Glass and broken concrete crunch under my combat boots, making it almost impossible to be silent. On any other mission, I would make it my top priority to be as quiet as possible. Stealth equals health, my bald-headed instructor would say. As much as I hated his course, I have to admit a lot of it has stuck with me through missions. Even now, I use his classic "head on a swivel" idiom to remind myself to check my surroundings every few seconds. I used to think that his class would never amount to anything. Now, I would give anything to be back in his classroom that always seemed to wreak of blood, sweat, and tears. Instructor Mavis used to make us disassemble and reassemble almost every type of gun on a loop. The procedure got so familiar I would find myself drifting off into my own little world, where I would fantasize about real missions. The cacophony of battle, the bullets singing through the air. I would imagine myself charging into the fight, braids flying and my dark skin plastered with sweat, surrounded by my fellow agents. All of us fighting, working together for a united cause. Now that I look back on it, I can see that I was truly idiotic. Missions are nothing like what I thought they were. In reality, I'm stumbling around a dusty hallway filled with the rubble of a bombing. On a recovery mission. How exciting.

I guess I'm making it out to be worse than it actually is. There are some interesting details about this assignment. Mainly the part about the rebels. HQ got an SOS from this base about 24 hours ago, but by the time the reinforcements got here, it was already too late. The land above the underground base was packed full of craters created by bombs, and the base itself was already half destroyed. The agency would have sent in people to do the recovery mission that very night, but they refrained due to the structure's stability. The agency decided that it would be better to wait until today to send in a smaller group rather than send a whole army charging into a death trap of crumbling metal and concrete. So, I get the boring job of clean up duty. They send us in to sweep the place, find any half decent resources to pull out and make sure that no one got left behind. Not that there would be anyone left behind.

A loud crunch and the tumble of rubble sounds behind me, and I react quickly. My body drops to a crouch and I pull my weapon out of its holster and click the safety off as I swivel around, aiming the barrel right between the eyes of the string bean of a man behind me.

"Don't shoot!" The man puts his hands up behind his head, his whole body cringing at the sight of my gun's barrel aimed right at his face.

"For God's sake, Liam." I roll my eyes and holster my weapon, clicking the safety back on to keep from shooting myself in the thigh. "You should know better than to sneak up on an agent in the field like that. I thought we split up?"

"We-" Liam is cut off by a gruff voice behind him.

"And you really shouldn't sneak up on someone who is known for shooting first and asking questions later. " A tall figure steps out from behind Liam, letting the flashlight strapped to my forehead illuminate his features. The pale lighting causes his already chiseled face to appear deeper set, the hollows of his cheeks darker, his golden eyes more mysterious. He glances once at me before stepping around my feet and continuing down the hallway. "And we did split up, but if you had left your comms on you would have heard me tell you to meet back up with us."

Looking at Jax, you would expect him to be quite noisy when walking down the cluttered hallway. But you hear nothing. He's dead silent, and if you didn't see him, you wouldn't even know he was there. That's his Gift. The manipulation of sound waves, but he can do much more than make himself quiet.

I know I shouldn't react to his jab, but I just can't help myself. "Well you're Mr. Sound guy, why didn't you just manipulate the waves to make me hear you?"

When his voice whispers directly into my ear despite him being ahead of me, I can't help but jump. "Leah, we don't have time for this right now. And I really don't need you starting these childish games in front of Liam, especially while on a mission. He's a rookie, we need to set a good example."

"Jax, there's no one here. We don't need to be on high alert right now." I whisper, knowing he can hear me.

He glances over one broad shoulder, letting his eyes find mine for just a second. Just long enough to make his message clear. "You can't know that for sure." Just like that, my entire happiness blows away like a vapor. I'm back to the Leah that existed two years ago, someone who was too broken to speak.

"You guys are really annoying, you know that?" Liam's slight form steps in stride with mine. "I know you guys are having secret conversations and using his Gift to keep it quiet. We're supposed to be a team, remember? I want to know what the tea is!"

