A NEW BEGINNING

Record from a civilian frequency – captured through extended monitoring of the Prim infonet. Source anonymous.

“This is not a lie. These are not altered images. I saw it with my own eyes. I was there when they decided to wipe us out.

Not even my wife… not even my daughter… they did nothing. We hid in the cellar when the alarm went off. We thought it was Letras. That it was their units. We prayed they would just pass by.

But they were not soldiers. They were not human.

They moved systematically. Without a word. Alters, or modificants, as you call them. They came with a single goal. To wipe out the entire village. I do not even know how many there were. One, two? Maybe ten. They were fast. Merciless. They did not stop until it was done.

We sat in that cellar for two days before we found the courage to come out. And then… I saw the bodies of those I knew. I do not know why they were killed. They were not fighters or terrorists. They were just ordinary neighbors. Friends. People like me. Like you.

We ran. And we tried to forget. No one would have believed us. No one… until now. When I saw that footage, I realized we are not the only ones.

And finally, we can tell the truth too.”

Ela, Circle Meeting

Ela stood beside Tonot in the coldly lit room, feeling the weight of the situation settle on her shoulders. She tried to focus, to convince herself she was fighting for the right cause. But even before the meeting began, she caught in the glances around her the accusations, the suspicion, and the fear. She already knew this would not be easy.

The room was unusually full. Nearly twenty werren with their mediators, some of them accompanied by additional assistants who did not want to miss today’s session. And none of them intended to waste time on polite circling.

“I hope it is clear to all of you that what happened is absolutely unacceptable,” Nylen opened the meeting, his voice tense, his eyes flicking over the gathered faces.

Ela glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She thought to herself how much could have been avoided if this man had not been so obsessed with the Scavengers.

“Your careless actions toward the Council have put the Beacon in a position where its credibility is undermined. Restoring our relationships will now be more than difficult.”

“I am afraid we have to agree,” added Dr. Irya Meddon.

“The entire project has gone off track. I was convinced it was about solving the situation in the South. Not about interfering in internal political disputes.”

Ela held her breath. It was from this woman’s laboratory that the compound had come, the one meant to increase the modificants’ performance but in reality mostly dulled their emotions. Mobzar was what made them… machines.

“As far as I know, we were not the ones who sent them after the Scavengers,” Ela objected firmly. She was not about to give up without a fight. As she spoke, she looked directly at Nylen so it was clear to everyone whom she meant. “On the contrary. I am considering filing an official protest over the misuse of our project.”

“You were the ones running the project. You bear the responsibility,” Fernel, another mediator, shot back. He was clearly not on their side either.

The room erupted into a buzz of voices, people shouting over one another, and for a moment Ela floundered, unsure what to do next. Finally, she took a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs:

“ENOUGH! That is enough…!”

It worked. All attention shifted back to her, and Ela exhaled deeply.

“I suggest we all calm down,” she continued, now speaking more quietly but still with enough urgency. “Mutual accusations will get us nowhere. We need to think strategically. The Council is not united, many still trust us, and they have no interest in an open conflict with the Beacon.

And as for the Scavengers all we need to do is remind people what they are responsible for. They are still a dangerous and ruthless group, the kind that has been harming everyone for a long time. The only thing that sets them apart from ordinary thieves and bandits is that they dress it all up in lofty speeches.”

She paused for a moment, realizing that part of the Scavengers group was Ked. Her own brother, whose unexpected appearance had briefly convinced her they might be interested in dialogue. Now, however, she had to decide whose side she would stand on. And when she looked beside her and saw Tonot’s anxious face, she understood that no decision was the right one. Each would claim its own victims among those she cared about.

“Let us remind people of the attack on the spongus mines,” she continued, determined to salvage what she could. “How many ordinary people died there? And why? Merely as a symbol of defiance against the Beacon, which offers people a future. The Scavengers, on the other hand, are the past, they have nothing else. It is in everyone’s interest that we end their existence. That way we will protect not only ourselves but also the ordinary people they care nothing about and only exploit.”

For a moment, silence fell. Then one of the werren leaned toward her. Solos. His motionless face softened slightly, not with irony as she had feared, but almost kindly.

