Now, he continued to train daily, sparred against anomalies in simulated environments, and synced even deeper with Aether than anyone expected at a ludicrous rate But for all the drills and intensity, this day started differently.
"Okay," Cael said, slamming both palms on the strategy table in the team's briefing chamber. "We have a crisis."
Leon instinctively reached for his sidearm. "Breach? Core collapse?"
"Worse," Cael said gravely. "Echo's birthday is in three days."
The room went quiet.
Kestra arched a brow. "She has a birthday?"
Ryn, flipping through a flora compendium, didn't look up. "Technically, everyone has one."
"Not necessarily," Vex muttered from the shadows, chewing the end of a protein bar. "She never told anyone when it is."
Leon frowned. "So how do you know it's her birthday?"
Cael beamed. "I accessed the personnel registry. Found the field marked 'Unknown.' Which is exactly why we have to do something. The woman leads us through death storms and reality-bending nightmares. The least we can do is throw a surprise party."
Aros grunted from the corner, lifting a weighted rep bar over his shoulders. "She doesn't like surprises."
"She doesn't like weakness," Kestra corrected. "There's a difference."
Leon leaned forward. "So… what do we get?"
Halden, who had been quietly monitoring inventory metrics from his datapad, looked up. "We could get her new boots. Hers are due for replacement."
"Practical," Cael groaned. "But we need something meaningful."
Leon rubbed his chin. "Has she ever mentioned something she misses? Or something from her past?"
Everyone became silent.
"She doesn't talk about her past," Ryn finally said.
"Because she doesn't know it," Vex added.
Leon looked around. "Wait—what do you mean?"
Kestra closed her eyes briefly. "Echo was found outside a collapse zone when she was fifteen. No ID. No records. No memory. She was raised by Division 10."
"She's been with the system longer than any of us," Halden said. "But she never learned her real name, or her actual birth date. Echo's just the call sign they gave her during her first mission."
Leon absorbed that. "So… this isn't just a celebration. It's something she's never had."
Cael nodded. "Exactly. Which is why it has to be perfect."
The next few days spiraled into chaos.
At first, the team tried traditional methods.
Aros led a squad-wide arm wrestling tournament where the winner would earn the honor of giving Echo the gift. He won. He proposed a titanium-plated gauntlet with reinforced knuckles. No one was surprised.
Cael attempted to build a drone that could mimic anomaly behavior for training simulations. It exploded.
Vex drew a portrait of Echo in minimalist black strokes. It was haunting, accurate… and a little intimidating.
Leon tried a different approach. He combed through records, dug up old reports, and even asked Thorne for classified logs.
"You're not the only one with strange origins," Thorne had told him, glancing at a screen with Echo's earliest records. "But Echo is a unique case. She may not know who she was but she's defined who she is."
At night, Leon sat outside the barracks sketching something in a small black book. He wasn't an artist, but he had something in mind. Something special .
When the morning came on Echo's not-birthday, the base was oddly quiet.
She walked into the atrium to find balloons, poorly hung and badly spelled banners ("HAPPY ESCAPE FROM THE WOMB DAY"), with a cake the size of a weapons crate.
Aros was flipping comic large steaks and skewers on a grill ran with plasma coils.
"Is this… a party?" Echo asked, cold as a Turkey.
"No," Cael said, appearing behind her with a party hat. "It's a mandatory team morale enhancement protocol."
She sighed. "You're all ridiculous."
But she didn't walk away.
In fact, as the sun set, Echo remained sitting beside Vex and Ryn, watching as Leon and Cael lost terribly to Kestra and Halden in holographic miniature attack droid battle . Even Aros joined a round. It was a game Cael invented that involved pitting attack droids in 1v1s against each other and breach entities (after that it just turned into wild flailing).
They laughed. They drank. Leon tried grilled moss-worms and immediately regretted it.
Then, as the party settled and the sky above dimmed, Thorne arrived.
He didn't make a grand entrance. He just walked up with two glasses and set one beside Echo.
She looked up at him in surprise. "You came?"
"You think I'd miss this?" he said, half-smiling. "it may not be your actual birthday, but you gave this team a reason to celebrate."
He raised his glass toward her.
"You are my greatest and proudest success," he said softly. "Family always."
Echo didn't speak, but her eyes softened as she clinked the glass against his.
"Thanks, commander ."
Leon, watching from a distance, smiled.
Then he approached Echo with a small box.
She eyed it. "You know I don't…"
"I know," Leon said. "It's not about your past. It's about today."
She opened it.
Inside was a handcrafted pendant carved from breachstone, smoothed and engraved with her name and rune symbol, partially radiating light.
Leon said. "It's not much but…"
Echo didn't speak for a long moment.
Then, she said softly, "Thank you."
After which all the other team members, gathered to present their own gifts which they had prepared.
Just as the team began cleaning up, Thorne's voice echoed from the upper command deck.
"Unit Valiant, report to the training hall."
Groans erupted from every corner.
"You've got to be kidding," Cael whined.
"Can't it wait until morning?" Ryn asked.
"No," Thorne said, appearing with a datapad. "Because it's that time again."
Everyone froze.
"No," Vex whispered.
"I refuse," Aros muttered.
"Not again," Kestra groaned.
Leon blinked. "What's going on?"
Thorne grinned. "The intra-division training competition. Starts in three days. And you're registered."
Leon blinked. "That doesn't sound so bad…"
"We've lost every cycle," Cael said, flopping dramatically onto a table. "Every single time."
Echo stood. "Which means this cycle, we don't lose."
The team stared at her.
"…You're serious?" Halden asked.
Echo's smile returned. "Dead serious."
Leon looked around
"Well," he said. "Guess we'd better start training."