The walk back to the imperial capital was silent.
Calix and Alexander walked side by side, neither one rushing to fill the quiet.
The moon hung high over Greece, bathing the winding stone roads in pale silver. Below them, villages flickered with warm torchlight. Families gathered around evening meals. Children chased one another through narrow streets.
Life continued.
Alexander found himself watching them.
A little boy stumbled while running.
His father laughed before scooping him into his arms.
Alexander looked away.
"…"
Calix noticed.
"You've been thinking."
"I usually am."
"No."
Calix answered.
"Tonight it's different."
Alexander didn't deny it.
Back inside the imperial palace, Nero stood alone upon an open balcony overlooking the Aegean Sea.
The ocean breeze tugged gently at his cloak.
Behind him, Baron entered.
"My Emperor."
"You've returned."
"I have."
Nero never turned around.
"How is Chloe?"
Baron hesitated.
"…Still grieving."
"Good."
Baron blinked.
"…Good?"
Nero finally looked back.
"Not because she's suffering."
"Because she remembers."
He walked back inside.
"The dead disappear twice."
"The first time…"
"When they die."
"The second…"
"When no one remembers their names."
Baron quietly listened.
Nero continued walking through the palace halls.
"Grief means love existed."
"It is painful."
"But necessary."
Baron lowered his head.
"…I understand."
"You don't."
Nero answered calmly.
"…Not yet."
Hundreds of miles away…
The City of Setkhem had begun sleeping.
Torches illuminated its streets.
Markets closed.
Temple bells echoed softly through the night.
Inside the palace…
The recruits had already retired to their quarters.
Except one.
Magnolia stood alone atop one of the palace rooftops.
His father's necklace rested in his hand.
The city stretched endlessly beneath him.
Earlier that day…
He had laughed.
Smiled.
Spent time with friends.
For the first time in months…
He'd almost felt normal.
Almost.
Footsteps approached.
Emma.
She quietly climbed onto the rooftop beside him.
"I figured you'd be here."
Magnolia smiled faintly.
"I didn't."
"You always say that."
"…Do I?"
"You do."
She leaned against the stone railing.
Neither of them spoke immediately.
The stars did enough talking.
Emma finally broke the silence.
"Do you think…"
She looked toward the city.
"…we're becoming what he wanted?"
Magnolia knew exactly who she meant.
The Pharaoh.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead…
He looked toward the streets below.
Families still awake.
Merchants closing their shops.
Children sleeping peacefully beside open windows.
"…I don't know."
He admitted.
"I know we're becoming stronger."
Emma nodded.
"But strength isn't always good."
"No."
He quietly answered.
"It isn't."
Emma glanced toward him.
"You've changed."
Magnolia laughed softly.
"So have you."
"I know."
She smiled.
"I think…"
She searched for the right words.
"…I'm finally not afraid of talking anymore."
"You still blush."
"I know."
"…It's embarrassing."
Magnolia laughed.
"I think it's funny."
Emma lightly punched his shoulder.
"Don't get used to it."
"I probably will."
The two laughed together.
Far below…
General Saijew happened to glance upward while crossing the palace courtyard.
He noticed them standing together.
Talking.
Laughing.
Children.
Exactly as they should be.
He smiled.
Only for a second.
Then he continued walking.
Elsewhere…
Far beneath the palace.
Beneath the stone.
Beneath forgotten tunnels.
Beneath ruins older than Egypt itself…
Something moved.
Slowly.
A deep rumble rolled through the darkness.
Ancient chains shifted.
One massive golden eye opened.
A hiss echoed through the cavern.
Not loud.
Not threatening.
Patient.
Waiting.
A familiar voice drifted through the darkness.
"So…"
Another pause.
"They've begun to change."
The chains creaked again.
"Excellent."
Silence returned.
Only the faint sound of breathing remained.
Not human.
Something older.
Much older.
Far above…
Neither the Pharaoh…
Nor Nero…
Nor any of the children…
Realized that while they prepared each other for war…
Something else…
Had been patiently preparing for them.
The first rays of sunlight crept over the sandstone walls of Setkhem.
The city was already awake.