“Your effort to resolve the situation is admirable, mediator. But it still does not answer the key question.

After all this, does Tonot’s judgment still carry weight? We have been observing him for some time, especially how his decisions have been gradually diverging from the Beacon’s general policy.

And now his actions have literally endangered our entire system.”

Tonot spun toward him sharply. Ela cursed inwardly. She could see how he was controlling himself with all his strength, and she doubted the others could overlook the storm of emotions inside him.

“You have no proof that my abilities are in any way compromised!” he snapped tensely at Solos.

“But after recent events, we have every reason to doubt that,” Fernel responded again, looking at the agitated werren with clear displeasure.

“It seems you are truly losing control over your project. That modificant who attacked you. That accident nearly cost you your shell, Tonot. Even back then, it was a signal to all of us that something was wrong with you. What if next time one of them attacks one of us? And today’s leaked footage? That is the last straw.”

Ela felt the distrust in the room thickening. And she could not blame them. Everyone sensed how the events of the past days had spun completely out of control, and no one knew whether it was still possible to turn them back in the Beacon’s favor or if all they could do now was try to soften the fallout.

Still, she felt she should do something. Say something. It was expected that she would defend Tonot; after all, that was her duty.

But…

In her mind rose everything he had told her. His intentions would never be approved by anyone standing in the circle now. Maybe if she stood against Tonot now, if she presented his true goals to everyone, she would win their respect. She would become the one who saved the Beacon.

No… she couldn’t.

Tonot’s fate was too tightly bound not only to her but also to Reng. And that mattered to her deeply.

“The modificant you are speaking of was not a standard case,” she said sharply, rejecting Fernel’s statement, and continued without hesitation.

“During the hunt for the Sleeper, he witnessed the loss of half his unit. He was traumatized and acted under extreme psychological pressure. He did not intend to harm Tonot, he merely misjudged the situation, disoriented from the prior influence of a creature that, as you all know very well, can alter your consciousness. Today he has fully returned to training, and according to all data, he shows no deviations.”

“Traumatized. That is such a convenient excuse you use for everything that happens. I am glad you reminded me of it, mediator,” Nylen smiled, his eyes narrowing slightly as if savoring his own tone. “Especially when I connect it to the case of your modified friend, who, in a fit of emotion, took her own life. Hard to find a stronger argument for public doubt, don’t you think?”

He took a few thoughtful steps back and forth before turning to her again. His voice still sounded so calm, velvety, almost gentle.

“I appreciate your dedication to this project, truly. But let us admit it: your personal ties to certain subjects are… disturbingly deep. Just look at the two we have mentioned. The girl who killed herself, with whom you were close, or the man who attacked Tonot and who was in a very intimate relationship with you.

Believe me, I would not bring this up if it were not necessary to see the full picture, which is clearly troubling.”

Then he lowered his voice, as if this time speaking only to her.

“To be clear, any werren fully synchronized with the Unconscious would avoid such attachments. And that is exactly what raises our questions. If he cannot maintain his distance and allows such things to happen, then what is he really? And what does that make you, when he continues to keep you by his side even though you visibly manipulate his judgment and influence his choice of candidates for the project?”

He looked her straight in the eyes, and in that gaze she saw how the others around perceived her. Young, inexperienced, emotionally unstable… weak. And against her stood him. Respected by all, cultured.

“It is not that I wish to attack you personally, as you are likely thinking now. This is primarily about trust. And that, I am afraid, you both have lost today.”

Ela narrowed her eyes. Anger was heating her cheeks. Just a few days ago, Nylen had tried to lure her to his side. He stroked her ego, flattered her, offered opportunities. Now that she had refused him, he was publicly smearing her. Like a child who did not get what it wanted.

“Then this is primarily your personal failure, Mediator Nylen,” she shot back. “You are the one who brought me here, you are the one who convinced me to become one of you.”

The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. And it was then that Ferrer stepped in.

“Enough!” he halted the debate with a sharp voice and a firm gesture. “We have a more serious problem than your personal animosities.”

A pause. Everyone fell silent.

“Tonot has made a series of mistakes in the past few days. We need to determine whether this is simply a failure of judgment or if there is something more behind it.”

Tonot slowly turned to him.

