Night had settled over the northern forest of Tharos-5 like a heavy shroud. The heavy rain had not relented for hours, and the terrain bore its scars—rivulets of water carved paths through the underbrush, pooling in shallow depressions between gnarled roots and jagged stone. The pine trees stood tall and rigid, their trunks slick with rain, their spined branches drooping under the weight of water. Cones littered the ground like scattered caltrops, half-submerged in mud and moss.

  The forest was a labyrinth of shadows and motionless silhouettes. Every tree looked like a sentinel. Every bush, a crouching figure. The rain blurred the edges of reality, turning distance into distortion. Visibility was low, but not impossible—just enough to make every movement uncertain.

  Beneath a collapsed trunk, half-swallowed by vegetation, a figure lay prone. Her suit, matte black with faint violet accents, reflected no light. Her visor, a sleek curve of reinforced glass, displayed a layered interface—thermal outlines, infrared silhouettes, and spectrum overlays flickering in real time to enhance her sight and data processing regardless the rain that streamed down her in thin sheets. Her body was still, but her eyes moved—tracking, calculating.

  She had been there for hours.

  “Violet, they’re almost there.” The voice crackled through her comms.

  Her gaze sharpened. She adjusted her position by a fraction, her fingers brushing the hilt of her retracted blade. The forest around her remained indifferent—just the hiss of rain and the occasional flicker of lightning far beyond the canopy.

  “Prince, keep eyes on them. Violet, engage on my command.” Another voice—colder, more commanding.

  She didn’t respond immediately. Her breath fogged the inside of her visor. She blinked once, slowly.

  I am ready.

  — ? —

  Elsewhere, three figures moved through the forest, their suits shimmering faintly beneath the rain. Their outlines were barely distinguishable from the trees—angular, purposeful, and silent. They advanced in short bursts, pausing every few meters to scan the terrain. Their visors glowed faintly, casting pale light on the wet bark and glistening leaves.

  “Where are they?” asked one, his voice tight.

  “Probably hiding, waiting to pounce,” replied the girl beside him, her launcher slung low, its barrel dripping.

  “Focus,” snapped the third, their leader.

  The forest around them was a maze of vertical lines and shifting shadows. Branches swayed overhead, dripping water in rhythmic patterns. The ground was uneven, littered with natural debris—fallen trunks, exposed roots, and patches of bioluminescent fungus that pulsed faintly underfoot.

  “We’re nearing the edge of the zone. Where’s the beacon?” Xin asked.

  “If I were them, I’d hide it in the mountain,” Ada replied.

  “Cowards,” Xin muttered.

  “Shut up and keep moving,” Matt said. “We’re ready.”

  — ? —

  High above, nestled in a rocky alcove near the mountain’s base, a sniper lay in wait. His scope cut through the rain like a scalpel, isolating movement from noise. The cave around him was dark, its mouth framed by vines and slick stone. Water dripped from the edge in slow, deliberate drops.

  “They’re getting closer,” he whispered.

  “Target zone in two minutes.”

  The sky beyond the canopy was beginning to shift—dark blue giving way to a faint, bruised gray. The storm was weakening, but the forest remained soaked, its colors muted and cold.

  “Violet, it’s time. Go.” her leader Vivan, finally gave the order.

  She moved.

  “Roger.”

  — ? —

  A fourth shadow broke from the underbrush—fluid, fast, and deliberate. Her sprint was a blur of motion, her suit adapting to the terrain with subtle shifts in balance and tension. She vaulted over a fallen trunk, twisted mid-air, and landed in a crouch without a sound. Her blade ignited as she ran, casting a violet trail through the trees.

  “She’s fast…” Prince muttered, tracking her through the scope.

  The trio picked up speed, their formation tightening.

  “We’re almost there. Ada, prep the launcher. Xin, you know what to do when she shows,” Matt ordered.

  “Roger,” they replied.

  Violet closed the distance. Her blade pulsed with energy, illuminating the rain in flashes. The forest around her blurred—trees became streaks, rocks became obstacles to be conquered mid-stride.

