Dawn broke cold over the Silent Edge compound. Fog appeared from the recruits’ mouths as they stood in formation. Twenty remained...four fewer than the night before.

“Count!” Wu Jin said, voice sharp as steel.

“Twenty present, sir." Assistant instructor yelled out.

Wu Jin scanned the line. “Good. Four less to worry about.”

CRACK.

His wooden rod struck the stone. “Wall runs. Two hours. Bare hands. Bare feet. No qi. If you can’t touch the top...you don’t eat. We don’t waste rations on the weak.” No one dared to speak. Instructors took positions near the towering wall.

The recruits surged forward. Hands grasped, feet slipped, skin scraped. The wall showed no mercy. One boy reached the top of the wall about twenty minutes in, exhaling, sitting with a triumphant grin. Arms stretched out behind him. “Sigh...i did it!”

CRACK.

Wu Jin slammed the rod beside the boys fingers. “Did I say you could rest because you completed a simple task?” The recruits froze, fear rippled like wind through dry grass. Wu Jin saw it. In fact, its exactly what he wanted. Fear...fear was a great motivator.

Blue glanced to his left, breath ragged. One recruit climbed effortlessly up and down, up and down...his motions seamless. No hesitation. No struggle. Just elegance. The name didn’t come to Blue yet, but that boy wasn’t normal.

When the two hours had ended, Wu Jin barked again. “Last night I told you to bring the Twilight Flow scrolls with you. Amazingly none of you dropped it during the wall runs. Keep them with you. At all times. During training. Spars. When you eat, even when you sleep. It does not leave your body, nor does it touch the ground.”

That damned wooden rod again...”Those who didn’t bring them today, raise your hands.” A few recruits hesitated expecting to be dismissed or beaten. Wu Jin tossed fresh scrolls to them. “This is the last time I’ll be lenient. Practice...even when no one is watching.”

CRACK.

“Now, you have one hour. Twilight flow. Master it. Begin.”

For the next hour, the Silent Edge recruits practiced the strange, flowing form of the Twilight Flow technique. You could hear the scrolls moving in the wind. Murmurs of recruits that are lost. Some sit quietly and stare at the scroll like reading a lost language. Blue sat, Lotus position. Fingers poised. Breath synced with the subtle shifts of their muscles. Blue’s system blinked to life.

[Twilight flow synchronization: 15%]

“Stillness is where blades are sharpened. Carry on”

 No tag. No voice. But eerily...familiar.

Another CRACK.

“Hour is up. Now. Spars. Three fights. No Breaks. Win. Or starve” Wu Jin’s voice cuts through the air.

“Ilho!” Wu Jin instructed as he pointed his wooden rod toward the center of the dirt ring. The ring carved from the dust and stone while the recruits practiced their breathing technique

Ilho, the silent boy from earlier...the one running up and down the wall...entered the circle. “Whomever wants to fight step forward.”

And so it began. One by one, Ilho took them down. Clean footwork. Fluid Motion. Technique over flash. After his third win, Wu Jin tossed him a ration bag. “Eat.’ Ilho caught it without flinching, as he turned, Wu Jin’s face remained calm, but his eyes lingered a little longer than usual. A whisper under his breath. “I knew he was something.”

As Ilho sat behind the recruits, arms loose around his knees, memories drifted in… He hadn’t been born into a sect. He had no clan. He was an orphan who survived a monster attack by hiding beneath his father’s corpse. He scrounged for scraps, fought for every breath. Like most recruits of Silent Edge. Wu Jin found him when he was 18, offered him not a family...but a place. Silent Edge wasn’t home to geniuses or successors, Wu Jin was the exception. It was made of misfits. Throwaways. The forgotten.

Back in the sparing ring, the fights continued. Kang Yeom won his match with a raw shoulder slam, roaring like a bull as he took his ration bag with pride. Han Ryu bled but refused to fall, winning by sheer grit alone. And Do Jinho? He moved slow, deliberate, and unshakable. His oppnent struck first, fast and wild. Jinho parried, stepped aside and swept low with a well-timed leg kick. The boy slammed into the dirt. Jinho didn’t gloat, he simply stepped back, bowed once, and received his rations.

Each victory came with the same result...rations tossed without praise. Just survival.

CRACK.

Wu Jin’s Wooden rod smacks the ground. “Blue!” he barked. “Enjoying the scenery? Here. Now. Fight or starve. Your choice.”

Blue stood, wiped his hands and stepped forward. The first recruit stepped forward. With a hungry like swiftness swept Blue’s legs and planted a firm foot on his chest. The next ended quite similarly. The last opponent stepped in...the only other recruit left without a win.

“One eats. One leaves,” Wu Jin said. “Begin.”

Blue and the recruit both rushed in. Blue tried to imitate what he saw from Ilho earlier. A feint to the right...a step left...”Oh shit.” Blue’s body didn’t keep up. As Blues eyes widened all he could see was a fist connecting right into his nose. Out of pure instinct, Blue threw a punch at the same time...Landing right on the recruits solar plexus. THUD. Both fell. Neither could rise.

Wu Jin stared at both recruits. Waiting for one to get up, one to claim their rations. Neither moved. Wu Jin tossed rations at both of them. A voice appeared in Blue’s head. It was Wu Jin...Do better.

By evening, the day’s training had ended. Blue sat beneath the dim light of the a flickering torch. Eating what was left of the dinner rations handed out for the day. Ilho approached him, arms crossed. “You know...imitation is a form of flattery.”

Blue didn’t even look up. He kept chewing with the urgency of a squirrel hording nuts for winter. Ilho raised a brow. “I’d be flattered,” Ilho said, “If what I saw today even resembled imitation.”

Blue turned his head, cheeks puffed out, mouthed overstuffed. “DwEeN TeEcH MwEeE.” Ilho blinked. “What!?” Blue swallowed hard, thumped his chest and repeated. “Then teach me.”

Ilho’s grin widened. “Stand. Fight. Now.”

Blue stood tall and snapped a fake salute. “Sir, yes sir. Three fights. Win or starve!” They fell into a lazy spar, neither going full force. Ilho jabbed halfheartedly and barked, “Feet. Move. Here.” Blue danced to the side and replied with exaggerated sharpness, “No resting if you finish a simple task!”

Ilho barked, “Wall runs. Two hours. No qi!” Blue struck a pose, hands curled behind his back like Wu Jin, “Bare feet. Bare hands!” “Touch the top or starve!” They both collapsed backward, clutching their sides in laughter “You know if he hears us…” Ilho said between gasps. Blue wiped his eyes, “We’re dead.”

In the shadows beyond the sparring grounds. Wu Jin watched from his usual perch, arms folded. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Birds of a feather…” He muttered under his breath. “Looks like things might get interesting now.”