The forest had gone quiet in that peculiar way it only ever did when people forced their way through it.

  Branches snapped underfoot. Leaves were crushed into the damp soil. And layered over everything was the sound of laboured breathing.

  Not from the squad.

  From the recruits.

  They trudged along the narrow path behind Solara, sweat-soaked, shoulders slumped, lungs burning. The lieutenant herself, meanwhile, moved as if the forest were a pleasant afternoon stroll rather than a forced march.

  “Why… why… did… we… need… to… run… this… far…” Jett groaned, every word dragged out between gasps.

  He was currently draped over Corwin’s back like an oversized backpack.

  Katie shot him a sideways look. “You gave up five minutes after we left and asked Corwin to carry you. Why are you out of breath?”

  “BE QUIET,” Jett barked. “I AM YOUR FUTURE CAPTAIN, YOU HEAR ME.”

  Corwin abruptly stopped.

  “Whoops,” he said mildly, letting Jett slide off his back and hit the ground. “Sorry, Jett.”

  “YOU MEANT THAT!” Jett shouted.

  Artimage walked past them without breaking stride, hands clasped behind his back. “Come on, little man. It’s all part of the trial. The lieutenant clearly just wants us warmed up.” He glanced ahead. “Isn’t that right, Lieutenant?”

  Solara hummed softly to herself as she led the way, skipping over roots and stones like she didn’t weigh anything at all.

  “Specialist Lyra,” she called cheerfully.

  Lyra spun around, marching backward while pointing at the recruits. “Right—enough questions, you lot. The lieutenant has better things to do than listen to complaints.”

  Jett staggered to his feet and planted a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Soon you’ll be following my orders. Don’t sweat it.”

  Lyra froze.

  She slowly looked down at the hand.

  Then slowly looked back up at Jett’s grin.

  A sharp crack echoed through the trees as Jett’s face met the nearest trunk.

  “If I wanted you to touch me,” Lyra said flatly, “I would have told you. What is wrong with you?”

  She hit him again.

  And again.

  “I’m—sorry—” Jett sobbed between impacts.

  Bella leaned closer to Solara, whispering, “You know, for all these stupid twists and turns, you’re navigating surprisingly well. Lyra really found her stride overnight, huh?”

  Solara didn’t even glance back.

  She called out brightly, “Excellent work, Specialist. You’ll make us proud yet.”

  Lyra froze mid-swing, snapped to attention, and saluted. “Yes, Lieutenant, ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!”

  Bella blinked. “Wow. I think he might have actually broken her.”

  Hector smiled serenely. “No, no, love. She’s just excited to get things started.”

  Elyria walked a few steps behind them, arms folded. “You’re both idiots. If either of them had even a hint of what she’s about to do, they’d run for the hills and hide.”

  Aurex’s voice cut in sharply. “Well, what do you expect—”

  He was being escorted along by four armed guards, clearly unhappy about it.

  “—after they broke into Whaa Whaa’s, get drunk, and leave a mess everywhere,” Aurex continued. “Speaking of which, where is everyone? And WHY am I HERE?”

  Solara didn’t slow. “Rexybaby, calm down. You’re only here because Mr Pael requested to observe how we’re approaching this.” She smiled sweetly. “Since we both know you’ve put more effort into flower arrangements and drinking with the local idiot than the actual defence of Virelith.”

  “Yes, I understand that,” Aurex snapped. “What I meant is—WHY DID I CLOSE DOWN HALF THE CITY FOR A TRIAL THAT’S FIFTY MILES AWAY?”

  Solara tilted her head slightly. “Specialist Lyra.”

  Lyra lunged.

  She grabbed Aurex by the hair and started shaking him. “I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU ALL TO LEAVE MY LIEUTENANT ALONE—SHE’S BUSY!”

  Aurex’s guards watched in silence.

  Solara sighed happily. “That’s about the only thing I’m not actually mad about. Shame about the rest.”

  She laughed softly and continued skipping along the path.

