The bell rang.
At first, no one moved. The trainees lay still in their beds,half-sleep tucked in their blankets, their minds not yet registering the harsh sound from outside.The bell rang again—louder this time, more insistent. Like a hammer pounding straight into their bones.
One by one, they sat up, confused and dazed. For a few long seconds, they just stared at nothing, the weight of exhaustion clouding their thoughts. Then it hit them.
They were in the training field. Gleason.
Panic erupted.
Their feet slammed against wooden floors. Blankets flew. Voices shouted in hushed urgency as everyone scrambled to grab their things and run outside. Some trainees forgot their towels. Others grabbed buckets blindly. The air was cold, and the sun hadn't even begun to rise. Only the glow of oil lamps lining the path lit their way, casting long shadows over the dirt and stone.
Eleonor rushed out, clutching a wooden pail, barefooted. As she sprinted toward the well, a sudden chill brushed her skin—not from the wind, but from something unseen. The air thickened, pulsing with an eerie tension that made her chest tighten. It was as if hundreds of unseen eyes were watching, hovering just beyond the veil of reality. She stopped for a second, heart pounding, scanning her surroundings.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No whispers. No one.
But the feeling didn't fade.
It pressed in—heavy, electric—like a crowd was gathering around her, silent and invisible.
She was alone... and yet, not.
She ran straight to the well, brushing of the strange feeling and just focus on what she will do. The line was already forming, trainees yelling, pushing, groaning in impatience. She managed to fetch a bucket of water, her hands trembling as the bell rang again—its sharp clang slicing through the still-dark sky like a warning.
But the line to the bathhouse was impossibly long. And the bell was still ringing. It made her anxious.
There was no countdown but they can feel the time was running out.
With no other choice, Eleonor darted behind the bathhouse. Hidden from view, tucked into the shadow of the wall, she set the pail down. The ground was damp, the stone cold under her feet.
Still fully clothed, she poured the water over herself.
She scrubbed her arms, face, and neck quickly, her breath catching at the shock of cold. The water soaked her shirt and clung to her skin, but she didn't care. She had to be clean. She had to show up. There was no rule against it—and in the dark, no one would see.
It's not against the rules. It's fine. I'm not cheating. I'm surviving.
And as the final clang of the bell echoed across the training grounds, Eleonor stood up straight, wearing her uniform, shirt, trouser, boots and cloak—all proper yet, her hair is dripping but refreshed—ready to face the first day of training.
They were instructed to fall in line, three platoon,three platoons—though many were confused by the terminology, unsure of where or how to stand. Still, they followed the order, forming rows as best they could under the dim, cold light of early dawn.
The four officers, Lieutenant Hosea, Hera Sawyer, Sergeant Shun Mortea and Captain Ishan Halston were all there to welcome them.
"Did you all took a bath?," her eyebrows furrowed with Captain Ishan's silly question. Eleonor slowly looked around. Their hair are all wet, dripping, wetting their uniforms.
No one dared to answer.
"Did you bathe, Sergeant Shun?," he added, with a mockery in his voice. No one make a sound. He casually shifted his weight on his right leg and placed his hands pn his waist. Sergeant Shun placed his finger on his chin, acting like he was thinking.
"Why bother?,"he answered, his tone is not clear if he was joking, or serious, or was it just the humor of the two seniors in front of them.
Eleonor gasped when the cold air brushes towards her skin. Her knees are shaking, nervous of what will happen next.
"Dirt and sweat will embrace your body, anyway," Captain Ishan added, slightly laughing as he picked up the oil lamp. His eyes wandered in the dark, looking at everyone's faces. He then pouted in disappointment.
"That's enough, you two,"Hera Sawyer stopped him and stood in front, full of authority. Though this is her first time doing this kind of thing, she still needs guidance from Lieutenant Hosea.
"Good morning, Trainees," she greeted, warmly but without a smile. She just stood there full of power and authority, or at least that is what she want to show to the trainees.
"Good morning, maam," the trainees greeted back.
"Today, the first day of your training. As the welcome rites, you will be doing the full-course drill," a silent murmur from everyone was let out from the trainees.
"Silent," Lieutenant Hosea, calmly shouted, making them shut.
