The morning sun penetrated through the flimsy curtain of Sabir’s room. Gently stirring himself awake, he stared at the once unfamiliar ceiling, as his face glowed from the soft light; he became slightly disoriented. However, the rhythm of his daily routine settled.

Ignoring the grogginess, he rose from his bed, quickly washing and dressing before heading to the kitchen to fetch Warren’s breakfast. As he picked up the tray, ignoring the chef’s incessant chattering, his mind trailed to the current date. He was supposed to be graduating today.

The graduation ceremony of all his classmates, he knew back at The Commons, would all be in Tetra City right now. He wondered if Samantha and Max were there, standing with their funny robes and proud smiles on their faces as they received their diplomas. Sabir smiled at the thought, yet there was a bitter pang in his chest. He wished he were there with his two friends.

Sabir knew that the life he once envisioned was now just a dream of the past. He was here right now, a servant to The Voltaires, and he doubted that would change soon. He just hoped that Max and Sam had moved on, that they would find some semblance of happiness despite everything that had happened. It filled him with a sense of relief, imagining them living ordinary lives, free from the chaos that had consumed his own.

With a sigh, Sabir balanced the tray with practiced ease, as he made his way through the quiet corridors of the Voltaire estate. Only the faintest noises of faraway servants going about their morning tasks resonated in the eerily quiet passageways. As Sabir approached the door, he noticed the unusual stillness. Normally, he would hear Warren shuffling around by the time he reached his door, either flinging a blanket over himself as if he were a nun or immersing himself in a book, occasionally gazing out the window in his usual pensive manner.

After a brief pause, Sabir gently knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. Furrowing his brow, Sabir pushed the door open and peered inside. He hoped Warren didn’t mind. He could just make out Warren’s figure hidden behind his blanket, still stretched on the bed, sleeping loudly, though the room was dark and the heavy curtains blocked out much of the sunshine.

The sight caught Sabir off guard. He couldn’t recall a single instance in the past weeks where Warren had slept in, let alone missed breakfast. Anxiety prickled at the back of his mind. He never enjoyed being out of routine. Sabir placed the tray on Warren’s desk and walked cautiously over to the bed.

“Warren,” Sabir called out softly, hoping to wake him gently. When there was no response, he leaned closer, his voice a little firmer. “Warren, wake up.”

With a start, Warren jolted awake, blinking rapidly as he struggled to orient himself. For a moment, his gaze darted around the room, before settling on Sabir. “What time is it?”

“It’s uh 9 o’clock, I’m pretty sure, well, a little over that.”

Warren jumped out of bed and swore under his breath as a realization hit him like a cold splash of water. “Shit, I’m late,” his voice thick with sleep as he stumbled out of bed. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, eyes wide with panic. “I’m late for training.”

Sabir stepped back, giving Warren space as he frantically searched for his clothes. “Training?” Sabir echoed, confusion lacing his tone. “Since when do you-”

“Just leave the tray here,” Warren cut him off, his words rushed. He pulled on a shirt over his pyjamas, his movements hurried and uncoordinated. “I’ll eat after.”

Sabir opened his mouth to question further, but before he could say anything, Warren had already bolted out the door, leaving Sabir standing alone in the disarrayed room. A deep frown creased Sabir’s brow as he pursued Warren into the hallway.

“Warren, wait!” Sabir called after him, his voice sharp with concern. “What’s going on?”

But Warren didn’t respond. Something else, something urgent that seemed to consume his every thought, occupied his mind. He ran with desperation, his usually composed demeanor replaced with a frantic energy. Sabir chased after him, without thinking, his own anxiety rocketing, as he followed behind.

Sabir was still far from catching up with Warren. They climbed stairs and ran through the hallways. At the end of one hall, Sabir saw Warren leave through a door after turning a corner. Confused at what was going on, Sabir pushed the door open and found himself in a large, rectangular room with high ceilings. Tatami mats marked with singed marks covered the floor, and cracks in the walls were noticeable, with the scent of straw and wood mixing with the smell of ash.

Warren was panting heavily, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath beside the door. “What’s the matter? Why are you running like that?” Sabir asked, as he moved towards Warren and put his hand on his shoulder. “You okay, man?”

