"Yo, big bro, wake up! Buddy, did you forget you need to report to the office this morning at 5:00? It's already 4:30, man! You've got only 20 minutes left, wake up!" Izuna called out, shaking Kale awake.

  "Ahh, it's already 4:30?" Kale woke up with a jolt and immediately started preparing himself. "Yo, Izuna, where is the washroom so I can clean up first?"

  "Oh, it's downstairs to the right. Go!"

  "Oh, thanks!" Kale rushed to the washroom, the cold water a shock to his still-aching head. "Guess I hit my head pretty hard last night," he thought. He scrubbed away the grime from the previous day's trials, his mind immediately drifting to his sister. "I wonder how Celeya is doing right now without me. Guess she must be lonely, just like I'm feeling for her right now."

  Izuna, his red hair already neat and his energy boundless, waited outside. "So, are you done, buddy? We don't have much time left."

  "Yeah, just a minute," Kale responded.

  They headed to the Unit office. Outside the door, Izuna clapped Kale on the shoulder. "So, all the best, buddy! You'll find Lady Nymeria inside. I should be heading towards my duty now. See you later!" Izuna said, rushing back toward the lodge.

  "Oh, thank you, Izuna!" Kale called out.

  "No problem!" Izuna waved from a distance.

  Kale pushed the office door open. "May I come in, Ma'am?" he asked.

  "Yes, you're free to come in," Nymeria replied.

  Kale stated his brief personal history—his name, age, lack of education, and his sole responsibility for Celeya—then stood ready. Nymeria simply pushed the mandatory military documents across the table. He signed them quickly.

  "Good. Then you may leave now and wait for me on the training ground," she instructed.

  "Yes, Ma'am!" Kale left instantly.

  Kale quickly found the training ground. When Nymeria arrived, she was accompanied by Izuna and Izume, both looking fresh and energized. Nymeria dropped a heavy, oversized military pack onto the dirt.

  "Your first task is simple, Kale," Nymeria stated, her purple eyes cold. "You will complete the Vanguard Endurance Circuit. It's a 25-kilometer loop through the mountains surrounding the unit. You have four hours."

  Kale's shoulders slumped. 25 kilometers?

  "Before you begin," Nymeria continued, gesturing to the pack. "You will wear this. It weighs fifty kilograms. It is standard load for a simple reconnaissance mission."

  "Ma'am... I... I don't think I can run 25 kilometers without carrying that," Kale admitted.

  Izuna, stretching his red-haired head back, piped up. "Oh, you can totally do it, big bro! Just think of it as a really, really heavy hug!"

  Izume countered, her tone serious. "Izuna is carrying 75 kilograms for his run today.Lady Nymeria is only being generous to you, big bro Kale. If you fail to complete the circuit in the allotted time, you will not eat solid food for three days."

  "Three days?!" Kale choked, the threat of hunger a direct assault on his ability to survive and protect Celeya.

  Kale reluctantly wrestled the pack onto his back. It felt less like a load and more like a massive animal trying to drive his spine through the ground. He stumbled, the heavy canvas hitting his head.

  "Wear the pack, Kale," Nymeria ordered.

  Grit his teeth, Kale dragged his feet to the starting line.

  "Three... Two... One... Go."

  Kale stepped across the line. The weight instantly crushed him, and he managed only a stumbling, painful shuffle into the shadows of the forest.

  Nymeria turned to the twins. "You two. Run the circuit. And bring back Kale when he inevitably collapses."

  Izuna grinned. "Don't worry, my Lady Nymeria! We'll bring him back in one piece!"

  Izume just shook her head, and the twins vanished.

  Kale stumbled through the dense undergrowth, the 50-kilogram pack a suffocating weight. He had covered perhaps two kilometers, and his body was shutting down. He tripped over a root and fell to his knees, the pack slamming him forward.

  I can't do this. I'm going to fail. Three days no food... I'll be useless to Celeya, he thought, despair flooding his system. His arms shook violently as he tried, and failed, to push himself up.

  He heard the faint, easy rhythm of running footsteps approaching—Izuna and Izume were already on their return trip.

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  Suddenly, a flicker of the cold, metallic awareness from the convenience store fight returned. It was a precise, clinical calculation of control. His mind, entirely separated from the screaming pain of his body, analyzed the weight distribution of the pack and the precise tension in his exhausted tendons. The weight is manageable if the kinetic energy is properly transferred from the core to the joints. The thought was alien, yet undeniable.

  With a silent, involuntary roar of savage defiance—the echo of the silver-haired warrior—Kale executed the calculation. He pushed off the ground with a grunt, and instead of collapsing, he found his feet. The pack was no longer crushing; it was perfectly balanced.

  Just then, Izuna, his red hair a flash against the darkness, burst through the trees, running effortlessly.

  "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in! You lasted longer than I thought, big bro!" Izuna chirped, skidding to a halt. He leaned in close, his red eyes sparkling with mock concern. "Don't worry, big bro, we brought a stretcher! Lady Nymeria told us to—"

  Izuna stopped mid-sentence. He noticed the sudden change. Kale was standing straight, the pack perfectly centered, and his brown eyes were fixed ahead. There was a dangerous, cold stillness about him.

  "What?" Izuna say to himself. Kale's voice was low, flat, and entirely devoid of the previous panic. He started running. It was a strong, rhythmic jog—a run that could actually cover 25 kilometers.

