Bright Morgan stood in the eastern yard at dawn, his new Private insignia still feeling unreal on his chest.
Five silhouettes waited ahead of him—his squad.
His squad.
The weight of that still hadn’t settled.
He inhaled and stepped forward.
They stood in a loose half-circle, each carrying different expressions—doubt, curiosity, irritation, and for two of them... open resentment.
A lance corporal’s voice echoed behind him.
"Private Morgan. Your fledglings. Evaluate them, establish order, then begin your first directive."
Bright nodded.
"Understood."
He walked off, leaving him alone with the five strangers who would now fight, bleed, and maybe die under his command.
The booklet left behind by the lance corporal gave a brief introduction to their quirks and abilities.
But they still introduced themselves in an orderly fashion.
Lira Kehl
At her early twenties. Tall, sharp-eyed, braided hair tied tight behind her.
She was relaxed, but Bright could tell—it wasn’t respect.
It was assessment.
Her speed enhancement ability thrummed faintly around her.
Not Link’s clumsy bursts.
Controlled. Fluid.
When she flicked her dagger, Bright’s perception caught it:
Two strikes in the same motion.
One body. Two hits.
A nightmare for enemy crawlers.
Lira gave him a small nod.
Not to show submission but an acknowledgement of his rank.
Mara Elsen
She was around Bright’s age.
Quiet. Soft-spoken. Barely noticeable as far as he could tell so far.
But Bright felt something strange from her—a stillness.
Her dossier said her Clear Mind ability dampened ambient fear pressure, the unconscious mental attack all crawlers released.
She made everyone around her breathe easier.
Mara glanced at him but didn’t hold his gaze.
She was a bit shy, but not fearful.
Rolf Atteran
He was in his Mid-twenties. Muscular. Arms crossed.
A scowl carved into his face.
Bright sensed his hostility instantly.
He didn’t need danger sense to know:
This one was going to be trouble.
Rolf’s ability core gave him the ability to cast a Fireball.
The ability with the highest destructive force in his squad , but it had control issues that stemmed from negligence from the user; who needs to train when you can spam fireballs at your enemies right.
He knew his ability hit harder than a rookie’s gun.
He also knew Bright was sixteen.
Rolf smirked, waiting for this farce of a play to be over.
Juno Varr
A thin young man of Bright’s age. He was nervous but alert.
From his dossier, bright could tell he had no ability yet.
But Bright noticed—his stance was solid at least , probably won’t shit himself at the first site of some of the monstrosities they were going to face moving on. He gave of this lower budget version of Adam in a way, a thinker.
"Still can’t believe that sadistic nerd’s gonna be an initiate soon" bright thought.
Juno gave Bright a respectful nod.
Fen Reddin
He was older than Bright but younger than Rolf.
Maybe twenty-one.
He had this calm vibe to him and a neutral expression on his face.
There was no hostility detected , no respect. He was just a man observing his superior like the fliers stuck on the notice board when the army makes announcements.
No ability either .
But something about him was grounded, stable.
Fen simply waited.
Bright cleared his throat.
"I’m Bright Morgan," he said. "Private Morgan now. I’ll be your handler moving forward. Our goal is to get all of you to Initiate alive and handle whatever missions we are given efficiently."
He expected silence.
He got a scoff.
Rolf stepped forward, arms still crossed, chest puffed with heat.
"So this is a joke, right?"
Bright didn’t react.
He waited.
Rolf smirked.
"A recruit earns one shiny stripe and suddenly I’m supposed to take orders from a child?"
Lira exhaled through her nose—annoyed, but not at Bright.
At Rolf.
Fen shifted, subtle but defensive.
Mara looked terrified.
Juno glanced between them, unsure.
Bright simply watched Rolf.
From his perception,
Rolf radiated aggression.
A bit of Heat rising from his hands. He was about to attack his superior, although it looked non-lethal, that was still a very stupid thing do.
Most people in the army that were not commissioned officers were seen as expendable, so for a fledgling with little to no say about his next meal to do that was stunning to everyone present.
Bright spoke evenly.
"You have a problem with my rank?"
Rolf snorted. "I have a problem with handing my life to someone who hasn’t even grown a beard."
Bright’s expression didn’t change.
His pulse didn’t spike.
Initiation had ironed out fear responses.
His senses were too sharp now.
"Your last handler was a lance corporal, from what I can see, he ended up all the same, in the belly of a beast". Bright said calmly.
Bright continued, voice calm:
"Rank isn’t age.
Rank isn’t muscle.
Rank isn’t how loud you shout."
He stepped closer.
"Rank is who survived what."
Rolf’s jaw tightened.
He didn’t like that answer.
Bright tilted his head slightly.
"You want a test?"
Rolf grinned. "Finally."
Lira sighed. "Here we go."
Mara whispered, "Please don’t..."
Fen muttered under his breath, "He’s going to regret this."
Bright pointed at the sand ring nearby.
"Inside. You and me."
Rolf flared up instantly. "You’re dead, kid."
Bright stepped into the ring first.
His danger sense whispered again,but it was more of a murmur—
Allowing him to predict where the danger was coming from but it wasn’t really needed, Rolf was too slow for his perception.
"I wonder how he still lives while his squad died ,luck really is a great assistant". Bright thought.
He spoke without turning.
"If you attack with lethal force, I’ll respond with lethal force."
Rolf froze.
The shift in the air was immediate.
The others felt it—
Bright wasn’t bluffing.
He wasn’t posturing.
He had the presence of an Initiate now.
Rolf swallowed his fireball.
Bright turned to face him.
"Good," he said softly. "You’re not stupid."
He stepped out of the ring.
Rolf was left standing there, fists trembling, unsure how he lost without a punch being thrown. His ex squad leader’s presence wasn’t this intimidating.
Bright addressed the squad.
"Listen carefully."
They straightened—some grudgingly, some respectfully.
"None of you have soul talents. That’s normal. That’s most people. But Initiation is possible for all of you."
Five pairs of eyes sharpened.
"You will train until your cores are full. You will fight. You will bleed. You will see things that break people twice your age or my age who knows."
He paused.
"And you will survive. Because I did."
Silence.
Heavy.
Respect forming—slow but real.
Bright finished:
"Now fall in."
They formed a line.
Rolf moved last, jaw tight, silent.
For now, he submitted.
But Bright knew—
This wasn’t over.
Still, when the five stood before him, something clicked into place.
He was their handler.
Their shield.
Their path to Initiation.
Bright Morgan exhaled.
"Training starts now."
The squad braced themselves.
But none of them—not even Bright—understood just how fast everything was about to escalate.