A Thousand Years Later

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A hand shot from beneath the blankets.

SMACK!

Silence.

For approximately three seconds.

Then Zaki’s eyes opened.

He stared at the ceiling.

Something was wrong.

The room was too bright.

Sunlight poured through the window, stretching well past the curtains and across the floor.

Zaki slowly turned his head toward the clock.

His eyes widened.

“…Oh.”

He blinked.

Then shot upright.

“OH!”

The blankets flew across the room.

Zaki practically launched himself out of bed.

“No, no, no, no—”

He stumbled into a pair of boots, caught himself against the wall, and immediately began searching for the uniform he could have sworn he had prepared the night before.

“Where is it?”

He threw aside a shirt.

“No.”

A towel.

“No.”

One of his sword belts.

“There you are—where’s the uniform?”

He stopped.

Looked down.

The white uniform was hanging neatly over the chair beside his bed.

Zaki stared at it.

“…Right.”

There was no time to appreciate the victory.

Minutes later, his door burst open.

Zaki came flying through it, still fastening the upper portion of his uniform as he ran. His long dreadlocks had been pulled back with considerably less care than usual, and the twin swords at his sides bounced against his hips with every hurried step.

He slammed the door behind him.

Took three steps.

Stopped.

His eyes widened.

“My other glove.”

He disappeared back inside.

A moment later, the door flew open again.

This time, Lieutenant Zaki was actually ready.

Mostly.

He took off running.

Ekklesia unfolded beneath the morning sun.

A thousand years had passed since the Great Revolt.

The scars it left upon history had never disappeared.

But Ekklesia had refused to remain broken.

Great ivory structures rose beneath the golden morning light, their towers connected by elevated walkways and sweeping bridges. Gardens spilled from terraces several stories above the streets. Water flowed through narrow channels cut alongside polished stone pathways, catching the sunlight as it traveled toward fountains and open plazas.

Old architecture stood beside the new.

Some structures had survived centuries.

Others had been rebuilt where ruins once stood.

Together, they formed a city that seemed less interested in forgetting its past than proving it had survived it.

And tearing through the middle of all that beauty at full speed was a Lieutenant who had overslept.

“Morning, Zaki!”

Zaki glanced toward a merchant arranging goods beneath an awning.

“Morning!”

“You’re in a hurry!”

“Love the observational skills!”

He kept running.

A woman farther down the street spotted him.

“Lieutenant!”

Zaki lifted a hand without slowing.

“How’s your mother?”

“Better!”

“Tell her I said hello!”

“I will!”

Two younger soldiers stepped aside as he approached.

“Morning, Lieutenant Zaki!”

“Morning, gentlemen.”

One looked at the other.

“Wasn’t the Continentia meeting this morning?”

Zaki’s smile disappeared.

He ran faster.

The soldiers laughed behind him.

Despite the insignia on his uniform, few people seemed particularly intimidated by him.

That was partly because Zaki had never given them much reason to be.

He knew the shopkeepers.

He remembered names.

He stopped to help when he could.

And somewhere along the way, the people of this particular corner of Ekklesia had become comfortable treating one of Continentia’s Lieutenants less like a distant military officer and more like an older brother who happened to carry two swords.

Today, unfortunately, their older brother was extremely late.

Zaki cut around another corner.

“Excuse me—coming through—sorry—”

He narrowly avoided one pedestrian.

Sidestepped another.

Turned his shoulders between two soldiers.

And walked directly into someone carrying a stack of papers.

WHAM!

Papers exploded into the air.

Zaki stopped.

The young soldier stared at him.

Zaki stared back.

Both looked at the papers slowly fluttering toward the ground.

“…Morning.”

“Lieutenant.”

Zaki crouched immediately.

“My fault.”

“You think?”

“Definitely my fault.”

Together they scrambled to collect the papers.

The soldier handed him the final sheet.

Then paused.

His eyes moved over Zaki’s uniform.

Then his face.

Then back toward the direction Zaki had been running.

“Wait.”

Zaki froze.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Division meeting?”

Zaki handed him the papers.

“Yep.”

The soldier blinked.

Zaki was already running again.

“So I gotta go!”

“Lieutenant!”

“Sorry!”

