The doors closed behind them.
It wasn't a loud sound—just a pressurized hiss followed by a heavy, metallic thud—but it was final. The hospital, the recovery, the safety of the known: it was all on the other side of that seal.
The hallway stretched forward, a gauntlet of polished tile and harsh, controlled lighting. It was too clean. Too quiet. Jessie's footsteps echoed against the floor, each strike steady and measured, projecting a strength he didn't entirely possess. Inside, his body was screaming. Micro-tearing detected in right arm. Neural strain increasing.
Recommendation: Reduce output immediately. Jessie didn't slow down. He didn't blink. He simply locked the pain behind a firewall of sheer stubbornness.
Leo glanced sideways, his artificial eye whirring softly as it tracked the micro-tremors in Jessie's gait. "...You good?"
Jessie smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Why?"
Leo studied him for a beat longer than necessary. He didn't believe him—they both knew it—but he let it go for now. "...Just checking."
Ahead of them, the General was a silhouette of rigid purpose. "Stay close," he commanded without looking back.
They turned a corner, then another, passing through layers of security that felt fundamentally different. Before, the armed guards had been a cage meant for containment. Now, their eyes followed them with a clinical, wary observation.
"They're looking at us different," Jessie muttered.
Leo exhaled a tight breath. "Yeah. Feels like we're not the only people in the room anymore."
Jessie's eyes flicked forward. "...We're not."
The weight of that realization sat between them, heavy and unavoidable. They weren't just patients or survivors. They were assets. They were anomalies.
The Exit Corridor
The hallway widened into a grand artery of glass and reinforced steel. Beyond the transparent walls, the facility was a hive of activity. Staff, analysts, and tech crews were everywhere, all pretending to be absorbed in their work while their eyes remained glued to the two young men walking past.
Jessie slowed slightly. "...They're not even hiding it."
"Would you?" Leo huffed.
Jessie didn't answer. Because the truth was, he wouldn't. PRIME:
External attention levels: Elevated. Psychological pressure increasing. Jessie's jaw tightened. Good. Let them look. But as the thought crossed his mind, his hand twitched again—a rebellious spark of energy deep beneath the skin.
They reached the final glass door. The General stopped, pressing his palm against a biometric scanner. ACCESS GRANTED
The doors slid open, and the world hit them.
It was a wall of sound—chaotic, overlapping, and violent. Voices shouted, questions merged into a singular roar, and the strobe-light effect of dozens of cameras flashing at once turned the corridor into a disorienting nightmare.
Leo froze for a split second, his sensory input overstimulated. "...Oh."
"...That's new," Jessie whispered.
The press was a literal tide, held back only by a thin, straining line of security.
"IS IT TRUE—"
"ARE THEY WEAPONS—"
"WHO IS IN CONTROL—"
"ARE THEY SAFE—"
The noise slammed into Jessie like a physical wave. He felt the weight of it—not just the sound, but the expectations of a world that was suddenly terrified and fascinated by him.
Leo leaned in, his voice barely audible over the din. "...You wanna go back inside?"
Jessie let out a short breath, a dark sliver of a laugh. "...Kinda."
But he didn't stop. He stepped forward, moving past the General.
"Jessie—" Hal started, reaching out to stop him, but it was too late.
Jessie raised his hand. It wasn't an aggressive gesture, nor was it defensive. It was simply... enough.
Something subtle shifted in the air. The atmospheric pressure seemed to tighten, and the noise dipped. It wasn't absolute silence, but the shouting faded into a low, uncertain murmur. The entire space leaned in, captivated.
Jessie looked at them—really looked at them. He didn't see hatred, not yet. He saw uncertainty.
"...You done?" he asked.
The question wasn't loud, but it carried. The cameras remained steady, thousands of lenses acting as the eyes of a waiting world.
"You want answers?" Jessie continued, his voice steady. "I'll give you one." He looked directly into the nearest lens. "We're not your enemies. But we're not yours to control, either."
The statement landed with the force of a physical blow. Behind him, the President watched with an unreadable expression. The General stood perfectly still, his posture shifting into something more defensive. This wasn't the scripted PR moment they had envisioned.
"But we are here to help," Jessie added.
A sudden, jagged flicker of pain shot up his arm. His fingers curled involuntarily. PRIME:
Warning: Threshold approaching.
Jessie shoved the warning aside, grinding his teeth. "So you can either work with us... or watch from the sidelines."
The silence this time was real. No shouting. No chaos. Just the sound of a world processing a new reality.
Leo leaned in. "...You just told the entire world to pick a side."
"...Yeah," Jessie muttered back.
"...Hope that works out."
The Break
A camera flashed—too close, a burst of artificial lightning that seared Jessie's retinas. He flinched, just for a millisecond, but it was enough to break his concentration.
CRACK.
A thin, jagged line of blue light snapped across his forearm, visible for only a heartbeat before vanishing. But in a room full of high-definition cameras, "gone instantly" didn't exist.
Leo saw it. "...Jessie."
"...I'm fine," Jessie snapped, his jaw tight enough to crack.
The General moved instantly, sensing the shift. "Move. Now!"
Security surged forward, creating a human wall. The moment was broken, the crowd forced back as the group was hurried toward the exit. But the damage was done. Every camera had caught that spark. The "weapon" had flickered.
The Vehicle
They were rushed through the final barrier and into the open air. It was night. The air was cool and the sky felt impossibly wide. Jessie inhaled sharply, the taste of freedom sweet on his tongue—until he saw the black transport waiting with its engine idling.
"Inside," the General ordered.
Leo climbed in, Jessie following. The door slammed shut, finally plunging them into a blessed, muffled silence.
Leo turned to him immediately, his expression grim. "...What was that?"
Jessie leaned back, his head hitting the headrest. He closed his eyes, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath him. "...Nothing."
"No. Not nothing," Leo countered. "...You're hiding something."
Jessie opened his eyes. The smirk was gone. The joke was dead. There was only the raw, exhausting truth. "...I know."
The vehicle began to move, the lights of the facility blurring into long, white streaks against the glass.
PRIME:
That is incorrect.
The General moved instantly, sensing the shift. "Move. Now!"
Security surged forward, creating a human wall. The moment was broken, the crowd forced back as the group was hurried toward the exit. But the damage was done. Every camera had caught that spark. The "weapon" had flickered.
The Vehicle
They were rushed through the final barrier and into the open air. It was night. The air was cool and the sky felt impossibly wide. Jessie inhaled sharply, the taste of freedom sweet on his tongue—until he saw the black transport waiting with its engine idling.
"Inside," the General ordered.
Leo climbed in, Jessie following. The door slammed shut, finally plunging them into a blessed, muffled silence.
Leo turned to him immediately, his expression grim. "...What was that?"
Jessie leaned back, his head hitting the headrest. He closed his eyes, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath him. "...Nothing."
"No. Not nothing," Leo countered. "...You're hiding something."
Jessie opened his eyes. The smirk was gone. The joke was dead. There was only the raw, exhausting truth. "...I know."
The vehicle began to move, the lights of the facility blurring into long, white streaks against the glass. PRIME:
Critical threshold approaching. Immediate training required. Jessie watched the world move past. "...Then we train," he said quietly.
Leo leaned back, his own gaze fixed on the passing shadows. "...Yeah. We train."
Deep inside Jessie, past the micro-tears and the neural strain, something answered. It wasn't a warning this time. It was a cold, hard acknowledgment of the path ahead. PRIME:
Acknowledged. It wasn't the end of the ordeal. It was the beginning of something much more dangerous. The world had seen them. Now, it was time to show the world what they could actually do