“Are you suggesting that I am… faulty?” His voice was calm, but Ela could feel through the meco how panic was rising inside him.

He was not human. He could not blush, he did not breathe faster, but even so, he was crumbling inside. And she knew why. His shell was faulty. And once they discovered that, it would be his end.

“We agree,” confirmed Irya Meddon, nodding as she kept her eyes fixed on Tonot. “If you are convinced you are fine, prove it. Diagnostics will hide nothing.”

“We support that as well,” Solos added. “It will help dispel all doubts. Do you agree?”

Tonot trembled slightly. And finally, he nodded. “Of course. I see no reason why I should resist. Diagnostics will surely confirm I am fine. And perhaps you will finally realize how wrong you have been.”

From the corner of the room came a deeper, unexpected voice. A werren named Naran, who had remained silent until now.

“And what about the modificants? If we want to regain lost trust, we need to take some action toward them. We must do something that convinces everyone that a few dead in some nameless settlement is nothing compared to their true value.”

Nylen shifted slightly, as if the debate had finally reached the point that truly interested him and where he wanted to be present.

“I do have an idea,” he said smoothly, in that detached tone of his, though what he then proposed was a completely lethal solution. “We will send them south. All of them. No exceptions.”

He paused, but before anyone could cut in, he continued, this time with more engagement:

“Letras is already on its last legs, and this will just accelerate the natural course of things. The modificants will clear it out, we will secure peace, and the public will recognize their true value. Once they clean the territory and secure access to key resources, it will be seen as a victory, and people love that. They will forget about a few dead in the middle of nowhere.”

Ela gasped. “You cannot be serious! You saw what a single unit did in Sindar Lad. If you send them all, it will turn into a massacre.”

“So what?” Irya interrupted her with chilling calm. “I am certainly not going to cry over the fate of those who pledged themselves to Letras. They are our enemies, they do not hide it. They should have surrendered long ago, but they did not. That is their fault.”

“I am not just talking about the enemy,” Ela burst out desperately, “but about our own people. We cannot control such a massive group. Remember how many of our own died simply because they were in the way. I am surprised I even have to remind you of this, Doctor, but with your mobzar in their blood, the modificants will tear each other apart. We have not yet been able to reliably synchronize more than ten people at a time. Why do you think they operate in such small groups?!”

The doctor frowned, visibly irritated at being lectured like a child in front of everyone.

“Yes, I admit there will be losses on our side,” she said sourly, but then added:

“But as they say… only the strongest survive. Those who remain will be the best of the best.”

Ela stared at her. After everything she had heard today, she was still shocked by the sheer callousness, rivaling the non-existent emotions of ordinary werren. It was all the more disturbing because it came from a woman Ela had until now considered one of the brightest minds of the Beacon.

“I thought,” she said quietly, “that you at least cared about them a little…”

For a moment, awkward silence filled the room. Then Nylen gave a soft chuckle. And there was not a trace of sarcasm in it. Rather… an amused wonder.

“Oh, come on,” Nylen raised an eyebrow, “did you really believe anyone cares about a few lost modificants? You may still see them as people, but the rest of us know what they are. A project. A tool for our victory. And now… an opportunity to gain more at a lower cost.”

Someone else smiled. Another nodded, as if Nylen had just defined the fundamental rules on which the Beacon’s operations were built.

Ela felt the corners of her mouth tighten. Not in laughter, but in shame at her own naivety.

What had she been thinking all this time? That someone in this room wanted peace? That they cared about lives, about sacrifices, about the meaning behind what they were doing?

No.

They wanted war. They had wanted it long before the first shot was fired. They hungered for it with the quiet obsession of those who believe they deserve everything they point their finger at.

As she watched them, she felt something inside her begin to crack. This Circle, this system… they were not stewards of balance. They were predators in red and black uniforms and polished shells. And right now, they had gotten the taste for another piece of flesh.

“So you will slaughter everyone in the South. And then?” she asked quietly and calmly, as if it was no longer even her speaking.

“Then we will see,” Nylen answered, and there was not a trace of pretense in his voice. “If they prove effective, why not continue? Letras might be just the beginning of something bigger.”

Ela turned pale. She slowly turned to Tonot.

