It’s the last dial on Auroris. Sagea wants to look her best for the occasion.

The new clothes they provided for her are styled with complex colors and patterns. In the mirror, she doesn’t see a neytive from the Aurist trybe. Her reflection reveals a neytive embracing the unknown. With her color changing clothes and hair tied together at the nape, she’s never been more ready.

There’s just one thing that Sagea can’t decide on.

She wants to make a good impression in front of the candidates when they reach Novennéa. The top two choices in mind are blue-violet and black-white. Blue-violet gives her a celestial look and appears best fitting for the Knyghts Voyage. Black-white gives off a more mature approach and may keep things sophisticated.

Sagea makes her decision at the same time there’s a knock on her door. “Aurist! Hurry up!”

She looks at the mirror for the last time, checking to see if her hair choice is alright.

As she walks to the door, she whispers a silent goodbye to her room. She won’t get this type of luxury during the Knyghts Voyage. No silk woven bed, no freshly made meal, no peace and quiet. Nothing.

The Psyke neytive steps to the side, waiting with impatience for her to join the others.

To her right, she sees the candidates in a single file line. They’re dressed in their new clothes with a few personal items. Sagea places herself last in line. After doing a quick head count, including herself, she finds herself not the last.

They’re missing one more.

Behind her, a door swings open and the missing candidate joins the group.

Sagea hasn’t seen much of the neytive around Auroris. She knows he’s from the Isle of Barrilygo. His short silver coated hair is slicked to the right side of his head and his eyes shine dark red. His complexion is paler compared to Jarl’s. Something swings behind him and he’s trying to hide it. Sagea looks carefully to see a huge mechanical tail connected to his spine. It’s colored like his hair and held together with wires.

The neytive catches Sagea staring at him.

“What are you looking at?” he whispers so that no other neytive hears but her. His glare forces her to face forward.

Now that all the candidates are present, the Psyke neytives escort them through the corridors of Auroris.

Sagea spots Jarl whenever they turn a corner. He’s near the front of the line, between a tall tanned neytive with blue hair and a neytive with half of her head shaved. She can hardly see it, but she thinks Jarl is smiling. He’s shown a much braver attitude during the past few dials. She wishes that level of excitement was shared with the others. Jarl is the most energetic neytive out of the candidates, and that’s coming from an energy neytive.

After walking for a while, the candidates arrive at a wide doorway sealed shut and marked restricted. Etched across the top is the name of the room, ‘Astral Hangar.’

The candidates remain in line, parallel to the entrance. One of the personnel places his three fingers on the panel, lighting up green.

The door rises into the ceiling.

Before them is no ordinary room, but a labyrinth. A maze full of crates, pipes, cranes and thousands of vessels. The crates vary in sizes, some can be held in one hand while others tower toward the ceiling. The pipes spit out of the walls and plunge back into the other side. Covering the entire left wall is another gate, similar to the doorway in front of them. The most distinguishing aspect of the room is the glow it omits, a crimson red color.

A small amount of dread sinks into Sagea. The hangar has more of an impact than her encounter with the Barrilygo neytive.

Once they step into the hangar, Sagea hears a neytive clearing their throat. Zaccur appears out of nowhere with a holocard in hand.

The candidates turn their attention to the Psyke preeminent, standing in silence and waiting for the Knyghts Voyage to officially begin.

“Congratulations for enduring fourteen dials on Auroris,” Zaccur’s sarcasm is still present, but it sounds mild. He looks more tired than the dial he introduced himself. He must have had more work to do during their journey. “Before you all depart, let me explain how your suits function in Novennéa’s environment.”

The candidates knew the suits and jackets are capable of adapting to their anatomies. Some of them have tails, wings, spikes, or extra appendages. Her suit is specially designed to change colors like her hair. Zaccur tells them how the suits and jackets are temperature controlled. They cool the body in scorching heat and heat up in the harshest of winds. He also adds that they will experience multiple regions on the planet.

Half of the candidates listen to Zaccur’s helpful suggestions, but some are eager to start the Knyghts Voyage. For Sagea, she’s in no rush. They’re all going to the same planet.

While Zaccur keeps talking, the Psyke neytives who escorted them to the Astral Hangar drift away from the group and disappear into the maze of crates. Something about the way they walked past them and sent glares to each other didn’t feel right to her.

Like they were hiding something.

Her thoughts jump to the sudden approach of Zaccur. He stands in front of her and offers to show her additional features in her jacket. She agrees.

This is their second time meeting and it feels even more awkward. Perhaps it’s the lack of clothing that’s still weighing on his mind. Sagea can see a subtle blushing appearing on his cheeks.

Zaccur coughs over his words. “When you get down there, be sure to use your vena wisely.”

That takes her by surprise. She forgot that other neytives have called it vena over the revolutions. She may have to start using it with the candidates.

Zaccur steps off to the side after speaking to them. “I trust you all remember what I said in the Celestial Chamber. How I personally feel about this. I am not sure how you all think of your preeminents, but I have my own to care for. The Chancellor has committed so much for this expedition. As the Psyke preeminent, I am obligated to follow her orders to the end. As a neytive, I am still holding onto hope.”

Sagea remembers how the Chancellor expressed her emotions back on Myalón. Zaccur has the same amount of compassion as his preeminent. He’s just better at hiding it.

“We have been monitoring your actions on Auroris. We expected most of you to be secretive or isolated, but one neytive stood out. I will not single them out, but I will say this. They have made an effort to accept the Knyghts Voyage and start over. They have shown something that I never would have expected from this group. In a way, it reminds me of how the Chancellor leads our trybe. This is a neytive that proved me wrong.”

Zaccur shifts his sight between the candidates, but he always looks back to Sagea. She knew he was talking about her. The Psyke preeminent is comparing Sagea to the Chancellor. She definitely chose the right hair colors.

“Now, let me show you how to operate the stratus vessels…” Zaccur gets ready to demonstrate, but a Psyke neytive enters the hangar and stands behind his preeminent.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but Zaccur notices. “Arsival, what are you doing here? This is not your post.”

The unwelcomed neytive looks past Zaccur to the candidates and lets out a small chuckle. The way he looks at the candidates makes half of them unnerved. Sagea gets a tugging feeling in her stomach. It’s worse than the feeling of the hangar and the Barrilygo neytive.

It’s fear.

In the corner of her eye, a crate rattles side to side and lifts up off the floor.

Zaccur moves closer to Arsival. He stands his ground and clenches his fists. “Get back to your post or…”

The crate moves at a fast speed and collides with Zaccur. It knocks him out of the hangar and into the corridors.

Sagea watches Zaccur’s body go limp and a streak of blood drips down his face.

The candidates turn their attention back to Arsival. Some step away while others take a fighting stance. She turns to Jarl, but he’s already gone. Most of the candidates disappear further into the hangar.

Sagea remains in place along with a few others.

Arsival walks to the panel near the door and presses his palm on the screen. The door comes down from the ceiling and shuts behind him. He raises his hands and several more crates levitate. The look on his face says everything, and he lets the candidates know it. “None of you are getting a second chance.”