The locker room was a stark, sterile place. The walls were a dull, lifeless gray, and the overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a cold, almost clinical glow over everything. Anna sat on the cold metal bench, staring at the open locker in front of her. Her hands trembled slightly as she fidgeted with the hem of her uniform, trying to quiet the storm inside her mind. The silence around her was oppressive, amplifying the nervous energy that pulsed through her veins.

She was nervous—no, more than that. She was terrified. Today was her first combat practice, and she knew that General Ignis Pyre, Dr. Seraphina Frost, and Dr. Elias Thorn would be watching. They would be evaluating her every move, judging her performance. The thought of their cold, scrutinizing eyes made her stomach twist in knots.

Hecktor stood nearby, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The shadows cast by the dim lighting softened his features, making him look almost relaxed, but his sharp gaze never left Anna. He could see the tension in her posture, the way her shoulders hunched forward as if trying to protect herself from the weight of her own fears. He felt a pang of sympathy for the girl—so young, so fragile, yet expected to carry the burden of a destiny she had never asked for.

"You're going to be fine, Anna," Hecktor said, his voice a warm rumble in the quiet room. He tried to sound reassuring, but there was an edge to his tone, a quiet determination that hinted at his own unease.

Anna looked up at him, her wide green eyes filled with uncertainty. "You think so?" she asked, her voice small and fragile, like a glass figurine that might shatter with the wrong word.

Hecktor nodded, forcing a smile that he hoped would steady her nerves. "Yeah, you're a natural. Just do what the instructor tells you and give it your best. That's all anyone can ask for."

Anna took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her chest. She wanted to believe him, to trust that everything would be okay. "Alright, let's do this," she said, though the words felt hollow in her mouth.

Hecktor pushed off the wall and led the way out of the locker room. The corridors of the Crucible were just as cold and sterile as the locker room, with metal walls that seemed to stretch on endlessly, reflecting the harsh, white light that flickered above. The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and machinery, a constant reminder that this place was more laboratory than home.

As they walked, Anna couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dread. The closer they got to the training room, the heavier the air seemed to become, pressing down on her like an invisible weight. She forced herself to focus on the rhythmic sound of Hecktor's footsteps, using it as an anchor to keep herself from spiraling into panic.

When they finally reached the training room, Anna's breath caught in her throat. The space was vast, with a sparring ring in the center that seemed almost too large, too imposing. It was surrounded by observation seats that were currently occupied by Dr. Seraphina Frost, Dr. Elias Thorn, and General Ignis Pyre. The sight of them, sitting in silence, their eyes fixed on her as she entered, made her stomach twist with anxiety.

Lieutenant Ringer stood in the center of the ring, his posture rigid, his expression stern. He was clad in a traditional Keikogi, the black belt around his waist a stark contrast to the white fabric. His eyes were sharp, calculating, as they assessed Anna from head to toe. She could feel his gaze like a weight on her skin, and she had to resist the urge to shrink back.

Hecktor leaned down slightly as they approached the ring, his voice a low whisper. "Lieutenant Ringer is an excellent martial artist. You’ll learn a lot from him."

Anna nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Her heart pounded in her chest as she forced herself to take the last few steps toward the ring.

"Is his element fire or frost?" Anna managed to ask, her voice barely audible.

"Fire," Hecktor replied simply, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the Lieutenant’s every move.

As they reached the ring, Lieutenant Ringer turned to face them and bowed, a gesture that felt more obligatory than respectful. Anna hesitated for a moment, then awkwardly returned the bow, trying her best not to make a fool of herself.

"Welcome, Anna," Lieutenant Ringer said, his tone clipped and formal. "Today, we won’t be sparring. Instead, I’ll be assessing your physical abilities so that I can develop a lesson plan tailored to your strengths and weaknesses. Please come stand in front of me and follow my instructions."

Anna nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she stepped into the ring. Hecktor retreated to join the others in the audience, his gaze lingering on Anna, a silent promise of protection in his eyes.

