Lira's body obeyed, but her mind sharpened.
Each command from Seren, she mirrored. Each blow she received, she absorbed like stone beneath rain—weathered, but not broken.
Kael watched from afar now. They were no longer paired.
That was punishment enough.
By day, Lira trained—faster, harder, crueler. By night, she mapped patterns in whispers, memorized paths guards took when they thought no one was looking. Her cell wasn't a cage. It was a starting line.
And Seren?
Seren praised her progress. "You're evolving."
Lira smiled. "You made me."
It was a lie, of course. She was unmaking herself just to survive. But lies were the only language in this place.
Then came the test.
A new recruit. Weak, lost, trembling. And Seren's voice echoed, honeyed with threat.
"Show her how we train the broken."
Lira stepped forward. The girl looked up, eyes wide.
Lira hesitated—only for a second.
Then her fist flew.
But it didn't break the girl. It shattered something in Lira.
Something human.
Later, under the thin blanket of her cell, she whispered Kael's name to the dark. She'd protected him today. But she had no idea how many pieces of herself she could lose before she became what Seren wanted.