  “Xin, Ada—she’s coming from our 1700! Fast!” Matt shouted.

  “Shit!” Xin turned, catching a glimpse of the violet arc weaving through the trees.

  “Ada, incendiary rounds. Create a firewall!” he shouted.

  “Are you giving me orders now?” Ada asked, challenging Xin’s command.

  “Ada, do it,” Matt snapped.

  “Roger…”

  Ada slowed just enough to load the incendiary charges, then fired in a wide arc. The forest lit up—chemical fire surged outward, casting harsh orange light across the rain-soaked terrain. Trees hissed and cracked. Shadows danced violently.

  “That should slow her down,” Xin said.

  But Violet didn’t hesitate. She surged forward.

  “Prince, I need you.”

  “I know. Keep going.”

  From his perch, Prince loaded an explosive round into his underbarrel launcher and fired. The shot struck just before the firewall, blasting a gap through the inferno. Smoke and steam billowed outward, obscuring everything.

  Violet leapt through the opening in the firewall, her boots striking the soaked earth with a splash. Steam curled around her legs as she surged forward, the chemical flames behind her casting flickering shadows across the trees.

  As she passed through the inferno’s edge, the sound of falling rain began to soften. The canopy above thickened, sheltering the forest floor. Droplets still fell from branches, but the downpour had thinned to a misty drizzle, leaving behind a dense humidity and a faint haze that clung to the ground.

  Her violet blade pulsed in her grip, cutting through the haze like a comet. Her breathing was steady, but her heart pounded—a rhythmic thrum she barely acknowledged.

  The trio spotted her advance and pushed their pace harder, boots hammering against the muddy terrain, water spraying with every stride.

  “How did she do that?” Ada gasped, her voice tight with disbelief.

  From his perch above, Prince exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the humid air, slicing past Ada’s head by mere centimeters. Bark exploded from a tree behind her, fragments scattering like shrapnel.

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  “Sniper!” Matt shouted, immediately breaking into a zigzag sprint. The others followed, scattering through the trees to avoid becoming easy targets.

  “Ada! Take care of the sniper!” Matt barked.

  Ada gritted her teeth and slammed her launcher against her thigh. The weapon hissed, shifting configuration—barrel extending, stabilizers locking into place. Her visor highlighted Prince’s last known position in red. With the rain no longer obscuring her optics, targeting became easier.

  She aimed high.

  The rocket launched with a deafening roar, trailing smoke and fire through the damp air. It struck near Prince’s perch, detonating with a thunderous shockwave that shook the cliffside.

  Prince stood just as the blast hit. The force knocked him off balance—he stumbled, then tripped, tumbling down the rocky slope in a blur of limbs and gear.

  “Prince!” Vivan shouted, voice cracking as he broke cover.

  There was no sign of movement. No confirmation of survival. Just smoke, silence, and the fading echo of the explosion.

  Vivan clenched his jaw, eyes wide, breath shallow. Then he snapped back into motion.

  “I’ll keep them busy!” he growled, bursting from a dense thicket just meters from the fleeing team.

  He opened fire in short, controlled bursts, muzzle flashes lighting up the forest like strobe lights. The trio returned fire, forced to halt briefly to aim. Sparks flew as rounds struck trees and armor plating. The forest echoed with the sharp crack of gunfire and the hiss of steam rising from scorched foliage.

  You’re mine.

  Violet closed the gap, her figure a blur of motion. Her suit adjusted with each step, absorbing impact and redirecting momentum. Her muscles burned with exertion, but her mind was clear—focused. Her presence grew heavier, like a storm front bearing down.

  “She’s here!” Xin shouted, spinning to face her.

  He drew his handgun and fired rapidly. Muzzle flashes lit his visor, each shot echoing through the trees.

