The temple of Isibindi rose from the heart of the jungle like a breathing machine of stone and light. Vines made of fiber-optic threads climbed its walls; holographic lions roared silently from golden gateways.
Tray followed Lyra through the main corridor, his boots echoing on digital marble. Her armor gleamed in the dim light — every movement efficient, every glance sharp.
"Your world," he said quietly, "feels alive."
Lyra glanced back. "It is. The code that built it runs on courage. The stronger our will, the brighter the world shines."
Tray smiled faintly. "Guess I'll fit right in."
She didn't respond, but the corner of her mouth twitched like she might have laughed if she wasn't trying so hard not to.
They entered the throne hall.
A massive lion statue towered behind a throne of pure light. On it sat a man in armor like living gold — eyes calm, voice thunderous.
"Tray of the Shadow Grid." The King's voice vibrated through the chamber. "I have foreseen your coming."
Tray bowed instinctively. "You know of my world?"
"Long ago, the Four Kingdoms shared one network — before the Rift divided us. Your arrival signals the cycle's return."
He stood, approaching Tray with a heavy but graceful step. "But prophecy is not destiny. You will prove your worth here."
Lyra stepped forward. "My King, he fought the corruption. He's strong."
The King's eyes flickered toward her, amused. "You speak highly of him, Captain."
Lyra stiffened. "I only speak truth."
Tray smirked. "She's tough, but I think she likes me."
Lyra shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
The King laughed — a rare, booming sound that made the light around them shimmer. "Then it's settled. You will train under her command. Learn the Lion's way."
Tray bowed again. "As you command."
---
Training began at dawn.
The jungle's light dimmed to amber as Lyra and Tray faced each other across the arena. Platforms of code floated in midair, forming a combat simulation grid. The air was thick with the hum of energy.
Lyra's expression was unreadable. "You're fast, but raw. The Lion's strength is more than power — it's control."
"Guess I'll learn quick," Tray said, spinning his katana once before igniting it.
"Good," she said, activating her spears. "Because I won't hold back."
The duel began in a flash of green and violet.
Tray darted across the platforms, vanishing into shadow, reappearing behind her — but she was faster, turning, her spear grazing his armor with a spark.
"Too slow," she said.
He grinned. "I'm pacing myself."
Their weapons clashed again and again, each impact releasing bursts of light that rippled through the jungle. At one point, Tray's blade locked against her spear — their faces inches apart, breath heavy.
"Learning yet?" she asked, eyes burning gold.
"Yeah," he said, voice low. "Never underestimate the pretty ones."
Her eyes widened a fraction — then she shoved him backward with a pulse of energy. "Focus, Shadow."
He hit the ground with a laugh. "You hit like a truck made of lightning."
"And you talk too much."
By the end of the session, both were drenched in sweat and light, their breathing matching rhythm. The guards watching from the sidelines exchanged quiet looks — they'd never seen their Captain spar so long.
As the sun set over the jungle, Lyra turned toward him. "You're reckless," she said softly. "But you have heart."
Tray met her gaze. "And you have walls."
The moment hung between them — not hostile, not friendly. Something in between. Something alive.
Then the ground shook. The temple lights flickered red — corruption detected.
Lyra drew her weapons instantly. "The Rift. It's breached the barrier again."
Tray's eyes narrowed, his katana lighting up in his hand. "Then let's finish what it started."
Side by side, they ran into the neon jungle, shadows slicing through green light — two warriors bound by fate, chasing the storm that had already claimed one world… and now threatened another.