"...beyond...find me..."

  Nemo flinched mid-step. The whisper slid past his ear like a cold breath, gone before he could even turn to catch it.

  He looked around the hallway. Empty. Just the hum of the city systems and the faint slap of ocean waves against the floating understructure of Atlantis.

  He shook his head. Probably just in his mind. It had been a long night. He rubbed at his eyes and pushed open the door to his shared room.

  The others were still asleep. Fen’s bed was empty. Nemo moved quietly to the small desk tucked beneath the window and sat down. He stared through the reinforced glass at the endless sprawl of ocean under a deep violet dawn.

  From here, the world looked peaceful. But that peace was a lie. Everyone in Atlantis knew some part of it, of what those rooted sacrificed to keep their peace. Yet all of them were separated from the truth by a veil, a truth Nemo would now become a part of.

  Another whisper brushed the edge of his thoughts.

  "Not ready... not yet..."

  He blinked. What had that been? A thought? A memory? He tried to recall it, but the more he focused, the more it slipped through his grasp like water through fingers.

  He exhaled slowly, resting his forehead in his hands. Images began to flicker behind closed eyes—scenarios, dreams, and fears. None of them ended well. Most didn’t end at all.

  For a moment, he saw Fen—older, bloodied, teeth gritted in pain—falling to his knees on a shattered outpost platform. Screams echoed, and then—

  Nemo blinked, breath caught in his throat. What was that? He couldn't hold onto it, the memory already fading.

  Tales of the tainted were always the same. The moment you awakened, you were marked for a short life. Training. Tasks. Danger. Death. The small part of news that leaked from the other side to their mundane one was never too grim, but the death count was always a shock for the common folk.

  And Nemo had a dreadful feeling he would join the long list of those lost at sea. Between despair and fear, the first inklings of what had to be done made their way towards his consciousness. To survive, he had to wholly dedicate himself to his strength.

  "...weak peace... strong death..."

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Again, something seemed to have spoken right now, but the moment Nemo tried to think of it, he had already forgotten that he had heard it. He shook his head, his resolve from earlier already wavering under the dark thoughts.

  The door creaked open.

  Fen stepped inside, running a towel through his hair. “Hey, Nemo. Not going back to bed?”

  Nemo looked up at his friend. Then a vision invaded his field of view. For a moment, he saw Fen—older, bloodied, teeth gritted in pain—falling to his knees on a shattered outpost platform. Screams echoed, and then—

  Nemo blinked, breath caught in his throat. What was that? He couldn't hold onto it, the memory already fading.

  “No.” Nemo turned toward him. “I had a dream and wanted to ask you something.

  Fen paused, then shrugged and climbed up to his bunk. “Shoot.”

  Nemo hesitated. The question sat like a weight on his chest.

  “Can you remember... when your sister became tainted?”

  The silence came fast and heavy.

  Fen didn’t answer right away. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I dreamed I got tainted. It scared me.”

  A lie, but one close enough to the truth that it felt safe.

  Fen let out a breath. “You already know the story. Everyone does. They take you. Train you. And eventually, you get sent out. Then you die or something worse happens. That’s the pattern.”

  Nemo looked up at him. “But not everyone dies.”

  Fen’s head tilted, eyes narrowing. “Really? Are you that naive? We may not get the most information on our side, but everyone knows that the situation isn't really looking too good for us.”

  Nemo said nothing.

  “The ones who make it are stuck out there, guarding the fringes. Fighting beasts no one has names for. Do you think they’re happy out there?”

  Fen sat up slightly, eyes dark. “My sister didn’t die to some beast. She died because they sent her out. The system used her. Trained her to die. The moment she awakened, she was gone. I hate them all for it—the Tainted, the ones who train them, and the ones who pretend they’re doing something good. They’re all the same. They take and take and leave nothing behind.”

  His voice rose with each word. A low murmur came from a nearby bed. For a second Nemo thought of the whispers. What whispers?

  “What are you guys yelling about?”

  “Don’t butt in,” came another groggy voice. “Nemo asked Fen about his sister.”

  “Is he an idiot? That’s off-limits.”

  “No, he’s just tactless. Can’t even let Fen sleep in peace.”

  Heat flushed Nemo’s cheeks. He hadn’t meant to wake anyone.

  The earlier tension dissolved, replaced by groggy irritation and grumbled complaints.

  “What’s the point of talking about this stuff anyway?” someone muttered. “We’ve got nets to mend tomorrow. Mr. Clyde’s won’t fix themselves.” Mathis announced himself from the covers, his head peering out of the covers.

  Nemo turned, but as he wanted to respond, another vision flashed across his eyes. Mathis, in silver and turquoise armor, standing in front of an army, holding a beast by its throat, his eyes radiating intense madness, staring straight at him.

  But just as his body was starting to process the signals he had received, the flash was gone, and all that remained was the lingering feeling of an unpleasant memory.

  “That’s real,” another said.

  Nemo looked around at them—all half-asleep, all annoyed—and felt a knot tighten in his chest.

  He liked these people. He knew them. They were blunt, coarse, and often annoying—but they were his. He would have liked a quiet life among them.

  But the world had other plans.

  “…soon… the weight will shift…”

  Nemo blinked. The voice was there again. But what voice?