The next morning, the room was still dim, the world outside caught in that quiet hour just before sunrise.
A pale light seeped faintly through the shutters, enough to blur the edges of shadow but not yet strong enough to chase them away.
Li stretched and yawned, his voice carrying carelessly through the stillness.
He finished tying his training uniform, moving with the slow ease of someone who never rushed for anything. His eyes flicked toward Erik's bed, where the boy shifted restlessly beneath his blanket, his face tense, breath uneven.
Nightmares. Again.
Across the room, Feng sat upright on his bed, already dressed neatly, a slim book resting open in his hands. His back was against the wall, posture straight, as though discipline came as naturally as breathing. He looked up briefly from the page, his gaze calm but curious.
"Is he having another nightmare?" Feng asked quietly, his voice steady, almost clinical.
Li smirked, rolling his shoulders as if the question hardly needed answering. "Yeah" He said with a half-laugh, stepping over and giving Erik's shoulder a shake.
Suddenly, Erik jerked upright in his bed, a shout tearing from his throat.
"NO!"
His hands shot out on instinct, clamping around Li's wrist with a grip like iron. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his chest heaving as if he'd just been pulled from drowning.
Li winced, his face twisting as the pressure tightened. "Ouch..Easy, man!" He said, his tone playful but edged with genuine pain. "I need that wrist, you know."
Erik blinked hard, his vision clearing, and instantly realized what he was doing. He released Li's arm at once, pulling his hands back afraid of breaking the boy bones inadvertently.
"Ugh…" Erik groaned, dragging himself to sit at the edge of the bed. He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to push away the fog of sleep and the scraps of the nightmare still clinging to him.
Across from him, Li rubbed his wrist with exaggerated care, smirking even as he winced. "Damn, I might need to be more careful waking you up." He said, shaking his head. "Keep this up and I'll lose an arm before breakfast."
Feng, still seated against the wall with his book half-open, arched one eyebrow at the remark. His voice came calm, even, but edged with quiet rebuke. "Hmph.. I already told you to stop waking him up."
Li shot him a sideways look, unbothered. "What.. And let him sleep till noon and then get beat up by the instructor? No. Besides…" He grinned, tapping his temple. "If I can't survive a little wrist-lock in the morning, how am I gonna survive the training ground?"
"You treat everything like a game." Feng replied, tone clipped.
"And yet" Li countered smoothly, raising both hands as if to prove his point. "I'm still here. Maybe you should try it sometime, Mr. Serious."
Feng's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he returned to his book, flipping a page without a word.
The corner of Li's mouth curled upward in satisfaction before he looked back at Erik. "See? He doesn't get it."
Erik finally dropped his hands from his face, his expression settling into its usual cold calm. "My bad." He said simply, his voice flat, without inflection.
Li waved him off, still smirking. "Forget it. Just remember, next time I'm coming with armor."
A rare grin tugged at Erik's lips. Quick, sharp, and gone almost as soon as it appeared.
He gave Li a small nod, then pushed himself to his feet and made his way toward the bathroom.
The water was cold at first, biting against his skin, but he welcomed it. He let the stream run over him, washing away the sweat from the nightmare, and the dried traces of dust and blood from the days before. By the time he stepped out, his mind felt clearer, sharper.
He dried off and pulled on a clean training uniform, the fabric stiff but familiar against his frame. Adjusting the collar, he caught his reflection briefly in the polished bronze mirror, his eyes hard, unreadable.
When he had first arrived at the Ten Rings, they had placed him here—in a shared room with three other children.
Li, 11 years old, also known as Death Dealer. Carefree, mischievous, but far from careless.
Then there was Feng, the eldest at 12, disciplined and serious to a fault.
And finally, Midnight, also 11, quiet and shadow-like, always watching more than speaking.
Three boys. Three paths.
And him, Who just turned 10 years old. The youngest among them.
After washing away the sweat and dust, Erik stepped into the mess hall alongside Li and Feng. The long chamber was already alive with noise.. The scrape of bowls and chopsticks, the murmur of conversation, the clatter of boots against stone. Dozens of Ten Rings operatives filled the room. Veterans with lined faces and cold eyes sat shoulder to shoulder with fresh recruits barely older than Erik, all gathered under the same banner.
The three boys moved with practiced ease, collecting their plates from the serving counter. The steam of hot rice and broth rose into the cool morning air, the smell sharp but filling.
As they turned to scan the room, Erik spotted Midnight sitting alone at their usual table. The boy was tucked in the far corner, his posture relaxed, gaze lowered, as if the crowd around him barely existed.
"Li tilted his head in that direction, ready to lead the way—when an arm suddenly draped over his shoulder, the other settling firmly on Erik's.