Warren turned sharply at the sound of Sabir’s voice and the feel of his touch, a mixture of frustration and surprise flashing across his face. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, pushing Sabir’s hand off his shoulder and standing upright. Before he could say more, another voice cut through the air.

“Well, well, Warren, you’re late.”

Sabir looked towards the voice in the room's corner and saw the one person he dreaded.

Elektra.

She moved towards the center of the room, her lips tugged at the corners, carrying a hint of amusement as she stepped into view. Facing Warren and Sabir, she stood with a casual grace, her sharp eyes taking in the scene before her. “First time that’s ever happened. You being late.”

Elektra wore a white uniform that clung to her lean muscular build. The white contrasted with her cyan hair cut short into a bob. The uniform jacket crossed tightly at her chest, secured by a snug black belt. Her rolled sleeves revealed porcelain skin that any model would envy. The pants were loosely fitted, every article of clothing designed for combat.

Elektra examined Warren’s clothing, his pajamas and the creased shirt he threw on, were a clear sign that he just woke up. Let alone the curly hair that was left unbrushed. “There’s no time for you to get into your gi. We’ll just fight as you are right now.”

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Sabir’s presence didn’t go unnoticed either. Elektra’s gaze locked onto his, a slow, predatory smile spreading across her face. She circled around him, causing Sabir to stiffen, his eyes following her movement. Preparing for the worst, he clenched his fists.

“I think I’ve found out why you were late,” she peered at Sabir with her fingers on her chin, her voice dripping with mockery. “Say, how does freedom feel, Sabir? I can’t imagine it’s quite what you expected. To be honest, I miss seeing you squirm in that chair. It was so much fun.”

Sabir clenched his fists at his sides, forcing himself to stay calm under her scrutiny. He knew better than to rise to her bait. Elektra finally stopped circling, her attention shifting back to Warren, who was standing tensely a few paces away.

“You turned him into your personal servant,” Elektra remarked, a wicked grin tugging at her lips as she eyed Sabir’s suit and his slicked back hair. “How fitting.”

“Shut up, Elektra,” Warren snapped, his usual politeness in his tone replaced by irritation. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Elektra’s smile grew as she strolled over towards Warren. Without warning, she delivered a swift punch to his stomach, causing him to double over in pain. “What did I tell you about talking back to me like that?” she hissed.

Seeing his friend hurt, Sabir’s first instinct to intervene, to move and stop her from hurting him any further, but before he could take a step forward, Warren put an arm out, he shot Sabir with a warning look, as he got back up, his expression tight with pain.

“Don’t.” Warren gasped. “Go back to your room, Sabir. This doesn’t concern you.”

Sabir hesitated, torn between the desire to keep Warren safe and the understanding that intervening would probably make matters worse. He took another look at Warren as he moved towards Elektra, grunting with effort. Something inside him shifted. Warren’s resolve was clear, but so was the pain he was in. Sabir knew Elektra’s cruelty firsthand. He understood the vicious words she’d shriek. Sabir knew he couldn’t leave Warren. Leaving him was akin to leaving himself.

Instead, Sabir took a few steps back but didn’t exit the room. By the wall, he stood with his arms crossed, his expression rigid. If Warren was going to face Elektra, Sabir would not abandon him.

Elektra’s eyes flicked to Sabir, her expression darkening with irritation. “Didn’t you hear him?” she spat. “This doesn’t concern you. Leave!”

“It concerns me if you’re going to beat him to a pulp,” Sabir replied, his voice steady. “I’m not leaving. I must ensure the safety of my master. I am his servant. It’s only fitting, after all.” Sabir smiled as he used her words against her.

Warren shot Sabir a displeased look while still hunched over slightly, but chose not to argue. Maybe he felt a sense of relief that Sabir stayed by his side.

Elektra let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “But this is between me and Warren. Stay if you like, but don’t think for a second that you’re safe.”

Sabir didn’t flinch. “I’m not afraid of you,” he mumbled, his heart pounded in his chest.

Elektra smirked once again, as she stepped towards Warren, her posture relaxed. “Let’s see if you remember what I’ve taught you.” She began hopping on the spot, using her tiptoes. Switching from one foot to another, she put her fists up in a loose battle stance.