  Hector nudged Bella. “So… did you see that last night?”

  Bella grinned. “What, during the game? Who didn’t see it? Those two sat together giggling in the corner all night. Whatever that chat was, it clearly did something.”

  “I CAN HEAR YOU,” Elyria shouted. “AND STAY OUT OF MY LOVE LIFE.”

  Bella’s eyes lit up instantly. “Lieutenant—did you hear that? She’s calling it her love life now.”

  Hector nodded solemnly. “Only a matter of time.”

  Elyria groaned. “I hate you both so much.”

  Solara finally stopped.

  She turned back to face them all, hands clasped behind her back, smiling like a child about to set off fireworks.

  “Alright, my little recruits,” she said brightly.

  “That’s us here.”

  The trees thinned abruptly, opening onto a wide, cleared basin cut into the forest floor.

  At its centre rose a low hill, terraced into three distinct levels. Waist?high walls ringed the base like the shell of a small, ugly castle. Above that, thicker barriers climbed toward the top, where a reinforced platform overlooked the entire area.

  Solara stepped forward until she stood at the foot of the hill and turned to face the group.

  “Right,” she said, clapping her hands once. “If everyone would like to listen up, please.”

  She gestured broadly at the structure. “I’m not sure how long we’ve got until this starts, so we’ll keep things simple. What you’re looking at was built specifically for this event by us. The goal is to facilitate the trial while keeping you all as safe as possible.”

  She pointed to the highest tier. “Top of the hill is the heightened centre. That’s where the others and I will be observing from.”

  Her finger dropped to the middle layer. “The second level, with the reinforced walls—if at any point you require healing, fall back there and take cover. Our lance corporal Elyria here will make sure your wounds are tended to.”

  Elyria leaned in slightly and muttered, “If you survive.”

  “I heard that!” Jett shouted. “I KNEW WE WERE GOING TO DIE!”

  Solara didn’t even pause. “Surrounding the base of the hill is full waist?height cover. Use it. Don’t ignore it.”

  Aurex raised a hand. “Can I be on Caelan’s team?”

  Solara smiled sweetly. “Specialist—”

  Lyra tackled Aurex to the ground.

  “PLEASE NOT THE HAIR!” Aurex screamed as Lyra yanked mercilessly. “NOT THE HAIR!”

  Solara laughed. “That really won’t get old. Right—guard, would you be so kind as to fire at one of the walls?”

  One of Aurex’s men raised his rifle and fired.

  The round struck the wall and ricocheted away harmlessly.

  “Thank you,” Solara said. “As you can see, the barriers won’t allow bullets through. So—no excuses.”

  She looked over the recruits, all of them drenched in sweat, chests heaving.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “None of these trials have gone perfectly,” she continued calmly. “But by now you should have worked out what we’re building toward.”

  She smiled.

  “Last chance. Everyone still in?”

  No one spoke. No one left.

  “Good,” Solara said. “Get set up. And one last thing—if I have to step in and save you, you’re out. Have fun.”

  Bella beamed. “See? We did have time.”

  Hector grinned. “Luckily, I got up early and packed.”

  Solara sighed. “I said no, but honestly—after the morning I’ve had…”

  Hector slipped an arm around her as they headed up the hill. “That’s why I brought an extra flask. Eight hours easy.”

  “You better have brought something for me,” Elyria called.

  Bella smirked. “Rules are rules. No drinking until work’s done.”

  Hector leaned back just enough to pass Elyria a bottle of spirits. “I had to steal it from the captain’s room, but—here.”

  Elyria took a sip without hesitation. “Perfect. Right. Let’s get this disaster underway. Can’t wait to see how he messes this one up.”

  Bella smiled over her shoulder. “Still talking about him? Want me to say something to him tonight? Maybe you can dance this time?”

  “Specialist,” Elyria snapped.

  Lyra marched past, dragging Aurex—his mouth now taped shut—by the hair. “That doesn’t work for you. Lieutenant, where would you like him?”

