The Extraction Mesa

The peak of the Extraction Mesa was bathed in brilliant, golden sunlight. The acid clouds had broken, revealing a stunning, violet sky.

Orion reached the center of the plateau and pressed the activation switch on the beacon. A massive pillar of blue light shot into the sky.

Within minutes, the roar of engines filled the air. A massive Aegis medical cruiser descended, its thrusters kicking up clouds of sparkling ash.

As the ship touched down and the boarding ramp lowered, Orion felt his strength give out. He allowed the shift to recede. The scales melted, the bones shrank, and he was a fifteen-year-old boy again. He collapsed onto the rock beside Jax, exhausted but completely at peace.

Medics swarmed the ramp, loading Jax onto an anti-grav stretcher. A squad of armed instructors secured the perimeter.

The Compound Commander, a stern woman with a scarred face, walked down the ramp. She looked at the telemetry data on her datapad, then looked at the crushed metal rifles scattered miles below on the tundra, recorded by the ship’s sensors. Finally, she looked at Orion.

“The telemetry recorded massive biological fluctuations,” the Commander said, her voice devoid of its usual cruelty, replaced by awe. “You survived a cave-in, crossed twenty miles in under an hour, and neutralized four hostiles without lethal force.”

She didn't look at him like a freak. She looked at him like a weapon. Like a survivor.

“He’s a Morph-Gen,” the Commander said to her lieutenant. “Classification upgrade to Alpha-Tier. Give him his own quarters. And court-martial Cadet Vance for attempted murder.”

Three days later, aboard the Aegis cruiser in orbit.

Orion walked into the pristine medical bay. He wasn't hunched over anymore. He stood tall, wearing a clean, perfectly fitted cadet uniform. The phantom itching beneath his skin was gone. He had accepted his blood, and in doing so, he had mastered it.

Jax was sitting up in the med-bed, his leg heavily bandaged but healing. He looked up from a datapad as Orion walked in.

Jax’s stern face broke into a rare, genuine smile. “Look at you. Walking around like you own the place.”

“Alpha-Tier,” Orion said, a small, proud smile touching his lips. He sat in the chair beside the bed. “They’re reassigning me to the advanced tracking unit.”

“Good,” Jax said, leaning back against the pillows. “Just don't forget who taught you how to light a fire.”

Orion looked out the massive viewport, watching the stars drift by. He wasn't sad. He wasn't a victim. He was a survivor, a shapeshifter, and for the first time in his life, he had a brother.

“I won't,” Orion said softly, looking back at Jax. “I promise.”