The cathedral's briefing hall shimmered with stained-glass reflections, each shard of color breaking over polished marble and steel insignias that marked the Church's dominion. The air carried the scent of oil and incense , sacred and military all at once ,the scent of a world that had learned to kneel and fight at the same time.
Rothan Greaves stood at the head of the war table, arms folded behind his back. His eyes swept across the young soldiers gathered before him Elijah Valemont, Kael Voss, Lira D'Mont and Arlen Voss before turning toward the pair entering the room under escort: Cyrus Holt and Seraphina Vale.
"Now that everyone's here," Rothan began, his voice steady, echoing faintly beneath the cathedral dome, "let's get this over with. You've been assembled as Unit Seven of the Church's Vanguard Division, operating under direct authorization of the War Council."
Cyrus stood straight-backed beside Seraphina, whose calm gaze scanned the room with the serene poise of someone used to being watched. Rothan's tone grew heavier.
"Your mission is reconnaissance and confirmation. You'll depart first for FortAlbrecht , the staging zone. Once there, you'll reorganize, resupply, and move toward the Ruins of Tavelle, an abandoned village recently turned battlefield. Reports indicate demon activity, but… there's more."
He tapped the map on the table.
"Intelligence suggests human forces have been sighted alongside the demons. Possible collaboration. Your objectives: infiltration, intelligence extraction, and if necessary, sabotage. Once confirmation is achieved, a strike division will follow your signal."
Silence blanketed the hall.
Rothan's gaze lingered on each of them.
"Dismissed. Prepare yourselves. You have the rest of the day to make your farewells."
The soldiers saluted in unison, boots striking the marble.
As the group dispersed, Elijah turned to leave, but Rothan's voice caught him mid-step.
"Elijah."
The young man turned back.
Rothan's expression softened with a less Commander, more something older, familiar.
"Your father calls for you."
For a brief second, Elijah's composure slipped,his calm, sharp features melting into something close to surprise.
"He's here?"
"He is," Rothan said with a faint smile. "And knowing him… he won't rest easy until he's seen you."
Elijah sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I should've guessed."
"You know he was against your placement in this unit," Rothan added. "Tried to appeal the order. The Council overruled him."
"Really?" Elijah chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Alright, I'll go see him."
As he walked away, Rothan's voice softened, almost a whisper meant for no one but the fading light.
"Oh, how time flies. You've raised your son well, EliValemont."
---
The military complex stood at the edge of the holy district , white stone walls veined with gold sigils, silent corridors lit by candlelight. Elijah's boots clicked lightly as he made his way inside, his expression unreadable, though the faint crease at his brow betrayed him.
Should I just turn back? he thought. No… that'd only make it worse.
He reached the reception, gave his name, and was escorted up to the private quarters. When the door opened, he found his father standing by a tall window overlooking the garden ,sunlight filtering through glass, resting over the man's shoulders like a crown he didn't ask for.
"You called for me, Father," Elijah said.
EliValemont didn't turn immediately. His voice was calm, almost playful.
"What kind of son gets promoted and doesn't even tell his father? Were you planning to sneak off without saying goodbye?"
Elijah shifted awkwardly.
"I didn't want to worry you. You'd… probably find a way to drag this out."
Eli turned, finally, and the warmth in his tone was replaced by something sharper the old soldier's edge that never left him.
"You're right. I would've."
Then, after a pause, his gaze hardened.
"You have to quit the mission."
Elijah blinked. "What?"
"Resign. I can handle the paperwork quietly. You'll be reassigned to border command. It's safer."
"No, Father."
"Elijah, listen to me-"
"Isaidno!"
The air thickened, tension coiling like drawn steel between them.
Then Eli smiled.
"Good." He turned toward the door. "Follow me."
---
The courtyard garden was quiet , the hum of cicadas filling the space between them. Elijah's eyes flicked around, taking in the unfamiliar space.
Eli stepped onto the path ahead, rolling his shoulders.
"What are you waiting for, son? You already know how this goes."
And then they moved.
A flash of boots over stone, a flurry of strikes and counters. Eli's blows came hard, each movement heavy with precision and age-earned strength. Elijah met him step for step faster, more fluid, his movements echoing the elegance of another presence long gone.
They broke apart after a final clash, both standing just inside striking range, breathing evenly.
Eli laughed.
"That counter… that was your mother's move, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Elijah said quietly.
The older man's smile softened.
"She'd be proud of you. You've grown well."
He stepped forward, resting a firm hand on his son's shoulder.
"Promise me you'll take care of yourself out there. No reckless heroics."
"I promise."
"Then you have my blessing."
The two embraced briefly, the silence between them filled with every unspoken word they'd never needed to say.
"May your mother watch over you," Eli whispered.
---
By dusk, the cathedral courtyard glowed under amber light. The team gathered by the transport carriers engines purring softly as clergy officers marked each vehicle with blessing runes.
Kael leaned against a crate, adjusting his gloves while Lira stood nearby, arms folded, watching him with her usual half-smile. Arlen was checking their dispatch forms with typical focus, while Cyrus and Seraphina stood a little apart quiet, unreadable.
Elijah approached, the faintest trace of a smile crossing his face.
"Everyone ready?"
Kael looked up. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Lira smirked. "That means he's not ready."
"Lira...stop."
"Awww you're just so cute,."
Their banter drew faint amusement from Arlen. Cyrus exhaled a sigh ,half tolerance, half familiarity. Seraphina just watched, a glint of restrained warmth in her eyes.
Rothan's voice came through the comms.
"Unit Seven, proceed to Fort Albrecht. The Church watches over you."
Elijah turned, gaze drifting up toward the fading sky. For a moment, he thought of his father, of that last look, that quiet pride.
May your mother watch over you…
He tightened his gloves and stepped onto the carrier ramp.
"Alright then," he murmured, the engines roaring to life. "Let's move."
The convoy pulled away from the cathedral gates seven shadows against a dying sun, headed toward the unknown.