  Izuna stared, his mouth hanging open. "Huh? Wait! He's running?!"

  Izume, catching up, observed Kale's retreating figure. "His balance... it's perfect. He shouldn't be able to achieve that posture without years of training."

  Izuna quickly shrugged off his surprise. "Whatever! He's still slow! Come on, Izume! We can't let big bro who is new beat us!"

  Izuna surged forward, but Izume held him back.

  "Wait, Izuna," Izume said softly. "Did you notice? For a fraction of a second, his posture was exactly like Lady Nymeria's. But he collapsed so easily a moment later..."

  Izuna tilted his red head in confusion. "Posture? You're weird, Izume! Come on, let's catch him! My run isn't as fun without big bro in sight!" Izuna dragged Izume forward, and they quickly accelerated past Kale, disappearing instantly into the distance.

  Kale continued his disciplined jog. The feeling of absolute control was fading, but he held onto the perfect balance, focusing entirely on his protective purpose.

  I need to run. I need to get stronger. I need to find Aling and the truth about my father, for Celeya.

  He repeated the mantra until the sky began to lighten, signaling the nearing end of the allotted four hours.

  The sun finally peeked over the jagged mountain peaks, casting long, dusty shadows across the training ground. The allotted four hours were almost up.

  Nymeria stood alone in the clearing, watching the forest edge. She held a stopwatch in one hand, her face as impassive as stone. She fully expected to see Izuna and Izume dragging a broken, blistered Kale back across the line.

  Suddenly, a rhythmic, heavy thudding sound approached. It was the sound of a large weight moving with consistent momentum, not the sound of a collapse.

  With less than a minute remaining on the clock, Kale burst from the tree line. His face was streaked with sweat and dirt, his clothes ripped, and his lungs were on fire, but he was running. He was bent slightly under the weight of the 50-kilogram pack, but his feet moved in a steady, determined rhythm.

  His eyes, dark and bloodshot, were fixed solely on Nymeria. He crossed the designated finish line, staggered three more steps, and then the alien control—the perfect, clinical balance—vanished entirely. The pack became a monstrous anchor again, pulling him down instantly.

  BAM!

  Kale collapsed, hitting the ground face-first with a dull thud, the pack pinning him to the earth like a beetle. He didn't move.

  Nymeria looked down at him, then glanced at the stopwatch. 3 hours, 58 minutes, 11 seconds. He had finished with barely a minute and a half to spare.

  Izuna and Izume appeared a moment later, jogging in casually with their own heavier packs, barely winded.

  "Yo! Did he make it, Lady Nymeria? Did our weak Idiot big bro actually finish?" Izuna asked, then clamped his hand over his mouth when he remembered he was talking to his Captain.

  Nymeria didn't react to Izuna's slip-up. She walked over to Kale, still pinned beneath the pack. She kicked the pack gently, just enough to make it shift.

  "Get up, Private Kale," she commanded.

  Kale managed a weak, guttural groan. He tried to push the pack off, but his arms, now cut off from the subconscious warrior power, were useless.

  Nymeria crouched down. Her dark purple eyes, usually cold, held a flicker of intense, professional curiosity.

  "You should have failed at the three-kilometer mark," she stated, her voice quiet but piercing. "A normal human with your conditioning cannot maintain that posture for a full 25 kilometers, regardless of motivation."

  She reached out, placed one hand on the pack, and lifted the 50-kilogram load off Kale's back as easily as picking up a feather. She tossed it aside without effort.

  Kale immediately curled onto his side, sucking in deep, painful breaths.

  "I need to know what you did," Nymeria demanded. "Tell me exactly how you managed the load between the three-kilometer mark and the finish line."

  Kale coughed, tasting dirt. The shame of his poverty and lack of formal training surfaced. "Ma'am... I... I just concentrated on not falling. I had to finish. I can't... I can't lose the chance to protect my sister."

  Nymeria stared into his eyes, searching for a lie, for a conscious technique, but found only exhaustion and stubborn human willpower.

  He doesn't know what he did, she thought, her lips tightening. He accessed it by accident, but he doesn't have the conscious control to hold it.

  She stood up. "Take him back to the lodge, Izume. Get him water and a high-protein ration. He will report to the training ground at 100 hours."

  Izuna, amazed, pointed a finger at the pack. "Wait! He gets the high-protein rations? So he passed?"

  Nymeria gave a small, almost undetectable smirk—the first hint of approval Kale had seen.

  "He exceeded the physical capabilities of a civilian recruit," she stated simply. "He proved that Captain Vergo's assessment of his potential was correct." She looked at Izuna. "As for you, Private Izuna, the use of the term 'weak Idiot' on a fellow soldier, regardless of the context, will earn you three extra laps tomorrow."

  Izuna's red hair seemed to droop. "Aww, come on, Lady Nymeria! It was just a term of endearment!"

  Izume, ignoring her brother's whining, walked over to Kale, crouched down, and gently helped him sit up. "Come on, big brother," she said softly. "Let's get you some food."

  Kale looked at the sun, then at the lodge, and finally at Izume's kind, serious face. He had survived the first test. He was closer to finding his truth. But the warrior was lurking just beneath his skin, waiting for the next moment of crisis.