THE ENTOURAGE

The Six Who Followed the Music

Vega always sat at the back of the classroom.

Not because she struggled to understand the lessons, and certainly not because she wanted to hide.

She sat there because the final row was the only place where nobody could stand behind her.

The classroom occupied the upper floor of the Concordia Academy, a vast silver structure built upon the bridge connecting District 199 with District 200. Through its transparent walls, the students could see the ocean moving beneath Arkadia and the distant towers rising from the artificial islands.

Oasis children sat beside genetically enhanced Sapiens Altus and a smaller number of ordinary Sapiens who had been admitted into the shared program.

On paper, they were equals.

In reality, everyone knew exactly what everyone else was.

The Altus wore confidence like a uniform. They had been designed before birth, freed from hereditary diseases and strengthened through carefully controlled genetic modification.

The Oasis had been found beneath the burning sky of an African desert, without parents, records, or any explanation for their existence.

The ordinary Sapiens occupied the space between them.

They had no modifications.

No impossible abilities.

No powerful families protecting their futures.

Vega belonged to that final group.

And she had never allowed anyone to make her feel inferior because of it.

She sat with her boots resting against the base of the desk, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder and a pair of heavy audio headphones covering her ears.

The music playing inside them was loud enough to make the edges of the world disappear.

At the front of the room, Professor Elara Sorel filled an entire projection wall with a mathematical problem involving gravitational displacement, oceanic pressure, and the structural stability of Arkadia’s submerged foundations.

The equation was so complex that several Altus students had stopped pretending to understand it.

Tom continued studying every variable.

Cass had begun drawing a miniature version of Professor Sorel fighting an octopus.

Max was watching Vega.

She had not looked at the projection once.

Professor Sorel noticed too.

The equation froze behind her.

“Vega.”

Vega continued listening to the music.

Several students turned towards the back of the classroom.

Professor Sorel raised her voice.

“Vega.”

Cala, seated beside her, gently touched her arm.

Vega opened one eye.

Cala pointed towards the front.

Vega removed one side of the headphones.

“Yes?”

Professor Sorel stared at her in disbelief.

“Would you care to explain what you are doing?”

“Listening to music.”

A few students laughed.

Professor Sorel did not.

“I can see that.”

“Then why did you ask?”

The laughter grew louder.

Jason Veyne leaned back in his chair, interested now.

Professor Sorel’s face hardened.

“You are sitting inside one of the most advanced educational institutions remaining on Earth. Around you are students who understand the privilege of being here, yet you behave as though this classroom were your private bedroom.”

Vega looked at the projection.

Then back at the professor.

“I can hear you.”

“With those ridiculous headphones covering your ears?”

“Unfortunately.”

Cass lowered his head to hide his smile.

Professor Sorel walked slowly between the desks.

“You are disrespectful, irresponsible, and apparently incapable of understanding when something exceeds your limited attention.”

Vega’s expression did not change.

The professor stopped beside the empty calculation platform.

“Come here.”

Vega remained seated.

Professor Sorel pointed towards the equation.

“Stand before your classmates and solve it.”

Several students exchanged nervous looks.

The equation was not part of their normal curriculum. It had been taken from a structural engineering examination designed for senior researchers.

Professor Sorel smiled coldly.

“Perhaps when your friends see how completely unprepared you are, you will finally understand how foolish you look.”

Kira turned towards Vega.

“You do not have to let her speak to you like that.”

Vega placed the headphones back over both ears.

Then she stood.

She walked towards the front of the classroom with the music still playing.

Professor Sorel stepped aside.

Vega studied the equation for less than five seconds.

She selected the first variable and moved it.

Then another.

Her fingers travelled across the projection with calm precision.

She removed two unnecessary calculations, corrected the pressure coefficient, replaced a corrupted gravity constant, and reorganised the entire equation around an approach none of the students had been taught.

Tom leaned forward.

The method was not simply correct.

It was better.

Professor Sorel watched the solution assemble itself across the wall.

Vega completed the final calculation.

A green confirmation illuminated the room.

STRUCTURAL MODEL STABLE

EFFICIENCY IMPROVEMENT, 18.7 PER CENT

Nobody laughed now.

Vega turned towards the professor.

Professor Sorel opened her mouth.

No words came out.

Vega removed one side of her headphones again.

“Can I put these back on?”

The professor stared at her.

“Excuse me?”

“Your voice is very sharp.”

A stunned silence filled the classroom.

Vega continued.

“The music makes it less painful.”

She placed the headphones over her ear, returned to the final row, and sat beside Cala as though nothing had happened.

Cass finally lost control and laughed.

Max covered his mouth.

Even Tom allowed himself the smallest smile.

Professor Sorel looked towards the observation window at the rear of the classroom.

Behind the darkened glass stood Fernand Claes.

He did not smile.

But his eyes were bright with interest.

That was the first time Tom, Cass, and Max truly noticed Vega.

It was not the first time Fernand had noticed all six of them.