  “Centre,” Solara replied easily. “You four stay close to him. Don’t let him move.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the guards said in unison.

  Artimage dropped his pack behind one of the walls and frowned. “Um… Lieutenant? You haven’t actually explained what we’re doing yet.”

  Solara glanced back with a grin. “Don’t worry. The captain’s been planning this for months.”

  She turned away again.

  “Just you wait.

  Hours slipped by.

  The kind of hours that gnawed at nerves.

  Elyria leaned against the small central tower, lazily clicking an empty bottle against the metal as she watched the recruits wander the arena in loose, uncertain loops. No one quite knew what they were meant to be doing. They paced. They checked weapons. They argued in low voices. They waited for something to happen.

  Artimage had taken it upon himself to fill the silence.

  “Remember,” he shouted for the fourth time, “discipline under pressure is what separates—”

  No one listened.

  Solara, Bella, and Hector sat in the centre of the tower on a blanket, a small spread laid out between them, as if this were a countryside picnic rather than a trial zone. Aurex sat nearby, arms crossed, staring into nothing.

  “So,” he muttered, “we didn’t actually need to get up that early.”

  Solara opened her mouth.

  ““That monster,” Aurex snapped instantly. “DON’T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT AGAIN,”” Aurex snapped instantly.

  Solara smiled. “This one’s a hundred percent the captain. We’ll just have to wait and see what he’s done this time, won’t we? He spent months planning this one.”

  Aurex rubbed his face. “That’s what I’m worried about. He’s scary when he doesn’t think. Only the stars know what he pulls out when he plans.”

  Bella glanced toward Elyria. “That's why she should be scared, right?”

  Elyria rolled her head back against the stone. “Woman, you’re a broken record. Change the track.”

  Hector chuckled. “It works better when they’re in the same room. You know that.”

  Bella sighed dreamily. “You’re right. How did I get so lucky to have someone like you?”

  Elyria turned to Solara. “If I ever talk like that, promise me you’ll slap some sense into me.”

  Solara stood and moved to lean beside her. “Hey. Did you look into that for me?”

  Elyria eyed her. “You sure you can handle it?”

  Solara tilted her head. “So you did find something.”

  Elyria tapped the wall like she was drumming. “Ready for the big reveal?” She paused. “The truth is—he’s a complete idiot.”

  Solara blinked. “What?”

  “He doesn’t want Linda risking her life just to earn money,” Elyria said flatly. “So he keeps buying flowers so she doesn’t have to leave the city as much.”

  Solara raised a brow. “So what you’re telling me is… he’s a caring idiot who’s too embarrassed to say it out loud.”

  “Ding ding ding,” Elyria said. “Winner.”

  Solara sighed. “And that’s why he wanted the slush fund. Should’ve known it was something stupid like that. Men, honestly.”

  Two screams tore through the forest.

  Solara straightened instantly. Her voice carried across the arena.

  “RIGHT! Everyone, get ready! Stand your ground no matter what comes next! This is where you show your resolve! Pull back if you need to—there are no do?overs!”

  The recruits spun in place.

  Nothing happened.

  Jett cupped his hands and shouted into the trees. “COME ON THEN! BY THE TIME YOU’RE DONE YOU’LL BE BEGGING ME TO BE CAPTAIN!”

  Corwin hissed, “Please, Jett—just be quiet.”

  Artimage puffed out his chest. “Stick with me. The captain’s just flexing. Back in my days of command—”

  “ATTACK!” a voice roared from the forest.

  Heavy boots thundered from every direction.

  Roars followed.

  Lyra sprinted up the makeshift tower. “Ma’am—what’s happening? Who are they?”

  Solara smiled, calm as ever. “To stand with us, you must be willing to face whatever this war throws at you.”

  She spread her arms wide.

  “Stand with us—or stand aside, you decide.”

  Her eyes hardened.

