The mission debriefing chamber was a stark contrast to the chaos of the beast planet. Polished stone walls, cold lighting, and the insignia of the academy etched into the back wall. Jorin stood straight-backed in the center, still wearing the torn, dust-stained uniform from the fight. His body bore fresh cuts, but his voice carried steady as he delivered the report.
"The attack began when a student recklessly cornered a skybeast. The creature gave its death cry before being killed." Jorin's jaw tightened. "That sound drew the flock. Twenty skybeasts descended. I ordered the students to hold back while I engaged."
The officer seated at the head of the chamber, Commander Veylan, leaned forward. He was broad-shouldered, scarred from decades of war, and his eyes flicked with something between disbelief and grim respect. "And yet, every student returned alive?"
Jorin's expression remained unreadable. "Barely. The beasts were coordinated, relentless. I did everything I could to shield them. Some injuries, but no losses."
Commander Veylan exhaled slowly, tapping a finger on the table. "Good. You did well, Jorin. I doubt any other officer would have walked away with that many cadets intact." His tone sharpened. "But don't mistake survival for success. Reports are already spreading. The death cry wasn't normal. Students talked. Questions are being asked."
Jorin stiffened. "Questions from who?"
"The Families," Veylan said simply. The room seemed to grow colder at the word.
The Three Families. The power behind the academy, the backbone of Earth's war machine. Their wealth and influence rivaled nations, and their bloodlines carried some of the strongest powers in existence.
"They want a full account," Veylan continued. "Every detail. Especially Feyla's family. She is one of theirs, and they don't tolerate risk lightly."
Jorin's jaw clenched. He knew what that meant—scrutiny, investigation, and pressure from the highest levels. He had no intention of telling them everything, not about the figure in the dust, not about the weapon glowing red and dripping purple shadows. That secret would stay between him and one boy.
"I'll submit the written report tonight," Jorin said. "The cadets are exhausted. I've ordered two weeks' downtime for recovery before their next rotation."
Veylan gave a curt nod. "Good. Let them rest. They'll need it. And Jorin—" his tone dropped to a warning growl, "—be careful what you leave out. The Families see everything. If they suspect you're hiding something, even I won't be able to protect you."
Jorin inclined his head but said nothing more. He knew the danger, but he had already made his choice. Kael's secret wasn't going into any report.
---
Outside the chamber, the corridors of the academy felt strangely quiet. The students were already settling back into dorms, buzzing with stories, waiting for their two-week reprieve.
Jorin walked alone, the weight of the Families' eyes pressing down on him, already planning how to train Kael harder, faster, before anyone else caught wind of what truly happened on that beast planet.
The game had changed. And the Families would want answers.