A NEW BEGINNING

Sermon of the Mad Prophet from the Streets of Grim Nad

“Three hundred and eighty-three years ago, they awakened. Beings of metal descended from the Beacon—silent, unwavering, like heralds of a new order. They brought peace and justice.

Or so we believed.

But the blood on their hands tells another story. Their steps led through ruined cities, through the ashes of those who dared to resist.

And still…we accepted them.

We worshipped them. We lived off the gifts they used to buy our silence. 

Bread instead of war. Technology instead of toil.

It was easier not to see. Not to hear.

Easier than to admit that these monstrous guardians of our lives had made mankind a conquered species.

The Beacon wrapped us in its light, a sweet promise of endless safety and effortless living.

Everyone brayed with joy, drunk on the dream of a world without pain, in the shadow of its towers.

But the shadows of the Beacon were deeper than we ever imagined.

And we forgot them.

We forgot the blood.

We forgot the fear.

But the Beacon...

The Beacon did not forget.

Nor did its guardians.

And in the days when their gaze falls upon us once more, the world will again face the cruel truth. A truth that will decide the fate of us all.”

Ela, the Beacon, and the Circle Assembly

Ela stood silently at Tonot’s side, trying not to betray, by the smallest flicker of her face, just how deeply today’s Circle meeting was affecting her. Inside, everything screamed. Roared. Clawed. She longed to step in, to speak, to intervene, but she knew the moment hadn’t come yet.Keeping a neutral expression was growing harder with every word spoken.

“For my part? I’m not convinced you know what you’re doing with this one,” said Borin, standing in the center of the Circle, invited as the voice representing the Modificants.

It wasn’t his first time. The Circle met like this regularly to review results and evaluate the successes, or failures of individuals. Ela knew Borin was always harsh on new modificants. But she had never heard him speak with such bias. Not like this. And especially not about Reng.

They used to be friends. Borin had saved him. Had gone looking for him to make sure he was alive. So what had changed between them?

“Let’s not kid ourselves,” Borin went on. “Most of us started out as trash scraped off the bottom of a pit. We worked our asses off to pay back the second chance we got. But him? He’s a problem. Always kind of was. Physically, sure, he’ll make it…hell, I’ve seen him survive worse. But he’ll never be one of yours. Not really. His brain won’t let him. He’ll always be that backwards hick from Karhen Rouz, stuck in his own damn head.”

Borin gave a dismissive snort and added a sweeping gesture, as if to drive his point home for everyone present. Ela tried to make sense of it. 

Where was all this coming from?

She had never heard him talk like this. And this was the first time it seemed one of the modificants might be discarded before even getting a real chance to prove themselves.

It was obvious Borin meant to bury him. 

But why?

“You’re saying he’s mentally unstable?” asked Mediator Nylen in a calm tone.

But through the meco, Ela felt the flicker of doubt it stirred in Tonot.

She couldn’t tell, though, was Tonot doubting his own judgment, or Borin’s?

“Yeah,” Borin smirked. “Sounds way fancier than ‘he’s stupid,’ but yeah, we’re on the same page.”

Ela had to fight to stay in control.

Everything inside her screamed to stop this, to defend Reng. But she knew that would only weaken his position. She couldn’t allow her anger to cause him even more harm.

She felt Tonot’s presence inside her mind grow stronger. It was like his thoughts were calming her, slowing her breath. Stay calm, he sent, though he didn’t speak a word.

He must have sensed how shaken she felt, and she was certain he’d factor that into the outcome of this session. She’d noticed long ago: the emotions she fed him subtly influenced his decisions. But now… she had no idea whether this current storm of rage would help Reng, or hurt him.

“This subject was supposed to have the best predispositions,” Nylen said wearily, his eyes sweeping the room. “We’d hate for this to be a wasted investment. Time is pressing, and we can’t afford to waste resources on the incapable.”

Ela shifted her weight and lowered her gaze, trying to hide the revulsion rising inside her. She hated that word. Subject.  To them, even Reng was just a number. A line in a file. But to her, he was a person, someone who laughed, suffered, and loved like anyone else they spoke of with such cold detachment.

