The tents blew violently in the relentless wind. The sound blended with the frantic shouts of medics darting from one wounded soldier to another.

  The air carried the scent of blood and smoke, and the heavy atmosphere weighed on Cole like an invisible burden.

  “Wait here,” Rhea said, turning back to him briefly. Her tone was firm, almost mechanical. “Our leader will want to see you.” Without waiting for his reply, she strode off with her group, their black and golden armour glinting faintly in the dim light.

  Cole stayed put, deciding it was better to listen and not make things worse for himself. He glanced around, taking in the scene of organized chaos. Soldiers were being dragged into tents on makeshift stretchers, their cries of pain piercing the air. Others were sharpening weapons or barking out orders, their faces hardened by desperation and exhaustion.

  For a moment, Cole allowed himself to imagine a different scenario, one where he was anywhere but here. He sighed, gripping the handle of his scythe tightly as he shifted his weight uncomfortably. He had promised himself to grow stronger—so what right did he have to possess these idle thoughts?

  The minutes dragged on, each one amplifying the dissonance of the camp around him, until a sudden touch on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts.

  “Cole?”

  His heart leapt as he spun around, his scythe half-drawn before his brain caught up. Standing there, eyebrow raised, was Jake. Relief washed over Cole.

  “Jake?” he asked, his voice rising with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  Jake shrugged, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “I was transported here from the Abyss. Been wandering around trying to figure out what’s going on.” He gestured toward the horizon, where the faint glow of fire painted the sky a hellish red. “What’s with all the chaos? Are we… in a war?” His voice wavered, as though the question itself was too absurd to fully grasp.

  Cole shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the words. “Yeah, apparently. I don’t know much more than you do.”

  Before Jake could reply, the sound of boots crunching on dirt drew their attention. It was Rhea, returning alone, her sharp gaze locking on Cole and Jake.

  “The leader will see you now,” she said, her tone as direct as ever. Her eyes flicked briefly to Jake, appraising him before turning back to Cole. “Both of you.”

  Jake shot Cole a look, one that silently conveyed everything he was feeling: whatever they were about to face, it wasn’t going to be simple.

  They followed Rhea, leaving behind the chaotic mess of the main camp as they moved toward a more secluded area. Ahead of them stood a single, imposing black tent.

  ‘Is everything this faction does drenched in black?’ Cole thought, unable to stop himself. He supposed it made sense for camouflage, but the uniformity was unnerving.

  At the entrance, Rhea stopped and turned to them. “Go in.”

  Cole hesitated for just a moment, his instincts warning him. If Rhea, who radiated strength, was taking orders from someone else, how much stronger was their leader? He stepped forward, Jake trailing close behind.

  Inside, the tent was dimly lit, illuminated only by the flicker of a single candle. A chair sat at the far end, turned away from them, the backrest facing them like some foreboding barrier. A plain table stood before it, its surface bare.

  As they approached, the chair began to turn—agonizingly slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Cole’s nerves frayed with every passing second. He glanced at Jake, whose expression mirrored his own mixture of confusion and unease.

  Finally, the chair completed its dramatic spin, revealing a figure cloaked in a hoodie, their face obscured. The figure clasped their hands, resting them under their chin, elbows propped on the table. When they spoke, the voice was young, but strained, as though attempting to sound deeper than it naturally was.

  “Welcome.”

  The room fell into an awkward silence. Jake and Cole exchanged a side-eye, neither sure how to respond.

  After a moment of hesitation, the figure sighed, releasing their hands and pulling back the hood.

  “Okay, sorry about that,” they said, their tone abruptly lighter. “I thought it’d be cool, you know? Mysterious leader and all that.”

  To their surprise, the figure wasn’t an old general or a grizzled veteran. He was a young man, barely in his twenties, with lazily slicked-back orange hair. A few strands fell rebelliously across his forehead, and his sharp yellow eyes gleamed with a mix of interest and amusement.

  The leader gave a slight grin. “Too much?”

  "Anyways, I haven’t seen you two before. Where did you come from?" The man leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind it casually, one palm holding the other.

  Cole tried to relax. The man seemed friendly enough, but it wasn’t enough to erase the unease knotted in his chest.

  "We’re comrades who got lost," Jake said quickly, glancing at Cole.

  Cole followed his lead. "We tried to escape the war and ended up here."

