Chapter 119: Pathetic
The main training hall rang loud with the clash of steel and shouted commands by the time Julian reached it, rows of Sentinels and Guides working through drills under Reid and Jayden’s watchful, exacting supervision.
Julian slipped in through the side entrance, hood still drawn up loose around his shoulders, unnoticed amid the organized chaos of the training session already well underway.
"again," Reid barked, watching a cluster of younger Sentinels stumble through a defensive formation drill with visible frustration. "that’s not a formation, that’s five people standing near each other hoping for the best. if a rogue breaks through that gap on your left, Tomlin’s dead before he even registers the hit."
The Sentinel in question flushed, adjusting his stance hastily.
"again," Reid said, unmoved. "from the top."
Jayden worked a separate cluster nearby, gold light flickering steady around his fists as he demonstrated a strike pattern, voice sharp with the same exacting standard Reid was holding. "you’re telegraphing every single swing," he said, correcting a young Guide’s stance with brisk, efficient hands. "an actual Aberration will read that half a second before you commit, and half a second is more than enough time for it to gut you. tighten it up."
Julian watched from the shadowed edge of the hall, arms crossed, something faintly amused flickering behind his calm expression as he observed the training unfold. The formations were sloppy in places, the strikes lacking the kind of brutal economy he’d learned surviving three years on a collapsing wall, and it was clear, watching Reid and Jayden’s increasingly sharp corrections, that both of them had reached the same conclusion he had.
"that’s still pathetic," Reid said, not bothering to soften the assessment as another formation drill fell apart under pressure. "you’re supposed to be defending this line, not politely inviting whatever’s on the other side of it to walk straight through."
"Commander, with respect," one of the Sentinels said, breathless and clearly frustrated, "we’ve been running this drill for two hours straight—"
"and you’re still getting it wrong," Reid said flatly. "which means we run it until you get it right, or until you’re too exhausted to make the same mistake twice. I’d rather you collapse from exhaustion in this hall than get torn apart making this exact error against something that actually wants you dead."
Jayden’s cluster fared no better, several younger Guides visibly flagging under the relentless pace, though nobody dared complain given the grim, exacting focus radiating off both instructors.
’they’re pushing hard,’ Julian thought, watching with careful, calculating attention. ’harder than usual, from the look of everyone’s exhaustion.’
He understood why, even without asking. The entity had promised to return. Whatever the capital had survived during those six catastrophic weeks, both Reid and Jayden clearly intended to make sure it never caught the Empire unprepared again, drilling every scrap of complacency out of every Sentinel and Guide under their command with grim, unyielding determination.
Julian pushed off the wall and moved further into the hall, still unnoticed, watching the drills with a critical eye of his own now, cataloguing every weakness with the same clinical focus he’d once applied to mapping barricade weak points on the wall.
’too slow on the pivot,’ he thought, watching one formation crumble under a simulated flanking maneuver. ’too much wasted motion. they’re fighting like people who expect to have time to recover from a mistake.’
He drifted closer to Reid’s cluster, still unnoticed among the chaos, and watched a young Sentinel fumble through a basic parry sequence, blade angle wrong by several careless degrees.
"your grip’s too loose," Julian said, quiet and conversational, stepping up beside the startled Sentinel without announcement.
The young man jumped, spinning to find a hooded stranger standing at his elbow, and startled further at the easy, familiar authority in the observation. "who—"
"loose grip means the impact travels straight up into your wrist instead of absorbing through your whole arm," Julian continued, unbothered by the confusion, reaching out to adjust the Sentinel’s hand with quick, practiced efficiency. "tighter here, angle the blade about ten degrees further out. you’ll lose less force on contact, and you’ll recover your stance faster after the strike lands."
The Sentinel blinked, testing the adjustment experimentally, surprise crossing his face at how much more solid the motion suddenly felt.
"that’s— actually better," he admitted.
Reid’s head turned sharply at the exchange, some old, familiar instinct catching on the voice even through the hood, and his whole body went rigid the instant recognition crashed home.
"Julian," he said, voice carrying clear enough that half the hall turned to look.
Julian glanced up, entirely unbothered by the sudden attention, pulling his hood back with easy, unhurried motion. "hi," he said mildly.
The training hall fell into stunned, disbelieving silence, dozens of Sentinels and Guides staring toward the hooded stranger who’d apparently just corrected a fellow trainee’s technique with casual, offhand expertise, only to reveal himself as the very Guide half the Empire had spent weeks searching for.
"you’re supposed to be resting," Reid said, crossing the hall fast, exasperation and relief tangling together in equal measure.
"I was resting," Julian said. "then I went to test my powers. then I got insulted by three Sentinels who didn’t know who I was. now I’m here, watching you run people into the ground and calling it training."
Jayden approached from the other side, something amused flickering behind his own exhausted focus. "he’s not wrong that it’s brutal," he admitted. "but it’s necessary. we can’t afford complacency, not with that thing having promised to come back."
"I know," Julian said, something more serious settling behind his calm expression now. "which is exactly why I think you’re doing this wrong."
The hall’s murmuring quieted at that, several Sentinels exchanging uncertain, curious glances.
"wrong how," Reid said, arms crossing, genuine curiosity cutting through his exasperation.
"you’re drilling them like they’ll have time to recover from mistakes," Julian said, gesturing toward the exhausted, straining formations still scattered across the hall. "clean strikes, proper form, careful positioning — all useful, sure, in an ordinary fight. but what’s coming isn’t ordinary. I fought that thing’s illusion myself. it doesn’t care about clean technique. it cares about whether you break, whether grief and fear crack you open faster than exhaustion does."
Reid’s jaw tightened, something grim and considering settling behind his exhausted eyes. "So you’re saying we’re training the wrong thing entirely."
"I’m saying," Julian said, "that survival against something like that isn’t about perfect form. it’s about what you do when perfect form completely falls apart and you’re still standing there, terrified, exhausted, and out of good options." His gaze swept across the hall’s assembled Sentinels and Guides, calm and serious. "that’s a different kind of training. and if you want them ready for what’s actually coming, I think I might be able to help."