"Three laps of jogging around the field, and pass all the obstacles,"
"Remember, this is a graded performance. There is a hidden grading system. This activity is not only based on physical strength, endurance or time, there is a whole lot more,"
"This morning routine will commence everyday, at exactly five in the morning. There is no excuse. Not the coldnes, not the darkness, no excuses,"
"There will be breakfast, not until everyone finished the course," Hera Sawyer stated and then signaled everyone to start the drill.
With the guide of other officers, they are all around the field, some are already on the obstacles, some are along with the four seniors. They stood nervously on the starting line of the field.
The whistle blew—sharp, still and forceful.
For a second, no one moved. The stillness of dawn wrapped around them like a thick blanket, but it quickly shattered as boots started pounding against the earth. The field roared with movement.
Their foot echoed the field. The sound of their boots roared, signifying dedication, fear and excitement. Some compete with each other, trying to see if who will finish first.
Eleonor blinked hard, shaking off the fog in her head. She fell into step with the crowd, her body moving on instinct. Cold air slapped her face. Her breath turned to mist in the low light of the morning. The world was still dark, lit only by torches and oil lamps scattered around the training field.
Eleonor ran along with other trainee, with the dark embracing the field, she failed to identify the people on her side, behind and ahead of her. It was terrifying to run the dark field yet she did not stop. She continue, she push herself. She didn't know where she was going, only that the person in front of her was running, so she ran too.
"Three laps," someone muttered from her right. She turned her head slightly—it was Aria Levisa, her cabinmate, face already flushed, teeth chattering.
"What is this, a death ritual?" Eleonor huffed out a weak chuckle. "Feels like it."
Behind them, a voice groaned dramatically. "I should've stayed in bed and accepted a dishonorable discharge." a woman said, she was about to cry.
Eleonor glanced over her shoulder. It was Atalia Nicolaides, face scrunched, trying to tie her boot as she jogged.
"Careful, you might tripped," Eleonor warned, concerned.
"Let me trip, maybe it's the only way out," Atalia grumbled, managing a laugh despite her breathlessness. She picked up her pace and caught up beside Eleonor, who by now had found a steady rhythm.
This adrenaline within her---feels familiar. Familiarly-bitter.
The sound of dozens of boots thudding on wet soil echoed around them. The trainees moved like a slow, ragged tide. Some already looked like they were about to pass out. Others were trying to pace themselves, heads low, arms pumping.
They were halfway through the first lap when a tall, lean guy bumped Eleonor's shoulder as he passed her.
"Move faster, weak legs," he muttered under his breath.
Eleonor stumbled but kept running. "Who was that?"
"That's Hugo" Aria said, jogging beside her.
"From Cabin Five. Mayabang. He thinks he's already in the officer ranks."
"I hope he trips," Naomi muttered.
They rounded the training field's north curve, where mist hovered low on the grass. Eleonor felt the burn building in her calves. Her breath was getting heavier. Her wet uniform clung to her skin, her hair sticking to her nape. Don't slow down, she told herself.
"First lap down," someone called.
They didn't have time to celebrate.
By the second lap, Eleonor's arms were going numb. Her lungs begged for air. She was a few steps behind Naomi and Eleora now, lips pale. Aria kept up, but her pace was uneven.
"Should've trained for this," Aria puffed. "I thought this was gonna be like... personality development camp or something."
Eleonor managed a grin, despite the sweat trickling down her brow. "You signed up for the wrong war."
Just then, Addie appeared beside them, strangely cheerful.It was Addie's third lap already.
"I brought mint leaves in my pocket," she said brightly. "Want one? Helps with the airways."
Eleonor blinked. "You're jogging with mint leaves?"
"Don't ask questions, Eleonor. Just open your hand." Addie dropped one onto her palm and popped one in her own mouth like candy.
They were all laughing—gasping, laughing, coughing—as they entered the third and final lap.
The field looked endless now.
One by one, some trainees slowed to a walk. Some collapsed. Others cried quietly while still running. Eleonor kept her eyes on the ground, counting steps, trying not to think. But the pressure rises when she saw most of the trainee already finished the run.
Her legs screamed. It was numb and paindul, yet she pushed herself. In silence. Boots slamming into the ground in synchronized rhythm. Eleonor gritted her teeth, feeling her body give everything it had left.
Finally, they crossed the marked line. The end of the third lap.
Sinalubong siya nila Naomi at Eleora na parang hindi man lang sila napagod. They are sweating but still looks fresh and radiant.
"We survived," Naomi wheezed.
