The western road was well-maintained, which surprised Tadano. He'd expected wilderness, rough trails, the kind of barely-there paths the underground scouts had described. Instead, the road was paved with smooth stone, marked with distance posts, and clearly traveled regularly.
"The Darks keep the roads nice," Vivi observed, walking beside him with her pack slung over one shoulder. "Makes it easier to move their armies around."
"And easier for them to patrol."
"That too."
They'd been walking for three hours, and the morning sun was climbing higher, warming their backs. The landscape had shifted from the gentle hills around Riverside to something wilder, more untamed. Trees grew thicker here, their trunks wider, their canopies beginning to merge overhead.
Darkwood Forest. Sarah had warned them about it.
"Keep to the path," Tadano reminded Vivi as the trees pressed closer. "She said there were things in these woods."
"What kind of things?"
"The kind she didn't want to elaborate on. Which is never a good sign."
The forest swallowed them gradually. First, the road narrowed. Then the trees closed in, their branches creating a tunnel of green and shadow. The temperature dropped, and the cheerful morning birdsong was replaced by quieter, stranger sounds. Rustling that might have been wind. Clicking that might have been insects. Low groans that might have been wood settling.
Or might have been something else.
Vivi's hand drifted to where flames could spark at her command. Tadano's rested on his sword hilt. They walked in silence, senses alert, watching the shadows between the trees.
An hour into the forest, Vivi broke the silence. "Do you think the Council is looking for us?"
"Definitely."
"Do you think they'll send people to drag us back?"
Tadano considered. "Maybe. But they'd have to admit the underground exists. That's risky. And we're already..." He gestured at the forest around them. "Out here. In the world. We've seen things they kept hidden. Even if they brought us back, we'd tell people."
"So we're a liability now."
"We're a problem now," Tadano corrected. "But not one they can easily solve. The underground's greatest protection is secrecy. Coming to the surface to retrieve us compromises that."
Vivi was quiet for a moment. "Do you think they knew? About the Cullings?"
"They had to. They're not stupid. They've had scouts on the surface for sixteen years."
"Then why lie to us? Why paint it like constant warfare and patrols everywhere when the reality is..." She gestured helplessly. "This. Normal life punctuated by monthly horror."
"Because this is worse," Tadano said quietly. "Constant warfare you can fight against. You can be a soldier, a rebel, a resistance fighter. But this? This peaceful occupation where everyone just accepts it? Where parents watch their children get taken and go back to baking bread the next day?" He shook his head. "This breaks something in people. The Council probably thought it was kinder to paint a picture of obvious evil we could rage against rather than show us evil we'd have to learn to live with."
"But we're not learning to live with it."
"No. We're not."
They walked on. The forest grew darker, the canopy thicker. Tadano found himself grateful for the well-maintained road—without it, they'd be hopelessly lost in this maze of ancient trees and twisted roots.
Around midday, they stopped to eat. Vivi started a small fire—carefully controlled, just enough to warm the food Sarah had packed—while Tadano kept watch. The forest felt different here. Not threatening exactly, but aware. Like they were being observed by a thousand unseen eyes.
"This place gives me the creeps," Vivi muttered, extinguishing her flames as soon as the food was warm.
"Agreed. Let's keep moving."
The afternoon passed without incident. The forest began to thin as they continued west, the oppressive canopy giving way to scattered groves and clearings. Through gaps in the trees, Tadano could see the road emerging ahead, leading toward open country.
By late afternoon, they'd cleared Darkwood entirely. The road stretched before them across rolling hills, and in the distance, perhaps an hour's walk away, Tadano could see walls rising against the sky.
Millbrook.
"There it is," Vivi said, shading her eyes against the sun. "Think they'll just let us walk in?"
"Sarah said there'd be checkpoints. Dark soldiers checking travelers."
"So what's our story?"
Tadano pulled out the map Sarah had given them. "We're siblings from a small settlement to the east. Traveling to visit relatives. We have no papers because our village was too small for official registration."
"Will they believe that?"
"Probably not. But it's better than saying we're from an underground bunker."
Vivi snorted. "Fair point."
They walked on, and as they drew closer to Millbrook, Tadano could make out more details. The town was larger than Riverside, with proper stone walls and guard towers at regular intervals. Dark banners flew from the towers—black cloth marked with a symbol that looked like a shattered star.
At the main gate, a checkpoint had been set up. Dark soldiers in their light-absorbing armor stood watch, stopping travelers and examining papers. Tadano counted six soldiers visible, probably more inside the guardhouse.
"Ready?" he asked Vivi.
"As I'll ever be."
They joined the line of people waiting to enter. Most were locals, it seemed—farmers with carts of produce, merchants with goods to sell, families returning from visits to other towns. All had papers ready, all moved through the checkpoint quickly and efficiently.
Then it was their turn.
