Morning light filtered through the canopy in long, pale shafts, cutting across the forest floor in stripes of gold and shadow. Dew clung heavily to the leaves and grass, the air cool and damp with that quiet stillness that only existed just after sunrise.
Birds had only just begun their morning calls, tentative chirps and trills echoing faintly through the woods. Somewhere nearby, water rippled over stone in a narrow stream, its steady murmur blending with the soft rustling of branches shifting in the breeze.
The forest smelled of damp earth and pine.
The Operator sat comfortably on his brand-new human chair.
Below him, Taylor Hebert strained through another push-up.
Her arms trembled as she pushed herself up from the ground again, muscles quivering violently from exhaustion. Dirt clung to the sweat gathering along her foreheads and gloves, and her breathing had long since shifted from controlled to ragged. Each inhale came sharp and fast through clenched teeth, each exhale a shaky release of effort.
"Ten," Ordis announced pleasantly from somewhere above them.
The Cephalon's voice came from a small drone hovering lazily in the air nearby. It bobbed gently, as if enjoying the peaceful morning scenery while simultaneously overseeing the exercise.
"Ten push-ups completed," Ordis continued. "Only forty more to reach the current objective. Ordis believes Miss Hebert is performing admirably given her… biological limitations."
The Operator rested his chin in one hand, leaning forward slightly to watch her form.
Two days.
It had only been two days since Taylor had joined Ten-Zero, and he had not been taking it easy on her. He had warned her the training would be harsh. She had said she was ready, and he had taken that statement very seriously.
Early mornings. Late nights. Hours at a time. Running, climbing, drills, combat practice, endurance training, swarm control exercises. Every day had been packed.
And she had shown up for every single one of them.
No excuses, and no complaints that lasted longer than a few seconds.
He had to give her credit for that.
And a nice cash bonus by the end of the week.
Right now, she was shaking beneath him, sweat dripping from her forehead to the dirt below. The Operator could feel the tremors in her muscles through his legs as she forced herself upward again.
Quietly, he channeled the Vazarin Way.
Warm, restorative Void energy flowed from him into her body, threading through strained muscle fibers and soothing the worst of the fatigue. It didn't erase the strain of effort—she still had to do the work—but it kept her from tearing something important while pushing beyond what her body was used to.
Aside from bio-sculpting or cybernetic augmentation—technology he wasn't willing to expose her to yet—this was the most efficient way to build her body up as quickly as possible.
He leaned back slightly, letting his gaze drift across the forest while she continued the exercise.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Umbra.
The former Dax sat on a nearby boulder, perfectly still. His legs were crossed in meditation, his hands resting loosely on his knees. The Warframe looked like a statue, unmoving as he waited patiently for the warm-up to finish.
Normally, the Operator wouldn't be pushing a recruit this hard this early. Training like this would usually come after a solid foundation of physical conditioning had been built—a gradual process. But Brockton Bay was not a permanent stop for him. This stay was temporary.
A vacation of sorts from the much larger objectives waiting for him elsewhere.
And vacations didn't last forever.
He was here for a few months at best. Just enough time to say he made good on his promise to the Drifter. After that, he would move on. Other cities. Other potential recruits. Other problems that required his attention.
And Taylor would remain here, taking on relatively low-risk assignments until she was ready for missions beyond what Brockton Bay could offer.
His gaze drifted toward Ordis' hovering Sentinel body.
Or at least, that was the plan.
His Cephalon had reported unusual movement from the ABB yesterday. They were buying weapons. Recruiting new members. Stockpiling equipment.
Most likely, they intended to break Lung out of holding.
With Lung gone, the remaining leadership of the ABB consisted primarily of a serial suicide-bombing psychopath and a domestic terrorist armed with tinkertech explosives. That combination alone was reason enough to stop whatever they were planning before it began.
Which was why Ordis had already passed the information to the PRT.
It didn't sit entirely right with the Operator to leave things to someone else. But there was no need to step on the Protectorate's toes unnecessarily. Based on the experience and skill sets of the local heroes, the weakened ABB would be much easier for them to handle now that Lung was no longer in the picture.
