Chapter 58
The Kruger Induction Camp was nothing like the El'Vertigo academies.
No velvet carpets. No ceremony. Just concrete walls, iron grates, and the constant thrum of drills and screaming. Pablo stood in formation beneath the blistering sun of Moonbase Helix, the air thin, the gravity heavy, sweat burning down his spine as if the planet wanted him gone.
"Name?" the drill officer barked.
"Pablo," he said, stopping himself from finishing with El'Vertigo. "Initiate-class. No sigil."
The officer smirked. "A noble who crawled here without a name. You'll fit right in."
Around him, the recruits—battle-born or broken—glanced with suspicion. Some whispered. That's him. The one with the Leviathan. The Blood Apostle's shadow.
Let them whisper. Pablo didn't come to make friends.
He came to become something harder than his name.
[Kyros One – The Ridge, Hour 1]
Kiro stood atop the red escarpment, his crimson cloak rippling in the wind. Below him, his fledgling settlement still smoked from their frantic construction—half-built walls, improvised forges, training fields of dust and sweat. All of it now cast beneath the dark shadow of Arion ships.
They had promised twenty hours to surrender.