RESET OF THE SOUL

NEW ORDER HQ – Main Courtyard

A crackling announcement echoed through the loudspeakers of the central building, shattering the stillness of a misty morning.

> "All patrollers, Black and Red sections combined: immediate assembly in the main courtyard. Order of the Director."

The message repeated three times, a sharp reverberation through the concrete corridors. Moments later, the courtyard darkened with rows of uniforms, lined up at attention, rigid as statues. Their faces betrayed no emotion — the SERENEX was doing its work.

The Director appeared on the platform, flanked by two Red Patrollers. His icy gaze swept across the crowd. He waited until not a single breath disturbed the air.

— We lost more than twenty men in just two days.

His voice cracked.

— Twenty. Because of your incompetence. Because of those... Réminiscents.

Barely audible murmurs surfaced among the ranks, quickly smothered by the weight of fear.

— These remnants of the past are becoming more active. Their influence spreads. And you, supposed shield of order, you crack.

He paused, then continued:

> "Incompetence. Weakness. Laziness. The real problem isn't the Réminiscents. It's your failures."

Glances exchanged. No one spoke. No one breathed too loudly. The Director pressed on, merciless:

> "As of today, rest hours are halved. Patrols are increased. Order never sleeps. Neither should you."

A silent tremor spread.

> "About the Réminiscents..." He tightened his fists. "They are gaining ground. Their propaganda is contagious. They are becoming dangerous. And if we lose control, it won't be because of their strength—but because of your weakness."

The silence returned, heavier than before. The hologram went dark. The courtyard was consumed by a cold tension, wordless and ominous.

---

ACADEMY – Classroom 7.4

The wall display broadcast the day's directives in a monotonous voice. Students, seated in perfect rows, stared ahead with mechanical attention. No murmur. No sigh. No exchanged glance.

Aedan's seat, fourth row left, remained empty.

It caused no surprise—no concern. Only a quiet flicker on the attendance system. The supervising AI scanned the room with a red eye before continuing:

– Today's topic: "Neural Structure & Behavioral Modulation Post-SERENEX – Part 3."

No reaction. Fingers tapped rhythmically on clear keyboards.

No one seemed to notice that Aedan's profile hadn't been deactivated in the system. It still flashed on the screen, like a ghost in the machine.

---

REMINISCENTS BASE

Meanwhile, in the Resistance base, morning seemed nonexistent. Mechanical clangs, crisp gunfire, and synchronized voices of recruits training echoed for miles, crushing all remnants of quiet.

— Where is the new recruit? asked Arthur firmly.

— I'm not her bodyguard, as far as I know, Naël replied sharply without looking up.

— She's probably still asleep, said Denivela as she approached. Yesterday's events must have shaken her. She wasn't ready... for all of this.

— If even humanity's hope rests in her hands, I fear this revolution won't happen this century, said Alpha appearing from nowhere. Go wake her, Arthur.

— Understood.

— Do it... as gently as possible, added Alpha with ambiguous tone.

— I won't forget, replied Arthur with a smug grin.

He headed toward Elya's room, wearing an unsettling expression.

— Alpha...

— Can we focus on training? snapped Denivela.

I'm fine, he added, calmer.

---

When Arthur entered Elya's room, a scream ripped through the relative calm. Yet nobody in the base reacted.

— AAAAAH! Elya screamed as she tumbled out of bed, crashing hard onto the floor with a dull thump.

— Up, princess. You didn't pick the right century to sleep through your awakening, said Arthur while setting down an empty bucket.

Elya glared at him, hair tousled and face creased by sleep. Her academy uniform was crumpled and clung to her wet skin; her bare feet shivered on the icy floor.

— Seriously... Waking someone at zero-degree water? You want me to freeze or die?

— Don't worry, you're alive. And you'll stay that way if you move. Training starts today.

— Ever heard of "gentleness"? A simple "good morning" would've done.

— That's exactly what I just did. Come on, it's already 11am. Alpha is waiting.

— Fantastic. I'm soaked to the bone. Want me to dry off?

— Stay like that.

— This is a joke...

Before she could protest, Arthur grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of the room.

— What are you doing?! Let go! she shouted, trying to pull free while slipping on the floor. — I don't even have slippers, my feet are screaming for mercy! And this uniform! I look like a depressed sponge!

— You'll dry during warm-up.

— You deserve jail. Real jail. One where walls wake you up with cold water every morning!