"For now," Eleonor muttered, eyes drifting toward the obstacle course ahead. Her heart beats even faster with the sight kn front of her.
The worst had only just begun.
The world was quiet again—if only for a moment.
Most of them were already tired and exhausted, they can only lay down the slightly wet grass---from the moist of the fog. The fact that they were only given a small bamboo container of water per team is even more frustrating. All of them are thirsty, some are dizzy and some don't want to continue anymore.
The water sure is not enough of the ten members yet, they did everything for all of them to take a sip---vanishing the thirst.
The only companion they have is the soothing colors of the sky---the sun slowly rising from the horizon. It is comforting, a glimmer of hope and bond.
"Tired already?," they snapped when Sergeant Shun appeared.
"Yes,sir," they all answered in unison.
"That's only three laps, you can do more lf than," Seargent Shun answered and once again scan the faces kf everyone.
"Jogging, napagod ka na agad," another man scoffed. Mocking the other person.
Eleonor sat with her legs stretched out, her elbows propped behind her. Her lungs were still recovering from the early morning torture, but the cold air brushing against her damp skin felt almost like a reward. Beside her, Aria flopped onto the grass like a lifeless doll.
She was amaze seeing Naomi, Eleora and Addie being great at this. They don't look tired at all.
While she soaked in sweat, they still looked fresh with only little sweat on their face.
"I think I left my soual at the field," she whispered.
"Don't worry, Eleonor. It's here, I picked it up for you,"Naomi jokingly hand Eleonor his palm as if her 'diwa' was there. They all laughed.
"You jogged with mint leaves," Naomi pointed out. "What kind of sorcery is that?"
Addie grinned. "Mint and prayer. It's a family recipe."
Naomi sat up, groaning. "You know, for a place that promises trauma, this isn't so bad when you're surrounded by cool people."
"Yeah," Eleonor agreed, glancing at each of them. "I thought I'd be totally alone here. But you guys... make it bearable."
Aria smiled, brushing sweat from her forehead. "We suffer together, we survive together."
Eleonor looked at the looming wooden frames and ropes in the distance. She wasn't ready—but somehow, knowing these people were with her, made it feel less terrifying.
"Whatever comes next," she said softly, "we'll just take it one breath at a time."
And with that, they leaned into the grass, sharing a rare silence not of pressure or pain—but of understanding, and growing camaraderie.
The break ended faster than anyone wanted.
A sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by Sergeant Shun's booming voice, "Back on your feet! Formation! Now!" Seargent Shun, yelled in command and it was followed immediately even with their legs shaking.
Groans filled the field as the trainees slowly scrambled to their feet, muscles aching and legs wobbling. The officers waited near the start of the obstacle course, looking far too comfortable for people who probably didn't run a single lap.
The course loomed ahead—rope climbs, mud pits, log hurdles, crawling trenches, and wooden walls. It looked like a battlefield designed to break them before training even started.
"Pass through each station. You fail one, you start over. No skipping," Hera announced, arms crossed. "Your performance is being observed."
Eleonor swallowed hard, exchanging nervous glances with Naomi before they all began to move.
At the first station—a rope net climb—Eleonor gripped the rope and hoisted herself up. Her arms trembled, but she climbed steadily. She was almost halfway when someone much faster sped up beside her. The ropes shook with force.
She grimaced because the woman deliberately shook the ropes to throw him off balance and make him let go.
"Better keep up, " a cold, sharp voice said beside her.
Eleonor blinked and turned to the girl climbing past her with ease. Her brown hair was tied tightly back, her arms visibly defined under the rolled sleeves of her uniform. Masasabing sanay na sanay ito sa kanyang ginagawa.
"I'm not here to babysit anyone falling behind."
Eleonor's brows furrowed. "I wasn't asking you to."
The girl scoffed and pulled herself up faster, reaching the top in seconds and disappearing over the other side.
Eleonor made it over, panting slightly, and trudged through the next few stations—the crawling trench, the hurdle walls, the log bridge. She was keeping up. Barely.
But there she was again. The same girl. Waiting at the balance beams like she owned the place.
"Hilda Priestly," she said flatly, not even looking at her.
"Since you're slow and a drag, I figured, I need to know fhe name of those who are slow-moving slug, to avoid them to be my team mate,"
Eleonor bit the inside of her cheek, choosing not to answer.