Merchants arranged pottery beneath woven canopies.
Blacksmiths stoked their furnaces.
Temple bells echoed from the Shrine of Seth.
The palace, however, remained unusually quiet.
Until…
A deafening horn echoed throughout the entire compound.
Every recruit jolted awake.
Matthew nearly rolled out of bed.
"…Five more minutes…"
Another horn blasted.
"I'M UP!"
Minutes later…
Every recruit stood in the main courtyard.
Still half asleep.
Magnolia adjusted the necklace beneath his shirt.
Poison leaned against a column, arms crossed.
Ren yawned openly.
Emma rubbed one eye.
Valentina stretched.
Kibo looked like he hadn't slept at all, mostly because he hadn't.
He'd spent half the night trying to figure out how to fold his wings properly.
General Saijew stood before them.
The Pharaoh watched from a balcony high above.
Silent.
Observing.
Saijew slowly looked across the group.
"I told you yesterday…"
"…your training changes."
He turned.
Behind him stood twelve soldiers.
Each wore different armor.
One carried scrolls.
Another carried farming equipment.
One wore a merchant's robes.
Another, priestly garments.
Matthew blinked.
"…Why are there civilians?"
"They aren't."
Saijew answered.
"They're experts."
He began walking.
"You've all learned how to fight."
"You've all learned how to survive."
"You've all learned how to kill."
He stopped.
"You have learned almost nothing else."
The words stung.
Because they were true.
Saijew pointed toward the first man.
"This…"
"…is Commander Hakor."
The older man stepped forward.
Grey-haired.
Scarred.
Missing his left hand.
"I've commanded armies for forty years."
He looked directly at the recruits.
"I've only fought in seven battles."
Several recruits exchanged confused looks.
Commander Hakor smiled.
"If you're fighting every day…"
"…you're already losing."
He stepped back.
Saijew motioned toward another woman.
"This is Nefer."
She wore simple linen clothing.
No armor.
Only ink stains across her fingers.
"I manage grain."
Matthew frowned.
"…Grain?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"No grain."
"No soldiers."
"No kingdom."
She smiled.
"Wars are won by bread long before they're won by swords."
Abraham immediately began taking mental notes.
Poison quietly muttered,
"…Never thought bread could kill someone."
Ren answered.
"It doesn't."
"It keeps alive the people who do."
Poison glanced sideways.
"…You're getting smarter."
"I always was."
The next instructor stepped forward.
A priest.
His robes were pure white.
"I oversee disputes inside Setkhem."
Luna crossed her arms.
"So…"
"You settle arguments?"
"I prevent murders."
The recruits became noticeably quieter.
He continued.
"Most wars begin because two people fail to speak honestly."
Another instructor approached.
A woman carrying maps.
"I've traveled to Kush."
"Canaan."
"Greece."
"The islands."
She unrolled dozens of maps.
"The world is larger than Egypt."
Her eyes met Magnolia's.
"And larger than your enemy."
Saijew stepped forward once more.
"You'll rotate between every instructor."
"You'll learn."
"You'll question."
"You'll fail."
"And…"
He smiled slightly.
"…you'll still spar."
Matthew groaned.
"I knew it."
Hours later…
The recruits had separated into smaller groups.
Magnolia.
Emma.
Matthew.
Abraham.
They sat beneath a shaded pavilion.
Maps covered the stone table.
The instructor placed several carved wooden figures across them.
"A village."
She pointed.
"Three hundred civilians."
Another figure.
"An enemy force."
"Fifty soldiers."
Then another.
"Your army."
"Twenty."
She folded her hands.
"What do you do?"
Matthew answered first.
"…Fight?"
"No."
Abraham.
"Negotiate?"
"No."
Emma quietly looked over the map.
Then…
Magnolia noticed something.
"The river."
Everyone looked toward him.
He pointed.
"If we destroy the bridge…"
"The enemy has to walk around."
"They lose time."
"They lose supplies."
"No one dies."
The instructor smiled.
"Excellent."
Magnolia blinked.
"…Really?"
"You solved the problem."
"Not the battle."
"The problem."
She nodded approvingly.
"Remember that distinction."