A Dark soldier stepped forward, his purple-glowing eyes fixing on them through his helmet's slits. "Papers."
"We don't have any," Tadano said, keeping his voice steady. "We're from a small settlement east of here. Too small for official registration. We're traveling to visit family."
The soldier's head tilted slightly. "No papers. No registration." His hand moved to the weapon at his belt. "Step aside. Both of you."
Two more soldiers appeared, flanking them. Tadano's hand itched toward his sword, but he forced himself to remain still. Fighting would only get them killed.
They were led to the guardhouse—a small stone building attached to the wall. Inside, a Dark officer sat behind a desk, reviewing documents. He looked up as they entered, and Tadano felt the weight of that purple gaze.
"Unregistered travelers," one of the soldiers reported.
The officer stood, walking around the desk to examine them more closely. "Where exactly are you from?"
"Settlement Forty-Seven," Tadano lied, using a number he'd seen on Sarah's map. "East of Riverside."
"Settlement Forty-Seven was destroyed in a raid six months ago," the officer said flatly. "Everyone killed or taken to camps. Try again."
Tadano's mind raced. "We weren't there. We'd left before—"
"You're lying." The officer's voice was calm, almost bored. "I can always tell. Now, you can tell me the truth, or I can have my men extract it. Your choice."
Vivi's hands clenched, small wisps of smoke rising from her fingers. Tadano shot her a warning look. Not now. Not here.
"We're refugees," Tadano said, switching tactics. "Our village was burned. We've been traveling, trying to find somewhere safe. We heard Millbrook might—"
"Might what? Take in refugees?" The officer laughed, a cold sound. "We don't accept refugees. They're either sent to work camps or executed as suspected resistance. Which would you prefer?"
Before Tadano could answer, the door burst open. An older man with gray hair and a blacksmith's apron strode in, his face thunderous.
"What's this?" he demanded, looking at the twins. "You're harassing children now, Commander?"
The Dark officer turned. "These are unregistered travelers with no papers and suspicious stories, Garrett. This doesn't concern you."
Garrett. Tadano's pulse quickened. This was their contact. Sarah's friend.
"It concerns me when you're blocking my entrance," Garrett snapped. "These two are with me. They're apprentices I hired from Riverside. The paperwork is being processed, but you know how slow the bureaucracy is."
The officer studied Garrett for a long moment. "You're vouching for them?"
"I am. And I'm a registered citizen with full rights. Or have you forgotten that Master Smiths have protections under the occupation treaty?"
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut. Finally, the officer waved a dismissive hand. "Fine. They're your responsibility. If they cause trouble, you'll answer for it."
"They won't cause trouble." Garrett grabbed Tadano's arm. "Come on, you two. We have work to do."
He dragged them out of the guardhouse before anyone could protest. The soldiers watched but didn't interfere. Once they were through the gate and into Millbrook proper, Garrett didn't slow down, leading them through twisting streets away from the checkpoint.
"Sarah sent word you were coming," he said quietly, not looking at them. "Didn't expect you to nearly get yourselves arrested at the gate. What happened to being subtle?"
"We don't have papers," Vivi said. "Subtle doesn't work without papers."
"Should've sent a messenger ahead. We could've forged something." Garrett turned down a narrow alley. "No matter. You're in now. But we need to talk somewhere private."
He led them to a large building on the eastern edge of town—his smithy, judging by the forge smoke rising from the chimney and the sound of hammers on metal from within. But instead of taking them inside, Garrett led them around back to a small cottage.
Inside, he finally stopped, turning to face them properly. His eyes were sharp, assessing. "Sarah says you want to join the resistance. Says you watched a Culling and decided to fight. That true?"
"Yes," Tadano said.
"Why?"
"Because someone has to."
Garrett snorted. "Noble. Naive. But noble." He pulled out chairs from a small table. "Sit. We need to talk about what you're really asking for."
They sat. Garrett remained standing, arms crossed.
"The resistance isn't some glorious adventure," he said bluntly. "It's not heroic battles and dramatic victories. It's hiding in shadows. It's watching your friends die. It's knowing that every person you recruit might be an informant. It's living with the fact that if you're caught, you'll be tortured for information before they finally kill you." He leaned forward. "And you two are children. Sixteen years old. Captain Reine doesn't take children."
"We're not children," Vivi said, flames sparking. "We can fight. We can—"
"Fighting isn't the issue. Dying is." Garrett's expression softened slightly. "Look, I understand the anger. I was angry once too. Lost my son in a Culling eight years ago. But anger isn't enough. Reine needs soldiers, yes. But she also needs people who'll survive long enough to actually make a difference."
"Then let us prove ourselves," Tadano said. "Test us. Whatever Captain Reine requires, we'll do it."
