The sun was just beginning to set as Leila approached the military base, its fading light casting long shadows across the concrete. The base, usually bustling with activity, was eerily quiet, the only movement being the occasional patrol of guards. The hum of aircraft engines and the distant chatter of soldiers were conspicuously absent.

She noted the stillness, so different than the vibrant, chaotic energy of the other military bases she had visited during her time as an Awakener.

Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her students swirling amidst a sea of unease. The sudden transfer to New Delhi didn't sit right with her. In her years of service, she had learned to trust her instincts, and they screamed that something was amiss. Was she being sent away as a tactic to stop her from uncovering something she shouldn't? Or worse, was this a more sinister plot to get rid of her under the guise of a 'friendly fire' accident?

The draft became inevitable the moment the bombs started going off in Chicago. Already, the attack on New York was enough to galvanize public opinion, but our success against the terrorists managed to prevent a full-out war. A second attack could only lead to this. The thing is, given how weird the circumstances around the days leading up to the New York attack were, what went on before this last one?

Leila always tried to be honest with herself. She enjoyed feeling safe as much as anyone else, but she could only draw depressing conclusions when she started to see signs of at least a helping hand from the higher spheres in DC.

She had begun her investigations to find out if there was any truth to what the powerful Awakener from the Ten Thousand Eyes Guild had spoken of. Gradually, she became convinced that the AA was hiding something big.

She was almost certain now, as the Chicago attack had happened just in time to push Congress to authorize a draft.

The one thing holding her back from going public with her speculations was that they were just that, speculations. A lot of coincidences and being stopped from accessing information she technically shouldn’t have in the first place did not make for a good argument. Still, the way she was being treated these last few days made it crystal clear that several powerful people in the AA wanted her gone. For a while, at least, if not permanently.

That someone might arrange an "accident" for her on the field, leaving her to be killed by terrorists, wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. She had stepped on many toes in her pursuit of the truth and knew that her investigations made her a target.

As she walked onto the base, her eyes swept over the near-deserted airstrip. Only a few guards patrolled the area, their steps echoing in the silence. The usual array of military aircraft was missing, the tarmac bare except for the transport plane that was to take her and the others to New Delhi. It loomed in the twilight, a silent, steel behemoth that seemed to watch her approach with an indifferent gaze.

Her control over the shadows was great enough that the entire base fell was open to her, and she recognized several presences.

Leila's eyes narrowed as she spotted Roman, her rival and something of a friend, already waiting near the plane. His presence did nothing to ease her suspicions. Roman was a notorious figure known for his ruthlessness and remarkable ability to survive situations that would have killed any other Awakener. His nickname ‘The Deathless’ was well-earned, and his involvement in this operation was something of a red flag in itself.

She trusted the man to watch her back in the field and never allow any of his companions to fall when he could help them, but he was the type of person who was willing to go to any length when convinced of something. She might need to watch out if they got to him, since he possessed considerable power.

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She surveyed the dozen other Awakeners gathering for the flight. They were an eclectic group, each dressed for battle, their equipment well-maintained and their expressions solemn. It was unusual for such a heavily armed group to assemble for a transfer flight. She had her own gear waiting in the shadows, but she had seen no need to present herself for war when they were supposed to hold briefings for several days before seeing any action.

As they boarded the plane, Leila kept her senses alert, scanning her surroundings and the people around her. The aircraft's interior was stark and functional, the seats lined up in neat rows with just enough space for the Awakeners and their gear. The atmosphere inside was tense, filled with unspoken questions and the weight of uncertainty.

The plane's engines roared to life, and vibrations ran through the cabin as it began to taxi onto the runway. Leila settled into her seat, her mind racing with scenarios and plans. She needed to be prepared for whatever awaited them in New Delhi if her suspicions were correct.

Leila found herself in a quiet conversation with Roman, who sat across from her. As always, the man was well groomed, though if she had to comment, he appeared to be more formal than average today, with an all-black suit, crisp white shirt, and black and gold tie. If anything, he looked to be heading for a funeral.

The low hum of the aircraft's engines provided a steady backdrop to their hushed tones. "Do you think we'll be called into action as soon as we land?" Leila asked, her voice a mix of skepticism and concern. After all, no one had ever accused the government of being too efficient.

Roman gave a noncommittal shrug. "Hard to say, Leila. We need a clear political objective before we can do anything, which will take a while to determine. Rushing into battle without a strategy is a waste of resources and lives." His gaze, though steady, had an edge of weariness.

In an unexpected gesture, Roman reached into the minibar at their side, pulling out a bottle of expensive whiskey and two glasses. "Drink?" He offered.

Leila eyed the bottle warily. "No, thanks. You know I prefer wine to spirits."

Roman, however, insisted on uncorking it and pouring the amber liquid into the glasses. He raised his, a look of something akin to regret flickering in his eyes. "To old times and new challenges."

Leila hesitated, her instincts on high alert. But seeing Roman open the bottle in front of her eased her suspicions slightly. She took the glass, sniffing it cautiously before taking a sip. The whiskey burned down her throat, warmth spreading through her chest.

No sooner had she placed the glass down than she felt a sharp, searing pain. Looking down in shock, she saw the hilt of a knife protruding from her chest. Her eyes shot up to meet Roman's, searching for an explanation in his stoic face. She found none.

In an instant, she dissolved into shadows, reappearing at the back of the aircraft in one piece. Her heart, whole and unarmed thanks to her new constitution, pounded in her chest, adrenaline surging through her veins. The betrayal stung, but survival was her only focus now.

Looking out the window, she saw the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean below them as time seemed to lengthen, her full power coming to bear, warping the very space around her and causing the plane to begin breaking apart with a shriek. Leila spared a brief thought for the poor pilot she could feel ejecting from his seat, before she refocused.

I'm in the middle of the fucking ocean, way too far from land to jump off here. And if I'm correct, we're close enough to an S-rank dungeon that trying to make it by myself would be suicide.

"Why, Roman?" Her voice was a mix of anger and disbelief, tinged with a hint of real emotional pain. "Why are you doing this?"

Standing amidst the floating debris of the disintegrating aircraft, Roman shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. He offered no words, no explanations, only a silent acknowledgment of his actions.

Rather than answering, the man released his own power in a bright corona, silver light burning what was left of the plane from existence, crashing against her shadows and being rebuffed after only a token attempt. The other Awakeners, all above B-rank and some within A-rank, floated alongside him, unsurprised and unmoved by the events. Caught in the maelstrom of their clashing powers, they released their own auras, each creating a protective bubble around themselves.

Leila's mana rushed like a river, angry and defensive, before coalescing around her like a heavy blanket, protectively shielding her from her would-be assassins. A tight-fitting dress emerged from the shadows, the only bright point a burning crown of dark flames above her head, emanating such power that no one tried their luck for the moment.

As they floated in the open sky, the reality of the situation hit her with full force. This whole operation was a setup, a well-orchestrated trap to eliminate her under the guise of an unfortunate accident. Her worst fears had been too optimistic.

Roman, now a figure of raw, unbridled power, moved towards her with purpose, his intentions clear. Leila knew she couldn't outrun him in the open sky. Her only chance was to fight, to use every trick and skill at her disposal.

Despite herself, Leila felt some satisfaction at the thought that she might finally get some revenge after being forced to take the man's taunts for so long.

"I hope they paid you well." She said out loud, preparing to fight for her life. "Because I'm not going down alone."