By the time Zaki reached Continentia headquarters, he had managed to make up several minutes.

Not enough minutes.

But several.

He pushed through the doors and entered the main hall.

The atmosphere changed almost immediately.

Continentia had never been the quietest Division.

That surprised outsiders.

A Division founded upon the virtue of Self-Control was often imagined as a collection of silent, rigid soldiers standing perfectly straight and speaking only when spoken to.

Reality was considerably stranger.

Someone was stretching upside down against a wall.

Two soldiers nearby were arguing about whether controlling one’s pulse during a spar counted as cheating.

Another appeared to be attempting to balance three cups on his forehead.

No one seemed particularly concerned.

Discipline, in Continentia, did not mean becoming less of yourself.

It meant learning to govern yourself.

Its soldiers trained to understand their bodies, their impulses, and their limits with extraordinary precision.

And perhaps because of that, they tended to be unusually comfortable with exactly who they were.

Eccentricities included.

Zaki fit in beautifully.

“Lieutenant.”

Zaki stopped.

Slowly, he turned.

Haziel stood behind him.

Zaki smiled.

“Vice Captain.”

“You’re late.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“You’re late.”

“You said that already.”

“And yet somehow you’re still late.”

Zaki placed a hand over his chest.

“I appreciate your concern.”

“It isn’t concern.”

“It sounded like concern.”

“It was disappointment.”

“Very similar tone.”

Haziel stared at him.

Zaki smiled.

Then Haziel’s eyes narrowed.

He stepped closer.

Zaki’s smile faded.

“What?”

Haziel continued staring.

“…Did you get taller?”

Zaki blinked.

“What?”

“Stand straight.”

“I am standing straight.”

“No, you’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you make yourself look taller.”

Zaki stared at him.

“I don’t have a thing.”

“You absolutely have a thing.”

“Why would I need to make myself look taller?”

Haziel stepped closer until they were almost shoulder to shoulder.

Zaki immediately straightened.

Haziel pointed.

“That.”

“I fixed my posture.”

“You cheated.”

“How do you cheat at height?”

A nearby soldier walked past them.

Neither noticed.

Haziel squinted at the top of Zaki’s head.

“I think you did.”

“Did what?”

“Get taller.”

Zaki grinned.

“Maybe I’m still growing.”

“You’re over a thousand years old.”

“Late bloomer.”

Haziel stared at him for another second.

Then turned away.

“The meeting started fifteen minutes ago.”

Zaki’s grin vanished.

“Fifteen?”

“Sixteen now.”

Zaki hurried after him.

“Why didn’t you start with that?”

“I started with ‘you’re late.’”

“That’s not specific enough.”

They entered the meeting room.

Zaki immediately slowed.

Seats had already been prepared.

Several members of the Division were present.

Documents rested across the central table.

Everything suggested a meeting that should have been well underway.

Except for one thing.

Zaki looked toward the empty seat at the head of the room.

Then at Haziel.

Then back at the chair.

A smile slowly appeared.

“Hold on.”

Haziel said nothing.

Zaki pointed toward the empty chair.

“The Captain isn’t even here.”

“He isn’t.”

Zaki spread his arms.

“Then I’m not late.”

Haziel looked at him.

“That isn’t how time works.”

“If the Captain hasn’t arrived, the meeting hasn’t started.”

“The meeting has a scheduled time.”

“According to who?”

“The Captain.”

“Who isn’t here.”

Haziel opened his mouth.

Stopped.

Zaki smiled triumphantly.

“Exactly.”

A muffled sound came from somewhere beyond the wall.

FWOOM.

The floor trembled.

Everyone stopped.

Zaki looked toward the wall.

“…Was that—”

BOOM!

The door at the opposite end of the chamber blew open.

Smoke poured into the room.

Several soldiers jumped from their seats.

Zaki’s hand instinctively moved toward one of his swords.

A silhouette stumbled through the smoke.

Shorter than Zaki.

Much broader.

Heavy-set.

Balding.

And currently covered from head to toe in soot.

Captain Latimer coughed.

Smoke escaped his mouth.

Everyone stared.

Latimer looked back at the destroyed doorway.

Then at the room.