Still, the information meant something else.
Things in Brockton Bay were shifting.
The Empire and Coil would not sit idly by while the ABB weakened. A power vacuum like that invited expansion. If those factions began pushing into each other's territory, the PRT would inevitably step in.
And if the PRT stepped in…
A four-way conflict could erupt across the city.
Which meant Taylor might end up learning in the field whether she was ready or not.
Below him, her push-ups slowed.
"Speed it up," the Tenno ordered lazily.
Taylor grunted under his weight. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one doing push-ups with a person sitting on your back."
"The tiredness is all in your head," he replied calmly.
And it was mostly true. The fatigue she felt was largely a combination of heat, soreness, phantom pain, and the brain's natural assumption that the body should be exhausted by now.
"The tiredness might be in my head," she panted between breaths, "but your weight isn't."
The Tenno laughed, and when he spoke next, there was a mischievous smile on his face.
"Well, if you've got enough energy to give your boss lip, then I assume you'll be perfectly fine with some full-contact sparring afterward."
That got her moving again immediately.
"Thirty-eight!" Ordis declared brightly. "Thirty-nine! Forty!"
Sheesh.
He had broken her nose one time during sparring. An accident. Mostly. And he had healed it immediately afterward too. But ever since then, she had shown a strong preference for sparring with Umbra instead.
Which the Operator found endlessly amusing.
Because Umbra was a Warframe.
The Operator's casual punch might break her nose, but Umbra's could remove her head.
"Forty-eight," Ordis said.
Taylor's arms trembled violently as she pushed herself upward again
"Forty-nine."
She collapsed halfway down.
Then forced herself back up through pure stubbornness.
"Fifty!"
The Operator hopped lightly off her back.
"That'll do," he said.
Taylor nearly attempted another push-up before gravity won. She collapsed face-first into the dirt with a heavy thud.
For several seconds, she simply lay there, breathing hard. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as sweat soaked into the ground beneath her.
"Take five," the Operator said.
She rolled onto her back and stared up through the trees at the pale morning sky, breathing like she had just finished running a marathon.
Which she had.
But that was before the push-ups, so completely unrelated.
"Twenty," she begged weakly.
"No," he immediately responded.
"Ten," she fished.
"No," he repeated with an amused smirk.
"Five minutes feels short when you're dying."
"You wouldn't feel that bad if you ditched the baggy sweats," the Operator commented mildly.
Like always, she had no response to that. So like always, he let it go. It wasn't like he was enforcing a dress code during training. As long as her clothing didn't interfere with movement, she could wear whatever she wanted. Her desire to be hyper-modest was not his concern.
"But you're rapidly improving," he added after a moment. "So good work."
Above them, Ordis' drone drifted slightly closer.
"The Operator speaks the truth, Miss Hebert," he began, projecting a hologram of her biological data for them to see. "You demonstrated a remarkable eight percent physical increase across all monitored categories. Your dramatic exaggerations regarding death and dying are statistically inaccurate."
Taylor sighed tiredly.
"Thanks, guys," she mumbled.
The Operator chuckled but remained silent after that, giving her the remainder of her break uninterrupted.
Five minutes later, he clapped his hands once.
"Alright, break's over," he declared.
Taylor groaned but rolled to her feet anyway. Umbra rose from the boulder at the same time. The Warframe stepped down from the rock with quiet, fluid motion, landing silently on the forest floor.
"Ordis," the Operator said. "Mind doing the honors?"
Ordis bobbed happily.
A holographic map flickered to life in the air between them. A three-dimensional projection of the surrounding forest appeared. Terrain lines, tree clusters, elevation markers, and water features all rendered in glowing blue detail.
Taylor leaned forward slightly, focusing.
"This, Taylor, will be your training exercise today," the Operator said. "Please try to remember the map. You'll need it."
She nodded, squinting slightly as she studied the projection.
The Tenno pointed to a small glowing point.
"We are here." A second point lit up several miles north. "There's a lake in this forest a couple of miles away." The point pulsed softly in the hologram. "That's your destination."
