The visions came again without warning.

  The metallic stench of blood and the sharp tang of gunpowder sucked away the winter's chill.

  I wasn't really there. I knew that. Still, it didn't make the experience any less vivid

  I stood on the deck of a gigantic warship, the planks slick with seawater and blood.

  The chaos was overwhelming. Screams echoed across the water as men fought, their cries lost amid the deafening symphony of violence.

  I stumbled backward, my boots sliding on the blood-slicked deck as the ship heaved and rocked from the onslaught.

  A sailor's dismembered body landed next to me, his arm missing, the stump spurting blood in an uneven, horrifying rhythm.

  Bile rose in my throat, but I couldn't look away.

  This wasn't my death. Not my war. But the fear felt real enough to leave me trembling.

  Focus. Breathe. This is not your death.

  Although the words weren't mine, they settled in my mind as if they had always been there. A weird calm broke through my panic. I felt serene, even as death surrounded me.

  The world was pure chaos. Some crew members were yelling in a language I didn't know, their words swallowed by the constant cannon fire. Others fought to stay on the ship. The deck looked like a graveyard, filled with broken bodies.

  The stench was unbearable

  Then-light split the sky.

  The air vibrated like a plucked bowstring.

  A powerful burst of white light with streaks of golden orange flashed across the battlefield. I barely saw the other ship explode before the deafening sound hit me.

  Everything fell silent for a heartbeat. My pulse, my breath—gone.

  The madness around me became a blur; flames moved without noise, and pieces of wreckage floated slowly.

  Then, just like that, reality crashed back in.

  Wood splintered, flames burst upward, and debris rained like meteors as the opposing ship broke apart.

  A chunk of burning timber landed where I'd stood moments before, my breath caught, and my body tensed on instinct. I barely had time to take it all in before my eyes were drawn to a man standing on the ship's railing.

  He wasn't triumphant. He didn't even look interested.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He stared at the carnage, indifferent.

  He walked across the ship's rail, bathed in the same white-gold light that had torn through the enemy vessel.

  His posture was rigid and commanding, his blond hair streaming in the wind. His hazel eyes swept the chaos with calm precision. They were familiar eyes—eyes I'd seen before.

  My eyes.

  My heart slammed against my ribs, cold sweat beading on my brow. The officer shouted out a command or so it appeared, his words cutting through the chaos. His sailors obeyed without hesitation, reloading cannons and readying weapons, sweat-stained and grimed with soot.

  And for a brief instant, our gazes met.

  A cannonball screamed toward us. He flicked his wrist, blasting it mid-air with another surge of that white-golden energy.

  Then—

  "009!" The voice cut through the chaos like a lifeline. My body jerked. My eyes snapped open. The morning sun blinding me

  The warship was gone. The blood. The fire. The vision.

  I was back on my cot in the orphanage, breath ragged, shirt soaked with cold sweat.

  That's the third vision this week. At least I didn't die in this one.

  I swallowed hard, trying to shake away the stubborn sensation.

  "009!" The voice called again.

  I spun around, my heart still racing. Matron Lin stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, a cigarette in her mouth. Smoke curled around her lined face as she narrowed her eyes at me.

  "You ready to be shipped to Asheng?" She said, grinning.

  I blinked at her, my brain still catching up to reality.

  Asheng.

  Of course, it was tomorrow.

  I swung my legs over the edge of the bunk and ran a hand through my hair. Damp.

  I probably look like a wet dog.

  "I'm coming," I muttered, rubbing the fatigue from my eyes.

  Matron Lin sighed, clearly unimpressed with my lack of urgency. She disappeared down the hallway, leaving a cloud of dissipating smoke behind.

  I dressed in silence, the others had already left. Most had been avoiding me anyway, like Harmonization might be contagious.

  I couldn't blame them, I was just as clueless as them about this... condition.

  I wasn't ready for Asheng. Or the Astra Sanctum. And whatever came after that.

  But ready or not, I was being sent there.

  Breakfast was a steamed bun and a glass of milk. Matron Lin didn't speak much—just stared at me between drags of her cigarette, eyes squinting through smoke.

  Finally, she exhaled. "The envoy'll be here tomorrow at dawn. You want to say goodbye to anyone, do it now."

  Goodbye?

  There wasn't anyone to say goodbye to. Not anymore.

  My one faithful companion in this place had long since left, following the same fate as me.

  I left my tray where it was, stood, and walked out into the courtyard without a word.

  It was a beautiful morning; the evening snow still dusted the cobblestone pavements of the temple.

  As I trekked up Red Mountain, trying to clear my thoughts, the wind bit a little less than usual.

  I sat on an old shrine overlooking the temple, the orphanage, and the quiet village of Asheng beyond them. Somewhere down there, my name was being recorded in some dusty Sanctum ledger. Another Harmonized to be catalogued, trained, and used.

  But I wasn't sure I wanted to go.

  That thought had been brewing in my head since I noticed signs of my harmonization. The idea that I didn't have to follow the path laid out for me. That maybe, just maybe, I could run.

  There was an old storage shed near the western wall of the temple. I knew when the monks patrolled that area.

  Would they even miss me?

  I suddenly felt a wave of guilt. Matron Lin would be questioned. The senior monks would be sent out to search for me. The government may even send soldiers.

  But the thought of entering the Astra Sanctum—being experimented on, used, controlled—filled me with a cold dread I couldn't ignore.

  I knew what awaited me in Asheng, and I didn't want any part of it.

  I wasn't ready to sell my soul to the government and become their weapon.

  I stood and dusted myself off. Tomorrow, they'd come looking.

  But they wouldn't find me.

  Not if I left before dawn.

  Not if I ran tonight.

  Even if I had no idea where I would go.