Garrett studied them for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Alright. I'll take you to her. But I'm warning you—her tests aren't easy. Most don't pass. And those who fail..." He shook his head. "Let's just say she doesn't take failure well."
"We won't fail," Vivi said with absolute confidence.
"That's what they all say."
Night had fallen by the time Garrett led them through Millbrook's streets again. They moved through shadows, avoiding the main roads where Dark patrols walked their routes. The town had a curfew, Garrett explained quietly. Anyone caught out after dark without authorization faced immediate arrest.
They reached a large warehouse near the docks. Garrett knocked three times, paused, then twice more. The door opened a crack, revealing a suspicious eye.
"It's me," Garrett said. "I've brought the ones from Riverside."
The door opened fully. Inside, the warehouse looked abandoned—crates stacked haphazardly, dust everywhere, cobwebs in the corners. But Garrett led them to a section of floor that, when he pressed a hidden switch, slid aside to reveal stairs descending into darkness.
"Down we go," he said.
The underground space was much larger than Tadano expected. It had been carved out beneath the warehouse, reinforced with wood and stone, lit by carefully shielded lanterns. And it was full of people.
Maybe thirty men and women occupied the space, ranging in age from early twenties to grizzled veterans. All were armed. All looked hardened by combat and loss. And all stopped what they were doing to stare as the twins descended the stairs.
"Fresh meat?" someone called out.
"Babies," another scoffed. "Garrett's bringing us babies now?"
"Shut it," Garrett snapped. "Where's Reine?"
"Here."
The crowd parted, and a woman stepped forward.
Captain Reine was not what Tadano expected. She was young—maybe thirty—with short-cropped dark hair and a scar running from her left eyebrow to her jaw. She wore practical combat gear, and three weapons were visible on her person: a sword, a knife, and what looked like a dark-magic powered pistol at her hip.
But it was her eyes that captured attention. They were cold. Analytical. The eyes of someone who'd seen too much death and learned to calculate the value of human life in tactical terms.
She looked the twins up and down with those cold eyes, and Tadano felt measured and found wanting.
"These are Sarah's recruits?" Reine asked Garrett.
"They are."
"They look like they should be in school, not a warzone."
"We can fight," Vivi said, stepping forward. "Test us. We'll prove it."
Reine's lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "Everyone says that. Then they face real danger and break." She circled them slowly, like a predator assessing prey. "Sarah's message said you watched a Culling. Said you wanted revenge. But revenge isn't enough. I need soldiers. People who'll follow orders. Who'll sacrifice themselves if necessary for the mission. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Tadano said.
"We'll see." Reine turned away, addressing the room. "We've got a mission tomorrow night. Dark supply convoy passing through the eastern road. We're going to hit it, take what we can, burn the rest." She looked back at the twins. "You two will come. If you survive and don't compromise the mission, we'll talk about recruitment. If you fail..." She shrugged. "Well, dead recruits don't cost us anything."
"That's the test?" Vivi asked. "A real mission?"
"I don't believe in practice. You either perform under pressure or you die." Reine walked to a table covered in maps. "Garrett will give you the briefing. We move out at dusk tomorrow. Don't be late."
She turned her attention to the maps, effectively dismissing them.
Garrett led them to a corner of the underground space where bedrolls were stacked. "You'll sleep here tonight. Tomorrow, I'll go over the mission details. And kids?" He looked at them seriously. "This is your last chance to back out. Once you're on that mission, there's no running home. You understand?"
"We understand," Tadano said.
"Good. Get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
Garrett left them alone. Around the underground space, resistance members returned to their activities—cleaning weapons, studying maps, speaking in low voices. Nobody approached the twins. Nobody welcomed them.
They were outsiders. Unproven. Possibly liabilities.
Tadano lay on his bedroll, staring at the rough ceiling, and wondered if they'd made a mistake. This wasn't the glorious resistance he'd imagined. These weren't noble heroes. They were hard, scarred, desperate people fighting a war they were slowly losing.
But they were fighting. That was what mattered.
"Tadano?" Vivi whispered from her bedroll. "Are we going to be okay?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But we're going to try."
"That's not very reassuring."
"It's all I've got."
Vivi was quiet for a moment. Then: "Thanks for coming with me. I know this is crazy. I know we could die tomorrow. But... thanks for not trying to stop me."
"Someone has to keep you from burning down the whole world," Tadano said softly.
Vivi laughed, quiet and genuine. "Someone does."
They fell silent as the resistance continued their preparations around them. Tomorrow they'd face their first real test. Tomorrow they'd either prove themselves or die trying.
Tadano closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but all he could see was those children being dragged away. Their parents' screams. The casual cruelty of it all.
He would make it through tomorrow's mission. He would prove himself.
And then he would make the Darks pay for every single child they'd taken.
That was his promise.
That was his purpose.
And nothing—not fear, not doubt, not even death—would stop him from seeing it through.