Then down at the small, cracked device still sparking in his hand.

“…Interesting.”

Haziel closed his eyes.

Zaki slowly lowered his hand from his sword.

“Captain.”

Latimer looked up.

“Zaki!”

His face brightened.

“Excellent. You’re here.”

Haziel looked between them.

“He’s late.”

“So am I.”

Zaki immediately pointed at Latimer.

“Thank you.”

“That doesn’t make you less late.”

Latimer ignored them.

His attention had already returned to the broken device.

“Fascinating.”

Zaki approached cautiously.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Another spark jumped from the device.

POP!

Latimer flinched.

“…Nothing successful.”

Zaki leaned closer.

“What is that?”

Latimer’s expression transformed.

Any embarrassment over the explosion disappeared instantly.

Now he looked delighted.

“I’ve been attempting to measure the precise point at which concentrated Vita becomes unstable when forced through a regulator smaller than its natural flow permits.”

Zaki stared at him.

Haziel stared at him.

Latimer waited.

Zaki nodded slowly.

“Of course.”

“You didn’t understand any of that.”

“Not a word.”

“I did,” Haziel said.

Zaki looked at him.

“Nobody likes you.”

Latimer chuckled.

He placed the damaged device onto the table.

A faint glow still pulsed inside it.

Vita.

Every living being possessed it.

It was life given force—the energy through which will could reach beyond intention and affect the world itself.

Every Ekklesian was born with Vita.

But Vita alone did not determine what someone could do.

How that power expressed itself depended on something deeper.

Their Nature.

Latimer tapped the damaged regulator.

“Vita is remarkably cooperative when you stop trying to force it into doing things it was never meant to do.”

Haziel raised an eyebrow.

“You just blew up half your laboratory trying to force it into doing something it wasn’t meant to do.”

“Yes.”

Latimer smiled.

“Which is how I learned that.”

Zaki laughed.

Latimer picked up the device again.

“Take us, for example.”

He gestured around the room.

“Continentia.”

The name belonged to one of Ekklesia’s seven military Divisions.

But assignment to a Division was not arbitrary.

Every Ekklesian was born with a Nature—an innate alignment that would eventually determine where they belonged.

For those whose Nature reflected Self-Control, that place was Continentia.

And through that Nature came the ability shared by its soldiers:

Body Control.

The conscious regulation of processes most people never had to think about.

Breathing.

Heart rate.

Muscle tension.

Reflexes.

Pain responses.

With sufficient training, even functions that normally operated entirely beyond conscious thought could be brought beneath deliberate command.

But there were limits.

Always limits.

Body Control did not transform the body into something it wasn’t.

It gave its practitioners extraordinary command over what was already there.

Latimer pointed at Zaki.

“You regulate.”

Zaki shrugged.

“Pretty well.”

“Very well.”

Latimer pointed toward Haziel.

“You regulate.”

Haziel nodded.

Then Latimer pointed at himself.

“And despite certain rumors regarding this morning’s laboratory incident, I regulate exceptionally well.”

Zaki looked toward the smoking doorway.

“Evidence is mixed.”

Latimer ignored him.

“But sharing a Nature does not make us identical.”

A small electrical snap suddenly jumped between Haziel’s fingers.

Zaki glanced over.

Haziel allowed the charge to disappear.

Latimer smiled.

“Because Nature is only part of the equation.”

He raised one finger.

“Nature is shared.”

Then a second.

“Manifestation is individual.”

Zaki rested a hand casually against the hilt of one of his swords.

Every Ekklesian was born with a Manifestation, though it remained dormant until it was revealed at the Divide.

Something uniquely theirs.

An expression of Vita that did not come from their Division or their Nature.

Haziel possessed Electricity Manipulation.

Latimer possessed Overclock.

And Zaki—

A metallic pen resting on the table suddenly slid toward him.

It crossed several inches without anyone touching it.

Then snapped into Zaki’s waiting hand.

He twirled it between his fingers.

“Magnetism.”

Latimer pointed approvingly.

“Metal only.”

Zaki tossed the pen back.

It landed beside the broken device.

Haziel glanced at him.

“You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“The unnecessary flourish.”

“It helps the explanation.”

“It absolutely does not.”

