The Five Evolution

『"Your move."』

The Five burst through the doorway the moment the loop room released them, the alarms were still blaring.

Security protocols be damned. Something had breached the Convergence’s innermost sanctum, and every instinct they’d honed told them they needed to go check it out.

Ethan took point immediately. "War room’s this way."

No one questioned how he knew, they simply ran. Amara was beside him while the rest followed behind.

"Isn’t this place meant to be some impenetrable fortress of solitude?" Hiro asked.

"Well it’s looking pretty penetrable to me," Raj said as they turned a corner and kept running. "Unless..." his eyes went up. "This is another sick test meant to evaluate us."

After what happened with Hiro, Amara had some idea about how far these people were willing to go to evaluate them.

She pondered the possibility as they ran, then noticed that Sophia had gone unusually quiet. Amara glanced toward her and realized that Sophia’s expression had gone distant.

Just when she was about to call out to her, Sophia stumbled.

Ethan stopped and caught her before she hit the floor. "Sophia?" He kept his hands on her shoulders.

She gasped as her gaze returned to focus. She tried to stand upright and nearly collapsed again.

Amara grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. "What did you see?" she asked.

Sophia’s face had gone pale. "Dead," she whispered. Her eyes darted between them. "So many bodies.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I don’t think this is some test."

Hiro exhaled loudly. "Goddamn it."

No one else needed to say anything else. They all resumed their sprint to the War room.

Angel’s Bane materialized in Amara’s hand as they rounded one final corner and skidded to a halt.

The War Room doors stood open, and in their sights were four figures in white cloaks, standing casually around the Council table like they’d been invited.

Twelve Directors, along with their guards surrounded them. But what Amara found odd was the fact that nobody was moving or fighting. They were simply just... talking.

"What the fuck," Sophia exhaled.

The Collector noticed them first, and his smile widened with pleasure. "Ah! Perfect timing. You made it just in time."

Amara’s grip on Angel’s Bane tightened. The Collector was right there. And beside him—

Michael Trevor turned his head slowly, until his eyes found Ethan.

For a moment, Ethan seemed to forget about the alarms or the fact that four Apostles had somehow breached the Convergence. Amara could tell by the way he went still.

"Ethan?" Her brows furrowed with concern. "Are you good?"

Ethan glanced at her and smiled. "I’m good." He looked at Michael one more time before turning his attention back to Amara and the Directors. "We may share a mother, but that doesn’t make us brothers."

"Fair enough," Michael said as his attention shifted back to the Directors, dismissing Ethan’s words. "We should continue."

The tall man, who Amara remembered from the image shown to them during briefing, placed a thin black folder on the Council table in an unhurried movement.

"Your intelligence is impressive," he said. "Recent missions, power rankings, psychological profiling, behavioral patterns, last known locations of every Anchor in your network."

He tapped the folder. "I must say, it was very detailed." The folder bore a simple designation printed on its cover: R-42. "You’ve done our work for us. Thank you."

Every Director in the room went rigid.

"That’s—" Director Hale started.

"It is," he confirmed.

Director Mikhail was the first to make a move. He stretched out both hands that began to crackle, and a two-handed battle-axe was summoned into his grip.

Around the table, others had similar reactions as abilities activated.

Hardened scales wrapped around Yuri’s body and claws grew out of her hands.

"Insolent fools," she growled in a deeper tone as her guards flanked her on both sides. The one who wore bandages proceeded to unwrap, revealing black miasma around his skin.

Director Okoye’s spear materialized in her grasp, its dark tip dripping corrosive energy that hissed where it struck the floor. Beside her, her guard folded his arms and awaited orders.

"You’re either mad or suicidal, walking in here," Director Mikhail said with fury.

Babydoll grinned as she held up three small dolls, each one wore miniature clothing that looked disturbingly similar to Institute uniforms. "Suicidal? Not yet."

Director Arthur Blue looked around the room, everyone had taken their stance, prepared to fight, except him.

Then his attention shifted to Babydoll. "Uhmm... not to judge, but it’s looking pretty suicidal from where I’m sitting." He sighed. "Can we just talk? Because I’d rather not fight."

Her smile became gloomy and her expression went blank. "Even if we were, we’d take a few of you with us for the ride." She squeezed one doll’s arm gently.

Somewhere in the facility, someone screamed. "Sebastian, I’m getting bored," she said to the tall, large man who held the folder, then squeezed again and the screaming grew louder.

"Babydoll." Sebastian turned to her, his voice was even deeper when he called her name. "Exercise some restraint."

The Collector’s gaze shifted to Arthur. "Arthur Blue, Director of the Levi branch... Anchor for the Current." He brought down his hood. "You’re right, we just came to talk."

Amara’s eyes moved to Arthur and her shoulders tensed. What did this mean? Were they here for him?

Her gaze was then pulled to Yuri who sprouted a spiked tail behind her that slammed into the ground, cratering it. She clearly wasn’t interested in talking.