Taylor squinted at the projection, her expression intense. She wasn't having trouble seeing it—he had fixed her eyesight during the medical exam—but she was trying to commit the terrain to memory.
"And is there any objective I need to complete on the way there?" she questioned.
"No." He shook his head. "Your only objective is to reach it."
Taylor glanced between him, Umbra, and the hovering sentinel, suspicion plain on her face.
"There's a catch," she stated.
The Tenno's smirk widened, becoming more mischievous.
"Of course. You'll have to complete the objective without being captured or disabled by me… Umbra… Ordis…" He paused slightly, letting the moment stretch to instill unease. "…or Venari."
Taylor blinked at the unfamiliar name.
"Who's Venari?"
The Operator waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't worry about it."
His smirk made it very clear she should, in fact, be very worried.
"Can I get a h—"
"Make it to the lake by any means necessary," he interrupted. "If you encounter anything that threatens that objective, fight it like your life depends on it."
Taylor's gaze suddenly flicked toward the trees in that now familiar, unnatural way that said she sensed something through her bugs.
Right then, as if knowing the jig was up, something moved through the fresh autumn undergrowth. Audible, but unseen. Branches rustled. Twigs snapped. Taylor's posture stiffened.
The Operator watched the anxiety build on her face before the subtle signs of panic shifted into focus. Her breathing sharpened. Her shoulders squared as she stood her ground.
"To make it fair," he continued, "you have a six-minute head start. Oh, and your test begins now."
For half a second, nothing happened. Taylor just stared at him.
Then, the air around them exploded into motion.
A black cloud erupted outward from the surrounding trees as Taylor's swarm surged in from every direction. Beetles, flies, moths, ants, gnats—thousands upon thousands of insects flooded the clearing in a dense, living storm.
Within seconds, the swarm thickened until it became a churning wall of wings and bodies.
Vision dropped to almost nothing. The drone lights blurred. The holographic map vanished. Even Umbra's silhouette became difficult to make out.
Taylor didn't run.
Instead, she backed away slowly while facing them, her movements hidden within the swirling insects. Her shape dissolved into the moving cloud as the swarm blanketed the entire area.
The Operator's grin slowly widened.
Smart girl.
She wasn't giving away her direction of choice by sprinting blindly. She was breaking line-of-sight first.
The insects swirled thicker, forming a near-solid curtain between them.
Then, just as suddenly as it had formed, the swarm dispersed.
The insects scattered outward into the forest.
The clearing returned to quiet.
Taylor was gone.
The Operator's grin stretched wider.
"Oh," he said excitedly. "That's a good start."
---------------------------------------
Taylor dashed through the forest, her boots pounding against the soft earth in a steady, rhythmic thud. Goosebumps prickled along her arms—not from the cold, but from the lingering memory of those glowing eyes piercing through the cloud of insects she had left behind.
She checked her internal clock as she gathered the swarm. Spiders, beetles, flies, ants, mosquitoes, bees—they all crawled along the earth or through the canopy. She knew concentrating them would give away her position if her pursuers got close, but spreading them too thin would leave her vulnerable if a confrontation broke out suddenly. It was a balancing act she was still learning to master.
She was especially wary of the thing she had barely sensed in the underbrush.
Three minutes after what she suspected was the end of her grace period, a blip appeared on the edge of her range.
It was moving fast. Incredibly fast.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Umbra, she thought immediately. It had to be.
She tried to triangulate the trajectory, pulling bugs toward the approaching signature to slow it down, but the distance closed in the span of a heartbeat.
One second, it was at the edge of her range. The next, it was a blur of motion in the trees to her left.
Taylor didn't even have time to turn her head.
Something massive, metal, and feline slammed into her side.
The impact knocked the air clean out of her lungs. She hit the ground hard, rolling across the forest floor, leaves and twigs tearing at her clothes. She cried out as she tumbled, her vision spinning. She scrambled to get her feet under her, but a heavy weight pinned her down. Claws—or what felt like claws—scraped against her sweatshirt, tearing the fabric.
