narrowed with dangerous intent.
"Don’t do it, kid," Dante warned, stepping forward.
Red lightning began crackling around Hiro’s body, more intense than before, arcing between his fingers, his hair standing on end from the static charge. He felt it pooling, gathering, wanting to be released—
"I said turn it on!" From the speakers, Amara could hear him. Hiro’s voice had gone cold in a way none of them had heard before.
"She’ll never learn if we coddle her," Maya said with sympathy in her voice. "Sometimes the only way through pain is through it."
Hiro’s gaze locked onto the control panel, and his muscles tensed.
"Hm," Yelena spoke for the first time. "You interfere with training, you make her weaker. Not stronger."
Below, Sophia’s screams intensified. Amara could see blood dripping onto the floor now, could hear the agony in every sound.
"Screw it." Hiro’s body blurred with red lightning as he dashed forward faster than sound, reaching for the controls—
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