The Concordia Assignment

Fernand waited for them after the lesson.

Tom, Cass, and Max had already learned to become suspicious whenever Fernand appeared without warning.

He was the creator of the Oasis Program, the man responsible for the three disciplines that shaped every part of their lives.

Mentis, the development of the mind.

Corpus, the mastery of the body.

Concordia, the ability to understand others and live among human society.

To the authorities of Supra, Fernand was the architect of the most advanced educational program ever created.

To the children of District 199, he was something more difficult to define.

He was the man who argued with instructors when the training became excessive.

The man who remembered every birthday, even though none of the Oasis knew the true date of their birth.

The man who sat beside hospital beds after physical evaluations and spoke about anything except the results.

The man who treated them as children when the rest of Arkadia could not decide whether they were miracles, experiments, or potential weapons.

Tom, Cass, and Max found him standing in the central corridor with Vega, Cala, and Kira.

Vega still wore her headphones around her neck.

Cala smiled politely.

Kira looked openly curious.

Fernand brought his hands together.

“Good. You are all here.”

Cass glanced at the girls.

“Are we in trouble?”

“You ask that every time I request a meeting.”

“And you never answer quickly enough.”

Fernand looked at Vega.

“Professor Sorel has submitted a formal complaint.”

Vega folded her arms.

“Did she include the part where her equation was wrong?”

“She included several other parts.”

“Then it must be a long complaint.”

Fernand almost smiled.

Almost.

“The six of you have been selected for a new Concordia assignment.”

Tom’s expression became guarded.

“What kind of assignment?”

“One without examinations.”

Cass looked offended.

“Then how will they tell us we are disappointing?”

“No performance scores.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“No observers?”

“No visible observers.”

“That was not the same answer.”

Fernand began walking.

They followed him through the academy.

“You have all demonstrated exceptional results within your respective programs,” he explained. “You have also demonstrated certain difficulties.”

Vega looked at him.

“What difficulties?”

Fernand glanced at the headphones around her neck.

“Communication.”

Cass pointed towards himself.

“I communicate constantly.”

“Yes. That is one of your difficulties.”

Kira laughed.

It was the first sound that passed naturally between the two groups.

Fernand led them away from the main academic wing and towards an older section of the academy. The corridors became narrower. The walls no longer displayed rankings, schedules, or health data.

They stopped before a circular door.

Fernand placed his hand against the scanner.

The door opened.

Inside waited a large music studio.

A transparent piano stood near the centre. Percussion systems occupied one side of the room. Guitars, violins, cellos, bass instruments, synthesisers, and unfamiliar instruments from cultures across Earth covered the walls.

Max stepped inside first.

“What is the assignment?”

Fernand remained beside the door.

“Create something.”

Tom looked around the room.

“Create what?”

“That is for you to decide.”

“How will it be evaluated?”

“It will not.”

Tom clearly disliked that answer.

Fernand continued.

“You have spent years learning how to solve problems defined by other people. I want to discover what happens when nobody tells you what the problem is.”

Vega walked towards a black bass guitar resting against the wall.

“And if we create nothing?”

“Then you will have spent time together without anyone measuring you.”

Cass looked at the ceiling.

“There are cameras.”

“There are cameras everywhere in Arkadia.”

“That does not make it less disturbing.”

Fernand turned to leave.

Kira called after him.

“How long do we have?”

Fernand looked back at them.

“Until you stop asking.”

The door closed.

The six remained inside the studio.

Nobody moved.

Cass looked at the girls.

The girls looked at the boys.

Max finally smiled.

“Well, this is uncomfortable.”

Vega lifted the bass guitar and inspected it.

“You speak when you are nervous.”

“I also speak when I am comfortable.”

“Do you ever stop?”

“During sleep, according to unreliable witnesses.”

Cala walked towards the synthesiser.

“You are Max.”

He placed a hand against his chest.

“My reputation arrived before me.”

“Your disciplinary reports did.”

Cass laughed.

Max pointed at him.

“This is Cass. He is the reason half of those reports exist.”

“And the serious one is Tom,” Kira said.

Tom looked at her.

“How do you know?”

“You have not smiled once.”

“I smiled during class.”

Max shook his head.

“No. Your mouth moved slightly. That is not the same thing.”

Vega connected the bass to an amplifier.

A low note filled the room.

Tom turned towards her.

“That string is out of tune.”

Vega looked at him.

“I know.”

She adjusted it.

Tom walked towards the piano.

Cass approached the percussion system.

Max selected a guitar.

Cala activated the synthesiser and began exploring the sound library.

Kira picked up a violin.

Max watched her.

“Can you play that?”

Kira placed it beneath her chin.

“No.”

She drew the bow across the strings.

The sound was terrible.

Cass covered his ears.

Kira laughed.

“But I can learn.”

That was how it began.

Not with destiny.

Not with prophecy.

Not with the fate of Tzion.

It began with six children inside a forgotten music room, making an almost unbearable amount of noise.

The First Song

Tom understood structure.

