The door hissed open with a pneumatic sigh, and General Helen stepped inside first, her bright voice cutting through the sterile hum of the room.

  “Here we are,” she said, sweeping an arm as if she were revealing something far grander than a steel chamber.

  The room itself was long and narrow, every surface a brushed alloy that caught the faint blue glow of recessed wall lights. The air hummed with the faint throb of power conduits running beneath the floor. Along the walls, the beds weren’t the usual cots—they were sealed pods mounted vertically, each with a sliding hatch and a small panel glowing with biometric locks.

  There were five pods in total. The central pod stood apart, slightly larger, marked with subtle command insignia: the leader's, no doubt. The others lined up symmetrically on either side, their screens flickering faintly with diagnostic runes, waiting for their new occupants. Above the pods, thin strips of lighting ran like constellations, shifting faintly to simulate night or day when needed.

  A narrow locker unit stood beside it, already sectioned into five compartments, each identified with glowing sigils of their names. The floor was a magnetized alloy, keeping anything dropped from floating if the ship’s gravity plates failed.

  “Efficient, isn’t it?” Helen grinned, her hands on her hips. “Your pods are calibrated to your vitals—you’ll get the best rest the tech can give.”

  Jett stepped forward first, eyes narrowing at the central pod before smirking and tapping the control panel. The hatch slid open with a low hiss, the inside glowing faintly with padded foam that pulsed as if it were alive. “Guess this one’s mine,” he said.

  Mason wandered to one of the side pods, observing it. Vey crouched by hers, eyes darting over the targeting assist module on the panel. Keisha leaned against the locker, arms folded but quietly pleased by the organization, while Liv’s gaze lingered upward at the light strips, her face softened by the artificial starlight.

  Helen clapped her hands once. “Good. Get settled.”

  With that, she gave them a wink, sunlight in her smile even against the cold alloy walls, and left the five of them standing in the glow of their new quarters.

  The hiss of hydraulics filled the chamber as Mason pressed his hand to the biometric pad of one of the pods. A soft blue light rippled across the surface, his name flashing into place. He smirked, half-turning back to the others.

  “Looks like this one’s mine.”

  Before he could climb in, Liv’s voice cut across the room, quicker than she meant it to.

  “I’ll bunk next to Mason.”

  Her cheeks colored as the words hung in the air. Keisha smiled, her brows raised; Vey tilted her head with a grin, and Jett just let out a low whistle as he examined his own pod in the center of the row.

  “Called it fast, Liv,” Vey said, her voice calm but amused.

  “Wha—it’s just, you know, I like the view,” Liv stammered, brushing hair behind her ear.

  “Uh huh, ‘The view?’” Keisha grinned. “What view?” She beckoned at the wall.

  “Shut up.” Liv was flustered. “You don't mind, do you?”

  “Knock yourself out.” Jett was still admiring his pod.

  “Go crazy.” Vey was studying hers as well.

  “Sure.” Keisha smiled.

  “Sure thing.” Mason grinned and jumped into his pod.

  Jett turned, finally stepping forward. His pod’s central hatch opened with a slow hiss, the command insignia pulsing faintly on its frame. He leaned against it with the authority he carried so easily, arms crossed.

  “Alright, let’s get one thing straight.” His tone was sharp. “We’re a unit now. Which means I need to know exactly what each of you can do. I know we all got affected by the Pulse Stream. You’ve got powers, you lay them out. If I don’t know what you can do, I can’t keep you alive.”

  The room fell quiet, the hum of the conduits underfoot filling the silence.

  “But you already know our abilities?” Mason squirmed in his pod, with a half-grin.

  Jett glared at him. "It's required for all of you to state it out."

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  "You're the boss," he said lightly.

  Jett's eyes flicked to him first. "Then start us off, Mason. Show us what you're packing."

  Mason sat up. "Fine," he said with a shrug. "Umm… I'm an average martial artist: kick, punch… As you all know, I'm what The Order calls a 'Pulseborn' with pulse energy flowing through my veins, which means my physical specifications are way higher than the average man. I've got my kinetic gloves; they draw power from my pulse energy and make me stronger."

