The ambulance doors slammed shut.

  Ethan lay strapped to the gurney, an oxygen mask fogging with each shallow breath. His left hand was wrapped in thick gauze, already soaked through with red. The paramedic beside him worked fast—IV line in, vitals checked, radio crackling with updates to the ER.

  Across from him sat the man. Ming. Still calm. Still watching.

  The border collie lay at his feet, nose resting on its paws.

  "You're doing fine," Ming said. "Stay awake."

  Ethan's vision swam. He tried to nod, but his head felt too heavy.

  The siren wailed above them as the ambulance tore through the city.

  Elena's phone rang at 9:47 PM.

  She stared at the screen. Unknown Number.

  She almost didn't answer.

  Then she did.

  "Is this Elena Walker?"

  "…Yes."

  "This is Mercy General Hospital. Your brother, Ethan Walker, was brought in with a gunshot wound. He's stable, but we need you to—"

  The phone slipped from her hand.

  For three seconds, she didn't move.

  Then she ran.

  The hospital waiting room smelled like disinfectant and burnt coffee.

  Elena sat in a plastic chair, elbows on her knees, hands clasped so tight her knuckles had gone white. She hadn't cried. Hadn't spoken. Just sat there, staring at the double doors leading to surgery.

  A nurse had told her twenty minutes ago: "He's in good hands. The bullet went clean through. No major arteries."

  Elena didn't care about statistics. She cared about her brother.

  The doors opened.

  A doctor stepped out, pulling down his mask. "Family of Ethan Walker?"

  Elena shot to her feet. "Is he—?"

  "He's stable. Surgery went well. No nerve damage. He'll need physical therapy, but he should recover full function."

  Her legs nearly gave out.

  "Can I see him?"

  "He's in recovery. Give it an hour."

  She nodded. Sat back down. Exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours.

  Ethan woke to the sound of beeping.

  White ceiling. Fluorescent lights. The dull ache in his left hand sharpened into something hot and insistent.

  He turned his head.

  Elena sat in the chair beside his bed, arms crossed, eyes closed. Asleep. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

  She looked like hell.

  Ethan smiled.

  "Hey," he croaked.

  Her eyes snapped open. For half a second, she just stared at him.

  Then she leaned forward and punched him in the shoulder.

  "Ow—what the—"

  "You idiot."

  Her voice cracked.

  Ethan blinked. "I'm okay. I'm fine."

  "You got shot."

  "Yeah, but I'm fine now, so—"

  "You could've died, Ethan."

  He didn't have an answer for that.

  Elena sat back, jaw tight, eyes wet. She didn't wipe them.

  "Don't do that again."

  "Okay."

  "I mean it."

  "I know."

  Silence.

  Then Ethan grinned. "Did you eat dinner?"

  Elena stared at him.

  Then, despite everything, she laughed. Just once. Sharp and bitter and relieved all at once.

  "You're an idiot."

  "Yeah. You said that already."

  The next morning, a nurse brought Ethan a tray of food he didn't want and a visitor he didn't expect.

  The man from the garden stepped into the room, border collie at his side.

  Elena tensed immediately. "Who—?"

  "Relax." The man raised both hands, open palms. "I'm not here to cause trouble."

  Ethan sat up straighter. "You… you saved everyone. At the bus stop."

  "You saved them first." The man pulled up a chair, sat down without asking. The dog settled at his feet, calm as ever. "I just finished the job."

  Elena's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

  "Kongming, age forty." He paused. "Everyone calls me Ming."

  Ethan blinked. "Like… Zhuge Kongming? The strategist?"

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  Ming smiled faintly. "Something like that."

  "You're Awakened."

  "I am."

  Elena's voice was ice. "And what do you want?"

  Ming looked at her, then at Ethan. "I wanted to say thank you. You didn't have to run toward that bus stop. Most people would've frozen. Or run the other way."

  Ethan shrugged. "Didn't really think about it."

  "That's what made it brave."

  The dog yawned.

  Ming reached down, scratched behind its ears. "This is Cookie. She's been with me since before the Awakening. Smartest partner I've ever had."

  Ethan grinned. "She's the one who barked, right? Got everyone's attention."

  "She did."

  Elena crossed her arms. "You still haven't answered my question. What do you want?"

  "The man who shot you," Ming said carefully. "Do you remember anything about him?"

  Ethan's stomach tightened. He thought back—the restroom, the voice through the stall wall.

  "I... I heard him. In the bathroom. He was on the phone."

  Ming leaned forward. "What did he say?"

  "He said..." Ethan's throat felt dry. "He said, 'I am Merlin.'"

  The room went silent.

  Ming's expression shifted. For the first time since they'd met, he looked genuinely surprised.

  "Merlin," he repeated slowly.

  "Like... the wizard?" Ethan asked.

  "Like the prophet. The madman." Ming's jaw tightened. "One of REAPER's most dangerous executives."

  "REAPER." Elena's voice was flat. "The terrorist group."

  "More than that." Ming leaned forward. "REAPER isn't just causing chaos for fun. They're trying to end the world. Literally. And there's an organization fighting them. It's called Harvest."

  Ethan's eyes widened. "You're part of Harvest."

  "I am."

  Elena stood. "I don't care. Whatever war you're fighting, we're not part of it."

  "You already are." Ming's voice was calm. Certain. "Merlin saw your brother. He knows Ethan interfered. REAPER doesn't forget."

  Silence.

  Ethan looked at Elena. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

  Ming pulled a small card from his jacket and set it on the bedside table. Plain. No logo. Just an address.

