A secret service agent guided Solomon Winter, a blind man in his early 40s, dark brown skin, dressed in a suit and tie, full of charm and worldly experience, through the White House. She was enthralled with one of Solomon's tales. He was recalling the time when he was still a young soldier. While heading to an outpost in the desert, his plane was shot down by enemies. Solomon thought he was the only survivor. Someone else in his unit survived but went missing, presumed to have been taken by enemies. Solomon pursued, despite the Chief Principals ordering him not to. Solomon's comrade wasn't taken, he was so dazed after the crash that he wandered off for miles. The point of his recollection: no matter how lost a person seemed, they could always be saved.

The agent said, "Your life must've flashed before the crash."

Solomon replied, "It did. I saw myself eventually speaking with a beautiful agent. You."

The agent said, "You're making me blush, Mr. Winter."

Solomon continued, "And smiling, I hope. Without a doubt, that smile is a gift to the world."

*****E V*****

Inside the Oval Office, President Crawford was seated on a leather couch. He was a thin man in his mid 60s, gray hair and beard. Seated across from him was his wife, the First Lady, Rosemary.

Crawford asked, "Would you excuse us?"

On her way out, Rosemary greeted Solomon. It wasn't often that she was happy. Her scarf covered the day-old bruises. "It's so good to see you, my friend!" she said.

Solomon said, "Likewise. We'll have to catch up soon."

Rosemary responded, "Don't let him bore your ear off."

As the two men got situated at the president's desk, Crawford offered Solomon a cup of coffee to which he declined. In his organization, Solomon held an executive position as one of the Chief Principals. His position and friendship with Rosemary got him this meeting.

Crawford said, "This Eon crisis is getting out of hand. For three months now, that monster has inflicted so much carnage that allies are beginning to question my ability to resolve this matter. They're worried his campaign of destruction will spread to their countries. I must put an end to his terror. I am formally requesting assistance from your House of Knights."

Solomon replied, "Fortunately, my operatives have been training to combat special threats like Eon Viants."

There were other things on Solomon's mind. He may not have been able to see Crawford's face, but he heard stress within the president's tone. Crawford's reputation as being short-tempered was well-known. It wasn't unheard of for him to violently lash out.

Solomon said, "Mr. President, as much as Eon Viants are a rarity, they're as much a mystery. Just what we know now about their capabilities is astounding. And imagine an Eon Viant fighting on the side of the righteous."

"You think it hasn't been tried?" Crawford asked.

"I'm not talking about coercion, I'm talking about an Eon Viant volunteering to fight with us because of a common ideal."

Crawford wouldn't even bother to give it thought. He had seen the surveillance footage of Eon Viants revolting against their capturers. It usually ended like a horror movie.

Crawford said, "Eon Viants are far too powerful to control. We're fortunate the majority of them stay away from earth."

Unlike the president, Solomon didn't get to his position because of nepotism. He got there because of his strategies, and he knew Crawford was making a mistake.

Solomon said, "Mr. President, I urge you to reconsider--"

Crawford exclaimed, "I already said no! Now, follow my orders, or I'll get someone else to!"

Solomon didn't budge. He had experienced more terrifying forces on the battlefield. Crawford, however, had gathered himself when secret service agents barged in.

Crawford said, "Coffee was too hot. Burned my lip."

When they were alone once more, Crawford remembered to be careful around Solomon. The president was used to fighting people who couldn't fight back against him. People frightened with upsetting him. Solomon wasn't afraid.

Crawford said, "Assemble your best team. Take out this terrorist."

*****E V*****

Knarrow's Island was home to the paramilitary, House of Knights. Their headquarters were built into ancient ruins and outfitted with modern technology.

The chamber was where the Chief Principals met to discuss crucial matters. It was window-less and freezing. Aside from Solomon, there were only three others like him: Chief Principal Fallene, Chief Principal Springer, and Chief Principal Summer.

Springer said, "If we execute this Eon Viant, we'll attain much needed acclaim. People will fight to support us. Hollywood will no doubt make films about us." The 50 year-old was as solid as a bear and had wanted to be world famous for over five decades.

Solomon said, "You're focused on the wrong thing, Principal Springer. It's imperative that we salvage Knightgrade."

