The next morning, Ethan initiated the first structured training cycle.
Reyes led stealth drills, his wiry frame weaving through the brush with near-silent precision.
Juno—one of the newer captures, broad-shouldered and initially defiant—took charge of lifting and fortification tasks. The override tether had softened him, but the man's natural discipline did the rest.
And Harlan? He became the de facto lieutenant, moving among the men with gruff efficiency, molding them the way he once molded raiding crews—but this time for patrol formations and defensive maneuvers.
Ethan demonstrated enhanced perception exercises, teaching them to feel shifts in the environment. It was rudimentary—stripped-down chakra sense disguised as intuition training—but even diluted, it sharpened them.
The Panel flickered faintly:
Group Skill Proficiency +32%
Tamed Cohesion +18
PP +420
The numbers felt smaller now. The moral ledger felt larger.
Aoi's Warning
During a quiet moment, Ethan summoned Aoi into the material world—no longer a companion simply obeying commands, but a consciousness he trusted.
Aoi appeared in a swirl of cerulean mist, ears flicking as she took in the busy outpost.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," she said bluntly. "And pushing them even harder."
"They need to be ready," Ethan answered.
"For what?" Aoi asked. "War? Territory? Or the consequences of your power?"
Ethan froze.
Aoi stepped closer, her voice low. "The more you tame, the more you change the world's balance. Power attracts power."
Ethan looked across the camp—at Mira's cautious rangers, at the former mercenaries carrying logs, at the beginnings of an organization he didn't fully understand yet.
"Maybe," he said quietly, "it's time I stop reacting and start planning."
New Intel
By sunset, Mira returned with fresh information.
She laid a torn insignia on the table—a stylized wolf's head with a mechanical eye.
Harlan swore under his breath. "Black-Eye Pack."
"You know them?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah," Harlan said grimly. "They were the ones hiring us for the van job. And if they've started marking territory this far north…" He shook his head. "They're expanding. Aggressively."
Mira's expression hardened. "This is no longer about bandits. This is a paramilitary movement."
A new mission clicked into place in Ethan's mind—not system-given, but self-chosen.
Protect Greybridge.
Build the organization.
Confront the Black-Eye Pack before they destabilize the region.
The system thrummed faintly, as if approving.
A Quiet Vow
That night, Ethan stood on the small ridge overlooking Greybridge, moonlight catching the woven fences, the flicker of campfires, the silhouettes of men training even after dark.
Power had consequences.
But so did inaction.
He clenched his fist, feeling the faint echo of the override's tethered threads, the weight of both responsibility and potential.
"This time," he whispered to the night, "I build something worth protecting."
Greybridge was no longer a hiding spot.
It was the birthplace of the organization he would forge.
And soon, it would be tested.