On the surface, he appeared calm. But through the meco, she could feel his internal structure trembling.

He was powerless. And so was she.

“So it is decided,” Ferrer declared, nodding his head.

His voice sounded curt and impersonal, as if he had just summarized a routine vote.

“The modificants will be sent south. Tonot will undergo diagnostics tomorrow morning under the supervision of a technician, and we will proceed further according to the results.

I remind you that by the decision of the Circle, you are both stripped of all authority until the completion of this process. Your future roles will be determined later.”

Silence fell. Everyone knew this was the end.

“Excellent,” Lazzal added with satisfaction. “Nylen and I will take over supervision of the modificants. And today we will contact the Council to confirm that the situation is under control. At the same time, we will inform them of the steps that will follow.

With this, today’s Circle is concluded.”

As Ela left the room, she felt a wave of sorrow and anger overwhelm her. Like a tide that could not be stopped. The colors on the walls darkened, stirred by her emotions.

It was over. The werren had decided. Tonot had fallen. And with him, everyone who had believed in him. Including herself.

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of what they had just lost.

She walked beside Tonot, step by step, in a silence that screamed louder than she ever could.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered.

“They will destroy him,” Seren said. Just as softly. Just as brokenly.

Ela knew she was referring to Tonot… but she could not help thinking of Reng. He was no longer safe either.

“Is there anything we can do?”

Tonot stopped and spoke a single name:

“Vin.”

Hope and desperation packed into the figure of the perpetually drunk but undeniably gifted technician.

“You need to speak with him. And convince him to pull all my data during tomorrow’s diagnostics and store it somewhere they will not find it.” Tonot’s voice was calm. And that was what frightened her the most. “When the right time comes someday… maybe it will be possible to start again.”

She stopped and went pale as she realized what Tonot had just said.

He knew this would be his end. And yet he cared about nothing but the survival of what he had built. She was fascinated by how he could remain so focused, as if the destruction of himself meant nothing compared to the mission he had taken on. Twenty years he had waited, hoping someone would follow Seren’s path. Without any certainty that anyone would come. And now, here he was. Without hope, yet still unbroken.

She felt a mixture of admiration, pity… and maybe something more for him. His determination was already closer to obsession, beyond human understanding. And perhaps even beyond werren understanding.

“After the diagnostics, nothing of me will remain,” he said calmly. “Everything will be destroyed. The new Tonot, if one is even created, will never again cross the boundaries the Beacon sets. He will be only a shadow of what I am today.”

Ela felt, through the meco, a faint tremor, a slight flicker of something that might have been fear.

“Can it be reversed?” she asked quietly, though she suspected there was no good answer to that.

“Yes.”

His answer surprised her.

“But not now. Not here. What Vin saves, you must take and carry somewhere the Beacon cannot reach.”

Ela stayed silent. Then she only whispered, “You want me to leave?”

“I am sorry. But it will no longer be safe here. We must protect that data, and Seren will help you with that. But the key is Reng.”

“Because of the Heart guarded by Nonon?” she understood quickly.

“Exactly. He is not ready yet. But I believe his time will come.”

Ela held her breath. “But they are going to send him south…”

“Then you must find him before he leaves. Tell him to run. He will listen to you.”

“If only that were true,” she sighed sadly.

She feared that their relationship had been badly damaged by the horrors he had endured in that dark cell. She was not sure she still had enough influence over him to make him obey.

Tonot gazed off into the distance, as if his thoughts were already elsewhere. Then he quietly added:

“Go. I do not have much time.”

Ela hesitated.

She wanted to say goodbye. But she did not know how. Tonot was a machine, a werren in a metal shell, just a mere imitation of a human with the soul of a true creature, sleeping its dreamless sleep somewhere in the rotting depths of the Beacon. But now… now she felt more for him than she ever expected.

They both hesitated for a moment.

Finally, Tonot raised his fist and thudded it against his chest. An old human gesture of respect.

Ela mirrored the gesture. They looked into each other’s eyes. And then both smiled. Quietly, sadly.

That was enough.

They parted and each went their own way.

Tonot headed toward the technical room, while Ela ran down the corridor toward Vin’s workshop.