Piper

“We are all gathered here today to both celebrate and mourn, to remember the Mercurien lives lost in the defense of Oceana II and the entire sector,” intoned the Headmaster, his voice echoing through the cavernous coliseum. The assembly was massive, a sea of faces under the cold gaze of towering mechs, both security and military, standing sentinel. The students, their ranks distinguishable only by the varying colors of their uniforms, filled the vast space.

Piper stood among them, her casual attire and academy suit replaced by the stark, military-esque garb issued for such somber occasions. Her posture was rigid, hands clasped behind her back, the brim of her cap casting a shadow over her eyes as she focused on Marcus's broad shoulders in front of her. She had hoped for a reprieve, but this somber assembly was far from a break.

Margaret stood beside Marcus, her hand gently rubbing his arm in silent support. Piper noticed the slight tremors in his frame, a telltale sign of the grief coursing through him. In Marcus’s hands was a large photograph of Lucas, one of the many who would be honored posthumously today, buried alongside dozens of others who had perished in the liberation of the Oceana systems. Once seen as mere plebs, they were now heroes in death. Piper couldn’t help but wonder, where had everything gone wrong?

As the Headmaster continued his eulogy, Piper's fingers curled into a fist, her knuckles whitening. She could hear the murmurs from those around her, whispers of discontent that seeped into the solemnity of the moment.

“I get that they helped,” muttered a cadet behind her, the voice distinctly feminine. “But this is supposed to be our day. Why does House Mars have to take center stage like this?”

Henryk and the others stood awkwardly silent, the red splotches on their right sleeves stark against the somber fabric of their long suits. Caps pulled low, they felt the weight of the situation keenly, a palpable tension that pressed down on them.

Kieren’s eyes darted around the platform, his discomfort evident. “This sucks,” he muttered to Joseph, his voice low and tense. “Everyone’s eyes are on us.”

“Shut up,” Joseph hissed back, their exchange cutting off abruptly as they noticed the Headmaster’s gaze sweeping their way. They fell silent, their discomfort growing under the scrutiny of the assembled crowd.

The cadets continued their hushed conversation. This time, it was a more masculine voice. "One of their Executors saved the planet years ago. I don’t remember exactly, but House Mars earned the right to shine like this," he said, his tone tinged with reluctant admiration.

"They are shamed," the girl curtly replied, her words slicing through the air.

The boy chuckled softly. "Looks like the Headmaster doesn’t see it that way. Seems like he remembers his debts," he stated with a knowing smirk.

The girl’s eyes flared, and though Piper couldn’t see her face, she sensed the intensity. "That boy and the rest did their part in saving Oceana, but we—"

"Don’t be an idiot, Clarissa," the boy interrupted, his breath rattling with barely contained frustration. "That damned druid, or mutant, or whatever. You saw what he did to them. Heck, it made me glad they were on our side."

Piper turned around, her gaze piercing as daggers. The pair's features twisted into instant anxiety under the weight of her green and grey eyes.

"I think it would be for the best if you quiet down," Piper declared, her voice cold and commanding. She recognized the boy as the first one who had climbed into the tank cannon. The girl nearly yelped in shock, and the boy wore an awkward, silent smile.

Piper turned back as the Headmaster’s grey beard came into her vision. She glanced briefly and spotted Henryk, his gaze fixated ahead, looking awkward with his hastily assembled hair hidden under a cap. She refocused on the Headmaster, who was now smiling as he gripped the wooden podium. His words echoed from the microphone.

"It was a tragedy that befell Oceana II," the Headmaster intoned. "And to know that two bodies of students were stationed there: House Mercury in its protection and salvaging of members, some even here today, and House Mars in its cleansing of GrimGar, a pesky race of aliens. However, reports state of their newfound technological prowess!"

Logan's eyes widened as his mind drifted back to that time in the forest. His blue eyes locked onto Ed’s. Edward was staring at him, smiling.

"I thought House Mars wasn’t even allowed to go on missions anymore?" a girl whispered, pulling Logan back to the present.

"Looks like they found a way around," someone muttered from the Neptunian ranks. "The Martians always find their ways."

The room began to darken, an almost tangible gloom settling over the assembled cadets and faculty. The screen behind the Headmaster flickered to life, its cold light cutting through the dimness. Henryk nearly took a step forward, his breath catching as familiar footage rolled across the screen, still bearing the stark headlines of the news.

"That's us," Henryk's voice rattled through the ranks of the Sons of Mars, barely above a whisper yet heavy with the weight of memory.

The screen displayed their transport, wreathed in flames. The scene shifted to Henryk himself, diving into the fray, a symphony of TANK cannon blasts and laser fire raining death upon the foes of humanity. The audience watched, riveted, as the Headmaster's words boomed over the spectacle, commanding attention.

"Observe their spacefaring vessels... their Warcaskets!" he bellowed, as Henryk's mech ignited its beam saber and tore through an enemy warcasket with brutal efficiency.

The Headmaster's hand thrust towards the contingent of House Mars. "They fought for the innocent and the weak that day!" His voice thundered, punctuated by a resounding slam of his hand on the podium. "We honor the dead of Mercury, but Mars shined that day... like before. Aspire to their example!"

