The government didn’t waste time. Within three days, crates of weapons, piles of fortified armor, and enough high-grade cultivator enhancers to power a small army were delivered to Sylvester’s base. Along with it came land grants. Two untouched forest clearings now under his jurisdiction, perfect for expanding shelters and setting up cultivation zones. Food trucks pulled in by the dozen, bringing with them preserved meals, fresh vegetables, and grains. For the first time in months, Sylvester felt the weight on his shoulders begin to lift.He stood in the center of the compound, arms crossed, eyes scanning the newly arrived supplies. Geral and Otto oversaw unloading the weaponry while Verity ran a count on the food stockpile. It all felt surreal."This is a start," Sylvester murmured, more to himself than anyone else. But his eyes narrowed. “Now comes the real work.”His promise to investigate the incoming war wasn’t just for formality’s sake. The war that was coming didn’t just a

The early morning air was supposed to be calm and endearing.But not this time. It held a sharpness that felt like a breath held in, waiting to explode out of the lungs. A wide clearing had been set aside for the challenge, flanked by trees on all sides like silent, towering spectators. Emily stood at the edge of the field, her eyes scanning the terrain ahead. It stretched far, a labyrinth of towering walls, unstable platforms, and strange glowing artifacts embedded into the ground. She exhaled deeply, rolling her shoulders as Katherine approached her from behind."You sure you’re ready for this?" Katherine asked, arms folded.Emily glanced over her shoulder, determination burning behind her eyes. "I’ve been ready. I said to throw your hardest, remember? I’m still waiting to see it."Katherine snorted softly, a half-smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Day one’s mild. Consider it a warm-up. Tomorrow might break you.""Then I better enjoy today while I can."Sylvester watched fr

“This looks familiar,” Emily folded her arms as she scanned the course. “Because it is,” Katherine nodded. She rolled her shoulders, bounced a little on the balls of her feet, and looked toward Katherine, who stood off to the side with a clipboard in hand. "You sure this is it?" Emily asked, tilting her head with a suspicious grin. Katherine didn't respond, only smirked and gave her a nod. That smirk alone should’ve warned her. “Well…the things we do for mastery, ey?” Emily took off, clearing the first obstacle. The tiles of course, were slippery, and they shifted from side to side every time her foot made contact. But yesterday’s mistakes were today’s lessons, and the course was relatively easier. She barely put her foot down from the obstacle when she had a fourth of a second to react and dodge a punch from a man. “What the…” she stopped when she realized what was happening. This was why today’s course was different. There were fighters. Mid-level, this one. That was cl

When Sylvester stepped into their quarters that evening, he was met with the warm scent of vanilla and the soft hum of Emily’s voice singing off-key to herself. She was brushing out her hair by the mirror, still wearing her training clothes from earlier, but her eyes lit up when she saw him.“You’re back!” she beamed, spinning around. “So? How was work?”Sylvester walked in, unstrapping the leather band from his wrist. “You might want to sit for this.”Emily narrowed her eyes playfully but humored him, flopping onto the couch like a child ready for a bedtime story.“There’s going to be a ball,” Sylvester said, watching her reaction closely.Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness. After how many years?!” Sylvester shook his head at his wife’s excitement. “Relax, darling. The last time we went for one of those, we were attacked…twice. I can’t understand your enthusiasm for these things.”“We were attacked because you’re Sylvester Wright, baby…not because we were going for a ball.”“Fa

The sun had barely stretched past its morning arc when Emily began preparing for the ball. She didn’t go to work. Didn’t so much as glance at a report or touch a blade. Today was different and so she treated it that way. She stood before the mirror in their bedroom, her arms crossed beneath her robe, her eyes scanning the room like something was missing. Then she turned her gaze back to herself. Hair first. The stylist that Katherine had recommended showed up right on time. A quiet, efficient woman named Lorna, who worked with delicate fingers and soft hums. She twisted Emily’s hair into a cascading braid woven with soft silver threads, barely visible, but catching the light in the most elegant way. “Mhh…didn’t think you’d be one for hairdos and make-up,” Emily told Katherine in a video call as she showcased her recommendation’s work. “Girls gotta look pretty when kicking ass,” Katherine replied simply. Then came the makeup. Subtle. Earthy. Lorna had insisted Emily didn