Summer chimed in, "I agree with Principal Winter. We reallocated a lot of resources into that operation." She was a redhead and the youngest of the Chief Principals in her early 30s.

Springer wasn't having it. Eon Viants severed ties with humanity a long time ago. Any that remained on earth, especially one causing so much wanton violence and destruction deserved execution in his eyes.

The mid-40s brown-haired, slightly overweight Fallene interjected. "Principal Winter, it was requested by President Crawford that you accompany the extermination team and oversee operations."

Chief Principals never went anywhere near the battlefield. They called the shots from headquarters. It didn't matter how much Solomon objected, he was outnumbered. Nurturing a relationship with America's president could open the door to untold benefits; that was the only thing Springer and Fallene cared about.

Solomon said, "Very well. I will honor Crawford's request."

*****E V*****

The hallways were sparse. As Solomon walked with his cane, operatives ensuring gave him enough space. After an operative barged out from a doorway too quickly, he bumped into Solomon and apologized. Solomon's reputation put him in the good graces of most operatives.

Solomon and Summer took to a quiet spot outside. After meetings, they sometimes vented to each other about whatever controversial decision or disrespect they were annoyed with. The platform they were on was raised a couple of stories, giving them the best view of the island. Although Solomon couldn't enjoy the sight, he enjoyed the breeze and smell of pine.

Solomon said, "Since its inception, the House of Knights has never sent any of its principals into the battlefield. This is an insult to our forefathers' intentions."

Summer said, "I don't like it anymore than you, Solomon, but if it strengthens our relationship with someone like Crawford, then it's the right course."

"Even if it's a ploy to have me killed?"

"Why does Crawford hate you so much?"

"It's a long, petty story."

"My favorite kind."

Solomon refused to tell the story. He was a man who made a conscious effort to close people out of his personal life. No one really knew much about him other than the few public facts, like his parents being some of the original Chief Principals. Even then, Solomon was so guarded, he never spoke about his parents if he could help it.

Solomon's brave exploits as a former operative told people everything they needed to know about him.

Summer asked, "Do you have a team in mind?"

How powerful is the Eon Viant?, he wondered. Despite Gabriel Honor's excessive attacks, there wasn't enough data. Yes, everyone knew Eon Viants had manipulation over elements and were abnormally strong but to what extent? In the previous war, a covert unit of Eon Viants sunk a country into the Pacific Ocean in one night. It was clear this new threat was using similar tactics or was part of that unit. Solomon needed a team who could handle that.

*****E V*****

Down in the courtyard were a group of fresh recruits. They were impressionable young teens-- orphans, runaways, and juveniles. They had gathered around the tiled ring to observe a sparring match. Their instructor, Jyn Huntingfield, circled them all, sharing counsel. She had long brown hair, green eyes, and toned muscles underneath her form-fitting uniform. A yellow bandana neck scarf was tied securely around her.

Her co-instructor was Mackey. He was an extraordinarily tall and lean 20 year-old and was a gentle soul.

Things got heated in the ring when one recruit became overeager and struck a little harder than normal. Jyn quickly got between both combatants, stopping the fight.

Jyn said, "Good job, you two! That's an excellent example of what we shouldn't do."

The two combatants swallowed their pride and rejoined the other trainees. Jyn paced back and forth, sharing wise words with them all.

Jyn said, "Defeat is an opportunity to build character." She was 11 when Solomon once shared those words.

She then gave them a lecture on strength, reminding them that even the strongest enemies had weaknesses. That just reaffirmed Solomon's decision in recruiting her.

After dismissing her class, she and Mackey walked along, already planning for the next lesson when they were met by Solomon by one of the columns.

Jyn said, "Solomon! What's going on, sir?"

Solomon said, "President Crawford requested help from the House of Knights to take down the Eon Viant terrorist."

Jyn replied, "When do I leave out?" She already knew what was on his mind. Perk of working together for so long.

"Tomorrow morning. I'm selecting the rest of the team now."

Solomon had misled Crawford earlier out of necessity. The House of Knights never trained for specialized threats like Eon Viants. But, he believed they were capable.

He hoped.

