The new imperial recruits whispered among themselves—some excited, others silent, their eyes fixed on the horizon as if marching toward the gallows.

When the massive silhouette of Castle Rock finally appeared in the distance, a murmur of awe spread across the deck.

Sky leaned over the railing, his dark sunglasses reflecting the sunlight. It was the first time he had ever seen an imperial harbor. Dozens of warships were docked side by side, while uniformed soldiers rushed back and forth, each absorbed in their assigned duty.

The entire scene resembled a gigantic, perfectly oiled machine—every cog in its place.

Castle Rock was not just a port.

It was a fortified stronghold built on an unusually small island, yet defended like an inescapable prison. Along the walls, towers armed with cannons and mortars dominated the surrounding sea, ready to repel anyone reckless enough to draw near.

At the highest tower flew the banner of the Empire: a red shield encircled by twelve golden stars, crowned by a green laurel crown—symbol of the Emperor’s absolute authority and of the twelve kingdoms that had founded the Empire.

The wind whipped it proudly, as if shouting a warning to anyone who dared to look.

For a brief moment, the sea breeze and the shimmer of the crystal-clear water made the place seem almost idyllic.

Almost.

A sudden roar shattered the illusion.

A mortar blast echoed through the air, followed by two more in quick succession. From the towers, guards were conducting live-fire drills; the thunder of the explosions served as a reminder that this island was not a destination for travelers… it was a fortress.

Sky flinched only slightly—not because of the noise, but because of the realization that he was standing at the very heart of imperial power.

This place was the northern bulwark, the outpost that guarded the seas from pirates and headhunters who plagued the trade routes.

—

The ship docked, and the recruits were ordered to disembark in formation.

With a light, curious step, Sky followed the line, passing through the thick, dark stone walls of the fortress.

In the main courtyard, a group of armed soldiers awaited them, along with a man seated behind a table cluttered with parchments and registers—the camp commander. Nearby, other recruits were already standing in line, being called one by one to be registered and assigned to their quarters.

Each of them received a colored plastic wristband, marking their assignment to a specific unit.

The commander called out the names in a sharp, authoritative voice.

“Tarek Drom! … Mira Falco! …”

Then he looked up and narrowed his eyes.

“Sky Light!”

No answer.

Sky was distracted, busy watching a group of soldiers carrying crates of weapons across the courtyard.

The commander clenched his jaw and grabbed a megaphone.

“SKY LIGHT!”

Sky jolted.

“Huh? What? I’m here!” he replied, raising a hand casually.

The commander sprang to his feet, furious.

“Do you think this is your home, boy? As punishment… one hundred full laps around Castle Rock!”

A deathly silence fell over the courtyard.

Sky stared, mouth open.

Then… he smiled.

“Really? I get to do that? That’s exciting! I’ll start right away!”

For a moment, the commander froze, as if his brain had refused to process that answer.

Meanwhile, Sky was already running… in the wrong direction.

When the commander snapped back to reality, he ordered four other recruits to join Sky in the punishment run.

And so, an unlikely group began circling the fortress.

The first to finish not only completed the hundred laps… but, by mistake, ran a thousand, convinced that was the real goal.

Sky, who had started first, arrived second, collapsing to the ground exhausted—but wearing a satisfied grin.

The last member of the group didn’t even complete a single lap. He chose instead to lie down near the rocks, smoking a cigarette while watching the waves crash against the stone.

The remaining two kept running until nightfall, driven only by pride and the fear of being punished again.

From the Tower

While each of them followed their own fate, high above them, a man watched in silence.

His gaze was dark, unreadable.

He wasn’t interested in the punishment runs.

He was evaluating the recruits—studying them, like a hunter observing prey before striking.

—

Next Episode — Breakfast in Hell