Within minutes, he had identified the capabilities of every instrument and suggested a basic sequence.

Vega rejected it immediately.

“It sounds like a training exercise.”

“It is technically correct.”

“That is the problem.”

Cass created a rhythm with his fingers against the edge of the percussion platform.

Max joined him with a simple guitar chord.

Vega found a bass line beneath it.

Cala introduced a soft synthesised note that changed the atmosphere of the entire room.

Kira attempted the violin again.

The sound improved.

Slightly.

Tom listened.

Then he placed his hands on the piano.

The first notes he played were careful and controlled.

Vega shook her head.

“You are thinking too much.”

“I am playing.”

“No. You are solving.”

Tom stopped.

“What is the difference?”

“Music does not always need the correct answer.”

That irritated him.

It also stayed with him.

They started again.

Cass maintained the rhythm.

Max played around it.

Vega pushed against it.

Cala created space between the notes.

Kira followed the melody by instinct.

Tom closed his eyes.

For the first time, he stopped calculating what should come next.

He listened.

Then he played.

The sound that emerged was imperfect, uncertain, and alive.

Vega looked towards him.

Tom opened his eyes.

She gave him a small nod.

They continued until the lights outside the studio windows changed from afternoon gold to the deep blue of Arkadia’s artificial night.

They had created less than two minutes of music.

None of them wanted to leave.

From that day onward, they returned whenever the program allowed it.

Sometimes they played.

Sometimes they argued.

Sometimes they sat on the floor, surrounded by cables and instruments, speaking about things they could not discuss anywhere else.

Tom admitted that he hated not knowing where the Oasis came from.

Cass admitted that he sometimes feared his own strength.

Max confessed that he remembered every expression people made when they believed he was not looking.

Vega spoke about how ordinary Sapiens were treated inside the academy, praised when they succeeded, pitied when they failed, and constantly compared with children who had been altered or born different.

Cala admitted that she worried so much about everyone else that she sometimes forgot what she wanted.

Kira confessed that her optimism was not effortless.

She chose it every morning.

Their friendship did not form in a single moment.

It formed in hundreds of small ones.

Cass saving a seat for Cala during history lectures.

Kira waiting outside the medical wing after one of Tom’s neurological evaluations.

Vega sharing one side of her headphones with Max while pretending his taste in music was terrible.

Tom repairing a damaged synthesis module because Cala had mentioned she liked its sound.

Max teaching Kira three guitar chords.

Cala cleaning Cass’s bruised knuckles after he struck a training wall instead of Jason Veyne.

Vega standing beside Tom in silence when he had no words for what he was feeling.

They grew together.

Childhood softened into adolescence.

Their uniforms changed.

Their training became harder.

Their responsibilities increased.

The world beyond Arkadia continued collapsing.

Inside the archipelago, the six created a world of their own.

The Séquito of Music

The name came years later.

They had been invited to perform during a small cultural evening in District 199. It was not an important event. There were no representatives of Supra, no cameras from District 200, and no official evaluations.

Only students, instructors, maintenance workers, and caregivers.

The six waited behind a temporary stage.

Max checked his guitar.

Cass rotated a drumstick between his fingers.

Tom reviewed the sequence for the fifth time.

Cala tested her synthesiser.

Kira adjusted the microphone beside her violin.

Vega leaned against the wall with her bass hanging from one shoulder.

An organiser appeared beside them.

“I need the name of the group.”

They looked at one another.

“We do not have one,” Cala said.

“You are performing in three minutes.”

Max considered it.

“The Six?”

Vega looked disgusted.

Cass raised a hand.

“Cass and the Other Five.”

“No,” everyone said.

Kira smiled.

“What are we?”

Tom answered literally.

“Six students participating in a musical performance.”

Vega shook her head.

“We follow the music.”

Max looked at her.

“What?”

“When everything else becomes unbearable, we follow the music. It brings us here.”

Cala glanced at the others.

“Like its entourage.”

The word remained between them.

An entourage.

A group gathered around something greater than any individual member.

Not followers of a king.

Not servants of a leader.

The séquito of music itself.

Max smiled.

“The Entourage.”

The organiser wrote it down.

“Good. You are on.”

They walked onto the stage carrying a name none of them knew would one day travel beyond Earth.

The performance was not perfect.

Cass entered half a measure too early.

Max forgot part of the second verse.

Kira laughed in the middle of a vocal line.

Vega improvised rather than helping them recover.

Tom changed the structure to follow her.

Cala held everything together.

The audience stood at the end.

For the six of them, the applause mattered less than the moment just before the final note disappeared.

That instant when they looked at one another and understood that none of them was alone.

Music became their refuge.

Then their ritual.

Then their family.

They rehearsed after Mentis examinations and before Corpus evaluations.

They played when one of them was hurt.

They played when Jason and the Altus made District 200 feel unbearable.

They played when the Oasis boys received another medical report filled with answers that explained nothing.

They played whenever the pressure of becoming the future of humanity threatened to crush the teenagers they still were.