Panic surged. She lashed out with her power, directing every insect in a fifty-foot radius to swarm the attacker. Bees, beetles, wasps—they descended in a screaming cloud, biting and stinging.
But the creature beneath the swarm didn't flinch. She felt the insects' mandibles scraping against something impossibly hard. Stingers bent or bounced off harmlessly.
She redirected the swarm to the head. I gotta look for the eyes. That's always a weak point.
The insects crawled over the face, searching for soft tissue, but found only the same unyielding surface. It was like trying to bite a tank.
Does it have no eyes? What the hell is this thing?
The creature clamped its jaws around her shoulder and growled as it swung her around. It tossed her with a flick of its neck. She flew back, slamming into the trunk of a pine tree with a sickening thud. The breath left her again, and she slid down to the roots, gasping.
Through the haze of pain and the swirling cloud of her own swarm, she finally got a look at her attacker.
It stood on four legs, sleek and predatory. It looked like a great cat, but was covered in gold and black armor, plating shifting smoothly over rippling muscle. The beast lowered its head, letting out a low, vibrating growl that she felt in her chest more than heard.
Taylor didn't wait for it to move.
She screamed, pouring every ounce of her will into a concentrated flood of insects. Not to hurt it—she knew that was useless now—but to blind it. A solid wall of bodies slammed into Venari, choking the air, clogging every joint and seam in its armor.
The beast thrashed, shaking the insects off with casual, terrifying strength, but it bought her precious seconds.
Taylor scrambled to her feet and ran.
She didn't look back. She sprinted, her lungs burning, her sides aching where the creature had pinned her. She could feel Venari thrashing in her range, breaking free of the insect mass, and then—
It was gone. A blur of motion dashing out of her range, leaving her alone in the forest.
She kept running for another full minute before the adrenaline began to ebb. Her steps faltered. She slowed, leaning against a tree, her chest heaving.
She knew she should probably keep running, but she was gassed and needed to check how badly she was hurt. She patted herself down frantically. Her sweatshirt was shredded, hanging off her shoulders in tatters. Her undershirt was still intact, though, and so was her bra—small mercies—but her sweatpants were torn at the knee.
She could feel bruises blooming on her ribs, shoulders, and back, but she wasn't bleeding. No deep gashes or puncture wounds either. The claws had torn her clothes, but barely scratched the skin.
How is that…
A low, mechanical whir broke the silence.
Taylor stiffened, spinning around.
Ordis' drone hovered innocently between the trees, its single red eye glowing softly.
"Target acquired!" Ordis chirped happily, his voice echoing through the forest. "Operator! Umbra! I have found Ms. Hebert!"
Taylor stared at the drone, her mouth dry but her body sagging in relief at the familiar voice. "Ordis! You—did you see that thing? Some cat thing nearly killed me!"
Ordis tilted in the air, the gesture almost childishly dismissive. "Venari is a good kitty. She was only playing. Playing rough, perhaps, but playing nonetheless! She would never maim a friend of the Operator."
"That wasn't playing!" Taylor snapped, frustration warring with exhaustion. "I got chewed up and—"
She didn't get to finish.
The drone shot forward, slamming into her shoulder with a solid thunk.
"Tag!" Ordis declared. "You are it! Ordis is the best hunter!"
Taylor stumbled back, clutching her shoulder. "You—"
She bit down on her anger.
Right, this is a test. She shouldn't be arguing with a hunter. The fact that she had escaped the beast with only superficial wounds should have been proof enough that Venari was holding back.
Without waiting for another warning, she turned and started running again, her pace slower now, her body protesting every step.
Ordis followed.
He didn't attack constantly. He hovered just behind her, occasionally darting forward to bash into her back or side, each time announcing his presence cheerfully and loudly. She was surprised that Tenno and Umbra hadn't appeared yet. Maybe Venari and Ordis were the only ones allowed to play.
"Please stop running so Ordis can secure the capture!"
Taylor ground her teeth. She couldn't outrun a drone. And she couldn't fight a drone made of advanced technology with bugs.
