One of those nights, Adrian was exhausted. He had spent hours buried in the endless books about the fifth thread inside the Time Chamber. His head felt heavy, his eyes sore. Finally, he decided to take a break.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he leaned against the stool and lazily opened the chat window.
It was late—so late Idiot wasn't online. The others were quiet too. Only one name glowed. Valor.
Valor: [Hey, Avirin. Studying?]
Adrian took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah. What about you?"
[Just finished training. Was cleaning my weapons.]
Adrian hummed. That sounded just like him. From what Adrian had learned, Valor was a warrior to the core. Unlike Dark Knight—who had been forced into the battlefield when humanity was at the edge of extinction—Valor's world was different. Safer. Peaceful enough for him to live in comfort if he wanted to.
But he didn't. Valor fought because he wanted to. Not for survival, not for duty—simply because it was who he was. A born warrior.