The instruments did not care whether they were Oasis, Altus, or ordinary Sapiens.

A note was either honest or it was not.

A rhythm either held them together or allowed them to fall apart.

Music gave them something Arkadia had never managed to provide.

A place where difference did not require an explanation.

The Children of Two Districts

The tensions between District 199 and District 200 intensified as they grew older.

The Oasis continued surpassing every predicted developmental limit.

The Altus continued being told that they represented humanity perfected through science.

Both groups had been raised beneath the weight of expectation.

Only one had chosen that rivalry.

Jason Veyne had never forgiven Tom for defeating him in fencing.

He had never forgiven Cass for scoring the winning goal against his team.

He had never forgiven Max for turning his insults into jokes.

Most of all, he hated that three ordinary Sapiens had chosen the Oasis boys over the Altus.

He treated Kira’s kindness as weakness.

He mocked Cala’s attempts to mediate conflict.

He considered Vega’s refusal to fear him a personal insult.

One afternoon, during an athletics evaluation, Jason’s group altered the resistance setting on Cass’s running lane.

The track increased its gravitational pull during the final section of the race.

Cass’s body became suddenly heavier.

His foot struck the moving surface incorrectly.

He fell.

The skin along his forearm tore against the track.

The other runners continued.

Vega stopped immediately.

She abandoned her lane and ran towards him.

Cala called for the medical system.

Kira knelt beside Cass.

Tom examined the control panel.

Max looked towards Jason.

Jason crossed the finish line first.

He lifted both arms while the Altus students applauded.

Max walked towards him.

“You changed the lane.”

Jason breathed heavily but smiled.

“Can you prove it?”

Tom joined them.

“The resistance increased by forty one per cent.”

“Perhaps the Oasis finally encountered something difficult.”

Cass rose behind them.

Blood covered his arm.

The track sensors detected the increase in his heart rate.

Vega stepped in front of him.

“Do not.”

Cass’s voice was low.

“He could have broken my leg.”

“I know.”

“Move.”

“No.”

Jason continued smiling.

“That is right. Control your experiment.”

Vega turned towards him.

Jason’s smile weakened.

She approached until only a small space remained between them.

“I am not stopping him for you.”

Jason said nothing.

“I am stopping him because you are not worth what it would cost him.”

The race was investigated.

The system log had been erased.

Jason received no punishment.

Antonio Reis received the full report.

From his office inside the Axis Tower, the High Warden watched the recording of the incident.

Fernand stood opposite him.

“This cannot continue,” Fernand said.

Antonio Reis paused the image at the moment Vega placed herself between Cass and Jason.

“On the contrary.”

Fernand’s eyes narrowed.

Reis enlarged the image.

“The Oasis boy demonstrated restraint. The Sapiens girl demonstrated authority. The group protected its own without escalating the incident.”

“They were sabotaged.”

“And they adapted.”

“They are not a social experiment.”

“Everything in Arkadia is a social experiment, Doctor Claes.”

Fernand stepped closer to the desk.

“They are becoming a family.”

Antonio Reis studied the six teenagers frozen inside the projection.

“That may prove useful.”

Fernand disliked the way he said it.

To Fernand, their bond was something precious.

To Reis, it was another result.

Another system to observe.

Another variable that might determine whether the future belonged to the Oasis, the Altus, or something that had not yet been named.

The Present

Years later, the music still waited for them.

But that morning, Tom, Cass, and Max were in no condition to play it.

They left the combat centre after defeating the three artificial intelligence boxing droids with bruised ribs, split lips, exhausted muscles, and the unmistakable satisfaction of having survived something Jamal had clearly designed to hurt them.

Cass pressed a cold medical patch against his jaw.

“Corpus, ninety four.”

Max walked beside him.

“You sound disappointed.”

“I was punched through the air by a machine.”

“You landed very gracefully.”

“I bounced.”

Tom adjusted the support around his wrist.

“Twice.”

Cass looked at him.

“You are both terrible friends.”

Max checked the time displayed across the nearest tower.

“The girls should still be training.”

Cass smiled.

“Let us go and watch Vega terrify someone.”

They crossed the suspended bridge towards the eastern dojo.

Morning light spread across Arkadia. The ocean below reflected the towers in broken lines of silver and gold.

The dojo occupied the upper level of a circular building surrounded by gardens. Its walls could become transparent during public exhibitions, but that morning they remained covered in pale wooden panels.

Tom, Cass, and Max entered through the observation gallery above the main tatami.

Kira saw them first.

She waved.

Cala smiled.

Vega glanced upward, noticed the bruises on their faces, and shook her head.

Max pointed towards Cass as though everything had been his fault.

Cass pushed him.

At the centre of the tatami stood Sensei Akari Ren.

She was an ordinary Sapiens woman in her early fifties, without genetic enhancements or technological implants.

She was also one of the most dangerous martial artists in Arkadia.

Akari had trained military officers, security specialists, and competitive fighters across three continents before joining the Oasis Program.