No matter what kind of mood you're in, you can never keep a smile off your face when Liam is around. I feel my lips involuntarily pull themselves apart into a smile, and I shove him lightly. He feigns like my touch actually hurt him, before breaking out into a smile.

"Stop playing around, rookie. Leah, bring up the rear. " Jax keeps his voice short and curt, all leadership mode right now. I allow my steps to slow, just long enough to get behind Liam. Every once in a while, I drop to a knee and face behind us for a moment. I let my eyes rove over the room, looking for any signs of trouble.

We round a few more corners, trip over a few more fallen columns, and eventually we reach our main objective. All Unity bases have a briefing hall where the base itself keeps in touch with HQ. Hourly updates are required, and if any trouble starts, they send it in with a red flare code. The real mission we were assigned was labeled "classified", which basically means for one reason or another the agency doesn't want people knowing about it. The underlying mission was given to us by the Director himself, which means it's especially important. They sent us in to do the recovery of course, or at least that's what the cover story was. The main objective was to reach the briefing hall, and find out what happened on the day of the bombing. The Director used tons of flowery words to dress it up and make it sound like we actually had a clue what happened, but the true message was clear to me. HQ lost contact with the base a few hours before the bombing itself, and they want to know why. That's why they sent Liam.

The layout of the briefing hall is the same as most normal bases. The one at HQ is quite a bit bigger, but for a standard base, this seems about right. The once pristine tables and screens are now splintered or shattered. The usual semi-circle layout of the desks is unrecognizable, with tables thrown all over the room. Fallen slabs of concrete have crushed some of the wooden tables, and others litter the floor. The podium for the chairman was crushed by a falling pipe and now lies broken in half. Papers are scattered about in a pandemonium of patterns, most covered in dust and rubble. One sticks to my shoe, and I pull it off.

It's just a normal briefing pamphlet. We are handed these every time we are chosen to run a mission. This one has singed holes in it, and is splattered with crimson. The date on the sheet is June 26th, 3065. Three days ago. I can't help but wonder who this was given too, and to what mission it referred. I can't help but wonder if that person is even alive anymore. It's odd we haven't seen any bodies yet, but I suppose they could have been in the other half of the building where the bomb shelter is. It bothers me how the people who did this knew exactly what part of the base held the bomb shelter. 

I find myself lost in thought when Jax lays a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder. "Finish the mission, and mourn later." Another Instructor Mavis quote. Jax tilts his head till I meet his eyes. They are soft for once, and for a moment I find myself in a different memory. A memory of soft sheets, a warm body next to mine, and the smell of his aftershave. Just as quickly as it comes, it leaves. I want it to come back, but I know that memory is one that should never be opened again. Instead of losing myself once more, I straighten my spine and lift my chin. I nod curtly to him and look behind him to track Liam with my eyes.

The red-head stalks the room while twitching nervously. I know he doesn't want to do this, but it's why he was sent here. The agency sent him here with a mission, and he has to finish it. I move past Jax, ignoring his hand brushing down my arm when I walk away. I walk over the uneven ground, continuing until I am right behind Liam. "It's time."

He turns his head so fast it cracks, mouth hanging slightly open. His wide eyes meet mine, and I watch his adam's apple move when he swallows. He drops his eyes and steps around me, walking to the center of the room. He takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders, shakes out his arms. He mutters things to himself, but I can't hear them. Jax can, and he frowns slightly. Once he's ready, Liam drops to a knee, then lays a tentative hand on the ground. I watch him take one final deep breath and close his eyes, setting his jaw for the pain to come. When his fingers make contact, his entire body rocks forward for a moment, losing its balance when it's owner's mind travels beyond what we can see. He steadies himself and Liam's eyes snap open, a milky white color. He no longer sees what we see, but he sees the past. He sees what this room has seen. Liam is another Gifted, and one of the rarest breeds there are. They call this Gift a Seer. Kind of poetic, considering the ancient myth about seers. Who would have thought that hundreds of years later they would be real. Seers are quite useful, and the Agency worked hard to get the few we have. Most are older, more battle hardened. They are considered more valuable than Liam since he is still in training. That's why they sent him instead of someone else. I don't envy Liam. I've been told that the life of a Seer is not an easy one. The trips into the past or into one's mind are often quite painful. Jax and I are basically guard dogs, though Jax is a little more threatening. He's Gifted, and I'm not. It's that simple. There's also his skill level. His reputation is known worldwide, and he is widely famed for being an amazing captain, as well as the most attractive being to walk the planet. Jax is quite the heartthrob to girls and boys who live under Unity's rule, including Liam. I still find myself smirking every time Jax accidentally brushes against Liam's slighter form, mainly because he turns a deeper shade of red than his hair.