  The words hung in the air. Even to Cole, their explanation sounded suspicious.

  The man’s gaze lingered on them for several moments that stretched unbearably, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Finally, he said, "I see."

  He raised his hand as if to gesture toward them. Instinctively, both Cole and Jake tensed, bracing for a fight. The man’s hand stopped just short of fully extending, his fingers curling slightly as if holding an invisible thread.

  Then his demeanor shifted. The relaxed air around him evaporated, replaced by an unsettling seriousness. A faint frown tugged at the corners of his lips, and he snapped his fingers.

  Before Cole could process what was happening, the tent’s entrance burst open. Rhea stormed in like a shadow cast by a raging storm, her black blade slicing the air with lethal intent. The sword was aimed straight at Jake’s head.

  "Move!" Cole shouted, but Jake had already reacted, throwing himself to the side. The blade cleaved the space where he’d been standing, embedding itself into the ground with a sickening thud that rattled the table.

  Cole leaped back instinctively, his heart pounding in his chest as he grabbed his scythe from his back. Rhea stood poised in the center of the tent, her movements controlled yet predatory. Her presence filled the room like a storm cloud, suffocating and inescapable. Cole was towards the left and Jake was to his right, the two of them now cornered with Rhea in between. The man at the table sat motionless at the front of the tent, his fingers tapping in that maddening rhythm, as if orchestrating the chaos around him.

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  ‘What the hell is going on?’ Cole’s thoughts raced as his breathing quickened.

  Rhea didn’t give them time to think. She launched herself at Cole, her sword a blur of black steel as it slashed toward him. He twisted his body just in time, the blade missing his chest by inches but grazing his arm. A sharp sting bloomed as blood seeped through the cut.

  She was relentless, each strike faster and more precise than the last. Cole dodged as best he could, but every movement felt slower than it needed to be. Small cuts began to accumulate across his arms and torso, each one a reminder that she wasn’t holding back.

  Jake seized an opening and lunged from behind, his rifle spear aimed for the base of her skull. Rhea moved as though she had anticipated it, tilting her head to the side in a fluid motion. The blade whistled past her ear, harmlessly slicing into the air. Without even looking, she spun, the flat of her blade striking Jake in the ribs and sending him crashing into a nearby chair.

  “Dammit,” Jake muttered, clutching his side.

  Rhea’s eyes flicked back to Cole, and for a moment, it felt like time slowed. She darted toward him again, her strikes so fast they blurred together. Cole barely managed to dodge. He tried using his footwork to angle himself at a better striking position, but Rhea could read his movements.

  Jake rose behind her, blood trickling down his temple. He thrusted his spear toward her again. This time, Cole moved in tandem, flanking her from the opposite side.

  Rhea responded calmly. She ducked beneath Jake’s spear, using the momentum to slide toward Cole. Her blade lashed out in a precise, wide arc. Cole ducked under it, sweat streaming down his face. He swung wildly with his scythe, only for her to catch it on her sword and twist, nearly wrenching it from his grip.

  “Focus!” Jake yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos.

  Cole gritted his teeth, forcing his mind to steady. He took a step back, adjusting his stance. They needed to work together, not as two separate combatants.

  Jake feinted low, and for the first time, Cole saw Rhea hesitate for a fraction of a second. It was enough. Cole pivoted to her side, creating an angle, and attacked straight at her abdomen, causing her to back up for the first time

  Now standing side by side, Cole and Jake faced Rhea, who remained eerily calm despite their combined efforts.

  "This isn’t good," Cole muttered under his breath. They couldn’t beat her, not like this. And the man seated at the table—still tapping his fingers in that infuriating rhythm—like a metronome to this orchestrated fight—was likely even stronger.

  Jake glanced at Cole, his eyes full of worry despite trying to hide it.

  Rhea moved again, faster this time, her sword cutting through the air with deadly precision. Jake was her target, her blade arcing toward his chest in that split second of distraction.

  Without thinking, Cole kicked Jake aside, pushing him away from the strike as he also used his body to propel himself backwards.

  He found himself standing near the man now, their eyes locking for a brief moment. The man’s hand continued to tap on the table, his expression unreadable.

  ‘Should I—?’ Cole considered grabbing the man, using him as a hostage. If Rhea was protecting him, then he had to be important. He could not feel the same strength radiating from Rhea coming from this man. However, Cole knew that couldn’t be the full story. As if sensing his thoughts, the man’s lips twitched into a faint smirk.