  Blue light flickered briefly across his veins before he clenched his fist, cutting it off.

  "Sometimes I let loose and tap directly into my pulse energy. I become stronger and faster, I heal faster, and I can also become a killing machine, as demonstrated against this guy," he pointed at Jett. Then he looked at his hands and continued talking.

  "But the longer I keep pushing it, the worse it gets because I'm still human. My muscles lock up, like they're carrying more weight than they should. Every breath feels like it's burning. The energy eats at me. My vision blurs, my hands shake, and if I don't stop, my body shuts down. I black out, and when I wake up, I feel like I've been chewed up and spat out."

  Mason looked at them and saw their horror-stricken faces. "So yeah… over the line, I'm basically useless when I use my abilities directly. Pretty stupid and ironic, am I right?" he tried to play it off, but the silence that followed wasn't laughter. It was heavy and suffocating.

  Everyone thought they knew what being a Pulseborn meant—limitless pulse energy, unstoppable power, a gift without cost. Hearing it from him, laid bare and raw, stripped away that illusion, and they all felt sympathetic towards him.

  Jett broke the silence: "Well, that was… insightful; now we know what to watch out for when 'that' happens."

  Mason grinned. "You got it." He knew Jett was shaken up and was trying to hide his unease. Mason found it amusing.

  Jett jerked his chin toward Vey. "Vey, you're next." Vey snapped out of her thoughts. "I'm a sharpshooter," she said simply, her tone cool. There was a bout of silence.

  "Okay… so?"

  "Well, I would explain it to you guys, but you might not understand."

  "Try us," Keisha mock grinned.

  Vey sighed and flicked her gaze toward the locker, and her pupils shifted, sharpening to an amber gleam. "My orbital area isn't like yours; it got altered by the Pulse Stream, so I can see things most people can't: heat trails, ultraviolet marks, even faint traces of pulse energy when someone like Mason goes crazy." She gazed intently at him. Her eyes softened back to normal, and she gave a half-shrug. "Thin walls and alloys don't stop me either. Useful when people think hiding means safety."

  Jett raised an eyebrow. "X-ray girl. Cute."

  "It's not X-ray, Blitzy," she shot back flatly. "I can't see through everything. High concentrations of certain lead materials, dense alloys, and some engineered barriers—they stop me cold. Still, enough to make cover a suggestion, not protection."

  She stretched her fingers, curling them into a loose fist. "My eyes don't just see; they calculate: trajectories, ricochets, angles. If I fire, I already know where the bullet's going to land, even if I'm bouncing it off a wall. That's how I hit what I hit."

  A pause.

  "When I focus too hard, the world slows down. Like everything's stuck in molasses except me. It lets me track things I shouldn't be able to—speedsters, incoming fire." She looked at them. "I call it Predator Focus."

  "Neat!" Mason quipped.

  She shrugged. “It might sound neat, but trust me, it's not that easy. My body is trained to withstand prolonged use of my vision, but like Mason, if I push it too far… I get migraines, headaches, nosebleeds, the usual human weaknesses. Using my predator focus burns me out fast, mentally and physically. Flashbangs and high-intensity lights make me useless. And if someone gets close enough to put a blade to my throat? I don’t have Keisha’s durability or Jett’s speed. I’m just… me.”

  “Interesting…” Jett nodded.

  “Glad you find it interesting.” She eyed him.

  “I didn't mean it—” Jett started but rolled his eyes. “Keisha?”

  Keisha gave a low whistle. “Well, now I feel like I got the low end of the Pulse Stream.” She cracked her knuckles. “I'm a martial arts genius, way better than Mr. Average over here.” She jerked her finger at Mason.

  “Ouch?”

  “While everyone here trained in basic martial arts, I’ve trained in every style you can name—Karate, Judo, Taekwondo, Muay Thai, Kung Fu, Jiu Jitsu, Capoeira, Wing Chun… yeah, even Krav Maga. I can read a fight before it starts, predict moves, flip, strike, lock—name it, I’ve done it. Some people call it instinct. I call it years of getting my ass kicked. Over and over and over again.”

  They looked at her with questioning expressions, so she continued.