Fernand had selected her because she understood something many enhanced trainers did not.

Power altered technique.

Fear altered judgement.

Only discipline remained reliable.

Akari faced the three girls.

“You believe you are ready for your black belt evaluation.”

Vega stood in the centre.

“We are.”

Akari looked towards Kira.

“You agree?”

Kira nodded.

“We have trained every morning.”

“And every afternoon,” Cala added.

Akari adjusted the sleeves of her gi.

“Then show me.”

The girls looked around the dojo.

No additional opponents entered.

Vega understood first.

“All three of us?”

Akari lowered herself into a fighting stance.

“Against me.”

From the gallery, Cass leaned towards Max.

“This is going to be painful.”

“For whom?”

“Yes.”

Three Against the Sensei

The girls spread across the tatami.

Vega moved to the front.

Kira took the right.

Cala moved left.

Akari remained perfectly still.

“Begin.”

Vega attacked first.

Her leading foot crossed the tatami without sound. She delivered a fast straight punch towards Akari’s chest.

Akari redirected it with one palm.

Vega followed with a second strike.

Akari turned her shoulder.

The punch passed beside her.

Kira attacked from the right with a controlled roundhouse kick.

Akari ducked beneath it.

Cala moved behind her.

For an instant, the Sensei stood between all three.

Then Akari moved.

She caught Cala’s wrist, shifted her balance, and sent her rolling across the tatami without using visible force.

Vega attacked again.

Akari blocked high.

Vega changed level and swept towards her supporting leg.

Akari jumped over it.

Kira stepped forward to meet her landing.

Her fist stopped a fraction from Akari’s ribs.

Akari twisted in the air, landed outside the strike, and touched two fingers against Kira’s forehead.

“Too slow.”

Kira stared at her.

“I nearly had you.”

“Nearly is where opponents live after you fail.”

Cass whispered from the gallery.

“I like her.”

Tom watched the patterns forming below.

Akari was not simply defending.

She was separating the girls.

Every movement forced one of them into the path of another.

Every counterattack disrupted their formation.

Cala rose.

“Stop chasing her.”

Vega looked towards her.

Cala continued moving.

“She wants us to attack independently.”

Akari smiled.

“Then stop explaining and adapt.”

Kira advanced, but this time she did not strike.

She forced Akari to move towards Vega.

Vega attacked from the side.

Akari blocked.

Cala entered behind the block and touched Akari’s shoulder.

The contact lasted less than a second.

But it was contact.

The boys reacted from the gallery.

Cass raised both fists.

“Yes!”

Akari turned towards Cala.

“Better.”

Then she swept Cala’s legs from beneath her.

Cala landed flat on her back.

Akari attacked Vega.

Her palm stopped beside Vega’s throat.

Vega froze.

“Dead.”

Kira attempted to strike from behind.

Akari caught her arm.

“Also dead.”

She rotated and sent Kira rolling beside Cala.

Vega remained standing alone.

Akari faced her.

“Your friends are gone.”

Vega raised her guard.

“No.”

Cala and Kira rose behind the Sensei.

“They are not.”

The second phase began faster.

Kira created movement.

Cala read the space.

Vega attacked the openings.

Akari blocked a punch from Kira and found Vega already waiting beside her.

Vega’s fist touched Akari’s ribs.

Akari turned, but Cala redirected her next movement.

Kira delivered a controlled kick towards her shoulder.

Akari raised an arm.

Vega attacked below the guard.

For the first time, Akari retreated.

Max leaned against the railing.

“They are pushing her.”

Tom watched Akari’s feet.

“She is allowing them to.”

“No,” Cass said. “Look at her breathing.”

A thin line of sweat moved along the Sensei’s temple.

Akari attacked.

Her movements became sharper.

She struck towards Vega.

Vega blocked.

The impact travelled through both arms.

Akari turned towards Kira.

Kira avoided the first strike but received the second against her shoulder.

Cala entered.

Akari drove her backwards with a sequence of rapid punches.

Cala defended each one, reading the rhythm and surrendering ground without losing balance.

Vega moved behind Akari.

Akari sensed her.

She turned.

Vega had already changed direction.

Kira attacked from the opposite side.

Akari blocked her kick.

Cala lowered herself and swept the Sensei’s leg.

Akari lost balance.

Only for an instant.

Vega stepped forward.

Her fist stopped one centimetre from Akari’s chest.

Silence filled the dojo.

The Sensei looked down at Vega’s hand.

Then at the other two girls.

Akari stepped backwards.

“Enough.”

The girls remained in position, breathing hard.

Vega lowered her fist.

Akari looked towards the observation gallery.

“You may come down.”

Tom, Cass, and Max exchanged glances.

They descended to the tatami.

Cass bowed to the Sensei.

“We were only observing.”

“You were analysing.”

Tom looked at Akari.

“You changed your rhythm during the final sequence.”

“Correct.”

“To break Cala’s reading.”

“Correct.”

Max pointed towards Vega.