  Gritting his teeth, Cole pushed the idea aside. He couldn’t afford to gamble. Instead, he turned his focus back to Rhea, who was now driving Jake further into a corner, as he evaded trying to counterattack with the blade of his rifle-spear whilst maintaining his distance.

  Summoning his essentia, Cole manifested a medium-sized spear in his hand. He wasn’t skilled enough to make it any larger, but it would have to do. He aimed it at Rhea, ready to hurl it to give Jake some breathing room.

  "Stop," the man said suddenly.

  The tapping stopped.

  Rhea halted mid-strike and turned to face the man, giving him a slight nod, as if Jake were no longer a concern—even with her back exposed.

  Just like that, the fight was over.

  The silence returned, heavier than before. Cole’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. This was his chance—he had to convince this bastard to let them live.

  "I thought you looked similar to him," the man said, his gaze fixed on Cole. "And now you’re using that power? Just who are you?"

  The weight of his stare made Cole uneasy. The man’s tone wasn’t just curious—it was almost angry.

  Cole’s mind raced. ‘He doesn’t know what essentia is?’, he realized.

  If this war truly was one from the distant past, as he suspected, there could only be a few instances where the knowledge of the different pathways hadn’t yet woven itself into the fabric of society. The realization gnawed at him—he had to act quickly. He needed to ask the right question or say the right thing to learn more. But he knew there would be no second chances.

  This man wouldn’t wait patiently. If anything, Cole suspected his silence was merely a coiled spring, ready to snap. He could feel the weight of time pressing down, every second an unrelenting reminder that his window to act was closing fast.

  ‘Think, think, think…’ The word hammered through his mind, relentless and desperate.

  And then, like a spark in the darkness, Rhea’s words surfaced in his memory: “The shadow of what came before…”

  Before the man could speak again, Cole seized the opportunity, forcing himself to steady his voice despite the uncertainty threatening to choke him.

  "The power you’re trying to revive," he said carefully, testing each word as though walking a razor-thin edge. "We can help you."

  The man’s expression didn’t shift—it remained as still and impenetrable as a stone wall. Yet something about the room felt heavier, the silence more oppressive.

  The pause stretched longer than Cole was comfortable with, the tension growing until it felt like the air itself might snap. Each heartbeat thundered in his ears, his palms damp with sweat.

  Finally, the man spoke, his voice a quiet but firm command that sliced through the stillness. "Before that… answer my question."

  Cole exhaled slowly, the pressure in his chest easing just slightly, though his body remained tense.

  "I don’t know who you’re talking about," he said, his voice steady but cautious. "But I can tell you about this power."

  ‘Give and take.’ Cole thought to himself, he did not think simple honesty alone would satisfy the man.

  The man tilted his head slightly, his fingers resuming their slow, deliberate tapping against the table. The faint rhythm was maddening, like a clock counting down to something Cole couldn’t see.

  "Go on," the man said, leaning forward just enough to make Cole feel the full weight of his gaze.

  “This power has the ability to create stuff from within my body using the nodes which leak the energy catered to it. It can bring this energy into reality as a construct—known as essentia.”

  The man absorbed the explanation, his tapping slowing slightly.

  "Alright," he said after a moment. His voice carried a finality that sent a chill through Cole. "Here’s what will happen. Tonight, you’ll infiltrate the enemy camp and gather information for us.”

  "If you fail to return, you’re a traitor, and we’ll kill you. If you return empty-handed, you’re a traitor, and we’ll kill you."

  The man leaned back in his chair, his tone slightly regaining its prior ease. "You are dismissed."

  Cole’s body filled with relief, the tension draining away in an instant. He’d never been so glad to hear those words.

  "Rhea, watch them." the man added, "people rarely change, even when given a second chance."

  Cole and Jake left the tent, Rhea trailing close behind them like a shadow. The tension clung to the air, heavy and suffocating, refusing to fade even as they stepped outside. Cole’s heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts racing to piece together the chaos of the last few minutes.

  It had been intense—far more than he was prepared for—but, in a strange way, he found himself thankful for it. The uncertainty that had loomed over them since their arrival had finally crystallized into something tangible. The mystery was gone, replaced by a harsh reality.

  Now, at least, they knew what they’d been dragged into…

  A simulation of The Convergence War.