The morning after the hunt broke with colorless light.
The barrier over Insomnia glowed faintly, reflecting the clouds that drifted over the city like ash.
The streets hummed with the sound of life—trams running, engines roaring, merchants shouting—but beneath it all, the Citadel training dome buzzed with a very different rhythm.
Inside, Kael and Darius faced each other in the sparring ring.
Their cloaks lay discarded on the floor, magitek gauntlets powered, and eyes locked with something sharp and stubborn.
The rest of the team watched in silence from the edge—Rhea with her arms folded, and Sirius standing still, expression unreadable.
This was supposed to be routine practice. A cooldown after the previous night's mission.
But Kael's grin and Darius's narrowed glare had promised otherwise.
---
"Come on, big man," Kael taunted, spinning his knives. "You're slower than that daemon we killed."
Darius's jaw tightened. "You always talk when you're about to lose."
"Lose?" Kael smirked. "I'm just giving you a fair warning before I embarrass you."
"Then stop warning," Darius rumbled, "and start fighting."
Kael lunged.
The ring flared with kinetic energy as their weapons met—steel against plated gauntlet, light sparks scattering like dust in sunlight. Kael's movements were fast, fluid, but Darius's defense was a wall of power. Every blow Kael landed was deflected with brutal precision.
Still, Kael's grin never faded. "You hit hard," he said, twisting away from a strike. "But not hard enough to catch me."
He ducked low, sliding under Darius's swing, slashing upward with both knives. The impact cut across Darius's armor, leaving faint lines but no real damage.
Darius retaliated with a shockwave punch that sent Kael staggering back a few steps.
"Still standing!" Kael laughed, flipping one knife in his hand. "You're getting predictable."
Rhea sighed from the sidelines. "Predictable? You're the one who picks fights every morning."
Kael winked without turning. "It's called team bonding."
"Then bond quieter," she muttered.
---
Sirius finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying across the entire dome. "Enough."
Neither stopped.
Kael darted in again, faster this time, blades glowing faintly as he tried to catch Darius off-guard.
Darius caught one knife mid-swing with his gauntlet and twisted, forcing Kael down. The floor cracked beneath them.
Kael hissed, then swept his leg out, breaking the hold. Both rolled back to their feet, breathing harder now.
Rhea glanced at Sirius. "You're going to stop them, right?"
He didn't move. "No."
Rhea frowned. "No?"
"They need this," Sirius said quietly. "They've been carrying tension since last night."
---
Another clash. This one louder. Darius landed a heavy strike that sent Kael skidding backward. Kael recovered instantly, smirking through the blood at the corner of his mouth.
"Not bad," he said, "for a brick."
Darius exhaled slowly. "You talk too much."
"Someone has to fill the silence," Kael retorted.
The exchange drew out—Kael's precision against Darius's power. Each one pushing harder, testing not just strength but pride.
Sirius watched every movement, every breath.
It wasn't just a fight. It was balance breaking.
Kael fought with speed and ego; Darius fought with restraint and frustration. Together, they risked losing the harmony that made the Fangs unstoppable.
Finally, when the momentum turned into recklessness, Sirius moved.
---
He stepped into the ring.
Neither Kael nor Darius saw him coming until both blades and fists were stopped mid-motion by his own—black katana blocking Kael's knives, Leonis heirloom pressing against Darius's gauntlet.
The sudden silence after the impact was deafening.
Sirius's voice was calm, but his tone cut sharper than any weapon. "Are you done?"
Kael swallowed. "We were just—"
"Fighting without thought," Sirius interrupted. "Breaking formation. Forgetting rhythm. You think daemons will wait for your pride?"
Darius lowered his gaze. "No, Commander."
Sirius turned his eyes on Kael. "And you?"
Kael exhaled through his nose. "No, Commander."
Sirius held their gaze a moment longer before stepping back, sheathing both swords. "Good. Then let's make this worth the effort."
He looked between them. "You're going to spar again. Together."
Rhea raised an eyebrow. "Against each other again?"
"No," Sirius said. "Against me."
---
Kael blinked. "Wait—both of us?"
"Now," Sirius said simply.
He drew both blades again, stance relaxed but impossible to read.
Darius's eyes widened slightly. "Commander—"
"Come," Sirius said. "Let's see if you've learned anything from trying to kill each other."
---
The spar that followed wasn't a fight—it was a storm.
Kael and Darius attacked in sync, their teamwork driven by instinct and shared exhaustion. Kael darted in first, his knives striking in flashes of silver, while Darius followed with crushing power.
Sirius flowed between them like a shadow.
Every strike they threw was deflected, redirected, countered.
The black katana tore through air in blurs of motion, while the Leonis heirloom moved like a mirror—catching, turning, teaching without breaking.
Kael lunged again, feinting right. Sirius sidestepped, grabbing his wrist and using the momentum to throw him into Darius's shoulder. Both men hit the floor hard.
"Your timing is still off," Sirius said evenly. "Rhea could have killed you twice already."
Rhea smirked faintly from the edge. "Probably three times."
Sirius stepped back, lowering his blades. "Again."
---
They rose.
The next attempt was sharper—Kael's movement cleaner, Darius's swings more measured. This time, their rhythm matched.
Sirius blocked, parried, and adjusted to their improved coordination. When Kael ducked low, Darius covered the high line. When Darius struck, Kael cut in from the flank.
For a brief moment, the air between them sang—motion and sound perfectly aligned.
Then Sirius disarmed them both with two precise strikes. Kael's knives hit the ground; Darius's gauntlets sparked and deactivated.
Sirius stepped back. "Better."
Both men caught their breath, drenched in sweat but grinning despite themselves.
"Wasn't fair," Kael said. "You've got two swords."
"You had each other," Sirius replied. "That's worth more."
---
The tension drained from the air.
Kael extended a hand toward Darius, who hesitated before clasping it firmly.
"Guess we're done trying to kill each other," Kael said.
"For now," Darius replied, deadpan.
Rhea clapped her hands lightly. "Finally. A breakthrough."
Sirius allowed the faintest hint of a smile. "Next time you fight, remember—your enemies aren't in this room. They're out there. And they don't care how good your banter is."
Kael grinned. "You sure? Some daemons might appreciate the entertainment."
"Maybe," Sirius said, sheathing his blades. "But they don't laugh long."
---
When the session ended, the team lingered for a while—cooling down, laughing quietly, the kind of easy noise only earned after exhaustion.
Rhea nudged Sirius on her way out. "You let them win a few exchanges, didn't you?"
He shrugged. "They needed it."
"Hmm," she said, smiling faintly. "You're starting to sound like Cor."
Sirius looked toward the high windows where the light from the barrier poured through. "Then maybe I'm finally learning."