  Violet accelerated, her blade sweeping in tight arcs. She deflected most of the shots, the energy field around her sword flaring with each impact. Her body moved with fluid precision—every motion honed by repetition, every breath timed to her strikes. She passed Xin in a blur, vaulted left off a mossy boulder, and lunged toward Matt.

  A metallic clash rang out—Violet’s blade met Xin’s short sword in a burst of sparks and light.

  “I got you,” Xin said, smirking through gritted teeth.

  Violet’s sword, forged with an alloyed core and embedded energy channels, glowed with fierce violet light. Its edge shimmered with heat, capable of slicing through conventional armor. Xin’s blade, smaller but precise, carried a single energy channel—just enough to parry lighter strikes.

  Their weapons collided again, casting bursts of purple, pink, and deep-blue light that danced through the forest like fireflies. The shadows twisted with each clash, the air thick with tension.

  Violet disengaged, flipping backward. Her thigh muscles tensed, absorbing the shock. Xin raised his gun again, now at close range.

  He fired three shots.

  She deflected two.

  The third struck her in the right thigh, just above the joint.

  She landed hard, her boots skidding across wet stone. Pain flared, sharp and immediate, but her suit absorbed the worst of it. Her breathing hitched, then steadied. She didn’t hesitate.

  In a blink, she was in front of Xin again.

  He tried to retreat, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  Violet slashed twice in an ‘X’ pattern. Her blade tore through Xin’s armor, burning and slicing with brutal precision. The strikes left glowing gashes across his chest and side.

  Xin collapsed, groaning in pain, steam rising from his wounds.

  Violet didn’t stop.

  She was already moving toward Ada.

  “Stay away!” Ada screamed, raising her rifle. But Violet was too close—there was no time to aim.

  With a swift horizontal slash, Violet cut across Ada’s abdomen. Her momentum carried her behind her opponent, where she pivoted and brought her blade down in a vertical arc. The strike landed squarely on Ada’s left shoulder, sending her crashing to the ground.

  Ada didn’t move.

  Violet turned toward Matt.

  He was ready—standing at the perfect distance, rifle aimed, breath steady, eyes locked on her.

  Violet knew she could deflect the bullets, but there was no time to change course.

  Shots rang out.

  But it was Matt who fell.

  Behind his collapsing body, just a few meters away, Vivan knelt with his rifle still aimed, smoke curling from the barrel.

  Violet slowed, her breath steadying as she approached. Her thigh throbbed, but she ignored it.

  “I think that’s all of them,” Vivan said, lowering his weapon.

  “They were only three. Just like us,” Violet replied, deactivating her sword. The blade hissed as it retracted, its glow fading.

  Behind them, one of the shadows stirred.

  Xin, wounded but conscious, slowly raised his gun, aiming at Violet’s back with trembling hands.

  A single, thunderous shot echoed through the forest.

  Violet and Vivan spun toward the sound, weapons raised.

  Not far from them, Prince stood at the edge of the cliff, sniper rifle still smoking. His armor was scratched, his visor cracked, but he was standing.

  “Don’t forget to verify the status of downed enemies,” he said, lowering his weapon. “They might be faking.”

  Violet and Vivan turned back to find Xin lying motionless, a fresh impact mark on his helmet. This time, he was truly unconscious.

  “Well, thank you, Prince. That should wrap it up,” Vivan said.

  An alert blared through the forest, confirming his words:

  SCENARIO COMPLETE. END OF EXERCISE.

  PLEASE REPORT BACK TO YOUR INSTRUCTOR.

  ALL INCAPACITATED PERSONNEL WILL BE TRANSPORTED TO THE NEAREST MEDICAL FACILITY.

  — ? —

  The trio entered a nearby cave—their hideout. The interior was dim and dry, a welcome contrast to the soaked forest outside. Their gear clinked softly as they moved.

  “So, they didn’t even reach our hideout. The beacon just sat here collecting dust,” Vivan said proudly.

  “We just acted the right way to ensure the success of the exercise,” Prince replied, pressing a button on the beacon terminal. The device began its compacting protocol, folding in on itself with a soft hum.

