Walking down the aisle adjacent to the wall bordering the Military HQ, Cecilia let out a quiet chuckle.
She remembered questioning the point of the two-meter walls a year and a half ago. Back then, she was sure they wouldn't stop anyone—or anything—determined enough to scale them. But looking back at it now, who in their right mind would infiltrate a place like this?
It'd be like sticking your hand in a lion's mouth and hoping it didn't bite.
Only with time did she understand. The walls weren't meant to keep people out.
They were symbolic. A quiet reminder of how easy it was to walk into the Stellaris Militarium—once you'd made it this far.
Approaching the recruitment center, Cecilia felt a strange twist in her stomach. Déjà vu.
She remembered that night all too well.
The cold. The silence.
The night she lost her entire Imperial Trust Fund—her last tether to her parents.
A charlatan claiming to "see the pathway" to their revival had approached her. His mouth dripped honeyed lies. All he needed was access to the account.
Desperate. Alone. She gambled everything.
And lost.
Shaking her head, she brooded over her own naivety.
"Was I really that stupid back then?"
But that loss had led to the best decision of her life.
At sixteen, her legs had carried her here—running with desperate gusto, driven by hope.
The military.
The only place that offered her a path forward when all else collapsed.
The slogan etched into the recruitment center's facade still echoed in her memory:
"Hope through Fire. Deliverance, if you endure."
They promised discipline, wealth, and honor to those bold enough to turn away from civil comfort—and embrace a life of danger, madness, and death.
Cecilia smiled, bitterly.
The drills. The discipline. The killing.
The camaraderie forged in blood and fire.
Quite frankly, she missed the Anvil.
Damn her, she really missed it.
Even now, the sight of this place stirred something deep and tangled in her gut.
Would Vance feel the same?
Fixing her uniform, she stepped through the open doors.
The lounge inside was nearly empty. A sleepy receptionist sat at the far end.
Before Cecilia could take another step, someone stirred. The receptionist stood abruptly and approached, squinting at the badge on her uniform.
"Good day, Ascendant… Ceci… Cecilia. How may I help?"
Cecilia waved her off with a half-smile. "Where's Tien?"
She glanced around.
"She's on the second floor. Should I call her down?"
"No, I'll go myself."
She headed toward the stairwell without waiting.
"Ms. Ascendant, you can't go up there!"
Cecilia laughed inwardly, her steps slow and measured.
Who here could possibly stop her?
Reaching the second floor, she found a door among several, its nameplate reading:
Tien Glacer
She approached, took a breath, and knocked three times.
A mellow voice answered, exhausted but familiar.
"Come inside."
Cecilia slowly opened the door. A strange feeling twisted in her gut.
It had been a year and a half since she last saw Tien. But somehow, this time felt infinitely longer.
A room of white and brown greeted her—and then, Tien.
Gone were the traces of youth in Tien's amber eyes. Now, they carried the weight of change.
Smiling, Cecilia glanced around.
She wasn't the only one who'd changed.
But she wasn't here just for Vance. Ares could've handled that.
She just needed a moment. A breath away from the killing, the chaos, the desperation.
And the thin line of death.
She yearned for the civil life—and despised most of its people for living it so easily.
Still, there were exceptions.
"How are you, Ti?" she asked.
Her rigid military stance melted as she embraced her old friend.
"If only this moment could last longer," she murmured, tightening the hug.
"Are you planning to kill me, Ceci?" Tien asked, laughing breathlessly.
It felt like being wrapped in iron beams.
"Sorry, sorry. Got a little lost in the moment. Can I sit? We have a lot to talk about. But first, there's this kid—Vance. I was supposed to submit him to Aegis, but… I've grown fond of him. I was hoping you could get him into one of the scholastic institutes programs?"
"Sure. Take a seat. Let me see his application, background, and all that."
"Excellent. Now… let me tell you how it all began."
Cecilia sighed inwardly. She'd told this story at least five times now. A part of her was starting to resent Vance for it.
But every detail might help.
After all, she wasn't even sure if Vance wanted to join the military.
Shifting her posture, she began—this time with a bit more flair.
"At least I'm getting better at storytelling. A win is a win," she muttered with a chuckle.
*******
"So… I just take the pill and step inside?" Vance asked, barely hiding a growl.
Here he was. Naked, weak, terrified. And this creepy doctor wanted him to down a pill while standing in nothing but his underwear?
This had to be a setup. When he got out,
he'd—
"Yes. And don't thrash about when you enter," Shrill interrupted half-heartedly. "It's not a pretty sight, watching grown kids act like babies."
Vance smiled bitterly, then downed the pill dry. No water.
That's right. He was a menace.
Or so he thought.
Seconds later, fatigue slammed into him like a wave. He stumbled, barely making it to Pod-07 before it lowered for his entrance.
The pod began to rise.
As it sealed shut, he fought the darkness clawing at his mind, trying to stay awake—at least long enough to feel the weird fluid wash over his skin.
But the last thing he felt was a sharp pain in his chest.
Right where his heart was.
Then came the sharp, unexpected breath from Shrill—
Just as Vance's eyelids gave out.