“But she still reached you.”

Akari turned towards the six teenagers.

“Yes.”

She walked to the centre of the tatami.

“That is why your next evaluation will not take place here.”

Vega frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Akari touched the control panel at her wrist.

The dojo walls became transparent.

Across the city, enormous screens awakened.

A new symbol appeared above Arkadia.

Two circles, one representing District 199, the other representing District 200, joined at the centre by the emblem of Concordia.

Akari faced them.

“In three weeks, Arkadia will host the first Convergence Karate Championship.”

Cass’s eyes widened.

“A tournament?”

“Open to Oasis, Altus, and selected Sapiens students from every shared academy.”

Max smiled.

“This is going to become extremely unpleasant.”

Akari looked directly at him.

“You are also participating.”

His smile vanished.

“We came to support the girls.”

“You have trained in karate since childhood.”

“I prefer boxing.”

“Your preference is irrelevant.”

Cass laughed.

Akari turned towards him.

“You too.”

Cass stopped laughing.

Tom already knew.

“All six of us.”

Akari nodded.

“All six.”

Vega looked towards the symbol floating above the city.

“When does registration begin?”

“It already has.”

Jason Veyne’s name appeared at the top of the competitors list.

Beneath it came the names of Rafe Calder, Silas Morn, and several of the most accomplished Altus fighters in District 200.

The air inside the dojo changed.

The tournament would not be an ordinary sporting event.

It would be another battlefield in the rivalry between two visions of humanity.

And the whole of Arkadia would be watching.

The Convergence

For three weeks, the six trained together.

Akari corrected their technique.

Jamal developed their endurance.

Fernand monitored their recovery and repeatedly reminded the instructors that the students required sleep.

Nobody listened to him.

They trained before sunrise.

They attended Mentis lessons during the day.

They rehearsed music in the evenings.

Sometimes their instruments became part of the training.

Cass maintained striking rhythms on the drums while Vega moved through combinations.

Tom used the piano to change tempo without warning.

Kira learned to control her breathing through vocal exercises.

Cala created sequences on the synthesiser that forced them to move between calm and intensity.

Max played distorted guitar chords whenever someone lost focus.

Akari entered the studio one evening and found all six practising defensive movements in time with the music.

She watched them for several minutes.

“This is not traditional karate.”

Vega continued moving.

“Neither are we.”

Akari considered that.

Then she removed her shoes and joined them.

The championship took place inside the Meridian Arena, a vast circular structure suspended between Districts 199 and 200.

Thousands of spectators filled the ascending levels.

The Altus occupied the eastern side.

The Oasis students gathered in the west.

Ordinary Sapiens filled the remaining sections, though many had already chosen which group they wanted to support.

At the highest point of the arena sat Antonio Reis.

Fernand stood beside him.

The High Warden watched the competitors enter.

“This is what Concordia was intended to produce,” Reis said.

Fernand looked down at the adolescents walking onto the tatami.

“Concordia was intended to help them understand one another.”

“Competition reveals understanding.”

“Competition reveals character.”

Antonio Reis smiled faintly.

“That too.”

The six members of The Entourage entered together.

Tom appeared calm.

Cass looked excited.

Max waved towards the audience.

Kira smiled despite her nerves.

Cala studied the competition area.

Vega stared only at the tatami.

Jason Veyne entered from the opposite side with the Altus team.

His eyes found them immediately.

He smiled.

The opening rounds began.

Kira fought first.

Her opponent was an Altus named Nara Quell, a fast and aggressive fighter who attacked from the opening signal.

Kira retreated beneath the pressure.

Nara scored the first point.

Then the second.

The Altus spectators cheered.

Kira returned to the starting line.

From outside the boundary, Cala looked at her.

“Breathe.”

Kira nodded.

The third exchange began.

Nara attacked with the same speed.

This time, Kira did not retreat.

She redirected the first strike, stepped outside the second, and used Nara’s momentum to guide her beyond the boundary.

Point.

Nara attacked again.

Kira read the distance.

Another point.

The final exchange lasted twelve seconds.

Nara attempted a spinning technique designed to end the match dramatically.

Kira remained calm.

She stepped inside the rotation and placed a controlled strike against Nara’s centre.

The signal sounded.

Victory, Kira.

She bowed to her opponent.

Then ran towards the others with an enormous smile.

Cass lifted her from the ground.

“You did it!”

“Put me down before they remove the point.”

Cala fought next.

Her opponent was an Oasis boy named Elior, one of District 199’s strongest technical competitors.

The match became a conversation conducted through movement.

Cala anticipated him.

Elior adapted.

Cala changed rhythm.

Elior changed distance.

Neither became aggressive.

Neither attempted to humiliate the other.

Elior won by a single point during the final seconds.

Cala bowed.

He bowed deeper.

The crowd applauded both of them.

Vega met Cala outside the tatami.

“You should have won.”

Cala smiled.

“But I did not.”

“You are too calm about that.”

“One of us needs to be.”

