Edward woke up feeling tense in his stomach. Today is the day he was going to meet team Echo. His new role filled him with doubts, he knew already that if he kept following the path of a Legend, one day he would become a leader for others. It’s just that the day seemed to have arrived sooner than expected. He would be leading others towards the battlefield no less. Ed wasn’t a naive kid anymore, nothing was ever certain in the heat of battle, anything could go wrong at any time, he experienced it himself after all.

The young warrior folded the white sheets, trying to find some calm in the simple routine. He poured himself some coffee and enjoyed the last peaceful moment of the day. It's a good thing the living quarters were differently decorated than the hallways. The dark grey walls, cozy lighting and nice wooden furniture helped him relax. The rest of the facility made him feel like he was visiting a mental asylum.

Come to think of it, why was every psychiatric hospital surrounded by empty white walls? Even if you locked a healthy person in a place like that, they would go crazy in a couple of weeks. Seems a bit counter productive.

Ed put down the empty cup, and walked over to his bag taking out a spare uniform. It clung tightly to his chest, outlining his sculpted muscles. He put on a pair of shorts on top, attaching his sword to the belt. As he slipped on his leather shoes, and was about to exit the room, he remembered one other thing. He went back to grab his phone from the nightstand, and secured it tightly in a small pouch on his shoulder.

The automatic door locked by itself, as Edward walked out once again onto the white hallway. Some people in grey military uniforms hurried along its cold interior. The facility bustled with activity, a lively sight of preparation for a day full of death.

Ed navigated the labyrinth of the intersecting corridors, checking his phone multiple times to make sure he’s on the correct path.

He was looking through the information provided along the map of the facility by officer Thompson. The man did a really good job yesterday, providing them with everything needed for their stay here. Hopefully the next time they meet, it won’t be on the frontlines.

Edward finally arrived in a large hangar, far away from the rest of the building, the sounds of all the commotion would be imperceptible for a regular person.

On the side of the room between some stacked crates a small group of five soldiers was gathered. Dressed in full, dark green combat gear, including ballistic vests, grenades and high caliber rifles, they seemed to fit the description of his team.

The young Marked steeled his resolve, calming his facial muscles as he walked closer.

Some of the members of team Echo noticed his arrival, bumping others on the shoulder and pointing in his direction with their heads. A woman with her hair in a bun was the first to notice Edward, and led the group in forming a rough straight line before him.

The young warrior took his time, resting his hand on a hilt of his sword before speaking.

“Team Echo I presume?”

Some of the soldiers looked at each other blankly, before answering mostly in unison.

“Yes sir.”

‘Of course they are team Echo, you already knew that, what are you even saying dumbass.’ Edward lectured himself in his head, still keeping a composed expression before the soldiers.

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Trying not to get discouraged, he continued.

“As you well probably informed, I’ll be leading this team in the upcoming battle. My name is Edward Thornfield, no need for a title, but I’m fine with being called sir. If you want to ask any questions before we start, now is the time.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in the room.

‘God damnit, why are they not saying anything?!’ A small bead of sweat slowly traveled down the back of Edward’s neck. All he was taught was how to direct people during the battle, and various strategies one could use in different kinds of battlegrounds. Not how to talk to a bunch of 30-year old battle hardened troopers, who seemed to want to make his life difficult on purpose.

“I thought he’d be more imposing honestly…” a rugged looking soldier whispered quietly to one of his neighbors.

“Right? He doesn’t even look 20. Weren’t Marked supposed to be some superhuman warriors?” his friend responded in a barely audible tone.

Unfortunately for them, along with Edward’s evolving body, so did his senses. And the inhuman hearing picked up each one of their words very clearly.

‘So that’s how it is… finally it makes more sense.’ With the problem being clear, Edward deliberated for a moment, before deciding to take a page from Tarquin’s book.

‘Time to show them their place I guess, now what would be the best way…’ His eyes landed on a handgun attached to the soldier’s thigh. An evil thought appeared in his head…

He readied himself for the performance of his lifetime, and approached the man who was the first to whisper.

“Hey you, what's your name soldier?”

“Joseph, sir.” a serious expression returned to the man’s face.

Edward gestured lightly towards the sidearm holster.

“Take it out Joseph.”

The soldier hesitantly performed the action, periodically glancing on his friends, but not seeing any assistance from their side.

“Now then, Joseph… shoot me.”

The deadly silence seemed to grow even louder, the other soldiers looking doubtful towards the suicidal madman. Meanwhile Ed walked even closer to the man.

“Come on now, I’m sure you all heard about the Marked and the Legends. You should know that something like that can’t hurt me, or do you have some doubts about my abilities?” Edward raised his eyebrow as high as he could.

Everyone stood still, afraid to say anything, in fear of becoming a new target. Seeing no reaction, the young warrior lightly grabbed the gun, bringing it higher, now pointing straight to his chest.

“Go on, it’s an order from the superior.”

Joseph’s eyes jumped back and forth across the others, looking for any way out of this situation. Does he shoot his team leader, or refuse his order? Drops of sweat started dripping down from his forehead, even the sound of them hitting the floor could be heard in the quiet room.

“Well since you chose insubordination… “ Edward clenched his fingers around the hilt of his sword.

Suddenly the swift whisper of a blade pulled from its sheath cut through the silence, followed by a loud gunshot reverberating throughout the hangar…

The rugged looking soldier slowly opened his eyes, seeing the remains of a golden aura fading before his eyes. He felt a cold sting on the side of his neck. Carefully turning his head to the side, he stared into his own reflection, glistening in the smooth metal of a deadly blade. Following the arm holding the sword, his gaze landed on a smiling face of Edward, the most nefarious smile the man had ever seen. Below his feet a flattened 9mm bullet laid on the floor.

The crazy Marked slowly lowered his sword, then swiftly sheathed it back in the scabbard.

“Trust me, there’s a reason why I was chosen to lead this team. And I’m not planning on taking this job lightly…”