“So you’re telling us this modificant is unfit?” The voice sliced through the room like a blade. Sharp, clear, and impossible to ignore. It belonged to Iriya. Her calm yet unyielding presence made even Nylen lift his head.

Ela caught a glimpse of the third werren in the chamber. Solos had remained quiet at the edge of the Circle. Until now. That Iriya, his mediator, chose to speak was unexpected and her voice sent a chill down Ela’s spine.

Before joining the Beacon, Iriya had been a highly successful scientist. Her background lent her immense credibility, far more than Ela could ever hope for. Standing among people like her only reminded Ela of how small she truly was. Yes, she was the mediator of a prominent werren, but she herself... she was nothing.

“You must realize,” Iriya continued with uncompromising precision, “that unless he is mentally stabilized, I cannot imagine he’ll ever achieve neural sync with the armor.”

Ela understood immediately. She was referring to Mobzar, the combat drug the modificants used. The same drug Miren had spoken of with such loathing. It was Iriya’s creation.

“I believe he can do it,” Ela said, summoning every ounce of courage to step into the conversation. “He’s only just begun his training, and everything is still too fresh. He’s the newest addition to the program, so it’s entirely logical that he lags behind others with a head start. And certainly, he cannot be compared to those who’ve been here since the beginning. Moreover, and unlike many, he was selected without consent. We all know such individuals have greater difficulty adapting.”

“True,” Nylen acknowledged. “And most of them were removed precisely because they never fully adapted. If one of you, either you, Mediator, or Tonot, had seen fit to inform us in advance, I doubt, given our past experiences, that we would’ve approved his inclusion in the program. But judging by your current zeal, I assume the real reason he’s here lies on a more personal level. It’s not difficult to guess that, since both you and he come from Karhen Rouz, as I’ve recently learned, you must know each other personally.

I fear your personal involvement in the selection of future modificants is becoming an uncomfortable trend, one that Tonot should take into account. And rein in your increasingly one-sided choices.”

“She had no decision-making power in this case. We were the ones who chose him, based on parameters completely unrelated to his mediator.”

A surprised murmur rippled through the Circle. Every werren had a mediator, a human intermediary meant to give the discussions an illusion of variety. Unlike humans, werrens didn’t differ much in views or opinions. All linked through the same Unconscious, they had no need for debate. Disagreement among them was rare.

Which made these sessions more of a performance than a true deliberation. It was the human voices that proposed nuance, alternatives. Their werren counterparts remained silent, unless someone deviated drastically from the expected line.

That Tonot spoke himself was highly unusual. And precisely because of that, the room fell into sharp focus.

“So you're vouching for him?” Nylen scratched his chin thoughtfully, eyes shifting uneasily between Tonot and Ela.

Tonot nodded, and Ela barely managed to suppress the rush of relief—and overwhelming gratitude.

“And what if your choice proves to be a mistake?” Iriya’s gaze was a blade.

Ela felt it slice through her, sharp and probing, as if trying to uncover weakness.

“I hope you’re aware that this man was a member of the unit that brought the transmitter to the Sindar Lad headquarters. According to intelligence reports, he was the sole survivor of that unit after the Letras assault. Which, naturally, casts suspicion. There’s a theory that he might have been the one to activate the transmitter, helping Letras locate our base.”

Ela’s heart stopped for a moment. Iriya’s frigid voice awakened doubts she didn’t want to face. But what if… no. No, that was impossible. Reng would never—he’d never do that.

“By the whiptail! They pulled him from the rubble, he would have died without help! Was that part of this alleged conspiracy too?” Ela cried, her voice rising with desperation.

She turned to Borin, grasping for the one person who might still defend Reng meaningfully.

“Please… say something. You can’t honestly believe he’d be capable of that?”

Borin shrugged, unbothered.

“Hard to say,” he replied slowly. “That cave-in probably wasn’t part of the plan, but accidents happen. That whole place was a mess. Anyway, the Reng I used to know? He wouldn’t have done it. But the one I see today? I wouldn’t bet my life on him.”