From his seat, Dr. Elias Thorn watched the proceedings with a mixture of skepticism and concern. His sharp, analytical mind couldn’t help but question the wisdom of pushing the girl so soon. Is this really necessary? he thought to himself, his lips thinning into a tight line. She was only three days old—barely more than a child. What if this assessment did more harm than good? What if they were pushing her too far, too fast? But he also knew that they had little choice. Project Emberfrost was too important to delay.

"Is this really necessary?" Dr. Thorn finally muttered, his voice low and filled with doubt. "She can barely speak, let alone fight."

Dr. Seraphina Frost turned her head slightly, her icy blue eyes meeting his. Her expression was calm, but there was a coldness in her gaze that mirrored her element. "We have to begin somewhere, Elias," she replied, her tone measured. "The girl needs structure, a sense of purpose. Establishing a routine that includes physical training is essential."

But beneath her composed exterior, Seraphina’s thoughts churned with a quiet, simmering anger. She didn’t like this situation—didn’t like the idea of subjecting Anna to this so soon. The girl was vulnerable, still finding her way in a world that was new and frightening to her. Seraphina had argued for more time, more preparation, but Ignis had insisted. And now, here they were, pushing Anna into a situation that could easily overwhelm her. Damn you, Ignis, she thought bitterly. This is your doing.

Hecktor, standing off to the side, could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy like an impending storm. His eyes flicked to Dr. Thorn, then to Seraphina, before settling on General Pyre. He knew that Ignis was a hard man, a man of ironclad discipline, but even he must have sensed the unease in the room. Hecktor’s jaw tightened. He didn’t trust Lieutenant Ringer, didn’t like the way the man looked at Anna—as if she were some kind of specimen to be dissected rather than a living, breathing person. A protective instinct flared within him, a primal urge to shield the girl from harm. If Ringer stepped out of line, if he tried anything that crossed the boundary, Hecktor would kill him without hesitation.

"There's no harm in testing her abilities," Hecktor said, trying to keep his voice light, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. "We’re not pushing her into an intensive program—just getting a baseline."

Dr. Thorn’s eyes narrowed, his mind already racing through the possible outcomes. He knew that Hecktor was right, that they needed to establish a starting point for Anna’s training. But the thought of putting her through this, of potentially scarring her in the process, gnawed at him. If anything happens… He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. They had to proceed with caution. Anna’s mind was still fragile, still forming. If they weren’t careful, they could do irreparable damage.

"Fine," Dr. Thorn muttered, though the reluctance was clear in his voice. "But if anything happens, I’ll hold all of you responsible."

Hecktor let out a dry chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "You’ll have to hold yourself responsible too, Doctor. You’re the one who authorized this."

Dr. Thorn’s face flushed with anger, but he didn’t respond. He knew that Hecktor was right, but the knowledge did little to ease his concern. His gaze drifted back to Anna, who now stood in front of Lieutenant Ringer, trying to appear composed despite the obvious tension in her posture. Please, let this go smoothly, he silently prayed, though he didn’t believe in much these days.

"Now, Anna," Lieutenant Ringer began, his voice taking on a clinical tone, "we’re going to start with something simple. I need you to bend over and place your hands on the ground with your legs straight. Then, slowly bring one leg back and hold the position. After that, bring the other leg back. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir," Anna replied, her voice barely a whisper. She moved slowly, carefully, bending down as instructed and placing her hands on the ground. The movements felt awkward, her muscles stiff with anxiety, but she forced herself to follow through.

Ringer watched her closely, his gaze detached and analytical. "Excellent," he said, though his tone lacked any real warmth. "Now, keep your legs straight and your back as flat as possible. I’m going to lift your shirt slightly to check your spinal alignment."

Anna’s heart raced as she felt the Lieutenant’s fingers on her back, his touch cold and impersonal. She wanted to pull away, to protest, but she forced herself to stay still. This is normal, she told herself, trying to keep the panic at bay. He’s just doing his job.

