We left with Silas. Idas was lurking somewhere behind. The chill emanating from Evadne contrasted sharply with my burning body. The furnace inside me grew hotter with every turn as we navigated the Temple's maze. Step after step my body became heavier and distant.

  I lost track of time before we finally reached our goal. The air was cold, the sky ashen, the sun hidden from us.

  But the market was lively. People were busy with their daily lives. A child ran giggling with an apple, her skin pale and clothes like a beggar's. The stalls had fruits and vegetables I recognized.

  Potatoes, strangely large but surely potatoes. Onion, cucumber, each with some twist: different color, shape, or size. But some were completely unknown to me.

  A flower with rich, thick petals that the seller insisted were sweet and helped with memory? A large stalk, the size of a cucumber, with small leaves? Curiosity pulled me from stall to stall. I tried most of the things there.

  Just a tiny bite, before I had to spit it out under Evadne's half-serious, half-worried glare.

  Everything on my path ended up in my mouth.

  Except bugs. They were literally eating bugs. Cockroaches. Worm-like 'appetizers' on sticks, which Evadne devoured like crazy. When I saw her enthusiasm I had to resist the urge to puke.

  She couldn't help but laugh seeing my face twisted in disgust. Her smile made my chest lighter and I welcomed how the tension eased between us.

  For the first time since reading Ariadne's letter, Evadne looked at me without that careful blankness in her eyes. The distance that had stretched between us—professional, cold, protective—had cracked. Not shattered, but cracked enough for warmth to leak through.

  I didn't know what to say. Apologizing would acknowledge there was something to apologize for, but I did nothing wrong. But the letter. The "weekly leisure." She was mad, that I knew. But the reason was unclear to me. Or maybe I knew the answer deep down, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

  So instead, I let her laugh. Let the moment stretch. Let the absurdity of a High Priestess enthusiastically eating cockroaches while a "Saint" tried not to vomit bridge the gap that words couldn't.

  She noticed me watching her. For a moment, her smile faltered—uncertainty flickering across her face. Then she deliberately took another bug from the vendor and bit into it with exaggerated relish, eyes locked on mine in challenge.

  I groaned. She laughed harder.

  It seemed she couldn't be mad at me. At least not for too long.

  "Still... bugs?" I asked with my face twisted as if I just ate basket of lemons.

  "Food shortage," she explained. "We treat everything edible with respect here." She gestured at the bug vendors with no shame. "Even... even bugs."

  "What about other kingdoms?" I asked.

  Surprise and confusion painted her face, "There are no other kingdoms, Leonard. Only us, the Kingdom of Humanity."

  Her words were eating into my brain, dissolving my thoughts. World that I knew, world that I imagined, cracked. One kingdom? Only one? On the whole world? What the hell happened...

  "How is that possible?" I shook my head, something unpleasant lingered beneath my consciousness, and I tried to push it away.

  "After the War of Gods, people vanished from this land, Leonard." She spoke as if it was the obvious truth.

  My brain snapped. Flashes of lost information ran through my head. Thirty Years' War, 8 million. Great War, 38 million. Second World War, 85 million. Each conflict with better ways to kill people. More efficient.

  If people were that good at killing, then what would the War of Gods look like?

  "Tell me about this War of Gods," I asked, when we were back in the Temple.

  "Leonard..." She deflected my question with a sad smile, "It's... in the past. We should focus on the future. On your training. On our war for survival."

  I hesitated. Partially, she was right. Yet despite my desire to go home, I grew curious about this world. "Look, Leonidas is waiting for us. I promise I'll tell you this sad story one day." She winked, but there was no energy in it.

  "I can tell you everything about it, Leonard." Althea chimed in.

  "I want to hear it from Evadne," I replied quietly in my mother tongue.

  "I can tell you better, I know better, I remember every detail, Leonard." Althea replied - offended.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Enough." I just said. Leonidas summoned me by waving his massive hand with vigor. I didn't want him to wait. I didn't want to argue with Althea about Evadne.

  "Ah, finally my turn to play with the Street Cat!" Leonidas slammed his sides with a loud chuckle.

  "Saint Leonard," Evadne insisted. "Yes, yes," Leonidas dismissed her with a wave of his hand. But when he noticed Evadne's stern eyes he grunted. He straightened. Then bowed deeply, "Forgive me, High Priestess, but there's no need to be so tense. The ordeal ahead of us will weigh heavily. I just wanted to lighten up the mood before this so-called 'training'."

  Evadne remained silent. She was so serious about this 'Saint' stuff it was sometimes irritating. Leonidas was right. There was no need for stiffness. Still, I was shocked. Leonidas was serious for the first time I had seen him. Even if just for a moment, that was something unexpected.

  I didn't know if he was that good at reading people. If he knew that his jokes were brief moments where I could pretend my life was fine, and normal. Or if he was just a lousy, funny guy. I didn't care. I played along with it.

  "Alright, so what kind of torture am I going to experience today?" I glanced at Silas, trying to decipher his posture. Did he get the joke? Probably not. But Leonidas did.

  "Ha! I'm glad you asked." Leonidas's cheerful tone returned. "Today we're going to jump a little."

