Five years later
The Sanctuary's sunken briefing hall was silent. Seven figures stood in crisp formation, their white masks reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. Behind them, the head scientist took meticulous notes on a floating display.
The Savior entered. Silence deepened. Even the hum of the ventilation seemed to quiet.
He stopped at the center of the room.
"You are ready," he said, voice low, controlled, almost a whisper that carried across the chamber. "For the last ten years, you have been forged. Every muscle, every nerve, every thought—honed to perfection. Today, you will test it."
The girls didn't move. They had learned long ago that reactions were meaningless. Obedience was everything.
The Savior's eyes scanned them, unyielding. "You know what you are capable of. Do not doubt. You are faster than any human, stronger than armies of men, and more precise than the finest machine."
A pause.
"Your first mission," he continued, "is a compound owned by a competitor we have observed for months. Guards, technology, everything that stands between us and what we want… all will fall. Every one of them will die. You are not to hesitate. You are not to falter."
He turned sharply, leading them through the steel corridors of the Sanctuary. "You will be guided—coordinated via our secure comms. Follow the signals. Trust in the system, trust in each other, and above all, trust in your training."
The girls moved silently, obedient, but the weight of the words pressed on them in ways they could not yet name.
They reached a dark, underground room. Holographic maps floated above the table, showing the compound in excruciating detail. The Savior gestured to a small chest at the center.
"You will bring this back," he said. He lifted a vial filled with a faintly glowing substance. "This is the objective, the key to ensuring that nothing will ever threaten us again. Do not fail."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep across all seven. "And remember this…" His tone shifted, almost imperceptibly ironic, as he leaned slightly closer, though the masks made expressions unreadable.
"Let your light shine so bright, the world be blinded."
A strange silence followed, as though the room itself was holding its breath. The words hung in the air, ironic in a way only they would understand once the mission ended.
The girls turned, moving with machine-like precision toward the hangar. Outside, a sleek black helicopter waited, rotors already spinning. They climbed in without hesitation.
As the helicopter lifted off, cutting through the pre-dawn haze, the Savior watched from the Sanctuary's observation tower.
"Do not disappoint," he said softly, almost to himself. "Make the world feel the weight of the Saints."
Saint POV
The first time I felt it, I was only eleven.
A scientist's voice pierced the air:
"Extraordinary."
Then another, deeper, colder: the Savior. His tone was calm, precise. "What are her powers?"
I didn't answer—my mind was quiet, as it had always been.
"Her brain has mutated," he continued. "It can pick up the waves of other minds. She… she can feel others."
I blinked. Empath, he called it. Though I had no emotions of my own, I could sense the flickers in others: fear, curiosity, pride.
The Savior's voice sounded again. "Really."
For the next few days, they tested me. Every challenge, every exercise.
Catching rats in the organization—each movement calculated, precise. Their emotions gave them away.
Reading the scientists' subtle reactions, predicting their motions before they acted.
The Savior watched. His presence was heavy, all-encompassing. He smiled—the first time I realized he could smile.
"You're happy," I said aloud, though my voice held nothing but observation.
"Yes," he replied softly. "My work, two decades in the making… has not disappointed me."
Then, curiosity crept into his tone. "What are the powers of the others?"
The scientist's tone became clinical, precise, cataloging each one as if writing an instruction manual:
Jezebel: Salivary glands have been genetically modified to secrete a highly corrosive enzyme. Muscular control allows her to project it like a striking cobra with precision up to five meters. At high velocity, it can penetrate steel plates of medium thickness.
Esther: Retinal mutation and optical nerve enhancement allow near-perfect visual acuity beyond that of an eagle. Reflexive ocular focus integrates with our SS2Rifle targeting system, capable of striking marked targets at ranges exceeding ten kilometers. Cerebral processing ensures predictive ballistic adjustment in real-time.
Rebecca: Respiratory adaptation allows extraction of oxygen from water via specialized hemoglobin modification. Enhanced retinal sensitivity permits low-light and nocturnal vision. Thermoregulatory control and cellular metabolic adaptation allow prolonged submersion up to 800 meters with no risk of hypoxia or tissue degradation.
Tarma: Cutaneous and dermal melanocyte modification allows dynamic camouflage. When integrated with our advanced fiber-optic adaptive suit, her silhouette and thermal signature become virtually undetectable. Neural synchronization ensures reactive camouflage adjusts in real-time to environmental stimuli.
Seila: Vocal cord mutation and laryngeal reinforcement allow sonic resonance of variable amplitude. At calibrated frequencies, peripheral nerve disruption can incapacitate human targets. Maximum output generates systemic neurological shutdown if directed correctly.
Deborah: Musculoskeletal density has been enhanced via cortical-adrenal regulation. Adrenaline surges can trigger temporary hyperstrength exceeding 400% of peak human potential. Reflex arcs slightly enhanced, though baseline strength surpasses that of the other Saints, making her primary in close-quarters physical dominance.
The scientist finally paused, eyes on me:
"Even with all externalized abilities, she surpasses them in raw combat capability."
The Savior's gaze returned to mine.
"You're their leader," he said.
I looked straight at him. No emotion, no pride—only understanding.
She opened her eyes back in the chopper saying " I'm the leader.
The chopper's rotors tore the pre-dawn air as we descended. White masks gleamed under the faint light. No words were spoken; none were needed.
Deborah stepped to the front, her frame tense, fists clenched. The door slammed open.
She moved first. A single strike, and the reinforced entry gave way, splintering under her strength.
The chaos began.
Screams. Shouts.
The stench of fear clung to the compound. Guards scrambled, weapons drawn—but every movement was too slow.
Jezebel's spit hissed through the air like molten steel, burning armor and flesh alike.
Esther's rifle barked in perfect rhythm, each shot precise, each target falling without fail.
Rebecca slipped through shadowed halls, her night-adapted eyes catching every corner, neutralizing threats silently.
Tarma vanished into walls of shifting camouflage, appearing behind them before they even realized she was there.
Seila's scream fractured nerves, guards collapsing mid-step, their muscles seizing.
Deborah tore through anything that moved, her strength unmatched.
I moved with them, observing, sensing.
Every pulse of panic, every spike of fear, every desperate thought—flowed through me, filtered, predicted. My path was exact, inevitable.
The halls were filled with chaos: men begging for mercy, pleading for lives already forfeited. Their voices bounced off walls, some sobbing, some screaming.
None mattered.
We reached the underground bunker.
Empty. Clean. Silent.
I froze for a moment, feeling the faint tension of unseen eyes, the echo of what should have been.
Back in the chopper, the Savior's voice came through the comm:
"Although we did not retrieve the object, the mission was a success. The compound is obliterated, the enemy neutralized."
We had left nothing. Floors, walls,
defenses—all gone. The enemy base had been wiped clean. Oblivion had done its work.
The rotor blades cut through the smoke and dawn as we rose. Masks unyielding, we were silent. No victory cry, no celebration.
Only the methodical hum of the chopper and the faint tremor of adrenaline lingering in our veins.
The Savior's words echoed in my mind again:
"Let your light shine bright."
I closed my eyes. Bright, yes—but only because it burned so cold.