"You have an extremely well-developed spinal column," Ringer noted, his voice filled with professional detachment. "Your bones are strong, and your muscles are impressively toned for someone of your age. Your chakra network is also remarkably clear and unblocked."

"Thank you, sir," Anna replied, though she didn’t fully understand what he meant. She was relieved that he seemed satisfied, but the discomfort lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind.

Ringer let her shirt fall back down and stepped back. "Very well. You may stand up now. We’ll move on to the next exercise."

Anna straightened up, feeling a little more confident, though the tension in her chest hadn’t fully subsided. Lieutenant Ringer began walking around her, his eyes sharp as he inspected her closely, like a collector appraising a rare artifact.

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"Your hair is thick and healthy, your skin smooth and clear," he remarked, his tone still clinical. "Your bone structure is strong, and your muscles are lean and well-defined. Your body is quite impressive, Miss Emberfrost."

Anna felt a strange, hollow pride at the compliment, but it was quickly overshadowed by a sense of unease. There was something unsettling about the way he spoke, as if he were evaluating a product rather than a person. She forced a polite smile, trying to keep her discomfort hidden.

"Thank you, sir," she said again, though her voice was a little quieter this time.

"I’d like to examine your teeth and eyes next," Ringer continued, moving closer. "Please open your mouth for me."

Anna obeyed, opening her mouth and showing her teeth. Ringer leaned in, his gaze cold and calculating as he inspected her. When he finally nodded, Anna felt a small wave of relief wash over her.

"Your teeth are in excellent condition. Now, let’s check your eyes." He held up a small flashlight and shone it into her eyes, moving it back and forth as he observed her pupils. Anna squinted slightly at the brightness but didn’t complain.

"Your pupils are dilating normally, and your irises are a beautiful shade of green," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You show no signs of any ocular issues."

Anna blinked as the light faded, her relief slowly giving way to exhaustion. The assessment had been thorough, more so than she’d expected, but it hadn’t been as daunting as she’d feared. Maybe, just maybe, she was doing okay.

But then, Ringer’s tone shifted slightly, and the hairs on the back of Anna’s neck stood on end. "For the final part of our assessment, I’ll need you to remove your shirt and pants and step onto the scale."

Time seemed to freeze. Anna’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding so loudly she thought everyone in the room could hear it. She took a step back, her mind racing with confusion and fear. Why did he need her to undress? What was he trying to do?

Before she could react, before the panic could fully take hold, Dr. Seraphina Frost’s voice cut through the air like a blade. "That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant," she said, her tone cold and unyielding, carrying an authority that left no room for argument.

Ringer hesitated, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. He looked as if he might challenge her, but then he quickly backed down, his expression tight. "Very well," he said, his voice clipped. "The assessment is complete. Thank you for your time, Miss Emberfrost. We’ll begin our lessons tomorrow morning."

Anna nodded, her body moving on autopilot as she quickly left the ring. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, fear, and a deep, gnawing sense of shame. As she walked away, she felt the weight of the room’s silence pressing down on her, suffocating her.

Dr. Elias Thorn watched her leave, his heart heavy with regret. He had seen the fear in her eyes, the way she had recoiled at Ringer’s request. Did we push her too far? The thought plagued him, gnawed at the edges of his conscience. He had wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harshness of the world, but he had failed. And now, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had scarred her mind in the process.

Hecktor’s fists clenched at his sides, anger bubbling up inside him like molten lava. His gaze locked onto Ringer, who now stood awkwardly in the center of the ring, clearly aware of the tension he had created. I should kill him. The thought was a dark whisper in the back of Hecktor’s mind, an urge he found increasingly hard to resist. Ringer had crossed a line—had tried to take advantage of Anna’s innocence, her vulnerability. And for that, he deserved to die.

"Ignis," Hecktor growled, his voice low and dangerous, "is this the level of discipline in your ranks?"

