The library remained silent for a moment, the soft crackle of the lanterns the only sound. Leo's gaze wandered across the library, the shelves heavy with history, secrets, and knowledge of ages past. And yet, no amount of books could shield him from the intensity of her presence, the quiet unearthing of truths he wasn't ready to confront.

Finally, he spoke again, voice low. "I'll... keep looking. I just... want to understand."

Eliza nodded slowly, her expression unreadable but not unkind. "Be careful," she said simply, almost as a warning, almost as advice. "The past you chase may not want to be found. And some truths... are better approached cautiously."

Leo absorbed her words, letting the weight settle around him, a mixture of relief, tension, and unspoken understanding. 

He lingered for a moment longer, feeling the air of the room, the glow of the lanterns, the soft presence of Eliza beside him. Then, slowly, he rose. "Thank you," he murmured.

Eliza gave him a small, enigmatic smile. "You're welcome... "

He stepped back into the corridor, the mansion's shadows swallowing him as he made his way to his room. The weight of the night pressed on him, but for the first time since the trials, there was a flicker of understanding—of clarity, of an unspoken alliance.

Even when he lay down, sleep refused to come. The memory of her gaze, the faint glow in her eyes, and the half-truths he carried kept him awake.

Outside, the mansion lay silent.
Inside, the night was far from over.

**********************

Chapter 11 – A Unit of Storms

Leo stood with Jack and Ralph, his hand still brushing the edge of the bandage. 

Jack leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "What do you think — did we make it?"

Ralph shook his head slowly, his fingers tapping against the wall lightly. "If Leo didn't make it… then none of us stood a chance."

Jack said nothing. Instead, his gaze swept across the hall, lingering on the cadets gathered around the central platform. Envelopes rested there, sealed with the imperial crest — each one holding a verdict that could shape a future. Some whispered in tight circles, anxiety spilling into nervous laughter and restless movements. Others, those who had failed the final trial or barely survived it, sat slumped against the walls, their eyes hollow and pale.

An officer climbed onto the platform, his uniform whispering against the stone steps. Silence fell almost instantly. Even the distant clatter from the training grounds seemed muted.

"Candidates," he began, his voice deep and unwavering, "the results of the military examination are final. Those who have succeeded will be recognized and assigned to their units immediately."

Jack leaned close to Leo, whispering, "Ready to see who makes it?"

Leo exhaled slowly. "Alright… let's finish this."

The officer began calling names.

Candidates moved forward one by one to claim their envelopes, hands shaking, eyes wide with hope or fear.

"Ralph Alger."

Ralph stepped forward, trying to stay composed. His grip on the envelope tightened, though Leo caught the faint tremor in his shoulders before he broke the seal. Ralph scanned the parchment, then let out a slow breath, relief softening his features. He glanced back at Leo, a small smile forming.
"We made it," he said quietly, his voice rough.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Told you we would."

Leo let his attention drift, watching the others. Some candidates who had faltered during the trial hadn't even touched their envelopes. Others, who had struggled in earlier drills, now stared at their results with disbelief and quiet pride. The hall seemed to breathe with every reaction — whispers, shifting feet, and fleeting looks of triumph or despair.

Then the room fell silent again as the officers' gaze swept across the crowd.

"Leo Vail."

The words echoed louder than they should have. Heads turned. Some candidates froze mid-step as the whispers faded, leaving only a heavy silence.

Leo stepped forward, each movement slow and deliberate. His boots clicked against the stone, the sound echoing like a drumbeat in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the envelope, the imperial seal catching the morning light — a quiet symbol of approval and responsibility.

He broke the seal slowly, as if time itself had stretched. As the parchment unfolded, a single word came into focus:

Passed.

Nothing more. No celebration. Just a quiet acknowledgment that he had endured.

Jack leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face.
"Looks like the impossible kid made it. Who would've thought?"

Leo tucked the parchment into his tunic. Across from him, Jack folded his own notice with a satisfied grin — he had made it too. Relief settled over Leo, though a faint unease lingered beneath it, the memories of the trial still pressing against him, the crimson haze gnawing at the edges of his mind.

The instructor's voice cut through the moment.
"Now, unit assignments." He unrolled a second scroll, thicker and heavier than the first. "Listen well. Where you go from here will define the shape of your service… and your survival."

