Erin's eyes snapped open, his vision swimming in and out of focus as consciousness returned like a slow-creeping tide. The sterile scent of herbs and antiseptic filled his nose, and the low hum of muffled voices buzzed in his ears—some urgent, some weary, all blending into the distant murmur of the infirmary.
He turned his head, wincing at the dull ache pulsing through his body. Around him, healers moved with practiced efficiency, their hands bathed in a soft, emerald glow as they pressed against wounded flesh, knitting skin and bone back together with whispered incantations. The light flickered like fireflies against the dim backdrop of the room, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.
Then—a voice. Weak, but unmistakable.
"Tch. You're finally awake."
Erin's heart lurched. He knew that dry, rasping tone anywhere.
He turned, and there they were—Garrett and Lila, propped up on their own cots, already patched up but still bearing the ghost of their injuries. Garrett's usual smirk was strained, his skin paler than usual, but his eyes were sharp with relief. Lila, ever the picture of controlled irritation, had her arms crossed, though the tightness in her jaw betrayed the pain she refused to voice.
A grin split Erin's face, bright and unrestrained. "You two look like hell."
Garrett let out a weak chuckle. "Look who's talking, Sleeping Beauty."
Lila scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. "You were out for hours. Thought you'd finally gotten yourself killed."
Erin pushed himself up onto his elbows, ignoring the protest of his muscles. "And miss the chance to hear you both admit I was right? Never."
A heavy silence settled between them. Garrett's smirk faded, replaced by something uncharacteristically solemn. His fingers twitched against the sheets before he finally spoke, voice low.
"...We should've listened to you."
Erin blinked. That—that wasn't what he expected.
Garrett continued, jaw tight. "If we'd followed your plan instead of charging in like idiots, we wouldn't be laid up like this. So… yeah. My bad."
Erin stared. Garrett never apologized. Not sincerely, at least.
Lila, meanwhile, looked like she was physically chewing glass. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers drumming against her arm as if fighting the urge to strangle someone—maybe herself.
"You were reckless," she finally bit out. "Throwing yourself into danger just to prove some stupid point—what the hell were you thinking?"
Erin raised a brow. "That's the closest I'll ever get to an 'I was wrong' from you, huh?"
Lila's eye twitched. "I am *not* apologizing."
"Could've fooled me," Erin said, grinning wider. "I can't believe it. Lila and Garrett, actually admitting I was right. Should I get a healer to check you both for head injuries?"
"That's bullshit—" Lila snapped, lurching forward—only to immediately hiss in pain, clutching her stomach.
Garrett winced in sympathy. "Yeah, don't do that. The healers said the internal bruising'll linger for a while."
Lila shot him a glare. "I know that."
Erin's amusement softened. Despite the banter, the reality of their situation settled over them like a heavy cloak. They'd survived—barely—but the fight had taken its toll.
And yet, here they were. Together.
Garrett exhaled, leaning back with a tired smirk. "Next time, we listen to the damn plan."
Lila muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like agreement.
Erin laughed, ignoring the ache in his ribs. "Damn right you will."
The moment of quiet camaraderie shattered as the infirmary door burst open with a resounding bang, slamming against the stone wall. Light from the hallway spilled in, silhouetting four familiar figures.
Regina strode in first, her violet eyes sharp as ever, though the tightness in her shoulders betrayed her exhaustion. Behind her, Taro followed, arms crossed, his usual stoic expression unreadable. Lock lumbered in next, his massive frame nearly filling the doorway, his usual disinterest evident as he scratched the back of his head. And then there was Noah—still cocooned in his damn sleeping bag, his head lolling against the wall as he snored softly, completely oblivious to the world around him.
"Healers said you're free to go," Regina announced, her voice crisp but not unkind. "They did good work patching you up, but don't push yourselves. The internal pain will linger for a while."
Erin groaned, rubbing his ribs. "Yeah, we noticed."
Garrett smirked, though it was weaker than usual. "What, no 'welcome back from the brink of death'? I'm hurt, Regina."
Regina rolled her eyes. "You'll live."
Lock, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling, suddenly blinked as if remembering something. "Oh. Right. You guys got wrecked."
Lila shot him a glare. "Astute observation."
Noah let out a particularly loud snore, then mumbled something incoherent before sliding further down the wall.
Garrett shook his head, amused, before his expression sobered. "Where's the Captain?"
Taro's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "General meeting. Called by the Overlord."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"What?" Regina's voice was sharp, her fingers twitching at her sides.
Even Lock straightened, his usual apathy replaced by wary focus.
Erin frowned, glancing between them. "Uh… is that bad?"
Regina's lips pressed into a thin line. "The Overlord doesn't summon all captains unless something's wrong. Really wrong."