Mackey stepped up. "I was one of Jyn's first students. I've used everything that she taught me."

Solomon responded, "This isn't going to be like a mission in the Grids. You may not return."

Jyn said, "I vouch for him. If he says he's ready, he's ready."

Solomon responded, "Very well. Now, for the final member."

Mackey said, "If I may, sir, I have a suggestion."

*****E V*****

The Impulse had been airborne for a few hours. The sun had yet to rise. As Mackey piloted the jet, the rest of the team had gathered around Solomon. A video pieced together of Gabriel's attack on dozens of military bases played on a large monitor. Surveillance and cell phone caught the Eon Viant mercilessly overpowering military soldiers from various angles.

Solomon said, "There's no pattern to his attack. But, our intel teams are good. The second he reappears, we'll know."

There was some tension in the room. Not from Solomon or Jyn but from their younger counterparts, Mackey and Bree.

Bree asked, "What's the plan, sir?" She was a year younger than her best friend, Mackey, extraordinarily focused and overly excited to speak with Solomon.

Solomon said, "Containment is priority. Executing the Eon Viant will not get us answers."

Bree asked, "Answers?"

Jyn interrupted. "If we capture him, we can find out the next targets. And he may not be working alone."

Bree exclaimed, "Genius, sir!"

Solomon said, "Mackey, Bree? You'll take this time to form a strategy with Jyn."

*****E V*****

Auto-pilot was set. Solomon sat alone in the cockpit, in deep thought. Jyn brought a bottle of water.

Jyn said, "Hey, boss. Figured you were thirsty." She made sure the bottle got in his hand. She was always taking care of him, more of an overly concerned daughter than a nurse.

Solomon was quenched, appreciative, welcoming to Jyn joining him.

Jyn said, "I have decent news and horrible news."

Solomon chuckled, "Glad I'm already sitting down, then."

Jyn continued, "The decent news is our highest chance of success is 29%. Even with a bigger team, it doesn't go up much. The horrible news is no matter what we do, we won't be able to stop wide devastation. Whatever structure is in the area will be destroyed. People will die."

Some people could sleep like a baby after demanding subordinates to risk their lives for a cause, whether they believed in it or not. For Solomon, it kept him up at nights.

Solomon said, "Thanks for backing me up earlier."

Jyn replied, "If I didn't, the others might have objected if they knew you want to recruit the Eon Viant."

Jyn and Solomon built rapport years ago. He was the visionary, she was the weapon. That's how it was, that's how she liked it. If Solomon wanted to convince the Eon Viant to join their ranks, she would accept it, unlike the other operatives who would certainly oppose. But stopping an Eon Viant, much less convincing one to join them sounded like an impossible task even for Solomon.

The ringing phone broke up the silence. Jyn answered it for Solomon. On the other end was a frantic operative yelling into the receiver: "Principal Winter! The Eon Viant is at the Berion office!"

*****E V*****

As the Impulse was on course for its destination, the trio of Jyn, Mackey, and Bree explored computer simulations. It wasn't the most exciting thing, more nerve-wrecking when they realized almost every simulation ended with them dying if not severely wounded.

Jyn said, "Our best play is to draw the target out into the open. Bree, you'll get his attention from long-range. The Impulse has a Spader railgun onboard. It packs a punch. I'll use it to disorient the target before takedown. However, if the target fails to take the bait, Mackey will be in close proximity to lure him out."

Mackey agreed with the plan, but Bree objected. "Why does Mackey have to be the bait? Aren't you team leader?" she asked.

Jyn wouldn't ask a subordinate to do something that she wasn't willing to do, but Bree wasn't having it.

Bree said, "I have a suggestion. The target will probably still be in a building, so why don't we just initiate a cave-in? The Impulse has missiles onboard, and he's an Eon Viant, it's not like he won't survive it, but we can at least knock him out."

Jyn replied, "Presuming you intend to evacuate every person in the building first, we don't have that kind of time. You did intend to clear people out, right?"

Bree responded. "Chances are high the soldiers will already be dead by the time we get there, so what does it matter?"

Jyn didn't know how to respond since she was still registering what was said.

Mackey quickly said, "She didn't mean that."