  “YOUR MISSION IS SIMPLE: eliminate them all. That is the only victory condition. All recruits, focus on the target directly in front of me. Do not engage any other front.”

  Aurex’s guards raised their rifles.

  “Sir—we need to leave!” one shouted.

  “We’re surrounded! There must be hundreds of them,” another yelled.

  Aurex turned slowly to Solara, face pale. “Lieutenant… what is this?”

  Solara glanced back at him. “Do you remember the Immortal Alliance of True Commanders?”

  Aurex’s hands started to shake. “That group Ravon joined?”

  Solara laughed. “Relax. It’s not him.” Her smile sharpened. “But by the end of today, there’ll only be six of them left.”

  Her laughter echoed across the arena.

  Aurex whimpered, “Why do I keep listening to you people? It’s always the same shit.”

  A sharp whistle cut through the trees.

  A line of figures rose along the far treeline—guns shouldered and ready as if waiting for permission.

  “FIRE!” someone barked.

  Artimage’s voice cracked like a whip. “EVERYONE DOWN—NOW!”

  The recruits dove.

  Bullets hailed into the arena, chewing bark, kicking dirt, snapping off the stone walls.

  Lyra’s stomach dropped.

  Up on the tower, Solara didn’t even flinch.

  Neither did Elyria.

  The rounds screamed straight toward the platform—

  —and stopped.

  Large panes of something clear, like floating glass, appeared out of nowhere around the tower. Each bullet hit and hung there for a heartbeat, trapped mid?air, before dropping harmlessly to the ground.

  Elyria smiled faintly. “You’re getting better at it. Need a little top?up?”

  Solara kept her eyes forward. “I’m good for now. Thanks.”

  Then, without looking back, she called, “Lyra, come closer. It’s alright. You’re safe up here.”

  Lyra edged in, heart hammering, and stared out over the chaos—men charging, muzzle flashes strobing through the trees, recruits scrambling into cover.

  Solara’s voice dropped, almost conversational. “Want to see one of his other little tricks? Watch this.”

  She raised her hand above her head and clicked her fingers.

  Screams erupted from the attackers.

  Something flashed along the treeline—too fast to follow.

  Revolutionary Army jackets.

  One after another, black shapes darted through the canopy like ghosts, cutting across branches and zip?lines that hadn’t been there a second ago. The gunmen jerked their aim upward, firing wildly into the trees, losing their cover as they tried to track what they couldn’t see.

  Lyra blinked hard. “Is this what Takeshi was on about? And why has Lumi been at the shop so much?”

  Solara smiled. “Very good, Specialist. They came in thinking they had the upper hand. Even when that’s true, it doesn’t mean we can’t tip the board a little.”

  She glanced sideways at Lyra. “So—what else have you noticed?”

  Lyra scanned the field, forcing her brain to work through the noise. “They’re only pushing one front, Lieutenant.”

  Solara’s smile widened. “Oh no, no. They’re not that incompetent.”

  She nodded subtly. “Look left.”

  Lyra squinted.

  At the far edge of the arena, just beyond the walls, a neat fold of fabric sat on the ground.

  Garron’s jacket.

  And a few steps behind it—

  Garron.

  Topless. Arms folded. Expressionless.

  A cluster of enemy fighters stood facing him, guns trained, their confidence loud even from a distance. One of them—clearly the mouthy one—walked forward with a grin.

  “It’s over,” the man called. “Why don’t you see the writing on the wall? You’re massively outmanned. The boss would be delighted to meet a man like you. What do you say?”

  Garron tilted his head, voice calm as a grave. “And what gave you the confidence to justify that outcome?”

  The group laughed.

  The leader puffed himself up. “So you’ve not heard of us. Not surprised. Not many live long enough after seeing the elite unit of Commander—”

  Garron sighed.

  Then he moved.

  In one blink, he was standing there.

  Next blink, he had the speaker by the leg.

  Garron swung him like a whip and slammed him straight through his own men.

  Bodies flew back into the forest.

  Golden orbs spilled up from the ground in a rushing cloud.