Noah, still half-asleep, somehow managed to slur, "Mmm… war…?" before his head tipped forward again.
The air in the room grew heavier.
Garrett whistled lowly. "Well, that's not ominous at all."
Lila's fingers curled into the sheets. "Did he say anything before he left?"
Taro shook his head. "Just that we're to hold the base until he returns."
Regina exhaled sharply, then turned on her heel. "We're leaving. Rest up, but don't take too long. If something's coming, we need to be ready."
Lock grunted in agreement, already following her out. Noah, still wrapped in his sleeping bag, somehow managed to shuffle after them without waking up.
Taro lingered for a moment, his dark eyes sweeping over the three of them. "Don't die before the real fight starts."
And with that, the senior members were gone, leaving Erin, Garrett, and Lila alone once more—the weight of unspoken danger settling over them like a storm cloud.
Garrett broke the silence first, forcing a grin. "Well. That was definitely not concerning."
Lila's grip on the sheets tightened. "...We should get back to the base."
Erin met her gaze, then Garrett's. No jokes this time. Just understanding.
Whatever was coming—they needed to be ready.
The sterile air of the infirmary clung to Erin's skin as he fastened the last buckle of his armor, the metallic click echoing in the now-empty ward. The healers had done their work well—his wounds were closed, his bones knit back together—but the phantom ache of battle still pulsed beneath his flesh, a constant reminder of how close they'd come to death.
Lila adjusted her gloves with sharp, precise movements, her expression unreadable. Garrett stretched his arms overhead, wincing as his muscles protested, but his usual smirk never wavered.
"Alright," Erin said, rolling his shoulders. "Let's get out of here before they change their minds and strap us back to those beds."
The trio stepped out of the infirmary, the sudden brightness of the midday sun making them squint. Before them sprawled the World Central Compound—a sprawling fortress of white stone and towering spires, where the air hummed with latent power and the weight of unseen authority. This was the heart of their world, where the Overlord ruled from the shadows, where the Captains gathered in hushed meetings behind closed doors.
And yet, for all its grandeur, Erin had never felt more like an outsider.
The courtyard teemed with fresh recruits from every squad—Healers in their soft green robes, Scouts with their lightweight armor, Engineers tinkering with gadgets—but it was the Sentinels who dominated the space.
Clad in pristine silver-and-blue uniforms, their sigils gleaming with arrogance, they moved in tight-knit groups, their laughter sharp and condescending. Many bore the haughty bearing of nobility, their chins lifted as if the very ground beneath them were unworthy of their steps.
"Ugh," Garrett muttered, eyeing them. "Looks like someone let the peacocks out of their cages."
Lila's lip curled. "They're not just peacocks. They're the Overlord's favored."
Erin's stomach twisted. "I heard they didn't even hold trials this year," he said quietly. "well, she did say it was a rumor."
Garrett barked a laugh. "Of course they did. Why bother with fairness when you can just stack the deck?"
Their path forward was abruptly blocked as a group of Sentinel freshers swaggered into their way, their leader—a tall, sharp-featured boy with cold eyes—looking them up and down with open disdain.
"Well, well," the boy drawled. "If it isn't the Vigil rejects. Heard you barely scraped through your trials. How… adorable."
A muscle in Erin's jaw twitched.
Garrett grinned, all teeth. "Oh, we scraped through, all right. Unlike you, who got in because Daddy donated a castle to the cause."
The Sentinel's smirk faltered, his companions stiffening.
Lila didn't even bother looking at them. "Move," she said, her voice icy.
The leader's eyes narrowed. "Or what? You'll try to make us?"
Erin's fingers flexed. He could already feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken challenge. The Vigil were outnumbered, outmatched in status—but pride flared hot in his chest.
"We don't need to," Erin said, meeting the Sentinel's gaze without flinching. "You're not worth the effort."
A beat of silence. Then—
The Sentinel scoffed, stepping aside with exaggerated mockery. "Enjoy your little squad while it lasts. Rumor has it the Vigil's being disbanded soon anyway."
Erin's blood ran cold.
Garrett's grin turned dangerous. "Yeah? And what's your source—the voices in your head?"
The Sentinel smirked. "Just wait and see."
With that, the group sauntered off, their laughter trailing behind them like poison.
Lila exhaled sharply. "They're lying."
But Erin wasn't so sure.
His gaze swept the courtyard again, taking in the sheer number of Sentinels—hundreds, where the Vigil had only three new recruits.
"Why do we have so few members?" Erin murmured.
Garrett clapped him on the back. "Because our trials are hell, and most people aren't stupid enough to sign up for that."
Lila's voice was quiet. "Or because the Vigil isn't meant to last."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.