Chapter 53: Pressure Rising.
『"Pressure? What Pressure?"』
Director Hale stood at the head of the table, holographic displays floating around him showing security feeds, personnel files, and data streams.
"We’ve identified the device the messages to Amara were sent from," he announced without wasting time, getting straight to the point.
"That was fast," Hiro said.
The Director pulled up a file, and a face of a young man, maybe mid-twenties, with dark hair and tired eyes materialized in the holographic display.
"Michael Chen. Junior researcher, communications department. Three years with the Institute, clean record, no disciplinary issues."
The Director’s jaw tightened. "He has no memory of sending those messages and medical scans show temporary neural corruption that’s since faded."
"Possession?" Ethan asked, leaning forward with his focus fully engaged.
"Most likely," the Director confirmed. "Our best assessment is that he was controlled only briefly without leaving any obvious traces. Clean in, clean out."
He swiped through additional screens showing neural scans with subtle anomalies highlighted in red. "We’re increasing security across all departments, but this tells us our enemy has considerable reach."
"How considerable?" Amara asked, her arms crossed tightly beneath her chest in a gesture that looked composed but was really just her trying to hold herself together.
"That," the Director said grimly, "we don’t know. Which is what concerns me most."
"So what do we do?" Sophia asked from her position against the wall, arms crossed defensively.
The Director dismissed the screens with a gesture. "You keep training. You prepare for your deployment to Tokyo. And you trust that we’re handling it." His gaze swept across all of them. "That will be all."
As they filed out of the briefing room, Hiro was lagging behind and Amara noticed his expression. It was distant and unfocused—or rather, too focused on something internal.
"You okay?" she asked quietly as they walked down the corridor.
"Yeah. Just thinking." He met her eyes, and for a moment she saw the gears turning behind them. "Something doesn’t add up. I need to figure out what."
Then he threw his head back with a self-deprecating laugh. "But I should be asking you that. You’re the one who got threatened."
"I think I’m okay," Amara said, though even as the words left her mouth, she knew they were only partially true.
She relaxed her arms slightly, trying to appear less tense than she felt. "The Director assured me my parents are safe, so that’s... that’s good."
Hiro studied her for a moment, and she could see him processing—not just what she said, but what she didn’t say. "You know," he said carefully, "it’s okay to not be okay, right?"
"I know," Amara said. "I just... I need to focus on what I can control. Training. Preparing. Making sure we’re ready for Tokyo."
"Fair," Hiro said, though she could tell he didn’t entirely buy it. "Just don’t forget to, you know, feel things. Process. All that healthy emotional stuff Sophia keeps trying to make us do."
Despite everything, Amara smiled slightly. "I’ll keep that in mind."
They parted ways at the elevator, Hiro heading to his room and the others toward the training grounds.
But Amara couldn’t shake the feeling that Hiro’s mind was already somewhere else entirely, chasing threads no one else had noticed yet.
***
Four days until Tokyo, and the training had intensified to match the urgency.
They worked within the ARTE pod and several Institute agents supervised the session, while Maya oversaw everything.
In one corner, Sophia stood perfectly still, eyes closed, her helmet glowing golden around her head. When her eyes snapped open a moment later, her entire posture shifted.
She flowed into a perfect karate stance, feet positioned exactly right and executed a combination that would’ve taken years of training to learn naturally.
"Check it out," Sophia said, somewhat breathlessly, gesturing toward Agent Park who was scrolling through a tablet. "He knows karate. Now I know karate."
She threw a few more strikes, testing the borrowed muscle memory with fascination. "It’s weird. Like watching someone else’s hands do the work while my brain just... goes along with it."
Maya nodded approvingly from where she observed. "You’re getting better at using your Spirit Weapon. Less mental resistance."
Sophia paused, rolling her shoulders. "Technically I don’t actually know karate. But for the next ten minutes or so, my brain thinks I do."
She executed another combination, this time adding a spinning kick that looked effortless. "It fades pretty fast though. And I have to maintain visual contact with whoever I’m copying for now, which is limiting."
"That’s still cheating," Raj called over from where he was bench-pressing six stacked grav-plates, each stack calibrated to simulate fifty tons of downward force. "You know how hard athletes like myself work for those skills?"
Before ranking up, he’d struggled with half this weight. Now he made three hundred tons look easy.
"Sue me," Sophia shot back with a sharp smile. "I’ll use every advantage I can get."
Meanwhile, across the training area, Amara stood in an isolated practice zone, Angel’s Bane manifested in her hands.
She was trying to summon the white flames again, the purifying fire that had helped exorcised away the ghosts so effortlessly the night before.
Except now, with witnesses and pressure and the weight of that threat message still sitting heavy in her chest, it wouldn’t come.
She focused, channelling her energy through the blade and felt for that connection that had responded so naturally when she’d needed it.
The blade flickered with white sparks appearing along its edge. Then sputtered out and died.
"Damn it," Amara muttered, trying again.
Maya approached carefully. "Don’t force it. The white flame responds to intent, not just will. You need to be clear about what you’re trying to accomplish."
"I am clear," Amara said, perhaps more sharply than she’d intended. "I’m trying to make it work."
"Why?" Maya asked simply.
The question stopped Amara cold. Why? Because they had a mission in four days. Because someone was threatening them. Because she needed to be stronger, better, and more capable of protecting her team.