Bree said, "Look, I don't mean to sound callous, but it's the truth. I figured you knew that. Besides, your plan risks Mackey's life and mine while you get to stay out of danger."

Mackey intervened between them. "That's enough, Bree!"

Jyn wouldn't tolerate disrespect, but she held her tongue. "I understand you're afraid, but you're going to be fine. We're going to be fine, okay?"

*****E V*****

In the bomb bay, the trio of operatives geared up. After placing a communication device into her ear canal, Jyn then put a strip of bubblegum in her mouth. When she was younger, it eased her nerves. Now, it was just routine. The cherry flavor went off in her mouth.

Mackey and Bree nervously fastened the last of their bootstraps. Their palms were clammy. A bead of sweat trickled down Bree's face.

Bree said, "Sorry about earlier, ma'am. It's not everyday that operatives like us get a chance to impress a Chief Principal. I don't want to be low level forever. It sucks being irrelevant."

Jyn said, "You'll be recognized for your talent. But, right now is not the time to focus on that. People need us."

Jyn understood why Bree was nervous. Eon Viants were notoriously durable. It was never confirmed how much conventional weapons wounded them. Popular thinking was that bullets and blades slowed them down long enough until they were forced to retreat or leave out of boredom.

When the ramp opened, a wave of heat rushed in. Jyn wished her team success before they leapt into the ash-filled skies.

When the clouds cleared up, a visual could be made of the downtown area. A couple of buildings were set ablaze. Vehicles had been toppled. The fire could be traced back to a fuel truck smashed into a gas station.

Upon reaching 6,000 feet, Mackey released the pilot chute. As he descended, a blur fell past.

Mackey said, "Bree, you're going too fast! Pull your chute!"

Bree ignored him. She was determined to prove herself in anyway possible. She pulled the chute a second too late. She almost overshot the skyscraper opposite the Berion recruiting outpost.

A current of wind got caught up in Bree's parachute, nearly yanking her off the roof. The parachute fought against her every effort to pull herself to safe ground. With her knife, she cut herself free of the parachute, pulled herself up, and breathed a sight of relief.

Bree said, "I'm ok! I'm all right!"

At the edge of the building, she looked through the lens of her sniper rifle, scanning the Berion output across the street. Columns of windows had been shattered. Gunshots and faint screams were drowned out by the fire alarm. She barely got a glimpse of Gabriel backlit by the inferno, barreling through wave after wave of soldiers.

Bree said, "Got 'em! 22nd floor!"

Bree fired off a couple of shots, in hopes of drawing out the Eon Viant. She hit whatever was concealed in the smoke. A spear was chucked in her direction at high speed. The spear was an assemblage of stone, hardwood, and ceramics, and it nearly took off Bree's head.

Bree exclaimed, "The target did not take the bait! I repeat! The Eon Viant did not take the bait!"

*****E V*****

Hearing Bree over his radio, Mackey hurried down the stairwell, descending floor after floor, the 31st, 27th, 23rd. He was on the 22nd floor, and before even reaching the handle, a soldier was flung through the door, ripping it right off its hinges. Mackey had to regain his composure after seeing the corpse just dangling over the railing. It looked like it had been mauled by a pack of lions.

His sword and firearm drawn, Mackey moved down hallway, following a trail of bodies. At the center of an office, within the suffocating smoke and scorching heat was Gabriel. His armor was stained red, his fury only matched by the surrounding flames.

Mackey ran.

He led the Eon Viant on a chase. While Mackey turned corners, Gabriel just broke down the walls.

Mackey unleashed a series of shots, weakening the window. The plan was simple. Upon diving through the window, he would initiate an emergency parachute deployment and hovering nearby would be the Impulse. Jyn was already at the jet's side door. As the door gunner, she was manning the Spader cannon, a miniaturized railgun.

Mackey dove through the window, shattering the glass. His hand was about to pull the chute when Gabriel caught him and yanked him back inside.

Bree frantically said, "The target has Mackey! Jyn! Did you hear me?! I can't see them! I'm going in."

Jyn's voice was heard in her ear. "Negative! Stay in position! I'm coming around!"

The Impulse got in close enough for Jyn to drop onto the roof. After zipping down the stairwell, she hurried to the smoking 22nd floor. Although she covered her mouth with her bandana, she had tears running down her face.