  “That's right,” she grinned. “Unlike your weak, squishy, fragile, pathetic little bodies,”

  “Really?” Mason was irked.

  “Are you fucking serious?” Vey eyed her, but Keisha continued.

  “My body has been trained to near perfection. Through years of training and constant ass-whooping, I have developed a durable body. It takes a lot to break me, and I know how to break back. It's not as flashy or glamorous as you guys’, but it works. Every. Damn. Time.”

  “So, you pack quite a punch, huh?” Jett grinned.

  “Hey, I don't know why you guys are picking on me,” Mason raised his hand. “But it's not cool.”

  “Yeah, sure, try not to black out, Pulsey.” Keisha sniggered.

  “Ooh, that's a good one.” Vey gave Keisha a thumbs up.

  Jett chuckled, while Liv smiled.

  “Sure, pick on the guy with a disability, would you?” Mason rolled his eyes.

  “Liv?”

  Liv hesitated when the attention turned to her. Her fingers traced the edge of her pod hatch before she spoke. “Alright… so my thing’s swords. Any type, any size. I can pull them out of thin air—daggers, longswords, even bigger stuff if I need it. It’s… kind of like they’re an extension of me.”

  She stretched her arm out, and a dagger materialized in her hand. She gripped it tightly. “It depends on my emotional state, what I'm feeling at the moment. The stronger my mental concentration,” the dagger turned into a katana, “the stronger my blade. My feelings can sometimes interfere with my mental state, so I need a measure of concentration and level-headedness to maintain the form of my sword.”

  “So, just swords?” Vey asked.

  “Not just swords,” Liv shook her head. She flicked her wrists, and the katana turned into a spear. “I can also do this. I've tried working on other weapons, you know, like guns and stuff…”

  “Can you make a Specter Mark II?” Vey interrupted.

  “What's that?” Liv raised a brow.

  Vey shrugged. “It's a sniper rifle.”

  Liv frowned. “Nope, I can only manage a pistol.” The spear disappeared, and a pistol took its place. “I move fast, fluid. Spins, flips, precise strikes… I’ve trained my body to make every motion count. Close-range, mid-range, whatever the fight demands. I’m not invincible, though. One wrong hit, and I’ll feel it.”

  “That's cool,” Mason simply stated, but it threw Liv off guard, and the pistol vanished.

  “Someone got distracted…” Vey smirked.

  “So, a weapon specialist…” Jett muttered. “Alright, I think you're all accustomed to mine. I'm a speedster, and I'm stupidly fast on my own, but with this…” he pulled out his customized daggers, “I warp through time.”

  “Time travel?”

  “Not entirely; let me demonstrate…” Jett walked over to the door and threw his dagger at the opposite wall. In an instant, he appeared next to the wall.

  “It takes me three hundred and fifty milliseconds to get from that door to this wall with my speed,” Jett removed the dagger. “But with this, it takes less than fifty.”

  “So, you can't actually time travel,” Vey groaned. “That's stupid.”

  “I know, right?” Mason agreed.

  “What? How is that stupid?” Jett was pissed. “I literally blitzed right in front of you!!”

  “Yeah, but I can shoot faster than that,” Vey smirked.

  “I just skipped running; I didn't expend energy and…” Jett stopped. “You know what, forget it.”

  “Someone's getting mad…” Mason smiled at Vey. The two chuckled loudly.

  “Stop goofing around, you two,” Keisha spoke up.

  “Yeah, even if he can't time travel, I still think it's pretty cool,” Liv smiled.

  “Thank you, Liv,” Jett grinned. “Now, we've got to get some rest; we leave for universe nineteen tomorrow,” he said and made for the kitchen area.

  ***

  It was obvious none of them were used to this kind of space. They were all awake, but they kept still.

  Mason lay down in his pod, unable to sleep. He shifted again.

  “Can’t sleep?” came Keisha’s voice from her pod across the room.

  He exhaled slowly. “I’m just… thinking.”

  “We all are,” Jett’s voice drifted from the center, quiet but steady. “But the smartest move right now is sleep. We’ll need the energy.”

  No one replied. But the stillness that followed said enough.