  "I came here for two reasons. One was to thank you." He stood. "The other was to deliver an invitation."

  "From who?" Ethan asked.

  "My superior. After I filed my report, she gave me an order." Ming paused. "She wants to meet both of you. At Harvest HQ."

  Elena's laugh was sharp. Humorless. "You want us to walk into some secret base because a terrorist knows my brother's face? No. Absolutely not."

  "Elena—" Ethan started.

  "No." She turned to him, voice rising. "You almost died last night. And now he wants you to get more involved?"

  "REAPER is planning something," Ming said quietly. "Something that could kill millions. We're trying to stop it. But we're outnumbered. Outgunned. We need people who are willing to fight."

  "Then find someone else."

  "We're asking you."

  Elena stared at him. "Why? We're not Awakened. We're not soldiers. We're nobody."

  Ming met her gaze. "You're people who ran toward danger instead of away from it. That's rarer than you think."

  He turned and walked toward the door. Cookie followed.

  At the threshold, he stopped.

  "The address is on the card. If you decide to come, be there in three days. After that, the offer expires."

  He left.

  Elena grabbed the card and crumpled it in her fist.

  They argued for two days.

  Elena said no. Over and over. We're not heroes. We're not fighters. This isn't our war.

  Ethan said yes. Quietly. Stubbornly. REAPER is trying to destroy everything. If we can help stop that, shouldn't we?

  "You could die."

  "I could die crossing the street."

  "That's not the same."

  "Isn't it?"

  On the third day, Ethan was discharged. His hand was still bandaged, still aching, but functional.

  They stood outside the hospital, city noise washing over them.

  Elena stared at the crumpled card in her hand.

  "If we do this," she said slowly, "and something happens to you—"

  "It won't."

  "You don't know that."

  "No. But I know I can't just… go back to normal. Not after what I saw."

  Elena closed her eyes.

  Then she nodded.

  "Fine."

  Ethan's face lit up.

  "But if this gets you killed," she added, voice hard, "I'm going to be very angry."

  "Deal."

  The address led them to the edge of the city.

  A sprawling campus. Old brick buildings. Ivy-covered walls. It looked like a college.

  Ethan blinked. "This is Harvest HQ?"

  Ming stepped out from the main gate, Cookie at his side. "Surprised?"

  "Uh. Yeah."

  Elena said nothing. Just stared.

  Ming walked toward them. "Before we go in, I need to ask. Are you ready?"

  "Ready for what?" Ethan asked.

  "After you pass through this gate, there's no going back to normal life. You'll see things. Learn things. Once you know what Harvest is, you're part of it. One way or another."

  Ethan looked at Elena.

  She looked back.

  Then they both turned to Ming.

  "Yes."

  The gate groaned open.

  Ethan stepped forward, heart pounding. Elena followed, jaw set, fingers curled into fists.

  They crossed the threshold together.

  Inside, the campus was alive.

  People everywhere—moving with purpose, carrying equipment, talking in groups. But none of them looked like students. Too old. Too scarred. Too sharp.

  "Welcome to Harvest," Ming said. "We operate out of this campus. Five main departments: Strategy, Weapons, Food, Security, and Medical. Each one keeps us running."

  Ethan stared. "How many people work here?"

  "About three hundred. Give or take."

  They passed a group of teenagers—fifteen, maybe sixteen—carrying tactical bags.

  Ethan frowned. "Are those kids part of Harvest?"

  "They're Awakened," Ming said. "Most of them remember being soldiers. Warriors. They're teenagers in body, but not in mind."

  Elena's gaze snagged on a child across the courtyard. Maybe seven years old. Black hair. Bright smile.

  Her breath hitched.

  For a second, she saw her. Her daughter. The way she used to run. The way she used to laugh.

  Tears blurred her vision.

  Ethan's hand landed on her shoulder. "Sis. You okay?"

  She blinked hard. Nodded. "I'm fine."

  She wasn't.

  Ming led them into a large building. Through hallways lined with maps, monitors, people moving like ants in a hive.

  They stopped outside a door marked STRATEGY.

  Ming knocked twice, then pushed it open.

  Inside: a war room. Screens on every wall. A large table in the center covered in maps, files, photos.

  And standing at the head of the table: an old man. White hair. Military posture. Sharp eyes that had seen too much.

  "General Marcus," Ming said. "This is Ethan and Elena Walker."

  The General stepped forward, extending a hand. "Glad to meet you. Fellow New Humans."

  Ethan shook it. "You're… not Awakened?"

  "I am not. Just an old soldier trying to keep the world from burning." Marcus smiled faintly. "But you're not here to meet me."

  He turned toward a side door.

  "You're here to meet the founder."

  Elena's pulse quickened. "Founder?"

  Marcus nodded. "Her Highness has been waiting."

  Her Highness?

  Ethan and Elena exchanged a glance.

  Queen? Princess?

  Ming's voice cut through their thoughts. "Follow me. Quickly. We need to get to the Chamber."

  The Chamber was quiet.

  A circular room. High ceiling. Soft light filtering through stained glass windows. And at the center, standing with her hands clasped in front of her—

  A woman.

  No.

  A goddess.

  She was radiant. Golden hair that seemed to glow. Eyes the color of summer sky. A smile that felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

  Ethan's breath caught.

  Elena stood frozen.

  The woman stepped forward.

  "Welcome," she said softly. "I've been waiting for you."

  Her voice was warm. Kind. Impossibly gentle.

  "My name is Eva."