Ela stared at him in disbelief, and Borin returned her look with an indifferent expression. Yet there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his eyes, he was clearly relishing every moment he could make things worse for Reng.

“Nonon would be able to find out,” came the sudden voice of Lazzal, Nylen’s werren.

The room fell into an uneasy silence.

Ela froze in horror. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that name, but until now, she hadn’t known that the werren responsible for several deaths was still alive. And not just alive. Most likely held somewhere inside the Beacon. That realization did nothing to calm her nerves.

“No!” Tonot’s rejection was sharp, sharper than Ela had ever heard from him.

Through the meco, she felt a wave of fury, but also something else. Something she could only describe as genuine fear. Could a werren be afraid? Apparently, yes.

“Nonon is, and will always remain, our very last resort. And we are not wasting that on an ordinary modificant. You all know full well he wouldn’t survive the interrogation.”

The Circle fell silent again. That name had left a bitter, heavy imprint in everyone present.

“So?” Nylen asked at last, clearly fed up with the day’s proceedings.

Tonot paused, his gaze locking onto Ela, as if searching her face for the answer to Reng’s future. At last, he made his decision.

“We’ll transfer him fully under our personal project. Under our responsibility.”

“That’s against protocol,” Iriya said, frowning. “You’ve already taken Borin under your wing. The rule is clear. Only one modificant per personal project.”

Ela looked at Tonot with hope.She sensed his hesitation. Borin was his showcase…his prime example. He had invested time, effort, reputation. Everyone knew it. And maybe that’s what made his next words so shocking.

“Then I relinquish Borin.”

A stunned silence fell over the Circle.

Ela fought to suppress the surge of joy that filled her, but it was made easier when she saw Borin’s face. The fact that Tonot had given him up in favor of a raw newcomer wasn’t just unexpected. It was suspicious.

Her gaze met Borin’s, and she couldn’t miss the pure hatred flashing in his eyes. His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to speak, but no words came.

She understood. He knew exactly what this meant. He had lost the one thing that gave him privilege: his uniqueness.

And Ela knew, now more than ever, that Reng was going to have a real problem with Borin.

***

“That wasn’t exactly a wise move from Tonot,” Seren said coldly as she and Ela talked that evening about the meeting.

“Why not?”

“What do you think Nylen did right after the session ended?”

“What?”

“He contacted the Council. He wants to launch an inquiry into Sindar Lad and Reng’s potential involvement.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Ela shrugged. “I don’t believe he had anything to do with it.”

“And if he did?”

Ela shook her head firmly. “No. He’s not like that. I know him. He wouldn’t betray us. Besides, I trust Tonot. By standing up for him, he showed that Reng genuinely matters to him.”

“Are you really that naive?” Seren’s tone turned unexpectedly sharp. “Let me spell it out. Werrens, Tonot included, don’t actually care about humans. So if he backed Reng, look for the motive. He took him under his wing because he had already invested in him. That’s why he kept him separated from the others from the very beginning.”

“How?” Ela sighed, lying back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

She was looking forward to finally closing her eyes and getting a proper night’s sleep.

“Reng is listed with a neuroregulatory module in his implant record. That’s a highly unusual enhancement and one with no real use in standard protocol.”

“And what does it do?”

“It’s a selective mental shield. It blocks access to his limbic-cognitive pathways.”

Ela let out a small, frustrated snort. Seren was probably doing it on purpose. She had to know Ela wouldn’t understand a word of it.

“In any case, if I were you, I’d try to talk to Tonot. And maybe don’t wait too long, because for the third time in the past few days, he pulled Reng straight from training and is currently running him through the third arena. And from what I can see in the simulation settings, it’s not suited for someone in his current condition.”

“What?!” Ela shot upright, her need for sleep instantly gone.

It took her a moment to grasp what Seren was actually saying. Arena? But Reng was barely ready for basic training. So what was Tonot playing at?

“That’s right. And apparently, Tonot’s not testing him physically. He’s targeting his psyche. Probably connected to that neural module.”

