Room shrunk under Pythia's revelation.

  *Three casualties. One dead. One lost his mind...*

  The Legatus' office was well lit by multiple orbs under high ceiling. The grim outside behind the windows, hidden by reflections of the room on the glass, was suddenly ominous.

  I stared at my own hands.

  *Beyond our capacity to heal, or kill. What a nightmare.*

  Legatus was pacing. Pragmatic resolve replaced his earlier fanaticism.

  "The men we lost—the men you saw die, Highest Priestess—are proof that our current methods are not enough. We need a true weapon."

  "He is not a weapon, Argus, he is a man!" Evadne exclaimed with anger. Pain stung my left ear—from the side she sat beside me. If eyes could kill, Legatus would be in danger.

  "He is the one from the prophecy," Argus countered unwavered, "and his purpose is to find glory. This is his path."

  "You are asking him to be a sacrifice." Pythia said quietly from across the table. Somehow it was more threatening than when she shouted. "You would light a match in gunpowder store and call it 'necessary'."

  "And you would let the store be overrun while you pray for a miracle!" Argus slammed his hand on the desk from the far end on the left, where his pacing led him. "I will not send more good men to die with 'almost impenetrable' armor while we have a chance to create something truly divine."

  "He has to do this." He pointed his finger at me like sword.

  "He doesn't have to do that to aid our efforts." Pythia stood. Her chin high, back straight. Her silver eyes looked at Argus with pity. "You are reckless, Argus, because you do not know the true stakes. Your brother told you about prophecy, right? But you've never heard the words."

  Argus froze still leaning above the desk. "What are you...?"

  "I held this secret to protect him. Now, I'll use it to protect him from you."

  Pythia's eyes clouded, and she recited the words that had been known to the selected few:

  "I plant the Seed Wild, from Far it came,

  Ancient Power sealed within, igniting Glory's flame."

  Argus nodded, his eyes bright. "Exactly. 'Glory's flame.' That is what I—"

  "You didn't let me finish," Pythia snapped. Her voice gave me chills.

  "Yet Flame a Wildfire, burning All to Ashes,

  One Hand must choose the Path that lies ahead."

  *Shit, this is about... me?*

  Evadne's hand gripped my arm with painful force.

  Pythia skimmed over us like judge weighing guilt.

  I held the edge of the table like I could fall, despite sitting. Pain in my rear from sitting on the chair vanished. Only tension left.

  Argus's face, so full of fanaticism, went ashen. He stumbled back a step, as if struck.

  "A... Wildfire?" he whispered, horrified. "Burning... all?"

  "Yes," Pythia said. "The outcome is not decided. He is a coin-toss between 'Glory' and 'Ashes'."

  She pointed accusingly. "And you, in your blind haste, are demanding we throw him in the fire to see which side lands."

  Pythia turned to me, her gaze softening. "Do you understand our caution now? Why I kept you close?" She glanced at Legatus walking toward her.

  "The Royal Palace cannot know this," Pythia continued. "They would see only the 'Wildfire,' not the 'Hand that must choose.' They would act to destroy you, and in doing so, perhaps become the very catalyst for the disaster."

  We all sat in silence. I glanced at Evadne, her gaze fled, she knew. She released my arm, hands escaped to her laps.

  Argus stopped by the window close to Pythia, his back to us. I could see the reflection of his hand on his forehead. He was shaking.

  When he finally turned, his eyes were still wide, but the fear was being burned away by a new, terrible purpose.

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  "It changes nothing," he said with slow growl.

  "Argus!" Pythia exclaimed in disbelief.

  "It changes everything!" he roared, turning back to Pythia. "Don't you see? We can't let this 'Wildfire' ignite by accident on a battlefield, uncontrolled!" He waved his hand like he was commanding the march.

  "We can't let him 'recover for a year' while this thing simmers inside him!" He leaned into her and landed his finger on the desk. "The prophecy says a 'Hand must choose.' We must forge that Hand. We must control the flame." He paused.

  When he straightened, towering over her, he said like the case was closed. "The Ascension is the only way."

  "You are asking me to light the match!" Pythia shouted to him.

  "No! I am asking you to build the forge!" Legatus shouted back.

  I slammed my hands on the desk. "Stop! Both of you!"

  The sound was a pathetic thud compared to Argus's, but it worked.

  They both froze, staring at me as if they'd forgotten I was there.

  "I'm here," I said, my teeth clenched. "You're talking about me." Fist bumped my chest. "My life. My fate!" I exclaimed, but added calmer.

  "So stop talking about me and start talking to me."

  Everybody looked at me with surprise in their eyes. Pythia like she saw me for the first time. She re-evaluated me. A slow smirk crossed her face. She gave slow nod of approval.

  "Forgive this humble servant of Pandora," she paused intently, "Saint Leonard."

  Argus's jaw went slack.