Latimer smiled.

“That’s Continentia.”

Zaki looked at him.

“Unnecessary flourishes?”

“Self-mastery.”

Latimer’s expression softened slightly.

“Our Nature teaches us that discipline is not the destruction of personality. It is command over oneself.”

His eyes traveled around the room.

“To understand your body. Your impulses. Your strengths. Your limitations.”

Then he smiled again.

“And once you understand yourself…”

A loud crash came from the laboratory.

Latimer glanced toward it.

“…you become remarkably free to be strange.”

Zaki laughed.

Haziel sighed.

And somewhere behind the smoke, something else exploded.

BOOM!

Latimer winced.

“I should probably deal with that.”

“Captain.”

Latimer stopped.

Haziel stood beside the table, arms folded.

“We don’t have time.”

Latimer looked toward the laboratory.

A thin trail of smoke curled through the doorway.

Something inside made a concerning hiss.

“I would argue that we very much do.”

“The assembly.”

Latimer went still.

Zaki looked at Haziel.

Then at Latimer.

Latimer slowly turned around.

Zaki raised an eyebrow.

“What assembly?”

Haziel closed his eyes.

For several seconds, he said absolutely nothing.

Zaki glanced toward Latimer.

Latimer glanced toward Zaki.

Neither volunteered anything.

Haziel inhaled slowly through his nose.

His shoulders rose.

Then lowered.

Self-Control.

Zaki pointed at him.

“See? Continentia.”

Haziel opened his eyes.

“I am surrounded by incompetence.”

“Strong word.”

“You forgot the assembly.”

“I forgot one assembly.”

“You also forgot the meeting.”

“Technically, I remembered it. I just remembered it late.”

Haziel looked toward Latimer.

“And you?”

Latimer scratched his beard.

“I remembered there was something important today.”

Haziel stared.

“I simply misidentified the important thing.”

“As what?”

Latimer gestured toward the smoking laboratory.

Another POP came from inside.

Haziel’s expression went blank.

Zaki leaned toward him.

“You all right?”

“No.”

“Want to regulate your blood pressure?”

“I am regulating my blood pressure.”

“Good.”

“Because of you.”

Zaki grinned.

Haziel ignored him.

“The Division meeting was supposed to conclude before the general assembly. All seven Divisions have been ordered to attend.”

That got Latimer’s attention.

“All seven?”

“Yes.”

Zaki’s smile faded slightly.

A gathering of several Divisions was hardly unheard of.

All seven being summoned at once was another matter.

“What for?” Zaki asked.

Haziel gathered the documents from the table.

“They didn’t say.”

Latimer’s brow furrowed.

“Who issued the summons?”

“The Council.”

That changed the room.

Even Zaki stopped joking.

“The entire Council?”

Haziel nodded.

“And the Grand Priest will be present.”

Zaki and Latimer exchanged a glance.

Then another violent hiss came from the laboratory.

Latimer looked over his shoulder.

Haziel stepped between him and the door.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“That regulator is extremely unstable.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have built it.”

“I needed to know if it would become unstable.”

Haziel pointed toward the smoke.

“Mystery solved.”

Zaki covered his mouth.

Latimer looked at him.

“Are you laughing?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“I’m supporting the Vice Captain.”

“You called him unlikeable five minutes ago.”

“People grow.”

Haziel walked toward the exit.

“Assembly. Now.”

Zaki followed.

Latimer remained behind for a moment, staring longingly toward his laboratory.

Something crashed.

He winced.

Then hurried after them.

The three emerged from Continentia headquarters into streets considerably more crowded than they had been when Zaki arrived.

They weren’t alone anymore.

Soldiers moved through Ekklesia from nearly every direction.

Different uniforms.

Different insignias.

Different Divisions.

All heading toward the same place.

Zaki fell into step beside Haziel while Latimer walked slightly ahead of them, still examining the damaged Vita regulator he had apparently refused to leave behind.

“You brought it with you?” Haziel asked.

“I might learn something.”

“It exploded.”

“Exactly.”

Haziel looked toward Zaki.

Zaki raised both hands.

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh.”

Zaki looked mildly offended.

The streets widened as they approached the heart of Ekklesia.

The city seemed to open around them.