Magnolia silently stared at the map.
For once…
Winning hadn't required punching anyone.
Elsewhere…
Poison.
Ren.
Kibo.
Valentina.
Sous.
Luna.
Practiced negotiation.
The instructor smiled warmly.
"You have one loaf of bread."
"Six hungry families."
"What do you do?"
Poison answered instantly.
"Cut it."
"No."
Ren.
"Find more bread."
"No."
Valentina.
"Grow more."
"No."
Sous quietly raised his hand.
"…Ask who needs it most."
The instructor smiled.
"Better."
Kibo frowned.
"…There's no correct answer, is there?"
The instructor's smile widened.
"No."
"There rarely is."
The group collectively sighed.
"This is harder than fighting."
Poison complained.
Sous nodded.
"It usually is."
High above…
The Pharaoh continued watching from his balcony.
His golden eyes never left the children.
Especially Magnolia.
Especially Ren.
Especially Kibo.
Saijew quietly joined him.
"They're adapting."
"They are."
The Pharaoh answered.
"They're becoming difficult to predict."
Saijew smiled.
"I consider that success."
The Pharaoh remained silent.
His expression impossible to read.
Far below…
The recruits continued learning.
Not how to become stronger.
But how to become wiser.
For the first time since becoming soldiers…
Their greatest weapon wasn't in their hands.
It was beginning to form within their minds.
The afternoon sun settled high above Setkhem.
Hours had passed since the recruits had finished their lessons on agriculture, governance, economics, and diplomacy. Their minds were exhausted in a way none of them expected. Fighting had always tired their bodies. Thinking this much left their heads spinning.
Matthew collapsed backward onto the courtyard grass.
"I've changed my mind."
Poison looked over.
"About what?"
"I'd rather get punched."
Several recruits laughed.
"I don't think I've ever wanted combat training this badly."
Ren sat beneath a nearby pillar.
"…That's because thinking hurts you."
"It hurts everyone."
Matthew answered.
"No."
Ren shrugged.
"Just you."
Before Matthew could reply, General Saijew stepped into the courtyard.
The recruits immediately straightened.
"I've one final lesson for today."
He looked toward the palace gates.
"It isn't something I can teach."
The massive bronze gates slowly groaned open.
Every recruit instinctively turned.
Three figures entered.
The first towered above everyone else.
Nearly seven feet tall.
Broad shoulders.
Bronze skin weathered by decades beneath the Egyptian sun.
Dark steel armor bore dozens of scratches, each one earned rather than polished away. A massive curved sword rested against his shoulder as though it weighed nothing.
His dark eyes scanned the courtyard once.
Every recruit instinctively felt smaller.
Not because he threatened them.
Because he looked like war itself had learned to walk.
General Saijew smiled.
"Kahn."
The giant's stern face softened.
"…Old man."
Several recruits blinked.
Saijew laughed.
"You've gotten uglier."
"So have you."
The two men embraced.
Not gently.
Each struck the other's shoulder hard enough to make Matthew wince.
"You two are trying to kill each other."
Matthew whispered.
Poison quietly answered.
"No."
"This is how old soldiers say hello."
The second figure approached.
Graceful.
Almost silent.
Long black hair flowed behind her, golden rings woven carefully through each strand.
Her emerald eyes calmly studied every recruit.
Unlike Kahn…
She smiled.
Warmly.
But something about that smile still made Poison instinctively tighten his grip around his dagger.
She moved like someone who had already planned three different ways to kill everyone present.
"Asam."
Saijew bowed his head slightly.
"As beautiful as ever."
She laughed.
"And you're still a liar."
The courtyard erupted into quiet chuckles.
Even the Pharaoh, watching from above, smiled faintly.
Finally…
The third figure stepped through the gates.
She couldn't have been older than twenty.
Shoulder-length auburn hair bounced with every step.
A spear rested across her shoulders.
Golden eyes immediately landed on the recruits.
Then…
A grin spread across her face.
"So these are the famous children."
She looked disappointed.
"They're shorter than I expected."
Valentina immediately crossed her arms.
"We can hear you."
"I know."
Arya smiled wider.
"I wanted you to."
Ren sighed.