  He stared, then slowly, stiffly, mirrored the gesture. "Forgive me... Saint Leonard. You are right. This is your choice as well."

  *Pythia called me a saint and Legatus suddenly acts like an obedient lamb?*

  My breath sounded heavy through my nose. Legatus sat back across the table, close to Pythia. Evadne seemed to hide a smile within my peripheral vision, but I didn't dare a look.

  *I'd better cash in on the advantage.*

  "Three failed attempts, and you want me to be the fourth, Legatus?"

  "I want you to be the first success," he replied, his confidence absolute. "Pandora herself has said this therapy, if successful, elevates the human body to heroic levels. Above Sacred Armor."

  "Above... armor? It's possible?" I whispered. Pulse of the seal intensified slightly.

  "It's necessary," Argus's eyes burned with fanaticism. They sparkled similarly to his polished breast plate.

  "How?" I asked, a bad feeling lurked in my stomach.

  "First stage is quick, it shapes your body to the peak condition. Second moves past that in a year," Argus replied, but Pythia continued before he could. I caught her every word like my life depended on it. It sort of did.

  "The more damaged the vessel, the more effective the therapy," she said, her words clinical.

  *My ‘vessel' was damaged by summoning.*

  "Once a stage is started, it must be completed," she paused. "Otherwise you'll be crippled for life."

  I gulped. Heart raced. Seal pulsed calmly.

  "The potions require you to train to total collapse, every single day, to be rebuilt stronger. This is first stage." She raised her finger.

  "Second stage is many times worse, here we failed." She raised second finger. "If you stop..."

  She placed her hand back on the table, looked Legatus and me in the eyes. "If you stop then catalysts turn toxic. It will dissolve your tissues. It is a gruesome, agonizing death."

  Something in me was screaming to run. "Three people hurt already, and I'm asked if I want to join them?"

  "They're both right, Leonard," Althea said calmly. "It's a high-risk, high-gain solution."

  "Three casualties, Althea," I whispered in my mother tongue, my hand trembling.

  "This will be an ordeal, Leonard. Painful. Incredibly painful," she replied. "But those three... they didn't have me." She said like a promise. Like she tried to seduce me. Lure me.

  *Pain for power, simple transaction.*

  "I am your Guide, bound by Pandora to 'Protect' you," she continued. "I can guide your body through this. I can ensure you don't just survive, Leonard. I can ensure you master it. You won't be broken by this. You will be forged."

  *She sounds confident. Maybe she could actually help me go through it?*

  Legatus and Pythia started the silent staring contest on the other side of the table. They gave me time to think, but kept stealing glances at me.

  *Two stages.*

  I looked down on my wrist to focus.

  *Once a stage is started, it must be completed.*

  Hand traced the vein-like pattern on my wrist, quite rough under the touch.

  *They failed on second, and first gives strength within human limits.*

  I looked up, my gaze shifting from Pythia's dread to Argus's fanaticism. The fear was still there. But I saw the compromise.

  "Can I do first stage only?" I asked.

  Pythia nodded, while Argus inhaled deeply—"I won't do the full Ascension," I declared.

  "Leonard—" Argus started.

  "Not yet," I cut him off. "I will agree to first stage only."

  "The Crucible only?" Argus growled. "That's just the tempering! Three months of agony just to get you to peak human! It won't give you the power—"

  Three months, he said as if it was nothing, but it was everything to me.

  *Peak human is enough to ensure my physical independence and survival, then I can focus on my way home.*

  He kept saying some bullshit. Didn't listen. I waited.

  Pythia didn't interrupt. *Did she realize I ignore him?*

  Evadne remained silent, but frowned.

  *I don't plan to be their hero. Heroes die.*

  I just stared at him until he made longer pause for breath.

  "It will give me enough," I snapped. "We can always continue second stage later." A half truth slipped on its own.

  Pythia let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders slumping in relief. It was a compromise she could live with. I got the training, Legatus a half-baked promise, and we avoided riskier part of the "therapy".

  "Three months," Argus grumbled, clearly furious but trapped by my logic. "Just to build the foundation." He stared at me, his eyes measuring. "Fine. 'The Crucible' for now, Highest Priestess?"

  I met his gaze, the words of the prophecy ringing in my ears. *A Wildfire burning All to Ashes.*

  "Temple will give full support, Saint Leonard promised to aid in our efforts, even if he pursue his own goals," she said without delay. Her silver hair glimmered under bright light from the orbs under the ceiling when she moved her head between me and Legatus.

  "Don't worry, Leonard," Althea whispered, triumphant. "I am here to 'Protect' you and I will fulfill my duty."

  "We will master this," Althea emphasized. "Together."

  "Good." Argus said. He had conceded, and now it was his turn to state his price. "Then it's settled. You get your 'Crucible,' Saint. And in return, you will do something for me."

  I tensed.

  *Of course there was a catch. What is it now, Legatus?*