Towering structures of ivory stone rose beneath the morning sky, their walls traced with gold that caught the sunlight. Bridges stretched overhead between buildings. Water descended along sculpted channels into enormous fountains below.

And everywhere, Ekklesia moved.

Soldiers were only one part of it.

Workers repaired one of the elevated walkways while pedestrians passed beneath them. Merchants opened storefronts along the plazas. Scholars hurried between institutions carrying books and instruments. A group of children clustered around an instructor near one of the gardens.

Zaki watched them as he passed.

A thousand years.

And life continued.

Not unchanged.

Never unchanged.

But alive.

Ahead, the assembly grounds came into view.

Even Zaki slowed.

“Whoa.”

Haziel glanced at him.

“You have been here before.”

“Still impressive.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The great assembly grounds sat within an enormous open courtyard surrounded by towering arches and elevated galleries. Broad stone steps descended toward a central platform visible from nearly every position in the plaza.

But it was the crowd that transformed the place.

Thousands of Ekklesians filled it.

The seven military Divisions had been arranged into distinct formations surrounding the central platform.

Beyond them stood another body altogether.

Civitas.

Unlike the military Divisions, Civitas was not defined by a single Nature.

Every Nature could be found among its people.

Physicians.

Engineers.

Builders.

Researchers.

Teachers.

Craftsmen.

Administrators.

Laborers.

And countless others whose service to Ekklesia took forms that did not require a weapon.

If the seven Divisions defended Ekklesia, Civitas ensured there remained an Ekklesia worth defending.

They built its roads, treated its injured, educated its young, maintained its infrastructure, and performed the countless tasks that kept a civilization alive.

They were not an eighth military Division.

They were the life surrounding the seven.

Zaki’s attention shifted back toward the military formations.

Seven Divisions.

Each shaped by a different virtue.

Each populated by Ekklesians whose Nature had placed them there.

And each gathered beneath its Captain.

“Looks like we’re late,” Zaki said.

Haziel looked at him.

“We?”

Latimer immediately pointed toward Zaki.

“Him.”

Zaki stared at his Captain.

“That was fast.”

“I have responsibilities.”

“You forgot the assembly!”

“Yes, but now I remember my responsibilities.”

Haziel walked between them.

“Please stop talking.”

Continentia took its position among the seven.

Nearby soldiers noticed their Captain immediately.

Mostly because Latimer still had soot on his face.

A few stared.

Latimer smiled politely.

No one asked.

Zaki scanned the assembly.

The Captains were difficult to miss.

Humilitas stood nearest one side of the central platform.

At its front was Cassandra.

She was tiny compared with most of the officers surrounding her—barely reaching four-foot-eleven—but nothing about her presence felt small. Her posture was immaculate, her expression stern, and the soldiers behind her stood with the unmistakable discipline of people who knew their Captain noticed everything.

Humilitas.

Humility.

Restoration.

Zaki caught Cassandra looking toward them.

More specifically—

Toward Latimer.

She looked at the soot.

Then at the smoking device in his hand.

Then back at him.

Latimer smiled.

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.

Latimer slowly lowered the device behind his back.

Zaki snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing, Captain.”

Farther along stood Largitio.

Generosity.

Bestowal.

Captain Azariah stood at its head, an archer whose relaxed posture looked almost inappropriate beside the rigid military formations around him.

Almost.

He noticed Zaki looking and gave him a casual nod.

Zaki returned it.

Tolerantia stood beyond them.

Patience.

Forbearance.

And at its front stood Captain Rosh.

Dark skin contrasted sharply with blond hair, blond eyebrows, and a blond beard. A staff rested beside him, held loosely in one hand. Despite his position, Rosh seemed perfectly content allowing every other Captain to attract the attention.

Zaki respected that.

Mostly because the next Captain made it impossible.

“LATIMER!”

The voice carried across several formations.

Latimer sighed.

Zaki grinned.

“Oh, here we go.”

Captain Kareem was waving at them.

Not subtly.

There was very little about Kareem that could be described as subtle.

Temperantia’s Captain wore his personality as openly as his uniform, and his enormous afro—split dramatically between black and gold—made him recognizable from practically anywhere in the assembly.

