Vale watched the small robot in silence as Chrome stretched, its metallic legs extending one by one with soft clicks and faint whirring noises. The arachnid’s body shifted subtly as internal mechanisms adjusted, polished plates sliding against one another with practiced precision. After a moment, Chrome lifted its lens toward Vale, the faint glow within sharpening.

  “How was your training, Vale?” Chrome asked.

  Vale chuckled quietly as he turned toward his desk and powered on his computer. The screen flickered to life, casting a pale glow across the room. “It was fun,” he said simply.

  He paused, fingers hovering over the desk for a brief moment before adding, “Chimera woke up.”

  Chrome tilted its frame slightly, observing Vale from a different angle. There was a short pause before it replied, entirely unfazed. “Yes. I know.”

  Vale glanced sideways at the robot and rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”

  Chrome always knew. Whether it was internal G.V.O. updates, restricted scientific logs, or high-clearance communications, the robot had an uncanny habit of being informed long before Vale was officially told. Chrome hacked into the organization’s servers frequently, carefully, methodically, and without ever leaving a detectable trace.

  Vale sighed softly and leaned back in his chair. “How was it back at your main station?”

  He had learned some time ago that whenever Chrome went offline, its consciousness returned to a primary hub, what Chrome referred to as its “main station.” According to the robot, it used that time to work on itself. Whatever that meant.

  Chrome’s legs clicked quietly against the wooden surface of the desk as it adjusted its stance. “It was… alright,” it answered.

  Vale raised a brow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, that’s good.”

  He meant it. Chrome was his only true friend, at least, the only one who was always present. Still, Vale couldn’t help but notice how the robot had changed over time. It had once been vibrant, overly expressive, almost eager to emulate humanity. Now, it was calmer. More reserved. Around Vale, it behaved more like a machine than it once had.

  And yet, Vale knew, deep down, that Chrome was not entirely mechanical. Not even close.

  He just couldn’t figure out why.

  As the computer finished loading, Vale pulled up a folder he had been compiling for weeks. The files belonged to one man.

  Tericon.

  Leader of the so-called Tyrant Dynasty, not its official name, but the one history had given it. The true name had long since faded into obscurity, overshadowed by the atrocities associated with its ruler.

  Vale’s expression hardened as he scrolled through the contents.

  Images. Videos. Detailed reports. Psychological profiles. Firsthand testimonies.

  Each file was worse than the last.

  Even knowing what he would find, Vale felt his stomach twist. Still, he forced himself to keep going. If he was going to share this information, he wanted there to be no room for doubt, no possibility that anyone could dismiss Tericon as misunderstood or exaggerated.

  Disgust, he believed, was necessary.

  Hours passed before Vale finally leaned back and closed the computer, exhaustion creeping into his shoulders. Outside, the light had begun to fade, evening settling over Sector Zero.

  He stood, stretched briefly, and left his room, heading toward the cafeteria.

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  Ember followed closely, massive frame moving with surprising quiet through the halls. The ravens flitted along behind them, shadows sliding across walls and ceilings. Ember’s white scales reflected the corridor lights, glowing softly beneath the lamps.

  Vale paused briefly at one of the reinforced windows, gazing out toward Chimera’s mountain.

  From the outside, it looked silent. Dormant. Almost peaceful.

  Vale knew better.

  Inside that mountain slept something extraordinary, something that could become either salvation or catastrophe. The thought lingered uncomfortably before he shook it off and continued toward the cafeteria.

  It was mostly empty when he arrived. Just as he’d planned.

  Now that Ember had grown so large, Vale avoided crowded hours. This way, the wyvern could eat without issue, and the ravens wouldn’t cause panic by existing. The staff was used to them by now.

  As usual, Vale told his companions to get whatever they wanted. Ember no longer needed to share a plate; the chefs brought him entire portions of meat. The ravens had learned to grab their own food, and Illu, true to form, received a generous helping of honey.

  Vale filled his own plate with meat and vegetables. Nothing elaborate. Just fuel.