Among the ranks stood Jaicob, his blue Neptunian uniform a stark contrast to the House Venus students beside him. He nudged the person next to him, making a talking hand gesture that elicited stifled laughter from his companions.

Henryk's realization hit him with the force of a blow: the Martians were being honored, positioned on a pedestal of stone, while the Mercurians... The ancient rites dictated that House Mars would forever stand among the honored, their deeds immortalized in tradition. How deep did this cultural reverence run? Henryk wondered, his mind spinning.

His thoughts flitted to Ed. It was Ed who had secured them new mechs and a substantial influx of funds, allowing them to repair their house and gain new amenities. Yet, Henryk was acutely aware of his alien status; he was not a Mercurian, not from the myriad worlds they hailed from. They saw him as one of their Executors, a guardian, and that belief forged an unbreakable bond.

The Headmaster's voice broke through his reverie, carrying a weight of weariness as his gaze swept across the assembly. Henryk knew, with a certainty that chilled him, that the Headmaster's eyes were searching for Sirine, hidden among the crowd like the princess she was.

"I am dying." The words echoed through the room, a proclamation that fell like a hammer. Silence followed, a stunned, reverent hush that stilled even the Sons of Mars and their mechs.

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"I've lived such a long life," the Headmaster continued, his voice a weary rasp. "And I've seen so many young people die." He paused, drawing in a ragged breath. "You truly are the perfect heroes. Now, the inheritance of the academy is going to be up for question."

There were murmurs of dissent rippling through the crowd as the Headmaster resumed speaking. "This world has its traditions... they may seem foreign to many here, but some of you understand." His gaze lingered on the students of Venus before drifting to the ranks of Mars. "There is a competition that will commence... a professor from my ranks will personally mentor a student among you. They will be trained, and on the day I die, those who endure will compete for her hand."

The murmurs erupted into full-blown chatter, voices buzzing like a hive stirred to anger. Piper stared at her own ranks, her eyes drifting towards Zephyr. Did he know about this? Jace wore a satisfied smirk, his gaze shifting to Sirine before locking onto Henryk, who returned the look with a glare that could burn.

The Headmaster pressed on. "They will fight in a battle royale, those who survive the challenges and tribulations of the years to come." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "You have two years."

With that proclamation, he dismounted from the platform and walked away. The crowd and students erupted into a cacophony of uproar, the gravity of the announcement sending shockwaves through the assembly.

Henryk

Henryk and the others joined the flood of students pushing their way out, finally emerging into the early afternoon sun. The warm light greeted them, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere inside.

"Do any of you guys have classes today?" Ed asked the group.

"They were canceled for the funeral," Kieren was the first to answer.

"That was a funeral?" Joseph replied mockingly. "Heck, I felt kind of bad for the Mercurians."

"You pity them?" Arthur regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

Joseph kept his gaze forward. "They had a bunch of their guys dead defending the Oceana Sector. Heck, it became something else... I know the Headmaster can be a bit eccentric, but it got a bit much in there."

As they broke into the sunlight, groups of friends formed around them, chattering and dispersing. Henryk and the others surveyed the crowd, the size of it making Ed uneasy. "I don't want to stick around too long," he said. "So, day off... what's everyone planning on doing?"

Henryk shrugged. "I was planning on going to the music building..."

The world outside the auditorium seemed brighter, almost too bright, as if trying to erase the weight of the ceremony. The chatter of students, the rustling of leaves, and the distant hum of the city created a tapestry of sound that was a stark contrast to the silence and tension inside. Henryk felt a strange dissonance, a lingering echo of the Headmaster’s words mingling with the mundane concerns of a free afternoon.

Axel snorted. "Relax with that hick... we've got training," he stated.

Ed sighed and raised his hand. "Henryk distinguished himself out there. Let him have the day with the others."

Axel rolled his eyes, and Ed cocked his head toward the squares. "You're in charge of them... the Knights will take the day."

Kieren’s eyes widened and then narrowed. "How the hell is that fair?" he demanded, pointing at Henryk. "I won that duel, and technically Henryk is both a subordinate and a squire, and he gets the day?"

Ed shook his head. "We just got back from Oceana II. Everyone needs time to think."

Ed turned to face the others, unknowingly missing Kieren’s simmering rage. He directed his gaze to the Knights. "I've got a shift at the butcher's," Arthur said.

Ed cocked his head toward Henryk. "Hey, Henryk. If you want... the electrician messaged me and let me know that the house’s Wi-Fi and electricity are running."

Everyone was practically ready to cheer, except Arthur, who looked at them strangely. "Wi-Fi?" he asked.

Isaac clapped him on the back. "Don’t worry, big guy... we'll get you caught up to speed."

"What are you planning, Prez?" questioned Isaac.

Ed chuckled. "I'm going to stop by our benefactor's guild. The girl who works there knows Warcaskets, and I want to know the full capabilities of what these mechs are capable of."

As everyone discussed how they were going to spend the day off, Kieren and the squires sulked angrily. Meanwhile, Henryk made his way opposite the group, wiping his eyes and feeling the fatigue rippling through him.