A murmur moved through the hall before quickly dying down. This was no longer just about passing. Assignments meant status, risk, and the path each of them would walk from this day forward.

Names were called one after another — most directed toward the standard infantry, support divisions, and scouting corps that made up the backbone of the empire's military. But occasionally, a different title surfaced, and the atmosphere shifted.

Whispers followed those rare designations.

Five units stood apart from the rest — spoken of in lower voices, marked by reputation alone: Arcane Sentinels, Crypt Keepers, Phantom Brigade, Oblivion Regiment, and the most enigmatic of all, Eclipse of Astral. No explanations were given, and none were needed. Everyone understood that these were ranks few ever reached.

"Ralph Alger — Arcane Sentinels."

A ripple of surprise moved through the crowd. Ralph stiffened slightly before stepping forward, quiet pride flickering beneath his calm exterior.

"Jack Marrow — Oblivion Regiment."

This time the whispers sharpened, curiosity and unease mixing together. Jack's grin widened, though his eyes gleamed with something more serious beneath it.

Leo watched as his friends absorbed their assignments, each giving a curt nod — Ralph with quiet acceptance, Jack with a smirk of satisfaction.
Then came a pause.

"Leo Vail — Eclipse of Astral."

The reaction was immediate. A ripple of whispers spread across the hall — surprise, curiosity, and something harder to name. Eclipse of Astral was rarely spoken of openly, its reputation wrapped in rumor and silence. Even among the other special units, it stood apart, distant and unknowable.

Someone near the back muttered under their breath, "They actually assigned someone there?"

Another voice, quieter and edged with unease, replied, "No one really knows what happens inside that unit."

Leo felt every eye on him. The instructor offered no explanation, no comfort.
"Report to the West Barracks at dawn tomorrow. Dismissed."

The hall slowly began to empty, the murmur of voices fading into the distance. Jack and Ralph lingered for a moment, trading looks with Leo that carried a silent understanding — whatever paths lay ahead, they were no longer the same.

Ralph clasped Leo's shoulder.
"Eclipse of Astral, huh… Just keep your head low. And if you can't, make sure you keep moving forward."

Jack smirked, though a faint shadow lingered in his eyes.
"I'd wish you luck, Leo, but from what I've seen… luck's the least of what you'll need."

Leo gave them both a quiet nod and turned away. Their words stayed with him as he stepped into the cold morning air. Sunlight cut across the courtyard, brushing over frost-specked grass and the worn stone paths of the academy. His breath rose in pale mist as he made his way toward the West Barracks.

The West Barracks lay apart from the rest of the academy's orderly grounds, at the far edge of the military compound where polished stone gave way to hardened earth. The path wound through a quieter section of the base, past weapon stores and supply sheds, the distant clang of drills muffled as if the buildings themselves swallowed the sound. Even the usual buzz of candidates was absent here, replaced by a tense, watchful stillness.

....

A murmur drifted from a pair of soldiers walking in the opposite direction.

"They say Eclipse of Astral rarely takes anyone new."

"Rarely? More like never. That unit's wrapped in shadows. No one really knows what they are… only that they're not like the others."

Leo didn't flinch. If the rumors were true, then this was exactly where he needed to be.

By the time he reached the heavy iron-banded doors, the sun had risen enough to cast a thin blade of light through the narrow windows above. The scent reached him first — oiled leather, cold steel, and the faint bite of gunpowder. Even without rifles in sight, the air carried a quiet readiness for chaos.

Inside, the space felt rough yet functional. Maps hung at uneven angles, their edges curled from years of use. Dented crates lined the corners, and scattered gear rested across worn tables, polished but clearly handled often. It wasn't what Leo had imagined — the room was cleaner than expected, almost orderly, but a quiet sense of experience lingered in every detail.

A half-dozen figures turned as he entered, their eyes measuring him. The attention wasn't hostile, but it was sharp and deliberate, silently weighing his presence.

A broad-shouldered man in his mid-thirties stepped forward, deep blue eyes calm yet distant, as if they carried stories he had no intention of sharing. His features were thick and pleasant, but there was something unreadable beneath the surface — a stillness that drew attention without asking for it. Dark hair was tied loosely behind his head, a few strands falling across his forehead as he watched Leo in silence for a brief moment.