General Ignis Pyre, seated in the shadows, let out a slow breath. His expression was as hard as stone, his eyes cold as ice. He had seen what happened, had watched as Ringer overstepped his bounds. The anger simmered beneath his calm exterior, but he knew he couldn’t let it show—not yet.

"It won’t happen again," Ignis said, his voice clipped and measured. "I’ll handle this personally."

Hecktor nodded, though his eyes remained locked on Ringer, his hatred barely contained. He could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating, like the air before a storm. If it weren’t for the presence of Dr. Frost and Dr. Thorn, he might have drawn his weapon right then and there. But he knew better. Ringer’s fate was sealed, and it wasn’t his place to deliver the final blow.

Ignis stood, his gaze fixed on Ringer, who was now trembling with fear. The General’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring with barely controlled rage. "Lieutenant," he said, his voice cold and unyielding, "come with me. We have matters to discuss."

Ringer’s face paled, and his hands shook as he followed Ignis out of the room. The silence that followed was deafening, a tension that hung in the air like a noose.

The hallway they entered was dark and deserted, far from the prying eyes of the other soldiers. The walls seemed to close in on them, the shadows stretching long and ominous. Ringer’s breath hitched as he realized there was no way out—no escape from the fate that awaited him.

"Sir, I can explain," Ringer stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "I wasn’t trying to—"

"Shut up," Ignis snarled, his voice dripping with venom. His eyes glowed faintly with the intensity of his element, a fire that threatened to consume everything in its path. "You’ve disgraced me, compromised the integrity of this mission. You’ve shamed the Crucible, and for that, there can be no forgiveness."

Ringer’s heart raced, panic clawing at his chest. "Please, sir, I didn’t mean any harm! I have a family—"

"Then die with honor," Ignis interrupted coldly, "and they will be spared from your shame."

The flames ignited in Ignis’s hand without warning, engulfing the Lieutenant in a searing blaze. Ringer’s screams echoed down the hallway, but they were brief, cut short by the all-consuming fire.

Back in the observation room, Hecktor felt the heat of the flames even from a distance. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. He turned to Dr. Seraphina Frost and Dr. Elias Thorn, his expression one of quiet gratitude mixed with lingering anger. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice heavy with emotion.

Seraphina nodded, her eyes distant, her thoughts filled with quiet, simmering rage. She blamed Ignis for what had happened, for pushing Anna into this situation too soon. But she knew better than to voice her anger, not here, not now. Instead, she focused on the girl—on Anna, who had been so vulnerable, so scared. The maternal instinct in her, the one she kept buried beneath layers of professionalism, burned with a desire to protect Anna from ever feeling that way again.

Dr. Elias Thorn remained silent, his gaze distant, lost in thought. He couldn’t shake the image of Anna’s fearful eyes, the way she had recoiled when Ringer had made that request. Had they scarred her, damaged her mind in a way that couldn’t be undone? The thought haunted him, gnawing at his conscience. He had always prided himself on being objective, on making decisions based on logic and reason. But now, as he thought about what had happened, he couldn’t help but feel a deep, aching regret.

"Let’s return to Anna," Seraphina said softly, her voice carrying a note of urgency. "She needs us now."

When they reached Anna’s room, they found her sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. The room was dimly lit, the shadows long and heavy, mirroring the turmoil inside her. Her green eyes were wide with confusion and anger, emotions she didn’t fully understand. The air around her was thick, charged with the heat of her

growing power. The temperature in the room had risen slightly, an indication of the emotional storm brewing within her.

Dr. Seraphina Frost was the first to approach, her expression softening as she took in Anna’s distressed state. The sight of the young girl curled up on the bed, her small frame tense and shivering with emotions she couldn’t yet name, made something twist painfully in Seraphina’s chest. Beneath her composed exterior, a fierce protectiveness surged—an instinct she hadn’t felt in years. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her presence calm and reassuring, though inside she still seethed with quiet anger.

"Anna," Seraphina said gently, her voice like a cool breeze on a hot day, "how are you feeling?"

Anna looked up at her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She tried to muster a smile, but it faltered before it could form. "I’m fine," she whispered, though her voice trembled with the lie.

