Chapter 14: The Balancing Act

AZO Training grounds, Basel, Switzerland

The training grounds were unusually still for midday.

Sunlight filtered through the glass dome above the Geneva base, but the usual noise—sparring clatter, shouted commands, banter—faded into a quiet hum.

All eyes were on the girl in the center of the arena.

Luna.

She stood with her feet planted, palms open, a ripple of energy building at her fingertips. The air shimmered around her—soft pulses of blue SE (Spiritual Essence) spiralling outward like the ripple made of a stone thrown into a still lake.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, the ground cracked. A ten-meter stretch of reinforced training floor rose like a tide, perfectly arched, held aloft by invisible force.

The crowd gawked. Even the instructors exchanged uneasy glances.

“She’s bending it with so much precision.” Christian murmured from the observation deck. “How long has she been able to do that?”

“She’s ahead of schedule,” Miloslav replied, his voice low. “Way ahead.”

Christian turned. “You knew she’d be powerful. But this—?”

“She’s not just powerful. She’s awakened.”

Only Miloslav and the remaining members of the Ten knew the truth. Who Luna really was. Why her body resonated so naturally with SE.

And why no amount of training would ever make her one of them.

She wasn’t born to this world. Not exactly.

Across the arena, Ava watched the demonstration with arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her posture was calm, but her jaw was tense.

“She’s not even trying,” she muttered.

Keith, leaning beside her, tilted his head. “That’s kinda the point, isn’t it?”

Ava didn’t look at him. “I don’t trust her.”

Keith sighed. “You don’t trust anyone.”

A beat of silence passed before Ava answered. “She’s a Zodiac.”

Maya stepped forward, catching the edge of the tension. “She’s also a girl trying to help.”

“She’s one of them,” Ava snapped, her voice low but sharp.

 “The same kind that burned my city. Killed my family. I don’t care how ‘human’ she acts—they don’t change.”

Keith frowned. “You think she chose that? To be reborn here?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ava muttered, turning away. “I don’t need to like her. I just need to be ready when she breaks.”

Maya shared a look with Keith, concern clouding her gaze.

“Come on,” he finally said, nudging Ava’s shoulder

. “You’ve got training. And you’re already five minutes late.”

Ava rolled her shoulders and followed.

Training took place in a secondary hall—smaller, quieter.

 Keith stood in the center, arms folded, while Maya circled the edge like a hawk.

“Again,” Keith barked.

Ava launched forward, fists igniting with red energy. Her SE flared wildly—blazing heat without direction. She struck, pivoted, twisted mid-air, but Keith blocked every blow with disarming ease.

“You're too wild,” he muttered. “You’re not fighting an enemy. You’re fighting a ghost.”

“I am,” Ava snarled, lashing out again. “You just don’t see it.”

For an instant, she saw fire burning her house again. The sound of her father’s scream. The shadow of a Zodiac hand blotting out the sun. Rage swallowed her aim, and she struck harder.

Maya stepped in this time, catching Ava’s next strike with a glowing shield of light. “Breathe. Focus.”

“I am focused!”

“No,” Maya said gently. “You’re furious.”

Ava’s hands trembled. The energy around her flared, then cracked.

Keith exhaled slowly. “Look. You’re strong. Maybe stronger than any of the others once you get control. But if you keep burning like this, you’ll consume yourself before you ever reach her.”

Ava stepped back, panting, her expression guarded.

“I don’t care about being stronger than Luna,” she said flatly. “I just want to be ready for the day I need to stop her.”

Neither Maya nor Keith replied.

That night, Luna sat alone in her quarters.

The hum of the facility fell away in the silence. Her room was sparse—clean lines, no decoration. The only light came from a small desk lamp, where her fingers danced slowly above a journal, drawing idle shapes in the air.

She could feel the SE inside her—calm, flowing, responsive. She didn’t need to summon it anymore. It followed her breath, her heartbeat, her grief.

And her guilt.

Miloslav’s voice echoed in her head from earlier that day.

“Balance isn’t about suppressing what you are. It’s about accepting it.”

But how could she?

They didn’t know. The other recruits. Ava. Even the handlers.

They didn’t know that buried in her memories were skies split in half, cities falling under starlight fire, screams echoing into silence. They didn’t know what she’d once been.

Cancerian.

 One of the first to awaken.

They didn’t know she’d once stood on the other side of the veil, her own hands tearing the sky, her own voice commanding waters & cataclysms that devoured the children of history.

And yet—

her father’s face flickered in her mind.

The one tether she still couldn’t let go of. Was he alive? Did he still believe she was human, or would he see her now only as Cancer reborn? She pressed the journal shut, whispering into the dark,

“If you’re out there, Dad… would you even recognize me anymore?”

Silence answered her.

But still, she sat straighter.

She was the proof—that the enemy had once been human, too.

That she still was.

Elsewhere in England

Back at the Hunter’s training fields, a few late-night sessions continued.

Richard meditated in a quiet corner, breath slow, hands open to the sky. Jason sat beside him, watching his SE flicker faintly in a steady glow.

“Your discipline’s solid,” Jason said. “But you keep shutting out the pain. Don’t just avoid it, listen to it.”

Nearby, Jordan moved in a fluid rhythm, her body channelling light and movement with ease. Each step left a trail of golden shimmer, her SE manifesting in bursts of emotion.

“She’s brilliant,” Megumi said, watching from above. “But unstable.”

“They all are,” Mr.X murmured. “They’re children forced to carry a war.”

“Both of them are carrying something far beyond our reach.”