  Before anyone could even finish shouting, Garron brought the man down again—another sweeping smash that sent more fighters tumbling, more orbs blooming like sparks.

  Someone charged him with a pistol, firing point?blank.

  The shots bounced off Garron like flies.

  Garron laughed.

  He stepped in and drove the attacker into the dirt with a thunderous crack, the ground splitting under the impact.

  “I see you genuinely believed those bullets could touch me,” Garron said, still laughing. “Guess he was right again—hunting every emerald monster in the region, nice touch, captain.”

  Two fighters, knives ready, rushed from either side.

  Garron caught them both by the head and slammed them together.

  They dropped.

  More orbs drifted up and away.

  His laughter carried all the way back to the tower, deep and loud over the gunfire.

  Lyra stared, horrified. “He seemed so nice and calm…”

  Aurex made a strangled noise that might’ve been a sob. “Do you see my pain now? Why did you bring me here? What is wrong with you people? I’m telling Mr Pael everything!”

  Solara turned to him with a bright, polite smile.

  “He knows.”

  Aurex deflated instantly. “Of course he does.”

  Before anyone could breathe again, a new sound ripped through the air.

  Screaming.

  Not shouted orders. Not battle cries.

  Pure, panicked terror—coming from the right side of the tower.

  The entire battlefield froze.

  A heartbeat later, a shimmering sea of golden orbs rose above the treeline, drifting upward like embers caught in the wind.

  Solara turned slightly. “And if you look to your right, Lyra—Lyra?”

  Lyra stood rigid, shaking from head to toe.

  Solara stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. Don’t worry. She’s on our side.”

  Lyra swallowed hard. “I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t haunt me.”

  Solara sighed and glanced toward Elyria. “I thought you were—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Elyria cut in. “Lieutenant, what am I meant to do? He does what he wants. You do it if you can do it better—go on, try.”

  A single sound cut through the air.

  A slash.

  The world went quiet.

  Then the treeline on the right collapsed.

  Trees fell in a sweeping line, crashing down one after another as if something had simply erased them from existence.

  Aurex leaned over the edge of the tower, eyes wide. “What was that? Was that Caelan? Is he here to—”

  He stopped.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Solara didn’t look surprised. “I wish I was.”

  From the wrecked treeline, a small figure came skipping into view.

  The ground cracked behind her.

  Lyra looked up just in time to see a familiar face smiling down from one of Solara’s floating panes.

  Mynxi waved enthusiastically. “Auntie Solara! Can I come in?”

  The pane vanished—and reappeared beneath her.

  Mynxi dropped straight down into Solara’s arms.

  Solara caught her without effort. “So,” she said calmly, “what do we do now, Master Specialist Mynxi?”

  Mynxi snapped a tiny salute. “All the bad people are gone now, Auntie Lieutenant.”

  Solara smiled. “You really are your father’s daughter.”

  Bella shook her head slowly. “That’s just bad parenting.”

  Hector nodded along. “Honestly, what did you expect with both her mum and dad training her?”

  “HEY!” Elyria shouted.

  Lyra spun in a slow circle. “Then where is everyone else?”

  As if on cue, the sound of crashing trees and wildly over-the-top laughter echoed from deeper in the forest.

  Solara glanced in that direction. “As far away as I could possibly put them.”

  Lyra stared out at the devastation, her mind scrambling. Why? What? How in the stars did he come up with this?

  Her hands clenched.

  It’s so dumb.

  Ahead of them, the remaining enemy forces on the main front finally surged forward again.

  Lyra looked back up at the tower.

  Solara was smiling.

  Not her polite smile.

  Not her playful one.

  The real one.

  Wide. Bright.

  Like this was the first time Lyra had ever truly seen her enjoy herself.

  Mynxi tugged gently at Solara’s jacket. “Auntie… can I have my juice box, please?”

  Solara looked down at her without hesitation, smiling softly and easily.

  “Anything for my favourite niece.”