The recruits stood in two rigid lines, sweat dripping down their faces after hours of drills.
Most were still catching their breath, hands trembling around the cold weight of their training blades.
Ryu wasn't trembling. Her blade hung loose but steady at her side, her chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm, as if she had been born with steel in her hands.
The captain's boots echoed as he paced before them, eyes sharp and unforgiving.
"Six months," he barked.
"And still half of you flinch when a blade comes near your throat. Half of you still strike with fear instead of intent."
Murmurs rippled through the ranks. His gaze cut through them like a blade until it stopped on Ryu.
"But some among you… doesn't strike like a child learning to crawl."
The captain's tone lowered, almost approving, though it carried no warmth.
"While the rest of you are learning to hold steel, some of you are already steel, ready to go further."
The words struck harder than any blow.
For a moment, she wasn't in the training hall. She was back in her father's home, his hands guiding hers in the dim light. His voice was soft but unyielding.
"Ryu, we will not be together always. To protect you, you must learn to defend yourself. Never let anyone corner you.
Stand your ground."
Years later, Kevin's voice had replaced his, sweat pouring as they sparred in the dust until their arms ached. He never let her training die.
The captain's voice dragged her back. The recruits muttered around her, jealousy, awe, maybe even fear.
To Ryu, the announcement was no glory.
It was a burden settling onto her shoulders. A silent mark that from this moment, her path would be harsher than theirs.
She lowered her eyes, tightened her grip. Her nails dug into her palms.
Ready.
The word didn't feel like a choice. It felt like a sentence.
In the training rooms~
Captain EEL's voice rang out.
"Ryu. Meet your team."
He turned to the others.
"Beside you, the boy is Echo. Apprentice, for now."
The boy's dark eyes flicked toward her, restless, distrustful.
"And across the room, Vesper.
She was younger than you both when she came here. Senior Assassin."
Vesper's eyes were unreadable. Arms crossed. Her gaze sharp as a blade that cut without moving.
"Delta," EEL said at last. "That is your team codename. Your first trial begins.
Return to your quarters. You will receive the information as usual. Once the task is complete, I will decide if you are ready for the next step."
The assignment was simple on paper. Infiltrate the college. Gather intelligence. Report on the target whose file now lay in their hands. Name, height, weight, build, hobbies, class schedule.
Ryu and Echo would blend in as students, slipping through conversations, gathering fragments.
Vesper would move independently. Her role is deliberately vague.
Ryu did not question it. Echo raised a brow but said nothing. Only Vesper smirked, as if she understood more than she let on.
Days blurred into weeks of whispered names and scribbled notes, meetings disguised as casual walks across campus.
Echo passed her scraps of information, eyes always restless. Ryu made contact where needed, cold and quick.
She wondered, sometimes, why Vesper vanished for days only to return with answers no one had asked for.
When the fragments finally formed a picture, they brought it to EEL. He nodded once.
"Good. You have done what was needed. Now the real trial begins."
They entered beneath a marble arch, passes pressed into their palms by EEL himself.
The air inside was heavy.
Perfume clung to the chandeliers. But beneath the sweetness lingered the stench of sweat, the muffled cries, the metallic tang of fear.
The glitter of crystal chandeliers fell against the iron cage bars.
To Ryu, it reeked of blood.
Cages lined the walls. Humans, not objects, are yet paraded as merchandise.
Her stomach twisted. Echo's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened.
"Stay calm," EEL murmured. His gaze swept the crowd. "The target is here."
They spotted him, draped in wealth, face half hidden, eyes colder than stone.
Vesper leaned close, her whisper sharp.
"I'll follow. Do not cause trouble."
Then she was gone, vanishing like smoke.
Ryu and Echo remained seated. The auctioneer's voice rang out.
"Lot twenty-seven. Fourteen years old. Male. Healthy."
A boy was dragged forward. Shackled. Bruised. Terrified. His name is written on the board with his lot number... Caelum.
The tremble in his hands, the hollowness in his eyes, tore something raw inside Echo.
Ryu's jaw tightened, but Echo broke.
The crowd noises dulled to a hum.
Then, through the silence, a voice... soft, desperate.
The present bled into the past.
The smell of damp straw in the cage andthe scrape of iron against his skin.
An auctioneer's hammer striking wood.
The sound of other children crying but going hoarse.
A cage door slamming shut.
And then ... The voices. Faint, desperate, echoing in his head.
"Evan!"
His mother's voice, soft like churros in the rain.
"Evan, don't run away too far, kid!"
His father's voice, fierce and breaking.
His own screams were swallowed by the dark.
The names called for a boy who never escaped. A boy who was dragged away.
And a memory... Captain EEL at his door, a hand extended. A girl's face peeking beside him before vanishing toward a distant noise.
Only now, in this gilded hall, as past and present collided, the howl broke loose.
Echo shook violently. He muttered, then shouted, then howled.
The sound ripped through the hall like a wolf mourning the moon.
Ryu seized his arm. "Echo. Stop."
Too late. The crowd turned. Guards shifted. Buyers murmured in suspicion.
"Damn it," EEL growled, surging forward. He caught Echo by the collar, trying to disguise the outburst as drunken madness.
But the damage was done.
From across the hall, Vesper's head snapped toward the chaos.
Eyes narrowed, tracking the target. Weighing the chaos. Deciding in a heartbeat
"No hesitation."
Blades flashed in the dark.
EEL dragged Echo down before he tore himself apart.
The hall had shifted. Their cover was gone. Their safety and cover were compromised.
And Caelum, still chained on the stage, stared at the crowd in confusion.