But she could trap it.
She veered toward the river.
Taylor hadn't been running blindly; this entire time she had been setting up a trap—a simple one. She had directed spiders to spin thick bands of silk between the trees near the water where the ground was soft, layering the strands until they were almost invisible but incredibly strong.
Once she heard Ordis revving behind her, preparing for another charge, she dropped low, throwing herself to the side.
The drone shot forward, expecting to hit her back—
—and flew straight into the thick, sticky web of spider silk she had woven between two trunks.
The web wasn't enough to hold Tenno, who could teleport, or Umbra, who was wearing a Warframe, but Ordis wasn't either of them. He thrashed, spinning in the air, but the more he moved, the deeper the silk tangled into his chassis.
"Ordis is... stuck!" the Cephalon announced, sounding genuinely surprised. "This material is remarkably durable! Well played, Miss Hebert! Well played!"
Taylor didn't even allow herself a small, tired smile.
She didn't stop. She turned and kept running, following the riverbank. She had ants constantly recreating the map and her approximate points on it, so she knew this should lead to the lake.
But before she could take more than a dozen steps, she felt it again.
That blip on the edge of her range. Something fast and low to the ground.
Venari. The beast was back. Had Ordis's shouting attracted it?
It didn't matter.
Taylor blanketed the air with bugs, spreading them out in a wide net, trying to track the creature's movements and cover it in insects.
The initial lunge came from above.
She threw herself to the ground. A dark shape sailed over her head, landing silently on the riverbank.
Taylor scrambled up, backing away as she tried to collapse her swarm on top of it like last time.
Venari didn't stay still.
The beast moved like lightning, bouncing from the riverbank to tree to tree, and even into the air, circling her. Taylor spun, trying to keep track, but it was impossible. The creature was a blur of motion, appearing in one spot, then another, then another, never staying long enough for her to pin down.
Her swarm buzzed in agitation, mirroring her own panic.
She tried to predict the attack. She watched the trees, listened for the snap of branches—
A blur from the left.
She turned, but too late.
Venari hit her like a freight train.
The tackle sent her flying. She hit the water with a deafening splash, the cold shocking her system.
The current caught her immediately, pulling her downstream. She thrashed, gasping, trying to find her footing, but the river was deeper than she expected.
Through the churning water, she saw Venari standing on the bank. The beast watched her as its tail flicked lazily. It made no move to chase. It simply observed, calm and unconcerned, as the river carried her away.
Taylor coughed, swallowing water, flailing against the current.
The world spun—cold, wet, and helpless for minutes until finally, she managed to grab a root jutting from the bank. She hauled herself up, crawling onto the muddy shore, hacking up water.
She lay there for a long moment, shivering. Her clothes were soaked, clinging to her skin.
Her body ached but she pushed herself up onto her knees, mud smearing her face.
I hate this, she thought bitterly. I hate this so much.
This chase hadn't even been fifteen minutes and she was already mauled, bashed, and nearly drowned. Taylor was genuinely beginning to believe that Tenno breaking her nose was his attempt at being nice.
Because right now, she wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to quit.
But she didn't. She had asked for this.
And If this were real and it was the Empire chasing her, would she give up?
No. Giving up meant death.
So as she knelt in the mud, the river water dripping from her hair, and she closed her eyes and breathed.
The Tenno had taught her this. He called it post-excersize de-stressing, a technique to manage the mental strain of combat. Something he only decided to teach her after she freaked out at her broken nose.
Find the emotion. Acknowledge it. Push it outward.
She felt the fear. The anger. The frustration. The bone-deep exhaustion.
She didn't fight them. She let them rise, acknowledged them, and then she imagined pushing them out. Around her, the insects buzzed louder, agitated.
But inside?
Inside, she felt calm settle over her in a way she hardly ever knew before learning this technique.
Her heart rate slowed. Her breathing steadied.
Taylor Hebert opened her eyes. She stood up, water squelching in her shoes, and started walking toward the lake.
She was a hero, after all. This much shouldn't take her down.