Cass defeated his first opponent through controlled power.

Tom won through precision.

Max won by making his Altus rival attack empty space until frustration destroyed his technique.

Vega entered last.

Her first opponent attempted to intimidate her before the match.

Vega scored three points without allowing her to complete a single attack.

The arena began learning her name.

Round after round, the field narrowed.

Kira was eliminated in the quarterfinals after an exhausting match.

Cass lost to Silas Morn when a previous rib injury limited his movement.

Tom faced Jason.

The entire arena seemed to become quieter.

Jason bowed with perfect form.

Tom did the same.

The match began.

Jason attacked first.

Tom blocked and answered.

Point, Tom.

Jason smiled.

The second exchange was longer.

Jason changed angles, forcing Tom towards the boundary.

Tom escaped and scored again.

Two points.

The Altus section fell silent.

Jason returned to the centre.

As they passed one another, he whispered.

“Still pretending they are your family?”

Tom looked at him.

Jason continued.

“They will grow older. They will realise what you are. Everyone does.”

The signal sounded.

Jason attacked.

Tom’s focus shifted for the smallest fraction of a second.

Jason struck.

Point.

The next exchange began.

Jason stepped deliberately onto Tom’s foot while blocking the referee’s view.

Tom lost balance.

Jason scored again.

Two points each.

Vega stood outside the tatami.

“He is cheating.”

Akari watched without moving.

“Then Tom must adapt.”

The final exchange began.

Tom controlled the centre.

Jason retreated.

Tom followed.

Jason attacked high, then drove his shoulder into Tom’s injured wrist while disguising the movement inside a block.

Pain travelled through Tom’s arm.

His guard opened.

Jason scored.

The match ended.

Jason raised his fists.

The Altus section erupted.

Tom bowed and left the tatami.

Max met him outside.

“He stepped on your foot.”

Tom nodded.

Cass looked towards the officials.

“We should challenge it.”

“No,” Tom said.

Vega approached.

Tom looked at her.

“He turns his right shoulder before he cheats.”

Vega said nothing.

Tom continued.

“He needs to hide the movement from the central judge. Watch the shoulder.”

Jason heard him.

Their eyes met across the arena.

The tournament continued.

Max defeated Rafe Calder but lost to Jason during the semifinal after a relentless match.

Jason repeatedly insulted him, attempting to break his concentration.

Max continued smiling until the final point.

When he left the tatami, the smile disappeared.

“He is fast,” Max told Vega.

“So am I.”

“He will try to make you angry.”

Vega tied her hair behind her head.

“He always does.”

The other semifinal placed Vega against Mara Sol, the highest ranked Altus fighter in the academy.

Mara possessed enhanced reflexes and extraordinary flexibility.

She scored first.

Vega scored second.

Mara attacked with combinations designed to overwhelm the senses.

Vega remained inside them.

Every block became a position.

Every step created an angle.

The final point came when Mara attempted a high kick.

Vega moved beneath it and placed a controlled strike against her body before her supporting foot returned to the floor.

Victory, Vega.

The final was decided.

Vega against Jason Veyne.

District 199 against District 200.

An ordinary Sapiens against one of the finest Altus of his generation.

Vega

The final tatami rose into the centre of the arena.

The surrounding lights dimmed.

Antonio Reis leaned forward.

Fernand did not look at the competition platform.

He looked at the six friends.

Tom stood with his injured wrist supported against his body.

Cass held one hand against his ribs.

Max’s cheek had begun to swell.

Kira and Cala stood beside them.

All five watched Vega.

She removed her headphones.

She always wore them before important moments, even when no music was playing.

Cala took them from her.

“You know what he wants.”

Vega nodded.

“To make me angry.”

Kira touched her shoulder.

“Then do not give him anything.”

Max smiled.

“Except perhaps a memorable defeat.”

Tom looked directly at her.

“His right shoulder.”

Cass extended his fist.

Vega touched it with her own.

Then Tom’s.

Max’s.

Kira’s.

Cala’s.

Six fists together.

No speech.

They did not need one.

Vega entered the arena.

Jason waited for her.

He bowed.

She bowed.

The signal sounded.

Jason attacked immediately.

His first strike was fast enough to surprise most opponents.

Vega blocked it.

He followed with a second.

She moved aside.

A third came towards her body.

She redirected it.

Jason retreated.

“No points for surviving,” he said.

Vega remained silent.

The next exchange began.

Jason feinted left and attacked right.

Vega read the movement too late.

His fist touched her shoulder.

Point, Jason.

The Altus section roared.

Jason returned to the centre.

“I expected more.”

Vega adjusted her stance.

They began again.

Jason attacked with confidence.

Vega allowed him to advance.

One step.

Two.

Three.

He attempted the same combination.

Vega changed the distance.

His first strike missed.

She blocked the second.

Her counterattack touched his chest.

Point, Vega.

The District 199 spectators rose.

Jason’s expression changed.

The third exchange became faster.

Jason attacked.

Vega answered.