"Ashton Cohen," he said finally, his voice low and steady. The captain's faint smile didn't fully reach his eyes, leaving an air of quiet mystery around him. "It's been a while since Eclipse of Astral welcomed someone new. Let's see where you stand, Leo."

His smile was easy, unforced, but there was no mistaking the command embedded in it. Respect here wasn't demanded—it was earned, and he expected Leo to rise to it.

He gestured to the others as if introducing them to a roomful of old friends.

A woman leaned back in her chair, boots resting against the edge of the table. Auburn hair framed her sharp features, and her eyes held a faint, knowing glint.
"Carly," she said softly. "Don't expect kindness here, Leo… but you're welcome."

From the dimmer corner of the room, a tall, lean man stepped forward, his gaze cool and precise.
"Barrett." He gave a slight nod. "I watch before I trust."

A younger soldier with tousled hair lifted a hand in a brief, almost lazy greeting, though the quiet challenge in his posture never faded.
"Cyrus. Keep up, and we'll get along."

Another figure adjusted the strap of his harness with careful, practiced movements — clean-cut, composed.
"Gavin," he said simply. "Competence matters more than confidence."

At the far wall, a woman straightened from her relaxed stance, her gaze steady and unhurried as it settled on Leo.
"Bridget," she murmured. "Eclipse doesn't slow down for anyone."

Each introduction landed with weight, the combination of voices and glances forming a subtle test. Leo didn't flinch. He noted everything—the subtle cues in posture, the unspoken challenge in eyes, the confidence in tone. This was a unit of people who had survived their own battles and had no time for weakness.

The weight of Eclipse of Astral settled around him. Here, no one spoke of weakness — only survival. Some created the storm, some endured it, and now he stood among them.

The introductions ended with small nods and faint, unreadable smiles. Unlike other units, there was no loud welcome or easy camaraderie. Their acceptance felt quieter, measured — the kind given only after careful observation. It had been years since anyone new had stepped into this room, and the subtle curiosity in their eyes never quite faded.

"Find your bunk, Leo," Ashton said, his voice calm but firm. "Third row, end corner. Gear ready at all times. Eclipse doesn't wait to be called."

Leo gave a brief nod and moved, aware of every gaze following him — not hostile, not welcoming, simply assessing.

The bunk assigned to him was worn smooth from years of use but meticulously maintained. Dents and faint scratches marked the wood, silent traces of those who had come before. He brushed his fingers along the surface, feeling the quiet history beneath it.

From across the room, Carly's voice cut through the silence, light but edged.

"You any good with blades and guns, Leo?"

Leo glanced up. "Good enough."

Her smirk widened, a flash of humor hiding a razor-sharp edge.

"We'll see. Around here, 'good enough' usually means dead."

The others didn't laugh. That quiet acknowledgment told him more than any words ever could: this unit operated on a different scale, where mistakes were costly and nothing was assumed.

Leo's gaze moved across the room again, lingering on each member. Barrett's precise movements, Cyrus's quiet defiance, Gavin's measured calm, Bridget's sharp observation, Carly's restrained edge, and Ashton's steady authority — together, they carried a presence that felt far beyond ordinary. Eclipse of Astral was spoken of more in silence than in praise, a unit wrapped in rumor and shadow. Now he began to understand why. It wasn't just their skill, but the weight each of them carried, as if the balance of a battlefield could shift with a single decision.

He felt a thrill, a certainty deep in his chest: this was the unit for him. Not the easiest, safest, or most orderly. But the one that would push him to his limits and beyond.

Ashton clapped him on the shoulder again.

"Just keep up and don't fall behind. The rest works itself out."

Leo pressed his lips into a small, determined line. Somewhere deep inside, he felt it—the stirrings of something more than training, more than trials.

"Ready for your first briefing, Leo?" Ashton's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Ready," Leo said, gripping his pack straps with quiet determination.

"Good. You'll learn fast—here, reputation is earned by survival, not words."

As Leo followed Ashton to the briefing table, he felt the hum of the barracks behind him—the subtle shift of bodies, the whispers of movement, the tension in the air. Each member radiated energy, strength, and danger. And he knew, with a clarity that settled in his chest, that he had found the unit that would push him beyond limits.

For the first time since the trials, Leo felt a quiet spark of excitement — not loud or reckless, just steady and real. He wasn't just a candidate anymore. He had stepped into something larger, something that would test him and change him in ways he couldn't yet see.

read next chapter to complete this --->