  Outside, the forest was beginning to shift. The clouds overhead thinned, and the first hints of pre-dawn light filtered through the canopy, casting pale illumination across the terrain.

  They loaded the remaining equipment, including the beacon, into their all-terrain vehicle.

  “Another course complete. The Academy is draining our very life,” Vivan said, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

  “You whine too much, Vivan,” Prince replied, settling into the passenger seat.

  “Shut up,” Vivan grunted as he started munching on a protein bar. “Violet, get in already.”

  “Coming.”

  Violet climbed into the back seat. Once inside, she removed her helmet and leaned back.

  Her long black hair, damp with sweat, clung to her neck and shoulders. Her eyes stared out the window, unfocused, as the vehicle rumbled to life and rolled into the soft light of morning.

  — ? —

  The crawler rumbled along the forest’s edge, its six rugged wheels gripping the uneven terrain with mechanical precision. The vehicle’s adaptive suspension flexed with each dip and rise, absorbing shocks from roots, rocks, and shallow trenches carved by the night’s rain. Its armored hull bore the marks of previous missions—scorched plating, faded decals, and a few fresh scratches from the recent exercise. Inside, the cockpit was compact but efficient, lined with reinforced glass panels and a modular dashboard displaying terrain data, vitals, and navigation overlays.

  The rain had thinned to a whisper, now just a fine mist clinging to the canopy. Droplets fell intermittently from the branches, catching the first rays of morning light. The sky above was no longer a solid mass of cloud—patches of pale blue peeked through, streaked with soft orange and gold. The forest shimmered, dew sparkling on every leaf and blade of grass.

  Violet leaned back in her seat, her body finally relaxing. Her Trial Suit’s internal systems worked quietly, administering microcurrents and localized compression to accelerate healing. The pain in her thigh had dulled, but the memory of the strike lingered. She watched the landscape shift—dense trees giving way to rolling hills and distant peaks.

  “Violet, you let Xin shoot. How awkward. How does it feel?” Vivan asked, steering around a fallen log with a casual flick of the wheel.

  “It stings…” Violet replied, her voice low as she checked her wound through her suit’s interface.

  “What stings? The wound or your pride?” Vivan grinned. “Hahahaha.”

  “Both…” she muttered, her tone dry.

  Prince, seated in the copilot’s chair, glanced at her through the rearview mirror but said nothing.

  “What about you, Prince?” Vivan continued. “The rocket. The one Ada shot at you?”

  Prince shrugged. “It was nothing, really. I just hung in there.”

  “…”

  “What?”

  “You both are such a case…” Vivan chuckled, letting the topic drop.

  The crawler crested a ridge, and the view opened up. Below, the terrain sloped into a wide valley, where the forest thinned and the light grew stronger. Mist drifted across the ground, glowing faintly in the morning sun.

  Violet’s gaze lingered on the horizon. “Such a beautiful landscape,” she whispered. “Reminds me of home.”

  “What did you say?” Vivan asked, catching her voice in the mirror.

  “I said it reminds me of home,” Violet repeated, louder this time.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t mind me,” she said, sighing softly.

  A low hum filled the air—steady, mechanical, and unmistakable.

  “Hey, you hear that?” Vivan asked, leaning forward slightly.

  Prince turned his head toward the sound. “Yeah. Medical transport. Flying low.”

  Through the windshield, a sleek aerial vehicle came into view, gliding just above the treetops. Its frame was compact and angular, designed for rapid deployment and maneuverability. Four independent thrusters—two on each side—pivoted in subtle unison, allowing the craft to adjust its trajectory with surgical precision. The transport banked gently, its undercarriage glowing faintly as it stabilized over a clearing. Its hull bore the white and blue insignia of the Academy’s medical division, and its rear hatch was already open, ready to receive casualties.

  “That’s for the losers,” Vivan muttered, eyes still on the road.

  Prince raised an eyebrow. “Harsh.”

  “What? We performed better. Protected the beacon. Stayed on our feet. We’re just better than them. Nothing about luck.”

