**The Weight of Choice** The afternoon sun bled through the canopy of ancient oaks, dappling the recruits' faces with shifting patterns of light and shadow. Guann stood before them, his silhouette cutting a sharp line against the rustling leaves. The air hummed with the scent of damp earth and the metallic tang of nervous sweat.

  "Listen carefully," he began, his voice a bde sheathed in velvet. "Your training has two paths." He held up a single finger. "First: Here, at Vennos, under Sisi's supervision." A second finger joined the first. "Or *Hedel Isnd*—where one year passes for every day on the mainnd."

  A murmur rippled through the group. *Haruko*—her fingers already twitching toward the twin daggers at her belt—leaned forward. "So we could gain years of experience in *days*?"

  Guann nodded, but his eyes darkened. "At a cost. Your *lifespan* burns faster there. A year on Hedel is a year stolen from your final breath."

  *Ilen* scowled, his aristocratic nose wrinkling. "What kind of nonsense—"

  "It means," *Tiffany* cut in, examining her cquered nails, "if you're destined to die at eighty, and spend *one* Hedel-year training, you'll now die at seventy-nine. Try to keep up."

  Ilen's face flushed crimson, but Guann continued as if the exchange hadn't occurred. "Choose wisely. Those opting for Hedel—step forward."

  A beat of silence. Then—

  *Ilen* and *Hill* moved as one, their boots scraping against the gravel. *Naya* gnced at *Qin Hong*, who remained rooted, his mirrored sungsses hiding the scars beneath. She stayed put. *Tiffany* hesitated, her gaze flickering between the group, before *Janis*, *Merkel*, and *Jack* finally stepped forward.

  Guann's lips thinned. "The rest—report to Sisi. Qin Hong, remain."

  As the others dispersed, Guann closed the distance between them. The scent of ozone clung to him—a side effect of his spatial maniputions. "You know your role?"

  Qin Hong adjusted his gsses, the lenses fshing opaque for a heartbeat. "Hedel's drill instructor."

  "Three months, mainnd time. Don't forget your *other* mission." A weighted pause. Then Guann turned to the chosen six, his voice carving through the clearing: "On Hedel, Qin Hong leads. Disobey him, and the isnd's fauna will save me the trouble of burying you."

  #### **The Threshold of Time** The corridor to Hedel's gate was a spiraling monstrosity of bck stone, its walls etched with runes that pulsed like sluggish hearts. As they ascended, the air grew thick with the scent of aged parchment and something darker—*sulfur*?

  Then the stones *moved*.

  A face coalesced from the masonry—*Sutton*, his granite features cracking into a grin. "Qin Hong! Back from the dead, I see!"

  Behind them, *Jack* choked. "What the *hell*—"

  Qin Hong tapped his sungsses. "Eyes are... adjusting."

  Sutton's ugh sent dust shivering from the ceiling. "And they say *I'm* hard to kill! Heard you took down Dick the Bombardier solo. Impressive!"

  Before Qin Hong could respond, *Jack* sneered: "Yeah, *real* impressive. Now we're stuck with a half-blind cripple as—"

  "*Jack*," *Hill* murmured, her voice sweet as poisoned honey. "Do shut up."

  Sutton's chuckle deepened. "Ah, youth! Well then—off to glory!" The gate yawned open, revealing a vortex of emerald light.

  *Jack* shoved past Qin Hong, vanishing into the glow. The others followed—*Janis* with a nervous gulp, *Merkel* practically vibrating with excitement. As Qin Hong stepped through, he called over his shoulder: "Three months. Wake me."

  #### **The Isnd of Forgotten Time** The first thing that struck them was the *smell*—loam and rotting fruit, the iron-rich stench of something recently killed. The second was the *sound*: Two titans locked in battle.

  A *Stormgoril*, its silver fur crackling with electricity, backhanded a *Ragefang Lion* into a sequoia. The tree exploded into splinters.

  "Welcome to Hedel," Qin Hong said dryly.

  The ndscape was unrecognizable. Where there had been meadows, jagged crystal spires now jutted from the earth. The river they'd once fished from had become a churning cauldron of acid-green liquid.

  *Time moves differently here*, Qin Hong reminded himself. *In every way.*

  With a flick of his wrist, he tore open a *spatial seam*, depositing the group before a vine-choked cabin. The wooden porch had colpsed, and the once-proud oak beside it was now a petrified skeleton.

  "Home sweet home," he muttered, kicking the door open. Dust mushroomed into the air, revealing a main room frozen in decay—a chessboard mid-game on the table, mugs of long-evaporated tea, a single leather glove resting on the hearth.

  "Ground rules," Qin Hong said, turning to face them. "First floor and study are *off-limits*. That's Guann's space."

  *Jack* folded his arms. "And if I *want* to sleep there?"

  Qin Hong didn't blink. "Then you'd better pray you wake up before *he* does."

  *Hill*'s fingers twitched—a subtle threat. *Jack* backed down.

  "Your priority," Qin Hong continued, "is awakening your *Absolute Domains*. This isnd will test you in ways Vennos never could. Follow my orders, or die. Understood?"

  Silence.

  "Good. First task—*Jack*." He pointed to the serpentine vines crushing the roof. "Clear those."

  *Jack*'s fist connected with Qin Hong's colr before the sentence ended. "You *dare*—"

  Then his own hands *betrayed* him.

  *Sp. Sp. SLAP.*

  *Hill* stood motionless, her fingers dancing an invisible waltz. *Jack*'s cheeks reddened under the self-inflicted blows.

  *Janis* lunged forward. "Stop! I'll do the vines—*just make her stop!*"

  Qin Hong sighed. This would be a *long* three months.