"…I already don't like her."
"I heard that too."
"I know."
General Saijew cleared his throat before the conversation could continue.
"Everyone."
He stepped between the two groups.
"Allow me to introduce three of the greatest warriors Egypt has ever produced."
He gestured toward Kahn.
"Lord Kahn."
"Warlord of Bubastis."
"Protector of the eastern Delta."
He motioned toward Asam.
"Lady Asam."
"Master strategist."
"Commander of Bubastis' intelligence network."
Several recruits exchanged glances.
That explained why Poison couldn't get a proper read on her.
Then…
He gestured toward Arya.
"And…"
"The woman who refuses to stop challenging everyone older than herself."
Arya proudly nodded.
"That's accurate."
"As second-in-command of Bubastis…"
"As well as the youngest commander in its history…"
"…Arya."
She waved enthusiastically.
"Hi."
Matthew waved back.
Poison slowly lowered his hand.
"…Don't encourage her."
General Saijew turned back toward his recruits.
"You've heard stories about these three."
"You've probably assumed most were exaggerated."
Kahn finally spoke.
His deep voice rolled across the courtyard.
"They weren't."
Silence.
The recruits stared.
Kahn looked toward Saijew.
"You told them stories?"
"I had to motivate them somehow."
"You could've used the truth."
"I did."
"No."
"You left out the embarrassing parts."
Asam laughed.
"You mean the time you challenged an elephant?"
Matthew's eyes widened.
"…You fought an elephant?"
Kahn looked annoyed.
"…I lost."
Arya burst into laughter.
"You didn't lose."
"You got thrown."
"I lost."
Saijew couldn't stop laughing.
"You flew."
"I remember."
"You screamed."
"I did not."
"You absolutely screamed."
Even the Pharaoh quietly chuckled from above.
The recruits looked at one another in disbelief.
These legends…
These heroes…
Argued like family.
Saijew eventually regained his composure.
"You all know the previous Pharaoh."
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
His smile disappeared.
"So do they."
He looked toward Kahn.
"Before any of you were born…"
"We fought together."
Kahn nodded once.
"There wasn't much talking."
"There was mostly bleeding."
Asam folded her arms.
"And complaining."
"You complained constantly."
Kahn looked toward her.
"I was stabbed."
"You complained before you were stabbed."
Arya covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Saijew smiled.
"The current Pharaoh…"
"…was beside us."
The recruits immediately looked toward the balcony.
The Pharaoh simply watched quietly.
"We overthrew a tyrant."
Saijew continued.
"We buried friends."
"We watched kingdoms rise."
"We watched kingdoms fall."
He looked toward his recruits.
"The three standing before you…"
"…helped build the peace you've spent your entire lives living in."
Silence settled across the courtyard.
Magnolia quietly stared at Kahn.
At Asam.
At Arya.
These weren't merely warriors.
They were history.
Kahn slowly stepped forward.
His enormous shadow fell across every recruit.
"I've fought men twice my size."
"I've fought monsters."
"I've fought gods."
He looked directly at Magnolia.
"None of them frightened me."
His eyes shifted toward every child.
"But children…"
"They always do."
Confusion spread across several faces.
Kahn rested one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Because children become adults."
"And adults…"
"…shape history."
Asam stepped beside him.
"You've spent years learning how to fight."
She smiled softly.
"We're here to teach you why."
Arya planted the butt of her spear against the stone.
"And after that…"
Her grin returned.
"I'm allowed to spar with all of you."
Matthew's face lit up.
"Finally!"
Ren muttered under his breath.
"…We're doomed."
Arya pointed directly at him.
"You."
Ren blinked.
"…Me?"
"I like your attitude."
"I don't."
"Perfect."
She smiled.
"You're first tomorrow."
The recruits laughed.
For the first time all day…
Combat sounded fun again.
High above the courtyard, Pharaoh Neitiqerty Siptah folded his hands behind his back.
His eyes lingered on Kahn.
Then Asam.
Old friends.
Old comrades.
Men and women who had once believed they had already seen every challenge the world could offer.
He knew better.
Because the greatest battle either side would ever face…
Had not begun yet.