Because she was terrified, angry and felt completely out of control, and if she could just master this one thing then maybe—
The blade flickered again as white flames danced along its edge for half a second, then died completely.
"Goddamn it!" Amara shouted, and hurled Angel’s Bane toward the wall in frustration.
The sword spun through the air and embedded itself in the reinforced training wall with enough force to punch clean through, the blade sinking in up to the hilt.
Then it vanished, dematerializing back into her spiritual essence.
Silence fell across the training ground and everyone had stopped to look.
"I’m fine," Amara said to no one in particular, though she very clearly wasn’t. "I’m fine. Just need a minute." She turned and walked quickly toward the exit.
Maya made no move to stop her, just watched her go with a look that implied she understood exactly what was happening.
***
Across the training grounds in his private section, Ethan had been practicing defensive maneuvers against multiple combat bots simultaneously.
The bots attacked with varied assaults—psychic blasts, disintegration rays, kinetic missiles. He was supposed to be building up his ability to layer multiple shield types simultaneously under pressure.
But the moment he heard Amara shout, saw her throw her weapon, he halted everything and the bots powered down immediately.
"Pause training," he said to the supervising agent, already moving toward the exit. "I’ll be back."
The others tried to follow but he held out his hand. "I’ll go," he said to them and ran after her.
Moments later, he found her in the corridor outside the ARTE pod, pacing with her arms wrapped around herself, breathing as though she’d been running.
"Hey," he said quietly, approaching slowly like she might bolt. "Talk to me."
"I’m fine," Amara said automatically.
"You just threw your sword through a reinforced wall and stormed out of training," Ethan pointed out gently. "You’re allowed to not be fine."
Amara stopped pacing and looked at him, her composure cracking.
"I can’t get it to work," she said finally. "The white flames. I could do it perfectly when we needed it against the ghosts, but now when I’m trying to train, trying to learn it, nothing happens."
"Because you’re forcing it," Ethan said. "You’re trying to control something that probably doesn’t work that way."
"Then how does it work?" Amara’s voice cracked slightly. "Because we have four days until Tokyo, and I can’t even master my own weapon properly, and—"
She cut herself off, breathing hard.
Ethan stepped closer and pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her, not caring if he was in a semi-public space where anyone could see.
"We’ll figure it out," he said quietly. "You will figure it out. But maybe not today. Maybe today you just need to breathe and accept that you’re scared and that’s okay."
Amara buried her face against his shoulder for a moment, allowing herself that brief comfort. Then she pulled back, wiping her eyes quickly. "I should get back to training."
"You should take a break," Ethan countered. "Go for a walk. Clear your head. The training will still be there in an hour."
Before Amara could respond, movement caught their attention.
Hiro appeared at the other end of the corridor, already backing toward the elevator with an obvious guilty body language.
"I need to head out early," he announced, moving faster with each word. "Got... a thing. Important thing. Very important engineering thing."
Amara’s bullshit detector immediately went off like an alarm. "What thing?"
"Project thing. Lab thing. You know how it is." Hiro was practically vibrating now, his usual nervousness cranked up to eleven. "Lots of... technical stuff."
"Bullshit," Amara said, loud enough that Hiro froze mid-step.
"What?" Hiro said.
"I don’t know what you’re planning, but you’re lying about it." Amara crossed her arms, some of her earlier frustration finding a new target. "You okay?"
"Yeah! Totally fine! Just tired. Need rest. You know, rest things." Hiro was backing toward the elevator again. "So much resting to do. Okay bye!"
Red lightning crackled around his boots, and he vanished in a blur of speed, leaving only a faint burning smell and the echo of displaced air.
Ethan and Amara stood there for a moment, staring at the space where Hiro had been.
"That was weird," Amara observed.
"That was Hiro being Hiro," Ethan corrected with a small smile. "He’s obsessing over something. Probably the message, the possession, all of it. Give him time. He’ll either figure out whatever he’s chasing, or drive himself completely insane trying."
"Or both," Amara added.
"Definitely both." Ethan laughed.
"You were right," she said after a moment, leaning against the wall. "I need a break."
Ethan nodded. "Good call."
"But just for an hour," she added quickly. "I just need a moment to figure out my..."
"Your shit?" He said with a grin.
"Yeah." She smiled. "My shit."
"Well, if anyone can figure out their shit, it’s you.." Ethan pressed a kiss to her temple. "But for the next hour, no training. No weapons. No stress. Deal?"
"Deal," Amara agreed. "Maybe I’ll go check up on Hiro."
"Sounds fun." Ethan pressed one more kiss on the back of her hand and returned back to the pod.
As Amara walked the corridors, her mind wandered back to Maya’s question. Why was she trying to summon the white flames?
To be stronger. To protect people. To have control.
But the flames had come naturally when she’d needed it. So maybe that was the key. Just... trusting it would come when needed.
Well, whatever it was, she’d figure it out. Eventually.
***
Red lightning flashed as Hiro materialized inside his room.
"Alright, let’s get to work," he said to himself as soon as the door sealed shut behind him.
In front of him was a board, and by his desk sat photos, notes, and a lot of red balls of yarn.
By the time he was done, his conspiracy board would be complete.
The kind you saw in detective movies when someone was obsessing over a case. Which was exactly what Hiro was doing.
Because something about this whole situation didn’t add up. And he was going to figure out what.
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