The first light of dawn sifted softly through the lattice of leaves above the Chief's hut. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and blooming nightflowers. Tharen sat cross-legged on a carved wooden bench, unsealing a scroll sealed with the Elder's emblem — a twisting lunar crescent entwined with ancient runes.
His fingers hesitated briefly over the parchment before breaking the wax. Inside, the neat, deliberate handwriting of Elder Yaro spilled out in formal Felyari script.
"To Tharen, Chief of the Felyari Tribe, I must apologise for the disturbances caused recently at my residence. The lunar energies have been… volatile, and I regret the chaos that ensued.Given the unusual nature of your daughter Nyra's gifts and the peculiar events surrounding her, I recommend she join the Black Squad for training. Their methods are rigorous but necessary. She must sharpen her instincts and master her self-defence to face the dangers that loom beyond our forest. Trust in the lunar goddess and in your bloodline's strength.In solidarity, Elder Yaro"
Tharen sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctant acceptance tightening his jaw. He could imagine the elder's face, tongue out and holding his two furry fingers above, gesturing the peace sign. "That old troublemaker… sending me letters like he's ordering me around. What's next, demanding I clean his residence after the last 'storm'?"
Selya, sitting quietly nearby, weaving healing herbs, glanced up with a small smile. "He means well, Tharen. And Nyra… she needs this. You know the signs."
Tharen looked over at his daughter, who sat quietly, eyes distant yet steady. Nyra's calm was unsettling, as if she'd anticipated this moment long before the letter arrived.
KAIROS's soft, mechanical hum broke the silence. "This is an opportunity, Nyra. A chance to observe, learn, and adapt beyond your current limits."
Nyra's lips curled in a faint smile. "Then I won't waste it, KAIROS."
Selya reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Nyra's face. "We'll support you, my little Architect. But be careful. The Black Squad's training is not for the faint of heart."
Tharen folded the letter with finality. "Prepare yourself. The tribe's safety may depend on it."
The Next day, the sun had barely risen when a faint but deliberate thudding echoed through the clearing outside the chief's hut. Nyra stood up in front of her parents and sisters, tensed, her tail flicking nervously.
Outside, from the shadows of the towering ancient trees emerged a group clad in midnight-black leather armour, their faces half-covered with sleek masks that only revealed sharp, alert eyes. This was the Black Squad—elite warriors known for their lethal precision and ruthless training.
Their leader, a tall, lithe figure with piercing silver eyes, stepped forward and bowed with calculated grace. "Nyra of the Felyari," he said in a low, respectful voice, "The Elder's summons was clear. You will join us for training. It will test your instincts and push your limits. Are you ready?"
Nyra met his gaze steadily. "I am. I won't disappoint."
Behind her, Tharen's protective gaze softened with pride and a hint of concern. Selya's fingers tightened briefly on the healing beads around her neck.
The leader nodded once, sharp as a blade. "Good. Then follow us. The forest itself will be your first teacher."
As the squad melted back into the shadows, Nyra took a deep breath, her blue eyes flickering with a faint electric glow. KAIROS's whisper in her mind was steady and calm.
This is just the beginning. Trust your instincts.
The training grounds of the Black Squad weren't fields or arenas — they were the forest itself. Wild. Untamed. Alive.
Nyra followed the squad deep into the densest part of Ael'myra, where even sunlight seemed hesitant to pierce the canopy. Roots curled like serpents, and the scent of damp moss clung to the air. The silence was heavy, not with peace, but with expectation.
The squad leader — now identified as Raik, silent as the wind — turned to Nyra without preamble. "Strip away what you know," he said, voice a sharp whisper. "You are not a daughter of chiefs here. You are prey."
Before she could respond, a black blur crashed toward her from the shadows.
Nyra's instincts kicked in. Her ears flattened, tail bristling. She ducked low, the attack grazing her shoulder. Another figure leapt from the trees — she spun, claws unsheathed, but the strike was a feint. A third came at her back.
KAIROS activated.
"Reflexes accelerating. Threat pattern detected: pincer manoeuvre."
She rolled, twisted through the air, and landed on all fours, panting. Her body trembled with adrenaline. One of the assailants, a lithe female with red stripes under her eyes, grinned.
"Not bad for a kitten," she said, then vanished again into the shadows.
Raik observed with no change in expression. "Lesson One," he said. "The world will not wait for you to grow. So either learn… or bleed."
And learn she did.
The next hour was chaos. She was hunted, cornered, forced to evade, counter, and think in the moment. KAIROS helped — but only when she wasn't panicking. Her vision blurred. Her limbs ached. Her breath burned. Yet each time she was knocked down, she rose again. Harder. Smarter.
Finally, bleeding from a gash above her eye and covered in grime, Nyra stood her ground, chest heaving. No more running. When the next figure lunged, she didn't dodge. She read the rhythm. Sidestepped. Hooked her tail around their ankle and sent them crashing into the underbrush.
Silence followed. Then the squad members emerged, nodding in approval.
Raik spoke once more. "Lesson Two. Instinct is not raw. It's forged."
He handed her a canteen. Nyra drank, hands shaking. Blood, sweat, dirt—it all tasted like something new: purpose.
KAIROS murmured in her thoughts: "You adapted faster than anticipated. Eira would have tried to optimise the terrain. Nyra survived it."
She smiled faintly through the pain.
"Damn right I did."
The moon hung low, silver and solemn, casting ghost-light through the veil of Ael'myra's canopy. The Black Squad had long since dispersed into their separate night camps, blending into the shadows like they were born from them.
Nyra sat alone near a shallow stream, her reflection barely visible in the rippling surface. The forest pulsed gently with nocturnal life — soft chitters, distant howls, and the low hum of Essentia in the air. She dipped her fingers into the cool water, watching the blood and sweat swirl away like ink.
Her body ached. Every joint screamed, every muscle trembled, but it was the weight behind her eyes-the weight of knowing-that truly hurt.
I am not just Nyra. I am the echo of Eira. A ghost wearing a kitten's skin.
KAIROS, usually quick to comment, was silent. Respectfully so.
"Why here?" she muttered aloud. "Why not just let me die back there in the lab? Why Lunareth?"
KAIROS's voice finally returned, low and almost… hesitant.
"Because you're not finished."
She scoffed. "With what? Dying?"
"Creating."
Before she could ask what that meant, a rustle behind her sent her into a crouch. A shadow emerged — Vaen, one of the Black Squad twins with sharp eyes and sharper instincts. He held a wrapped bundle.
"Relax, kitten. I'm not here to spar," he said, tossing the bundle beside her. "Food. Don't die of starvation before tomorrow. Would hurt our reputation."
Nyra unwrapped it — smoked root meat and honeyfruit slices. Basic, but warm. She nodded in silent thanks.
Vaen didn't leave. Instead, he looked up at the moonlight filtering through the trees.
"You fought hard today. Not just with claws, but with something deeper. That earns respect, even if Raik won't say it."
Nyra chewed slowly, staring into the woods. "I'm not here for respect. I'm here to make sure I'm never helpless again."
Vaen's gaze flicked toward her, unreadable. "Good. Because tomorrow, the real training starts."
He turned and melted into the darkness like a ghost.
As Nyra finished eating, she glanced at her reflection again. This time, it shimmered — just for a second — not as her current self, but as Eira, eyes bright with ambition, hair matted with blood.
She blinked, and it was gone.
KAIROS whispered again, softer now.
"The system anomaly grows… You felt it too, didn't you?"
She nodded to no one, eyes narrowing.
Something was watching.
Something old.