"Stand down," Director Hale commanded. "Everyone. Now."

Yelena whose blades were already summoned hesitated but obeyed. Across the room, weapons remained manifested but the tension reduced just by a bit.

The other Directors followed suit with obvious reluctance, understanding what Hale had immediately grasped: Babydoll’s sympathetic doll made this a hostage situation.

Sebastian nodded approvingly, then slid the R-42 folder across the table toward the Directors.

"Keep it," he said. "We already memorized its contents." He paused, letting that sink in. "We came to return it. Consider this a courtesy."

"Courtesy?" Director Hale asked.

"A demonstration," the Collector replied, circling the table. A familiar compact dagger manifested in his grip. "You’re sitting here debating."

He stopped beside the folder, tapping it with the dagger. "But you can’t protect what we can already reach."

Sebastian pulled out a series of photographs from inside his cloak and spread them across the table like playing cards.

"Jerry Lowenthal. Garfield Antoine. Cassie and Matthew Cage. James Rodriguez. Ingrid Sander. Samson Bacon. And Meredith Zawadi."

Amara’s eyes immediately widened the moment she heard the last name.

"You’ve made a point with the names," Director Okoye said, lowering her spear. "What exactly do you want?"

"Now, now." The Collector smiled beneath his hood and tapped two fingers against the floating table. The sound carried through the tense silence of the War Room.

"What we want is simple." His gaze moved from Director to Director. "All we want is for the Institute to stop interfering."

Director Hale’s grip on his cane tightened. "If you believe we’ll stand aside and allow you to continue, then you’ve misunderstood who we are."

The Collector inclined his head. "Understood." He gestured toward the tall, masked Apostle beside him, and Sebastian stepped forward.

"We require eight more specific Anchors." His voice sounded emotionless. "You currently have sixty-three registered with the Institute according to the file."

Amara didn’t like where they were going with this. If their intention was for them to turn a blind eye while they hunted down her friend and mentor figure, then they had another thing coming.

"We are asking, politely, that you surrender to us what we need," Sebastian finished, and several Directors exchanged dark looks.

Hale’s eyes narrowed. "In exchange for what?"

Sebastian didn’t hesitate. "In exchange, you get to save the lives of fifty-five others, including your Director over there..." He folded his arms. "We only require eight specific individuals."

Arthur, who looked like he wasn’t paying attention finally looked up. "Oh?"

Sebastian ignored him. "The eight names I mentioned earlier possess connections to particular fundamental forces. Everyone else, we leave alone." His eyes narrowed. "Everyone wins."

"Except the eight you’re abducting," Yuri said coldly.

Babydoll’s unsettling smile returned. "They’ll be serving a greater purpose. A purpose you can’t possibly comprehend." She spread her hands innocently. "We’re not monsters."

Director Mikhail let out a humorless laugh. "And what if we refuse?"

The Collector rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We can always go after all sixty-three. And we do it messily. In ways that make the Institute look incompetent. Unable to protect its own assets."

"Your credibility is already strained. How many more disasters can you survive before nations start withdrawing support? Before independent Awakeners begin questioning you?"

The true nature of the threat settled over the room.

This wasn’t just about acquiring Anchors. It was about destroying the Institute’s legitimacy.

"You’re terrorists," Mikhail said flatly. "And we do not negotiate with terrorists."

Sebastian’s gaze shifted toward him.

"No."

He let his arms drop. "Terrorism implies irrational violence. We’re being perfectly rational." He folded the folder shut. "You can negotiate peacefully and surrender the eight Anchors."

He looked around the table. "Or you can resist and lose everything." His eyes settled on Hale. "Choose wisely."

Silence followed.

Then Michael’s hand drifted toward the hilt of his greatsword in a small casual motion. Yet, every Awakener in the room tensed anyway.

Weapons tightened in their owners’ grips. Guards shifted their footing. Power gathered just beneath the surface.

Michael never drew the blade. This was simply a gesture, showing a glimpse of what would happen if the conversation ended and the fighting began.

"One month," the Collector said, already backing toward where the spatial tear had been. "That’s how long you have to decide." He then glanced at the Five. "Always a pleasure."

Amara’s grip on her blade grew stronger, barely holding back her anger.

Babydoll noticed and squeezed another doll. Somewhere in the facility, a second scream echoed. "That’s two," she said flatly. "I’ve got eleven more. Want to see if I’m bluffing?"

Amara’s heart sank as soon as she heard the scream. Beside her, Sophia had gone pale.

"I think I’m gonna be sick," Hiro said.

Raj’s fingers curled into a fist. "I can’t believe I thought she was cute."

Ethan’s attention, however, was still fixed on Michael from the moment he reached for the hilt of his blade.

"Stand down," Hale commanded again, this time directed at the Five. Amara read it in his expression— they couldn’t win this.

Then a voice came from the corner.

"The Five have the right idea. Guards!" Director Mikhail yelled.

"We do?" Hiro looked perplexed.

The Collector smiled. "Now that’s a terrible move, Director."

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