  He ate quickly, though he liked to believe he did so with a certain degree of grace. In truth, he simply looked like someone who trained too much and ate too fast.

  Ember lay beside the table, devouring his portion with obvious satisfaction. The ravens perched along the edge, tearing into their food with enthusiasm. Vale chuckled softly as he watched Illu happily drowning its beak in honey.

  Eventually, he finished, returned his plate, and headed back to his room.

  A shower washed away the day’s fatigue. He brushed his teeth, removed his armor, and collapsed onto his bed. “Good night, Chrome,” he murmured.

  The room settled into silence.

  Ember curled up beside the bed, resting on a custom blanket designed to expand as needed. The ravens perched along the desk, already asleep. Chrome powered down inside the computer.

  Darkness filled the room.

  Excitement still stirred faintly in Vale’s chest, thoughts of fractures, Chimera, and tomorrow, but exhaustion claimed him quickly.

  And soon, Vale slept.

  Vale awoke slowly, the familiar softness of his bed grounding him before his thoughts fully returned. His eyes opened first, unfocused, and for a moment he remained perfectly still, listening to the quiet hum of Sector Zero beyond the walls. Then a lazy yawn escaped him, and he pushed himself upright, stretching his shoulders as the remnants of sleep loosened their hold.

  He glanced to the side.

  Ember still lay curled within his oversized blanket, massive frame rising and falling with steady breaths. The ravens were awake as well, alert, perched and watching, silent observers as always.

  Vale stepped out of bed and reached for his phone on the desk. The screen lit up as he checked the date, and he scoffed softly, a pleased smile forming almost immediately.

  Tomorrow.

  Tomorrow he would meet Nym and Korin again, for joint training.

  And tomorrow would be his first rematch with Nym.

  A cocky grin spread across his face as he imagined it. He had improved. He knew he had. His control over atum, his speed, his precision, everything had sharpened. This time would be different. This time, he was certain of victory.

  He lingered for a moment, centering himself, letting the excitement settle into focus before moving on with his morning.

  Vale reached for his leather armor and began fastening it piece by piece. His gaze flicked briefly to the obsidian blades resting near the bed, but after a moment’s consideration, he left them where they were.

  A fracture didn’t simply appear without warning. That had never happened.

  And besides, he wouldn’t be facing it alone today.

  He secured the gauntlets and tightened the small metal plates that reinforced the armor’s vital points, methodical and practiced. When he finished, he stepped toward the mirror.

  As always, his reflection was absent.

  His armor, his gear, those were visible. But not him.

  Vale studied the empty space where his face should have been, eyes widening slightly. He had grown used to it, but it still unsettled him at times. He wondered, not for the first time, what he truly looked like now. The mystery lingered, foreign, distant, and unresolved.

  One day, he would solve it.

  A shallow knock echoed against the iron door.

  Vale raised a brow and moved to open it. Standing outside was Evelyn, short, black-haired, clad in dark clothing that seemed to drink in the light. Her eyes flicked over him once, quick and assessing, before she smiled.

  “You seem ready,” she said.

  Vale chuckled, excitement bubbling up into a quiet laugh, but he didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he stepped out and closed the door behind him as Evelyn turned and began walking down the corridor.

  “Let’s go,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder.

  Vale followed without hesitation, anticipation building steadily in his chest.

  They walked for several minutes before reaching the hangar, vast and echoing, filled with vehicles of all sizes and purposes. Evelyn paused briefly, scanning the space, before heading straight for a sleek motorcycle clad entirely in black.

  Vale followed, raising a curious brow.

  As she reached the bike, shadows rippled at her side. From the darkness, Evelyn summoned a helmet, matte black, sharp-lined, and tossed it toward him without looking as she mounted the motorcycle.

  Vale caught it instinctively, staring at the helmet for a moment with a dubious expression.

  Evelyn glanced back at him and smirked.

  “Well?” she asked. “What are you waiting for?”

  She tilted her head slightly.

  “Get on.”