Seren vanished before Ela could press for more details. But she’d said enough to make Ela get up, determined to do exactly what she’d advised. As she dressed, Seren’s final words echoed in her mind:

“Werrens never care about humans.”

Ela didn’t believe that. Seren couldn’t feel what she had felt through the meco when Tonot made his decision. Still, she couldn’t fully dismiss the possibility that she was right.

Deciphering Tonot’s signals remained a challenge. It was entirely possible she’d been projecting her own desires into what she perceived. She wanted to believe that Tonot cared about Reng, if only for her sake.

But maybe there were other motives. Maybe Reng represented something to Tonot that she had no understanding of.

Because if there was one thing she had already learned.Tonot still kept her at a distance. As if he didn’t trust her. She could only hope it was because she was still new. Young. Inexperienced. And that one day, he’d realize he could share everything with her.

But that wasn’t what mattered right now.

Now she needed to talk to him. Seriously. Because if Seren was right, Tonot’s pressure could destroy Reng.

Before leaving, she paused at her nightstand and opened the drawer. At the bottom lay a thin bracelet. Once gifted, once lost, now found again. She hesitated, then slipped it into her pocket and finally set out to find Tonot.

***

She found him exactly where Seren had said he’d be, standing on the observation terrace that overlooked the arena, offering a perfect view of everything happening below.

Ela stepped closer and caught sight of Reng moving through the obstacles in near-total darkness. Every step he took was heavy, hesitant, yet filled with stubborn resolve.

Her throat tightened. This wasn’t training anymore. This was punishment.

“At this rate, you’re going to break him,” she said quietly, though her voice trembled with restrained anger. “He’ll push past his limits and collapse.”

Tonot didn’t turn to her. His gaze remained fixed on Reng.

“He must endure far more than this,” he answered coldly. There was a sternness in his voice that allowed no room for argument. “His body was modified for this. But his results are... deeply disappointing.”

Ela clenched her fists and summoned the data through her meco. Graphs, readings, and warnings lit up before her eyes. All of Reng’s vitals were on the edge.

“A few days ago, he was half-dead,” she protested, her voice cracking. “Maybe his body isn’t performing as you expect because he’s still human, not a machine. He needs time.”

Tonot finally turned to her. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes that caught her off guard. Concern? It startled her. Werrens weren’t supposed to show something so… human. At least, that’s what Seren claimed. Maybe she was wrong?

“Time is exactly what we don’t have,” he said quietly at last. “Besides, all of his implants are functioning correctly. But something’s blocking them. They only activate at a third of their capacity.”

Ela frowned. “You think he’s doing it consciously?” 

A memory flashed through her mind. Reng, resisting as he came out of sedation.

Tonot shrugged, eyes drifting back toward the arena.

“Why would he do that?” But his tone was different now. More like he was hoping she had the answer.

She took a breath. “Maybe it’s his way of holding on to control over himself.” She paused, then offered: “What if I tried talking to him?”

Tonot’s jaw twitched. 

“We don’t want him forming an attachment to you,” he said, more sharply than she expected.

She studied him as he turned to her again, stern-faced. But beneath that, there was… something else. Curiosity? Concern? Jealousy?

The thought was absurd. And yet, she couldn’t quite dismiss it.

“Miren told me he keeps asking about me,” she said cautiously.

Tonot’s eyes remained cold. “Yes. We know.”

“Then why won’t you let us see each other?”

“Why should we?” he snapped this time, his tone turning defensive.

Ela pressed her lips together before replying: “Because keeping us apart is only making it worse for him. If Reng has anything, it’s stubbornness. And if he’s set on seeing me, he won’t stop until he does.”

Tonot stared at her for a long time. She could tell he was weighing her words, turning them over from every angle. When he finally nodded, the wave of relief that swept over her was so strong it made her dizzy.

“Very well,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Talk to him. Find a reason…”

He paused, looking back down into the arena.

“Find a reason we won’t regret giving up Borin for his sake. Because tonight, I do regret it.”