Mackey was pinned to the wall. He was so dazed he didn't know where he was. Jyn tried uprooting the lance to free him, but it was nailed tight, like it was part of the building.

Mackey said, "Go..." It was all he could say.

Jyn said, "I'm not leaving you like this."

Gabriel was at the other end of the room. In his hands were blades twice his size. The two warriors circled each other, studying one another. Jyn wouldn't attack first, and Gabriel was taken aback by an enemy equipped with swords instead of firearms.

Jyn said, "You don't want to do this. I'm not your enemy."

The moment was interrupted by screaming bullets.

Bree had got to them from pulling the cord of her second chute and glided over. Tears swelling, she recklessly fired.

Gabriel smashed his weapons as hard as possible into the ground. The shockwave rippled through every floor. The skeleton frame was weakened, and like a tree cut at its trunk, the top half of the building tipped over.

*****E V*****

The power was out, and the radios no longer functioned. Gabriel had escaped by leaping through a narrow hole in the ceiling before the building completely toppled. It was just Jyn in darkness.

Pain shot out of her shoulder. She pulled something sharp out. Some kind of piping, she guessed.

Jyn said aloud, "Mackey? Bree!"

It was impossible to walk. Hallways had transformed into burrows to crawl through. It was a claustrophobic nightmare. The light from the red sky filtered through the cracks, exposing her path. Suddenly, she started an incline. It would only be a matter of time before finding an escape now.

Her hands reached out, grabbing the wooden panels of desks and an open pipe in the floor. Something blocked her path. She touched it, trying to interpret it. Her hands scaled up the object. Steel wall panel became ceramic plating. Her hands continued tracing upwards until they brushed against flesh. The red light unveiled Mackey's pale face just enough. His mangled body was still one with the wall.

Fighting back tears, Jyn climbed over his corpse, squeezing through the opening over his shoulder.

Her path now was a stretch of windows. Hundreds of feet below was the city street. If her heart could have jumped from her chest, it would have. She cautiously crawled.

Many windows were already shattered, but some were still intact, some had cracks. As Jyn was proning, the cracks started to spread and formed what it looked like growing spider webs.

Just over the horizon was the point where the Berion building leaned into a stable building.

Then, Bree's voice called from the darkness, "Help! Someone help me!"

Jyn hesitated, just for the briefest of seconds. She didn't know how much longer the glass would hold. She didn't want to stick around to find out, but she couldn't leave Bree.

*****E V*****

In an executive's office, Bree was buried underneath a conference table, her face pressed against a severely cracked glass window.

Jyn said, "Hold on. I'm going to get you out."

Bree asked, "Jyn?" She was relieved yet disappointed.

Jyn carefully made her way over and tried to wedge an opening.

Bree asked, "Did you find Mackey?"

Jyn said, "He's dead."

Bree was broken. "You told me to stay back, and I didn't listen. You were talking down the Eon Viant, and I messed it up. I'm so stupid."

Jyn replied, "Look, I need your help if you're getting out of this."

Bree continued, "...You know, I had hoped you died. I know, I'm a terrible person for saying that. I didn't want you telling Principal Winter how I messed up."

Jyn said, "This isn't your fault, okay? Now, focus."

In Bree's hand was the leg of a chair. She desperately hit the window under Jyn. Over and over, the cracks multiplying.

Jyn said, "Bree! Stop it!"

Bree couldn't. Her dream was to get a promotion, move up in the ranks, become a Chief Principal someday. It would all end if Jyn told Solomon the truth.

The glass gave way.

Jyn grabbed hold of the window frame and dangled over the city streets. Bree was buried somewhere inside the waterfall of office equipment.

*****E V*****

Jyn was on the stable building that the Berion building was leaned on. As the Impulse got closer, Jyn thought of what she would tell Solomon. She never lied to him before. But, for some reason, telling him everything that happened would have felt wrong. Bree was young and didn't deserve a shameful legacy.

Bree had aspirations, Jyn thought.

She wanted to be more, Jyn reasoned.

She was a hero, Jyn concluded.

Whatever Jyn would tell Solomon, Bree fought like a hero until the end.