Warren straightened his back as he took a fighting stance of his own. He put his fists up, his forearms parallel to each other, creating a tight rectangle that protected his upper body. He glanced briefly at Sabir, a silent acknowledgment passing between them, before he shifted his focus entirely to Elektra.

Sabir watched as Warren and Elektra squared off, his heartbeat racing, anticipating the first flurry of blows. Silence screamed within the training ground. It made Sabir’s skin prickle with unease. But he stayed rooted to the spot, ready to step in if things went too far.

To Sabir’s surprise, Warren moved first, a powerful strike aimed at Elektra’s head. Elektra, still hopping, stepped back. Before her feet touched the ground, she deflected his blow with her palm. She then pivoted her foot, generating enormous force, and countered with a swift kick to his shoulder. The force of it made Warren stagger back, but he quickly regained his footing, his expression hardening as he launched another attack.

Warren threw as many punches as he could muster, each laced with intense ferocity, yet Elektra met him blow for blow, easily dispatching his attack with a calmness that aggravated Warren, with his more frantic approach. Elektra had the upper hand, her years of experience and ruthless training evident in every strike. But Warren didn’t back down, even as the sparring match became more intense, their strikes harder and faster.

Warren impressed Sabir with his skill, yet he knew Elektra still had more to show. As if she was listening. In the flurry of combat, Elektra sent out a swift, brutal kick, sending Warren crashing to the mat. He groaned and gripped his side as he fought to stand, but Elektra was already on him, pinning him down with one knee and pressing a forearm to his throat.

“That’s enough,” Sabir said sharply, stepping forward. “You’ve made your point.”

Elektra glanced up at him, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “He’s stronger than he looks,” she said, almost as if she were giving Warren a backhanded compliment. “But strength isn’t enough, Sabir. He still has a lot to learn.”

Elektra released her forearm against Warren’s throat. She pushed her hands against the floor and forced herself up in the air, landing with a graceful flip. She then dusted off her hands as if the whole thing had been nothing more than a casual exercise.

Warren lay on the mat, wheezing, his face twisted in pain and frustration. Elektra looked down at Warren coldly. “That was for coming late.” Then her eyes flicked to Sabir, who was already moving to help Warren to his feet.

Sabir pulled Warren up from the ground, giving him support using his shoulder. As Sabir steadied him, Warren winced but accepted the help, feeling his pride bruised along with his body.

“You shouldn’t be staying here,” Warren muttered into his ear.

“I have to,” Sabir replied firmly, his gaze never leaving Elektra. “I’m not going to let her tear you apart. She’s crazy.”

A dangerous glint shone in Elektra’s eyes as her lips curled into a smirk. “Crazy, am I?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet. She took a step closer to Sabir. “If you’re so eager to protect him, maybe you should take his place.”

Warren’s eyes widened, and he protested, but Elektra silenced him with a sharp look. “No more excuses, Warren. If Sabir thinks he can do better, let’s see it.”

Sabir looked towards Warren. “Can you stand on your own?” Upon Warren’s weak nod, Sabir released Warren from his shoulder. Elektra watched as Sabir moved towards her, till they were only several feet away from each other. Sabir’s jaw tightened as he met Elektra’s eyes. “If that’s what it takes,” he said, his voice steady, “then so be it.”

Elektra’s smirk widened. “Good,” she purred, taking a step back to give him space. “Let’s see if you can handle what Warren couldn’t.”

Sabir glanced at Warren, who looked at him with wide eyes, his fingers running through his hair aggressively. Sabir gave him a small nod. A signal to tell him everything was going to be okay, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he was getting himself into.

As Elektra moved into position, the room seemed to close in around them, the high ceilings and tatami mats fading into the background as the focus shifted entirely to the two figures facing off. Sabir knew this was more than just a sparring match. This was a test. What did Elektra want to prove? He did not know.

Elektra raised an eyebrow, her expression almost playful as she beckoned him forward. “Show me what you’ve got, Sabir,” she said, her voice dripping with anticipation.

Sabir took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He knew he couldn’t afford to hesitate, not with Elektra. He stepped forward, his heart beating with anticipation, as he took a fighting stance. Sabir had no intention of losing.