Arthur smiled faintly, not slowing down.

— Welcome to the Réminiscents.

---

Stepping into the main corridor, Elya was blinded by stark white, artificial light. This wasn't sunlight—there was none here. Morning was swallowed by mechanical sounds, sharp human cries, the pounding of boots on metal, and the dull hum of armed systems.

She froze.

An enormous underground training facility sprawled ahead. To the left, trainees lunged at moving holograms; to the right, others assembled weapons blindfolded. In the center, controlled duels unfolded under a supervisor's harsh commands.

— What... is this? An army? A cult? she muttered under her breath.

Arthur finally released her wrist as they stood before Alpha.

— This is the Resistance. Well... part of it. And you'd better keep up.

— Great... I'm soaked, starving, exhausted... and I feel like I'll pass out in five minutes.

— Not going to die. Just sweat. A lot.

Alpha watched silently for a few seconds then moved forward, arms crossed.

— Is this her? She looks like a breeze could blow her over. She won't last five minutes in the training I've planned.

— If that's the case, I can take over. I'll teach her infiltration skills, said Arthur with a smug grin.

— More like pickpocketing, you mean, Naël mocked.

— Remember, she has intelligence far above average, Denivela intervened calmly.

Alpha raised an eyebrow.

— What do you suggest then?

— Don't rely solely on physical training. If she learns to leverage her mind, she could infiltrate the New Order's network better than any of us.

Alpha nodded slowly.

— Fine. Naël, you handle her physical training and weapons. I'll ask Paper to oversee her IT training.

— Great. I didn't sign up for babysitting, protested Naël.

— Really? I'm the assignment?

— And me? asked Arthur.

— You… you're infiltrating the Academy to recover her belongings before the patrollers do.

— Why do you always give him important missions, groaned Naël.

— Enough. Denivela, take her. It's time she meets those who believe in her, said Alpha firmly.

Denivela nodded and led Elya across the main hall. Heads turned.

Alpha climbed onto an elevated platform at the center. His voice echoed across the base:

— Attention, Resistance.

Silence fell instantly. All exercises froze. Footsteps halted. Holograms paused.

— We all know what it means to suffer. Many here lost siblings, children, parents... because a government chose ease, forced upon us their poison, SERENEX, to better control us. Many died. Many vanished. Yet... we still stand.

He paused.

— You never surrendered. Even at the edge of despair, you stayed. For them. For the future. And today…

A heartbeat.

— ...today our wait ends. Because we have finally found the antidote.

A collective roar erupted. Cheers, applause, some dropping to their knees, others embracing. Pain and hope mingled in the euphoria.

— Yes, my brothers. The antidote exists. And it is here, among us.

Then Alpha turned to Elya and stepped forward, gesturing for her to advance.

She stiffened instantly, trapped under dozens of expectant gazes. She glanced at the crowd—faces marked by loss, brimming with hope. Her heart pounded. She had no idea what was happening.

She tried stepping back, but Denivela's hand on her shoulder prevented it.

Alpha continued:

— Here is our hope. The one through whom everything can finally change.

Silence hit like a wall. All sound ceased as if the world stopped. Eyes turned inquisitive. A voice cut through:

— This is a joke?

— Are you mocking us?

— Our hope is... a kid?

Murmurs surged into waves of indignation. Fists clenched. Elya stood frozen, arms hanging stiffly, unsure where to look. Her throat went dry. Her breathing shallow. She had the sensation the floor would open beneath her feet at any moment.

She wanted to speak, to defend herself—but no words came.

Then Denivela stepped forward, firm and calm.

— Listen well. I know this seems unreal. But it's the truth. She's Elya Denver... daughter of Nick and Julia Denver.

The words hit like thunder. Protests died instantly. Some stepped back; others stared in disbelief.

Elya dropped her gaze. She hadn't asked for this. She didn't want this label. She wasn't ready.

And somewhere deep inside, she wondered: what if I'm not enough?

---

At that same moment, somewhere in a cold, impersonal building, an hologram flickered to life before a young boy with a composed face.

— So, explain why you're not at the academy today, Aedan? the Director's voice boomed, authoritative.

Aedan lowered his head,

expression serious.

— Director, he replied simply. It is part of my plan.

— And what plan is that? the Director pressed, eyes stern.

— The plan to infiltrate the Resistance of the Réminiscents, Aedan declared without hesitation.