  "That sounds like fun! You first, Leonidas." I jerked a thumb at Evadne. "High Priestess, give him the potions."

  She gave me that one look that screamed "Are you crazy?".

  I held her eyes until she realized I'm joking. It took a while, but was worth it.

  "Fine, let's begin," I said aiming for casual while taking the vials. But my voice betrayed me, faltered.

  And we began. That damn helmet was back again. Level four. Eight kilos. Fever eased. Ants tried to raise an anthill within my body. And I was jumping off the small platform with three stairs. On my bare feet.

  The platform was knee-high. Two days ago, that would have been impossible. Two days ago, I was just walking down the stairs. That ended with collapse. Now I was climbing up a few stairs and jumping from a platform, landing with force that exploded within me.

  What have they done to me?

  The catalyst had integrated enough that my structure—that's what they called it, my "structure," as if I was a building being renovated—could handle impacts that before would break me. But the pain hadn't decreased. If anything, it had refined itself. Less dull ache, more surgical precision. Every nerve ending mapped and catalogued, ready to report damage in excruciating detail.

  Progress meant I could endure worse. Not that anything hurt less.

  At first, with each landing, Leonidas corrected my posture. When the shockwave going up my body began to crack my bones apart, he promised me beer for each 50 repetitions I did.

  When I fell for the first time, he owed me 6 already. He asked me if I was alright. I said no, and he happily replied: "Excellent! Let's continue." I did continue. I wasn't sure how long and how many times before I crumbled like a broken toy and refused to stand up.

  Then Silas added he'll sweeten the deal with a cookie each time I stood up. I couldn't help but giggle. What a ridiculous motivation. My bones were burning, I thought my head was gonna explode, and they were trying to convince me with beer and cookies. Crazy bastards.

  "He's laughing," Idas muttered from his position by the wall. I'd almost forgotten he was with us today. "Did the fever break his mind?"

  "No," Silas replied, his voice carrying that certainty I'd come to recognize. "He understands."

  "Understands what?" Idas asked.

  "That we're trying." Silas's armor clinked as he shifted. "It's all we can do."

  Leonidas caught my eye and winked. He'd heard. They all had. And they all knew—this wasn't training. It was survival. They'd survived in this harsh world. Now they were trying to help me do the same, one beer and one cookie at a time.

  I thought I got this. My body became the embodiment of pain, but I knew that feeling already. I knew I could make it. But then Leonidas decided to add something "funny I gotta love". A Yoke. With two buckets, each half-filled with water.

  The weight wasn't much—maybe 9 kilos (20 lb) total. But distributed wrong. Asymmetric. Forcing my body to compensate, to balance, to work tendons and press on joints that were already screaming. Every jump now came with the slosh of water, the shift of weight, the new vectors of force traveling through bones that felt like glass.

  Later on I was not only trembling from hot lava flowing in my bones and furious needles piercing them. But also wet and exhausted. Yet, the collapse didn't come. Althea made sure of that by sending an annoying jolt from my wrist.

  It wasn't pain—not exactly. More like a slap yanking me back from the edge of dream. My muscles contracted involuntarily, forcing me upright when everything in me screamed to stay down. My first instinct was to fight her control.

  She's not helping me. She's pulling the strings.

  The realization cut through the haze. Every "jolt," every "reminder," every perfect timing—it wasn't support. It was manipulation. She could read my body better than I could. Knew exactly when I'd break. And she was keeping me just this side of destruction.

  "You ordered me to help you master this," she said innocently.

  Master it. As if I had any mastery here. As if this was anything but prolonged obliteration with her pulling the strings.

  But, with hyper compatibility, I wasn't sure if I would survive without her... help.

  With half-open eyes, after who knows how much time... when my mind began to melt despite Althea's 'help'... Evadne tried to... bribe me with 'private prayers'. Because, as she claimed, I loved... 'private meetings with women of power'.

  I thought... she was... over this.

  Very. Funny, I thought before blacking out.

  "Catalyst binding complete! Your body is wonderful, Leonard!" Althea chimed in, but I didn't register it.

  ~ ? ? ~

  Leonidas caught him just in time. "Got him, High Priestess, no need to worry!" He winked at me. Silas took the yoke and placed it on the floor. Then he rushed to take over Leonard from Centurion.

  He was all jokes and banter. But his eyes never left Leonard. He stood within arm's reach, ready to react. I saw his face tense when Leonard tripped, landed badly, or made any unexpected movement.

  "Pylades was right, if he survives this, I may offer him a place in my unit myself!"

  "He will choose his path on his own, Centurion Leonidas." I growled. Sharp tang of hypocrisy made my nose twitch. I knew I was trying to push him toward the path that I believed was best for him too. For me—that is, for all of us. Like Pythia. Like Legatus. Like others.

  I'm no better, I scolded myself.

  I brushed his fringe from his forehead. He looks so calm, I thought. Only opportunity to see his face without sadness, or not twisted with anger, pain, or filled with grief.

  When sharp pain in the back of my head faded, I confirmed the catalyst was fully bound. Relieved, I said, "Put him into his chamber, Silas. I'll be resting in mine." Blood left my face when I added, "But later on if he needs anything, send for Highest Priestess. I have a meeting with the Inquisitors."