Their strikes met in the centre.

Both moved away.

No point.

Again.

Jason attempted to circle.

Vega followed.

He changed rhythm.

She changed with him.

For several seconds, neither found an opening.

Jason whispered as they passed.

“You really believe they see you as one of them?”

Vega stopped.

Jason smiled.

“You are not Oasis. You are not Altus. You are an ordinary girl standing between species that will leave you behind.”

Vega looked towards her friends.

Tom, Cass, and Max watched her without doubt.

Kira and Cala stood beside them.

Vega returned her eyes to Jason.

“That is your problem.”

Jason frowned.

“You believe standing above people means you never have to stand beside them.”

The signal sounded.

Jason attacked with anger.

Vega was ready.

She avoided the first strike and scored against his ribs.

Point, Vega.

Two to one.

One more point would end the match.

Jason returned to the centre.

The confidence had disappeared from his face.

The final exchange began.

He moved carefully now.

Vega waited.

The entire arena seemed to hold its breath.

Jason feinted.

Vega did not react.

He moved left.

She maintained the centre.

Then she saw it.

His right shoulder turned.

The same movement Tom had warned her about.

Jason stepped forward and attempted to trap her foot while hiding the motion from the judge.

Vega lifted her leg before his foot landed.

Jason’s balance shifted.

For the first time, surprise appeared in his eyes.

Vega could have struck him immediately.

She waited.

Jason attempted to recover.

She moved with him.

He attacked desperately.

Vega blocked.

Jason turned again.

Vega entered the opening.

Her fist travelled towards his face.

She stopped it one breath from his skin.

Jason froze.

The sensors registered the controlled strike.

The arena illuminated green.

POINT

VICTORY, VEGA

Silence lasted less than a second.

Then District 199 exploded.

The sound struck the arena like a physical force.

Kira screamed.

Cass lifted Max from the floor.

Max complained loudly.

Cala covered her mouth, laughing and crying at the same time.

Tom closed his eyes and released the breath he had been holding.

Vega remained before Jason.

Her fist was still suspended beside his face.

She lowered it.

Jason stared at her.

She bowed.

For several seconds, he did not move.

Then, beneath the eyes of Arkadia, Jason bowed in return.

Vega turned towards her friends.

The control she had maintained throughout the fight finally disappeared.

She smiled.

Not the small, guarded smile she gave when she did not want anyone to know she was happy.

A real smile.

She ran towards them.

The five met her at the edge of the tatami.

Cass wrapped both arms around her.

“My ribs,” Max shouted as everyone collided.

“You are not the injured one,” Cass replied.

“We are all injured.”

Kira held Vega’s face between her hands.

“You won.”

“We won,” Vega said.

Cala handed her the headphones.

Vega looked at them.

Then at the arena.

“Not yet.”

The Final Note

That evening, the Meridian Arena changed.

The tatami descended.

A stage rose in its place.

Most of the spectators remained, curious about the performance announced at the end of the championship.

Antonio Reis watched from above.

Fernand stood beside the stage.

The six entered carrying their instruments.

Tom sat before the piano.

Cass took his place behind the percussion system, despite the support wrapped around his ribs.

Max connected his guitar.

Vega lifted her bass.

Cala stood behind the synthesiser.

Kira raised her violin and approached the central microphone.

The lights faded.

For a moment, the arena contained no Altus section, no Oasis section, no District 199 or District 200.

Only silence.

Tom played the first note.

Cass entered beneath it.

Vega created the pulse.

Max added the guitar.

Cala opened the sound into something vast.

Kira’s violin rose above them.

Then she began to sing.

The music moved through the arena.

It carried every classroom they had survived.

Every examination.

Every bruise.

Every argument.

Every morning when training began before sunrise.

Every afternoon when someone reminded them they were different.

Every night when they returned to the studio and remembered they belonged somewhere.

The audience did not know the meaning of the song.

The six did.

It was about being found.

Not in a desert.

Not by scientists.

Not by Supra.

By one another.

Fernand watched them with tears in his eyes.

He had designed Mentis to cultivate their minds.

Corpus to develop their bodies.

Concordia to help them enter human society.

But this had not come from any branch of the Oasis Program.

No instructor had taught it.

No researcher had predicted it.

They had created it themselves.

Antonio Reis observed from the darkness of the upper gallery.

“Remarkable,” he said.

Fernand looked towards him.

“They are not a result.”

Reis continued watching the stage.

“No?”

“They are a family.”

Below them, the song reached its final movement.

Tom looked towards Vega.

Vega looked towards Cass.

Cass smiled at Cala.

Cala turned towards Kira.

Kira looked at Max.

Max looked at all of them.

Six young people.

Three Oasis.

Three Sapiens.

One sound.

The final note travelled through the Meridian Arena and out across the waters of Arkadia.

For years, the city had attempted to define them.

Experiments.

Students.

Competitors.

The future.

The next stage of humanity.

But when the music ended and the six stood together beneath the lights, only one name remained.

The Entourage.