"Maybe... I should sleep," he sighed to himself, his hand leveling on his features. Then, he was betrayed by images. Dead corpses, both human and GrimGar, and that GrimGar... the one laughing at him from atop the vessel and...

The fury hit him like lightning! He remembered how his laser rifle felt after each thump of the trigger, the way his sword cleaved off a GrimGar’s head. The sickening feeling of tearing through sinew, muscle, skin. Was this really what it meant to be a Knight of Mars? These spoils that Ed was promising him... would he even live long enough to enjoy them?

The horrors of Oceana II flooded back in vivid detail, the stench of burning metal and flesh, the screams of the dying. It was all too real, too fresh. The celebration of their return felt hollow, a cruel juxtaposition to the nightmare still playing in his mind. The laughter of his comrades around him faded, replaced by the haunting echoes of battle. Henryk shuddered, his body a vessel of fatigue and rage, caught between the need for rest and the relentless onslaught of his memories.

"Maybe I should sleep," he muttered again, but the images refused to fade, each one a stark reminder of the cost of being a Knight.

Then, he felt someone tapping along his back. "Marcus," Henryk said, turning to face him.

Marcus's hands were free from his friend's memorial photo. There was a melancholy in his movements, eyes blazing through thick black frames, fingers curled into tight fists. The cuffs of his jacket were rolled up, exposing tense forearms.

"Hey, Henryk," Marcus tried to muster a smile, but it failed along the ridges of his features. "How are you doing... I heard you were on Oceana II as well."

Henryk’s eyes widened as he was besieged by multiple images of the city of Oceana II—fighting both on the ground and in space, chaos and fire intermingling with the screams of war.

"Was that your first time in true combat?" Marcus asked. "I could swear you mentioned before that you were from the frontier."

Henryk let out a rattling breath. "Fighting alongside Pluto... fighting alongside the Knights of Mars, Marcus, it was something I hadn’t felt before," he paused, searching for the right words. "I don’t know how to explain it..."

Marcus raised his hand. "I was born on a Midworld, ever heard of Edeet III?" he questioned.

Henryk shook his head in response.

"We're a small lot, but we’ve got technology that puts us ahead of most midworlds. I was just going to some stupid high school a couple of years ago... now, I am piloting a sniper mech along the fringes of the galaxy."

Marcus let that settle in. Henryk nodded along. "I was part of my school’s baseball team," Henryk commented, his voice tinged with disbelief. "...and I sliced off a GrimGar’s head," he added, bringing his hand to his throat and mimicking the gesture. "Marcus, I came here for a pilot certification... I have a degree in music, for Christ's sake."

Marcus's eyes widened. "What do you mean by this, Henryk?"

Henryk paused, a deep sensitivity appearing in his expression. His eyes narrowed as they glared at the asphalt. "I was really lucky to get this far... heck, if you and Lucas didn’t..."

He paused at the name, sadness settling upon him. Henryk felt a weight in his chest as his voice tapered off. "You guys evened out the playing field with me versus Piper. Sure, I didn’t get into House Mercury... but Ed was able to use that to get me into his house. I am grateful to you, Lucas, Piper for forgiving me, Ed for taking his chance on me, Axel for training me, Isaac for..."

"Whoa, Henryk," Marcus interjected, leveling himself. A cold sweat appeared along Henryk’s brow. "What are you trying to say? You have nothing to be sorry for," Marcus sighed. "Me and Lucas didn’t like how Zephyr was using you. But maybe, there was a better way."

Henryk's gaze softened as Marcus's words settled over him. The heavy memories of Oceana II, the chaos and bloodshed, all swirled together in a confusing storm of guilt and gratitude. He felt the weight of survival, the strange twist of fate that had brought him here, mingling with the ghosts of those who hadn't made it.

“Yeah, a better way,” Henryk muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “I’ve got options… sure, this path leads to riches, but I’ve got my mom and sisters to worry about.”

Marcus’s eyes widened at that. “Henryk, are you thinking of…”

Henryk cut him off with a different question. “You mentioned earlier that you were fighting around Oceana II as well… listen, I heard that something happened and you guys weren’t coming to classes, and then the news came out that some people got captured… and people put two and two together. What happened out there?”

Marcus’s eyes widened, and he glanced nervously around the bustling crowd.

“Listen,” Marcus stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You Martians, you’re an alright lot,” he regarded. “You’re rough, but I have you guys to thank for saving us out there.” Marcus smiled and patted Henryk on the shoulder.

Henryk’s eyes were wide with confusion. “What do you mean, Marcus?”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed, a glint of something unspoken passing between them. “Chin up, Henryk. I’m just saying you guys are pretty tight… I owe you and the others. You’ve made friends in House Mercury.” He started to wade through the crowd, waving. “You’re a damn good pilot… and you were the shining star of Oceana II.”

Henryk’s eyes grew wide. “What are you talking about?”

Marcus chuckled hard. “You should check the news!” he shouted as he waved. “Zephyr made a mistake in not taking you, Henryk Brown!”

Henryk stood silent for a moment, absorbing Marcus’s words. Then he chuckled, a mix of pride and disbelief bubbling up inside him.