  Prince nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

  That’s the truth, Violet thought. We trained more. We practiced more. That’s why we won.

  — ? —

  The crawler descended into the valley, the road twisting sharply as it followed the natural contours of the land. The vehicle’s suspension groaned as it adjusted to the incline, tires gripping the gravel with precision. The forest gave way to open terrain—grassy fields, scattered boulders, and finally, the glint of water.

  A crystal-clear lake shimmered in the morning light, its surface reflecting the sky like glass. On the shore, a temporary base had been assembled—modular buildings arranged in a semi-circle, each one designed for rapid deployment and multi-purpose use. The structures were matte gray with reinforced corners, solar panels angled toward the rising sun, and antenna arrays pulsing with data signals. A few scout bikes and maintenance crawlers idled nearby, their operators finishing post-exercise routines.

  “Hey! The transports are departing already. I think we’re the last ones,” Prince said, pointing to the aerial carriers lifting off in the distance.

  “You mean the last winners, right?” Vivan laughed, pressing the accelerator to reach the camp in time.

  They parked near the storage module and unloaded their gear. The exercise equipment was stowed away, and the trio headed straight to the central command module—a larger structure with a raised platform, tactical displays, and a communications hub. The module’s walls were lined with mission logs and holographic maps, and a few instructors monitored incoming data from the field.

  “You’re late,” the instructor said without looking up.

  “But after an exceptional performance, if I must say,” Vivan replied with a grin.

  “…”

  “Excuse him, sir. We returned as quickly as possible from the exercise area,” Prince added, trying to soften the mood.

  “The last transport is leaving in fifteen minutes. You’ll receive the results of the exercise in your personal account. Use any terminal to access them and sign in conformance,” the instructor said, already turning back to his console.

  “You heard him. Let’s go pack the rest of our stuff and bounce out of here!” Vivan declared triumphantly.

  They returned to their assigned living module and gathered their belongings—some clothes, personal trinkets, and data pads. The room was small but familiar, filled with the quiet hum of systems powering down.

  “Violet, are you ready?” Prince asked.

  “The transport is leaving.”

  “Yes, let’s go,” she replied, her voice calm.

  — ? —

  The three boarded the medium-sized aerial transport alongside other teams. Their unit was the only one unscathed—no visible damage, no limping recruits. The transport’s interior was clean and utilitarian, with fold-down seats, overhead compartments, and a central comms panel. Its four thrusters, larger than those on the medical unit, roared as the craft lifted off—swift but heavy, its reinforced hull designed to withstand harsh conditions and long-range deployment.

  “Well, well, isn’t the invincible team,” a voice said over the general comms channel.

  “I really thought this time Xin, Ada, and Matt would bring you to your knees.”

  “Yeah, I heard Xin trained day and night to stop the Violet Gleam,” another added.

  “You don’t know Violet. It would take more than extra training to take her down,” Vivan replied.

  Why are they talking about me? Violet wondered, her eyes fixed on the window.

  “Right, you also need incredible talent to match hers. Also, an insatiable thirst for blood—HAHAHAHA,” the first recruit added, ending the exchange.

  The rest of the trip was quiet. The transport glided smoothly over the terrain, the lake shrinking behind them as the landscape shifted from wild to structured. Hours passed, forests gave way to roads, then to buildings—utility depots, fuel stations, and training yards. The skies grew busier, dotted with other transports and scout drones weaving through designated corridors.

  “Back again at the Academy,” Prince said through the team’s comms channel.

  Violet looked ahead. Rising from the horizon like a monument to discipline and ambition, the Star Force Academy stood tall—its spires gleaming in the morning sun, casting long shadows across the training fields.

  “The Star Force Academy,” Violet whispered to herself.

  Its silhouette was familiar, but it never failed to stir something deep inside her—hope, fear, determination. She tightened her grip on her helmet and leaned forward, eyes locked on the tower.

  This is where I become who I’m meant to be.