At the Safe Zone, Kade slammed his fist against the reinforced door.
"Let us out!" he roared at the guard officers.
"Negative," one of them replied, weapon held firm. "Orders are absolute. No cadet leaves this zone."
"You don't understand!" Kade's claws scraped against the metal. "Juli's out there!"
"Then he made his choice," the officer said coldly. "We're not opening this door."
Pam stood behind Kade, arms crossed. Her jaw was tight. "This is pointless. They won't budge."
"We can't just sit here!" Kade whirled on her, tail lashing.
Tessa sat on a bench, knees pulled to her chest. She was shaking.
Another cadet nearby overheard Kade's outburst. "Wait, someone said the intruder's name was Ragnar, right? From the Claw Sector?"
Kade's ears twitched. "Yeah. Why?"
"You're from there too, aren't you?" The cadet's face had gone pale. "Do you know who he is?"
Kade's expression darkened. He walked back toward the group, his voice dropping low. "Everyone in Claw Sector knows Ragnar. He's a legend. And not the good kind."
Several cadets gathered closer, listening.
"He was exiled years ago," Kade continued. "Killed a tribal chief on his home planet. Brutally. No one knows exactly why, but the method was..." He trailed off, searching for words. "They say he tore the chief apart with his bare hands. Left pieces scattered across the throne room."
Tessa made a small whimpering sound.
"After that, he went rogue. Became a Solo Raider. His bounty kept climbing because no one could catch him." Kade's hands clenched into fists. "Five hundred million credits. That's like Squad vice-captain level. And that numbskull Juli just ran straight toward him."
Pam's face remained neutral, but her hands trembled slightly behind her crossed arms.
...
In the jungle, Ragnar moved.
The first instructor didn't even see the attack coming. Ragnar's clawed hand punched through the man's chest and emerged from his back, dripping crimson. The instructor's eyes went wide, then vacant.
Ragnar withdrew his hand and let the body drop.
"One," he said calmly.
The remaining five instructors, including Vela opened fire. Plasma bolts screamed through the air, converging on Ragnar's position.
He was already gone.
Ragnar appeared behind another instructor, moving faster than should be possible for someone his size. His jaws opened wide and clamped down on the woman's shoulder. There was a sickening crunch as he tore away muscle and bone. She screamed until Ragnar's tail wrapped around her throat and squeezed. The screaming stopped.
"Two."
"SPREAD OUT!" Vela commanded, her green aura flaring. "Don't cluster!"
The instructors scattered, but Ragnar was already in motion. He caught one by the leg, swung him like a club into a tree trunk. Bones shattered on impact. The instructor crumpled, wheezing blood.
Ragnar's tail lashed out, impossibly fast. It coiled around another instructor's neck and lifted him off the ground. The man clawed at the tail, gasping, but Ragnar simply squeezed tighter. There was a crack. The body went limp.
"This is the fundamental truth of existence," Ragnar said conversationally, dropping the corpse. "Strength determines all outcomes. Your conviction, your training, your noble intentions, all rendered meaningless before absolute superiority."
An instructor charged from the side, energy blade ignited. Ragnar caught the blade with his bare hand. His palm sizzled but he didn't flinch. He yanked the weapon free and drove it through the instructor's skull in one smooth motion.
"Five."
Only Vela remained standing. Bodies lay scattered around her, some missing limbs, others split open. Blood soaked into the jungle floor.
Vela's hands shook. These were her people. Her comrades. And she'd led them to slaughter.
"Guilt is a luxury of the living," Ragnar observed, reading her expression. "Channel it productively or discard it entirely. Anything else is self-indulgent weakness."
Vela's jaw set. Her green aura exploded outward, brighter than before. She pulled a compact rifle from her back and took aim.
But she wasn't aiming at Ragnar.
She fired at the ground between them. Smoke erupted from the impact point, obscuring vision.
When it cleared, there were four Velas.
Three perfect duplicates stood alongside the original, each wielding identical rifles, each moving with the same deadly purpose.
Ragnar tilted his head, examining the clones with interest.
"Ah, Resonance Skill: Mirror Formation. A fascinating application of one's Key, though hardly rare in principle. You project your frequency outward, creating autonomous reflections bound to your consciousness. The limitation, of course, lies in the exponential drain. Each clone fractures your available energy reserves. Three appears to be your threshold before instability manifests."
His smile widened. "But I admire the tactical acumen. Quality of execution often supersedes rarity of technique."
The four Velas spread out, encircling him. They fired in sequence, forcing Ragnar to dodge and weave. When he lunged at one, another would strike from behind. When he changed targets, they'd reposition.
Vela used the terrain masterfully. Her clones leaped between trees, used fallen logs for cover, created crossfire angles that kept Ragnar constantly moving.
One clone feinted high while another shot low. Ragnar twisted, avoiding both strikes, but his shoulder grazed a tree trunk. Bark exploded from the impact of his own momentum.
"Impressive tactics," Ragnar admitted, landing in a crouch. "You maximize your limited resources with commendable efficiency."
But Vela was breathing hard. Maintaining three clones was burning through her reserves fast. Her Key wavered, the frequency becoming unstable.
One clone flickered and vanished.
"Ah," Ragnar said. "There's the limitation."
He charged.
The remaining two clones and Vela herself unleashed a barrage of plasma fire. Ragnar weaved through it like smoke, closing the distance impossibly fast.
A roar split the air.
A Thornback burst from the undergrowth, massive and enraged by the noise and blood. It charged directly at Ragnar, jaws wide.
Ragnar pivoted and caught the creature by its horns. His feet dug trenches in the ground as he absorbed the momentum. Then, with a roar of his own, he lifted the multi-ton beast over his head.
And threw it.
The Thornback sailed through the air like a missile. It crashed through Vela's clones, dispersing them into nothing, and slammed into Vela herself. She flew backward, crashing through two trees before hitting the ground hard.
Her rifle shattered. Her shell cracked, pieces falling away. Her left arm bent at an unnatural angle, bone jutting through scaled skin.
Vela tried to stand but collapsed. Blood pooled beneath her.
Ragnar approached slowly, almost respectfully. He reached down and wrapped his massive hand around her throat, lifting her to eye level.
Vela's yellow eyes struggled to focus. Blood dripped from her mouth.
"You fought admirably," Ragnar said, and there was genuine respect in his voice. "You understood your limitations yet exceeded them through pure will. Few possess such clarity of purpose." He tightened his grip slightly. "Your death is not meaningless, educator. You demonstrated a truth worth dying for; that even the weak can achieve momentary transcendence through perfect execution."
Vela's lips moved, trying to form words. Her vision blurred.
"Stand proud," Ragnar continued. "Your sacrifice will..."
A boot slammed into the back of Ragnar's skull with the force of a missile strike.
The impact made a sound like thunder. Ragnar's head snapped forward. His grip on Vela released as he staggered, actually stumbling from the blow.
He caught himself and whirled around.
Juli landed in a crouch between Ragnar and Vela, blonde hair wild, chest heaving. His bright red eyes burned with pure fury. Every muscle in his body trembled, not from fear, but from rage barely contained.
Vela's eyes widened. Through the pain and blood and fading consciousness, she saw him clearly.
That defiant stance. That reckless courage. That absolute refusal to back down.
She'd seen it before. Years ago. In someone with the famous red hair.
A tear rolled down her scaled cheek.
Juli's voice came out raw, primal, every emotion he possessed boiling over into words that shook with violence.
"YOU'RE GONNA GET YOUR HEAD FUCKING KICKED IN!"