Before the punch.The man held Natalie pinned against him, his arm tight around her waist, the other hand tangled in her hair. Her struggles were weakening, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers.A sound came from the ground behind him. A low groan.He didn’t turn immediately. He kept his gaze locked on Natalie's wide, terrified eyes.Another sound. A shifting of limbs on packed earth.He glanced back over his shoulder.Kyle pushed himself up onto one knee, then slowly, unsteadily, to his feet. His left arm hung limp at his side, his right hand mangled. Blood dripped from his mouth, smearing his chin. His tunic was torn, scorched.But his hair, previously brown, was now stark black, falling slightly over his forehead. His eyes weren’t brown, or silver, or shadow. They glowed with a steady, intense green light. Intricate, glowing green lines, like circuitry etched onto skin, snaked across his left arm from shoulder to fingertip, pulsing faintly.

Kyle stood over the specialist’s body. The air settled, quiet except for the rustle of leaves high in the canopy. Blood stained the moss around the corpse.Arachne pushed herself fully upright, walking towards Kyle, her movements stiff. Natalie followed close behind her, keeping her eyes averted from the body on the ground. Viv approached from the other side, kicking idly at a loose root."Well," Viv said, looking down at the dead man. "That was... something."Kyle didn’t look at the body. He turned towards the castle. "Let’s go inside."They walked back, leaving the clearing and the corpse behind. Kyle walked steadily, though his shoulders slumped slightly. Arachne walked beside him, still favoring her injured side. Natalie trailed them, looking down at the ground. Viv brought up the rear, glancing back occasionally.Inside the main hall of the castle, the heavy doors closed behind them with a soft thud. The space felt large, quiet. Kyle stopped near the center of the room."He got i

Two days later at the training ground. Kyle stood near the center again. Arachne and Viv stood opposite him, holding wooden swords. They moved through drills – block, parry, thrust, cut – their movements practiced, efficient. The clack of wood echoed rhythmically. Natalie sat on a low stone bench near the edge of the training ground. She wore simple clothes, different from the workout gear. She held a plain wooden cup in both hands, sipping slowly from it. Her face was pale, faint bruises still visible. She watched the others train, her expression quiet, observant. Kyle called out a sequence. "Parry high, spin, thrust low." Arachne flowed through the movements, her blade precise, her balance perfect. Viv executed the moves with more flair, adding unnecessary flourishes but landing each step correctly. They reset. "Again." They repeated the sequence. Natalie set her cup down beside her on the bench. She watched Kyle, then Arachne, then Viv. Her gaze lingered on their hand

The lock clicked.Katherine pushed the apartment door open, the hinges groaning softly. She stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind her with her heel. The briefcase hit the floor near the entranceway with a dull thud. She slid her keys onto the small entryway table, the metal scraping faintly against the wood surface.She stood motionless for a moment, shoulders slumped slightly beneath her damp coat. The silence of the apartment pressed in. She kicked off her shoes, one after the other, leaving them near the mat. She ran a hand through her hair, loosening strands from the tight bun at the nape of her neck.She walked towards the kitchen. The overhead light flickered once before settling into a steady, pale glow. She opened the refrigerator, the soft hum momentarily louder. She scanned the contents. Milk, some leftover takeout containers, half a block of cheese. She closed the fridge door.Her gaze shifted to the small wine rack beside the counter. She selected a bottle of deep r

Kyle watched her, the subtle shifts in her posture, the way her gaze kept flicking towards the shattered wine glass as if it were a more immediate threat than him. The fear was still there, a tight coil beneath the surface, but the outright panic had subsided. Replaced by a wary, calculating scrutiny.Good enough."Okay," she said finally, her voice still strained but firmer now. "I’ll hear you out." She gestured towards the armchair opposite the sofa he occupied. "Sit down. Properly." It was an order, not a request, a small reclaiming of authority in her own space.He didn’t comment, just rose and moved to the indicated armchair, sinking into it. It was less comfortable than the sofa. He watched her navigate around the wine stain again, perching on the edge of her own sofa, hands clasped tightly in her lap. The coffee table, scarred and cluttered, sat between them like a negotiation table in a ceasefire zone."First," she began, her eyes narrowed, "where have you been? The Guild, eve