"The first instance happened the day before the bombing," Liam's voice catches here and there as he sifts through the past. "There's an agent. He's been accused of treason, working with the rebel forces. He's denying it, and he doesn't look happy. The captain is getting tired of his attitude, and the argument is getting heated. I don't think it's going to end very well." Liam shifts and quiets for a moment, brows furrowed as he watches something happen between two ghosts. "Oh my god, oh shhhh...." his voice trails off, draining into the back of his throat. I find myself leaning forward, and drop to a crouch. Whatever Liam is watching is definitely not going well, and I watch his eyes flit back and forth. "Umm guys? Something weird is happening. The agent, he was screaming at the General, and he turned around to where his back was to me. Then he just stopped, he's not talking anymore. He's dead still. The General is reaching... he's got his hand on the agent's shoulder and he's turning him around now. He..... oh god. Guys, the agent," Liam pauses and swallows. "His eyes are black. Like solid black."

I feel my own jaw drop, and I listen as Jax crouches down, examining something on the floor. Something silver and purple gleams between his fingers, a long silver chain hanging from the round pendant. My feet find their own way over to him, and I look over his shoulder to see what he has. Inbetween two fingers he holds a single silver pendant with a purple background and black snake curling around the necklace, it's head in the center, jaws wide and teeth bared with gleaming diamond venom dripping down its chin. I recognize it from an old instructor who told stories of a terrifying army of Shadows with frighteningly powerful abilities to kill, with a famed name. He called them the Basilisks.

"No dust on top, but dust underneath," Jax mutters.

"So it's fresh." I wonder aloud, my eyes finding the back of Jax's neck. I don't have long to evaluate what this could mean, because no sooner than the last syllable slips out of my lips does Liam let out a loud groan. My neck turns so fast that stray braids from my hair hit my face, silver ends slapping my cheeks.

Liam sits where he was moments ago, rubbing his forehead. "Sorry, it's just the bombing. It's a little bit of sensory overload." He continues massaging his head, soothing an ache. I walk over to his crouched form and place what I hope feels like a calming hand on his shoulder, running my fingers along the lean muscle that he has gained from training over the past months. Liam nods his head in the direction he thinks I'm in and mutters a short "thanks".

Jax rises from his crouch as well and comes towards us. I feel myself tense in anticipation, wondering what he will say. If it's going to be good or bad news. "Is he okay?" He asks softly.

I nod, running my fingers farther down his spine. "Yeah, he'll be okay. I know it has to be painful. Watching all of this happen." I wave my hand around to emphasize my point.

"I don't doubt it. He's stronger than he looks." Jax watches Liam, knowing he can't hear us. His golden eyes rove over the smaller man's light form, following the line of his jaw, down his neck, and down his spine to where my hand rests. His jaw tightens, and he looks away. "He needs to hurry. We need to get back to base and tell General Riggins what he saw."

"You mean the agent with the black eyes?" I know the answer. This mission just got ten times more important. Especially if it involves a Shadow.

Jax opens his mouth right as Liam goes dead silent. His muttering stops, his body no longer rocks back and forth. He's still. "Liam?" I run my hand back up his spine, letting it rest on his shoulder, pulling slightly so he might turn to me. Faster than lightning, his hand snaps up to mine, snatching my wrist in a vice-like grip. I rocket back, but his grip is too tight and I end up slamming down onto my rear. He turns to me, just slightly, eyes closed.

"You should know better than to look into the eyes of a Basilisk." He mutters, his voice taking on a monotone rhythm. My jaw drops as his eyes open.

And they're solid black.