"Nothing to say? That's good. Quiet ones break faster. Easier to replace."
Eleonor stepped onto the beam. "I'm not here to compete with you," she muttered, trying to stay calm. "I'm just here to survive."
Hilda smirked, arms crossed. "Then try not to embarrass yourself while you do."
Eleonor's foot almost slipped—but she caught herself, pushing forward without another word. She could hear Hilda's quiet snort behind her.
She didn't know why the girl picked on her, or what her deal was—but Eleonor knew one thing,
She wasn't going to let anyone break her.
Especially not Hilda Priestly.
The next obstacle loomed ahead—suspended logs.
Several thick logs hung horizontally by ropes, swaying slightly with the morning wind. Trainees were to cross them one by one, balancing from one to another without falling. Beneath was a shallow pit filled with muddy water. Slipping meant a full reset.
Eleonor took a moment to breathe, her hands still scraped from the crawl trench. The line moved slowly, and she used that moment to study how the others crossed. Most trainees wobbled, arms flailing. Some made it. Others fell, cursing and groaning as they climbed out of the mud.
"Shift your weight to your toes. Keep your arms out—shoulders level with your hips," a calm voice spoke beside her.
She turned and saw a boy with dark, unruly curls, sharp hazel eyes, and a composed air standing just behind her. His uniform was perfectly worn, not a stain or wrinkle in sight. He had an observing gaze—like someone who had already solved the obstacle in his head ten times over.
"Leonardo Desai," he said without offering a hand. Just a subtle nod. His gazed focused on the trainee, walking on the suspended logs. Examining their moves and tactics, judging their downfall and their frustrations.
"Eleonor Celeste," she replied, a little caught off guard by his quiet presence.
"You hesitate too much," he added, glancing at her boots. "Overthink this one and you'll fall. It's more about rhythm than strength."
"I'm not really used to walking on floating logs," she said with a breathless laugh, unsure if he was teasing her or not. He seems nice but, he makes her uncomfortable.
But Leonardo didn't laugh. He simply stepped forward, his turn up. With calm precision, he moved across the suspended logs—his feet steady, body balanced, every step deliberate. He looked like he belonged there, as if he'd done this a thousand times. Not a single sway or falter.
At the end, he hopped down and glanced back at her. "Your turn." he smirked.
Eleonor bit her lip, then stepped onto the first log. She tried to remember what he said—toes, balance, rhythm.
Her first step was shaky, but she adjusted. She didn't look down. She counted her steps. She listened to the breeze and her heartbeat.
She made it across.
Leonardo was waiting near the next station, watching others fail or succeed with the same unreadable expression.
"That wasn't bad," he said when she reached him. "You learn fast."
"Or I just hate falling," she replied, finally cracking a small smile.
He didn't return the smile, but she caught the slight raise of his brow—approval, maybe.
As she turned to face the next challenge, she noticed Hilda already ahead, vaulting over a wall like a storm. Eleonor exhaled, bracing herself.
Strong enemies, mysterious allies.
This training was starting to feel like more than just drills.
It was a test of who you really were.
The final obstacle stood tall before them: the Wall of Resolve.
A towering wooden wall, nearly twelve feet high, rough and splintered with time. There were no ropes, no ladders—just brute strength, agility, and instinct. They had to scale it, with nothing but each other, or their own resolve.
Some boosted one another, others struggled alone.
Eleonor stared at it, her breath shallow, arms already shaking from the trials they'd been through. Her boots were caked with mud, and the soreness in her legs screamed at her to stop. But she didn't.
She ran forward.
Halfway up, she gripped a narrow wooden notch, pulling herself up inch by inch. Her fingers were slipping, body trembling.
Then suddenly—her foot missed the edge.
She gasped, her body falling backward.
Wind rushed past her ears as she braced for the hard landing—
—but she didn't hit the ground.
Strong arms caught her mid-fall. She blinked, stunned, face inches away from Elijah Martini, who looked down at her with the same unreadable, distant expression he always wore.
But this time, his eyes lingered.
He didn't say anything. Neither did she.
Her heart raced—not from fear anymore, but something else. The air between them shifted. Heavy. Charged.
"You good?" he finally asked, his voice low.
Eleonor could barely nod, suddenly aware of the heat between them despite the cold morning wind. He slowly let her down, his hands lingering a second longer than necessary.