Seraphina’s gaze softened further, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Anna’s shoulder. "You can be honest with me, Anna. You’re safe here."

Anna hesitated, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She had been confused, scared, and now a deep sense of shame gnawed at her. She blamed herself for what had happened with Lieutenant Ringer. She didn’t understand why, but she felt like it was her fault, that somehow she had done something wrong. "I… I don’t know how I feel," she admitted, her voice small and uncertain. "I’m… angry. And I’m confused. Why did the instructor try to make me undress? What did he want?"

Seraphina’s expression tightened for just a moment, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She fought to keep her voice calm, not wanting to add to Anna’s distress. "It’s complicated, Anna. There are things in this world that you’re not ready to understand yet. But what you need to know is this: what he did was wrong, and it wasn’t your fault."

Anna’s eyes welled with tears again, and she looked down at her hands, clenching them into fists. "But… but I felt like… like I did something wrong. Like it was my fault."

Seraphina’s heart ached at the girl’s words. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around Anna in a gentle, protective embrace. "No, Anna. You did nothing wrong," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. "It was his fault, not yours. You are innocent in this. And I promise you, we won’t let anything like that happen again."

Anna clung to Seraphina, her small body trembling with the effort of holding back her tears. She had never felt this way before, this crushing weight of shame and fear. But hearing Seraphina’s words, feeling her warmth, eased the pain just a little. "Promise?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Promise," Seraphina replied, tightening her embrace. "As long as I’m here, you’ll be safe. You have my word."

Anna sniffled, wiping her eyes as she pulled back slightly. "Thank you, Doctor," she whispered, her voice still shaky.

"Call me Seraphina," the doctor said with a soft smile, her eyes warm. "If you want to, that is."

Anna managed a small smile in return. "Okay… Seraphina."

As they shared that brief moment of connection, the door to the room opened, and Hecktor and Dr. Elias Thorn entered, their expressions grim. Behind them, General Ignis Pyre followed, his face a mask of cold resolve. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier as they entered, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Hecktor’s gaze softened when he saw Anna, his heart aching at the sight of her tear-streaked face. "Anna, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern.

Anna looked up at him, nodding slowly. "I’m okay. Really," she said, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her lingering fear.

General Ignis Pyre stepped forward, his presence commanding as always. His expression was unreadable, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or maybe anger at the situation. "He won’t bother you anymore," Ignis said, his voice low and firm. "You have my word."

"Thank you," Anna whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and lingering fear.

Ignis nodded once, then turned and left the room without another word. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading into the distance as he walked away, leaving behind a silence that felt almost oppressive.

Hecktor moved closer, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. His gaze met Anna’s, and he could see the uncertainty and doubt still swirling in her eyes. He wanted to say something, anything, to take away her pain, but he knew words would only go so far. Instead, he reached out and gently patted her hand, offering her a small but reassuring smile.

"If you ever need to talk about what happened, or if you have any questions, we’re here for you," Hecktor said softly, his voice steady and comforting.

Anna looked at him, then at Seraphina, who nodded in agreement. "I know. And thank you," she replied, her voice a little stronger now.

The doctors exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. There was still concern in their eyes, but they respected Anna’s wish to be left alone to process what had happened.

"We’ll leave you to rest now, Anna," Seraphina said gently as she stood up. "If you need anything, just let us know."

"Okay," Anna replied, offering a small, grateful smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Anna," Hecktor said as he followed Seraphina and Dr. Thorn to the door.

As the door closed behind them, Anna was left alone in the quiet room, the shadows deepening as the night settled in. She lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her mind was still racing, but the warmth of Seraphina’s embrace, the reassurance of Hecktor’s words, lingered in her thoughts.

For the first time since she had awoken three days ago, Anna didn’t feel like just a project or an experiment. She felt like someone who mattered, someone who was cared for. And as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift into sleep, she held onto that feeling, knowing that it would carry her through whatever came next.