A young man, taller and older by several years, stood between them. He was Sixteen years old, broad-shouldered, with a round face and an easy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Morning, little brothers." Gao Lei greeted smoothly, his tone warm on the surface. "You've been training hard, I can see it. Very promising, all of you.. Why not sit with me today?" He gestured toward a table nearer the center, where a group of older trainees sat eating in silence, occasionally glancing over with faint interest. "You'll learn more surrounded by those with experience. Who knows.. Stick close and I might teach you boys a thing or two myself."
Li smirked, tilting his head lazily. "Appreciate the offer, big brother, but we've already got a spot." He nodded toward the far corner. "Wouldn't be right to keep Midnight waiting."
Feng gave a small bow of his head, polite but firm. "Thank you for the invitation. Perhaps another time."
Erik said nothing. He met Gao Lei's eyes for the briefest moment, then brushed the man's hand from his shoulder with calm finality. Turning, he walked toward Midnight's table without a word.
Li and Feng followed, plates in hand.
Behind them, Gao Lei's smile lingered for a heartbeat longer before it cracked at the edges. His jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed on their backs.
For a flicker of a second, the warmth in his expression vanished, replaced by cold frustration.. Then, just as quickly, the mask of joyfulness returned.
The three boys crossed the mess hall and slipped into their usual corner.
Midnight sat waiting, silent as always, a black mask covering his face. As they approached, he gave the smallest nod in greeting.
"What up" Erik said simply, setting his tray down.
Li flopped onto the bench with a grin. "There he is, our mysterious shadow."
Midnight lifted his black mask just enough to slip a mouthful of rice beneath it, then lowered it back into place without a word.
Feng watched him for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I've always wondered… Why not take the mask off while you eat? It's disgusting you know.." His tone wasn't mocking, just curious, straightforward.
Midnight's eyes flicked up briefly, then back down to his food. "Because it's not meant to be taken off." He said quietly, voice muffled behind it.
Li chuckled, shaking his head. "Not even for a bowl of soup? Come on, man. What if you choke in there? You gonna haunt us still wearing that thing?"
Midnight's gaze shifted to him, steady and unblinking, before returning to his tray. "Then at least you'll be stuck looking at it forever."
Li laughed out loud, clapping his hands once. "See? That's commitment. Mask on twenty-four-seven. Even ghosts gotta keep their image."
Erik smirked faintly at the exchange, while Feng only sighed, returning to his food. "Ridiculous." He muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite behind it.
The four of them settled into their quiet corner, the mess hall noise buzzing around them, but at their table, it felt almost like its own world.
They continued to eat, Li cracking jokes between bites, Feng correcting him with his usual dry remarks and Midnight saying little beyond the occasional clipped answer.
It was an easy rhythm, one they'd fallen into over months of living and training together.
But Erik's attention drifted elsewhere. As he chewed his food, his eyes moved around the hall, studying the rows of operatives in their uniforms, the quiet efficiency of men and women who barely spoke while they ate.
Four months here… And I've learned some more about this place.
The Ten Rings weren't just a small hidden group, or some mountain cult locked away from the world. They were everywhere. A global organization with roots sunk deep across every continent, agents planted in cities and governments like weeds too old to pull.
Almost none of them, however, would ever set foot here. This place was not for just anyone.
Only Xu Wenwu's most trusted men, the inner circle, were ever brought and allowed to stay into these mountains.
From time to time, children with rare talent were also taken in—raised and forged into weapons. But those were the exceptions, not the rule.
The truth? Erik mused, his eyes narrowing. Most of the Ten Rings operatives out there had no idea who they truly served. To them, their leader past was shrouded in mystery. He was a legend. An ancient warrior-king that has inspired generations of men since the Middle Ages. A myth passed down through whispers.
Erik let his gaze fall briefly toward the grand doors at the far end of the hall.
And only those of us here… Only the few… Were aware that he actually really existed.
As the noise of the hall carried on around him, Erik kept turning the thoughts over in his mind. Even here, in the heart of the Ten Rings, most operatives knew almost nothing about the man who led them.
He'd overheard whispers in the barracks and training yards.. How their leader had lived for centuries, how he had never aged while empires rose and fell.
The story passed from mouth to mouth was largely the same: Xu Wenwu had been empowered by an Elixir of Life, a mythical potion said to prolong existence beyond natural limits.
Some believed it. Some swore by it. Others dismissed it outright.
But Erik knew the truth.
It wasn't some potion, some miracle drink born of alchemy or legend. It was the rings.
The ten mystical bands that clung to Xu Wenwu's arms like extensions of himself.
They were the source, the anchor that kept age from touching him.
The Elixir of Life… Erik thought, his lips tightening as he stabbed another piece of food with his chopsticks.
That's just a story. Maybe one he let them tell themselves.
A rumor, crafted or at least allowed, to keep eyes away from the truth.
Erik's expression stayed calm, unreadable, as he took another bite. Outwardly, he was just another boy eating breakfast with his companions.
But he knew. And one day, he would claim them for himself..