From a distance, hidden behind the shade of the command tower, Captain Levi Arcanghel stood with arms crossed, his sharp eyes quietly tracking the scene. He didn't speak. Didn't move.
But he saw everything.
His gaze lingered on Elijah, then Eleonor. A small breath escaped him—like a warning, or a secret kept.
"Back up," Elijah said quietly, snapping her attention back. "I'll boost you this time."
She nodded silently. He crouched down, lacing his fingers together. She stepped onto his hands, and with a grunt, he lifted her. She scrambled up, gritting her teeth, and this time—she reached the top.
She looked down. Elijah had already started climbing on his own. Strong. Silent. Efficient.
She sat on the top for a second, catching her breath—before glancing out at the field bathed in the faint golden hue of the rising sun. A breeze brushed past her face.
She didn't know if it was the height, the adrenaline, or the memory of that moment in his arms—but her heart wasn't calm anymore.
And below, Levi turned away from the shadows, his eyes narrowing. The drill was over.
But something else had begun.
The dining hall buzzed with weary movement. Tin plates clattered, boots dragged, and shoulders slumped onto wooden tables. Everyone was exhausted, their bodies aching from the full-course drill—but the smell of warm broth and bread was a small mercy.
Eleonor sat with Naomi and Eleora at one of the long tables. They didn't speak much. They were too tired to.
Until a sharp, clear voice echoed through the hall.
"Attention, trainees," Hera Sawyer's voice cut through the din like a knife. The murmurs died down, spoons paused mid-air.
She stood at the front with a clipboard in hand, her posture straight as an iron rod.
"As of today, you will all be assigned into official teams, effective immediately. These teams will be your family for the next three years. You will live together, train together, succeed—or fail—together."
Murmurs rippled across the room.
"Each team will have a designated leader, selected based on our observations and evaluations during this morning's drill, past performance records, and overall leadership potential."
Hera scanned the room.
"When I call your team leader's name, proceed to them. Leaders, stand as your names are called."
She took a breath.
"Abigail Moser."
A tall girl with cropped blonde hair stood up, her stance firm and focused. Her steely eyes scanned the room like a seasoned commander.
"Eleora Wolfhart."
Eleora's eyes widened. "Ha?"
Naomi nudged her, grinning.
"Go on Eleora," Naomi urged her to go in fro.t.
Still stunned, Eleora stood up slowly, earning some curious glances.
"Naomi Steiner."
"Wha—me?!" she whispered in shock, looking at Eleonor who gave her a small smile.
Naomi stood up a bit awkwardly, raising a hand with a sheepish grin.
"Asher Lozano."
A serious-looking guy with a buzz cut rose from a nearby table. Calm and intimidating.
"Addie Sapphirus."
Addie stood confidently, flipping her braid. "Of course," she whispered to Eleonor before joining the other leaders.
Hera called a few more names—Tomas Velren, Mika Ryes...
"And the rest of you," Hera continued, "find your leaders. Each team consists of ten trainees. Your team list will be posted outside the dining hall. Once you finish your meal, find your leader and proceed to your respective cabins."
She gave one last look to the group.
"You are no longer just trainees. You are teams. And only teams that work as one will survive what's ahead."
With that, she turned, clipboard in hand, and exited with the other officers.
She became part of Addie Sapphirus' team, along side with Leonardo Desai,
"I'm Suzy Adamos, from Elarae District."
"Giselle Furi,from Sestisi District."
"Lorraine Luna,from Viloxal Village."
"Armani Rossi,from Sestisa District."
"Leonardo Desai,Idela Village."
"Gye Alastair,taga- Akarki District."
"Marcel Alphelion, Zacus Village."
" Hilda Priestley, Elarae District "
"And you are?" Tanong ni Addie kay Elijah na nakapoker face lang habang nakatingin sa kawalan.
" Elijah Martini," maikli nitong pakilala sa sarilim
"Oh,Elijah. Are you uncomfortable with us?" Tanong ni Addie.
"Definitely," nagulat sila sa sagot ng binata pero pinagwalang bahala nalang.
The guts of this guy. Leonardo just sat there, observing everyone. Calculating their personality, their weaknesses, strength, trauma, everything his mind can possible scrutinized.
This team is consist of different people, outsiders, slugs, gay, a beauty, and someone with dead eyes. Very interesting. Leonardo's mind ran wild as his teammates got to know each other, his devilish smirked form.