Temperance.

Equilibrium.

Kareem looked Latimer up and down.

Then placed both hands on his hips.

“My friend!”

Several nearby soldiers turned.

“You look terrible!”

Latimer called back.

“Good morning, Kareem.”

“What happened?”

“Experiment.”

Kareem slapped his hands together.

“I knew it!”

“You couldn’t possibly have known that.”

“I absolutely knew that.”

“You just asked what happened.”

“That was for everyone else.”

Zaki laughed.

Haziel muttered something beneath his breath.

Kareem’s eyes shifted.

He spotted Zaki.

“And there he is!”

Zaki’s smile immediately became suspicious.

Kareem pointed across the assembly.

“Lieutenant!”

“Kareem.”

“Captain Kareem.”

“You called me Lieutenant.”

“Because you are one.”

“And you’re Kareem.”

A few soldiers laughed.

Kareem placed a hand against his chest as though mortally wounded.

“Disrespect.”

“Morning to you too.”

Kareem grinned.

“Still short?”

Zaki stared at him.

Haziel slowly turned toward Zaki.

Zaki pointed at him without looking.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

Kareem laughed loudly enough for another formation to turn toward them.

A woman standing at the head of Satietas looked over.

Captain Amira.

She was powerfully built, with the physique of someone who seemed more comfortable on a battlefield than anywhere else. Scars marked portions of her visible skin, and one eye remained pale and clouded.

Satietas.

Contentment.

Adaptation.

Amira looked at Kareem.

“Kareem.”

He stopped laughing.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Kareem considered this.

“No.”

Amira turned away.

Zaki smiled.

“Missed these meetings.”

“You slept through the last one,” Haziel said.

“That is completely unrelated.”

Industria occupied another section nearby.

Diligence.

Effort Memory.

Its Captain, Valentine, looked almost ordinary beside some of the personalities surrounding him. Average build. Glasses. Sword at his side.

Nothing particularly extravagant.

Which made it easy to forget that among the Captains, Valentine was considered one of the finest pure swordsmen alive.

He had not reached that level through some overwhelming gift.

He had practiced.

And practiced.

And practiced.

Which, Zaki supposed, was exactly what one should expect from Industria.

Then there was Continentia.

Self-Control.

Body Control.

Their Captain was covered in soot.

Zaki looked at Latimer.

Latimer looked back.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I feel judged.”

“You should.”

Seven Divisions.

Seven Captains.

Seven different expressions of the virtues that had shaped Ekklesian society for generations.

Different philosophies.

Different methods.

Different powers.

Yet all served the same realm.

At least now they did.

Zaki’s smile faded for only a moment.

A thousand years ago, that unity had nearly disappeared forever.

A resonant tone rolled through the assembly grounds.

Conversation died almost instantly.

Kareem stopped talking.

That alone impressed Zaki.

Everyone turned toward the central platform.

Above it sat eight positions.

The Council of Eight.

Some still called them the Elected Eight.

Different name.

Same institution.

Seven of its members represented the seven military Divisions.

The eighth represented Civitas.

Together, they carried responsibilities that had once rested far more heavily upon a single office.

Zaki’s eyes drifted higher.

There was another place within the architecture.

Empty.

It had been empty for a very long time.

The General.

Once, a single warrior had held authority over all seven Divisions.

Once, that warrior had been Meir.

There had never been another.

In the aftermath of the Great Revolt, Ekklesia had left the office vacant.

After Meir’s betrayal, they had not been willing to place the Seven Divisions beneath a single General again.

Military decisions of sufficient importance instead passed through the Council.

Debate.

Consensus.

Vote.

For a thousand years, that was how Ekklesia had governed its military.

Zaki looked away from the empty position.

Nearby, Haziel had noticed.

He said nothing.

Another figure stood apart from the Eight.

The Grand Priest.

His presence was unmistakable even without announcement.

He did not occupy a ninth seat among the Council because he was not its ninth member.

His responsibilities belonged elsewhere.

The Council governed.

The Grand Priest safeguarded the foundational law beneath that governance.

Today, however, he remained silent.

One of the Eight rose.

Zaki did not recognize the representative personally.

That wasn’t unusual.

Most soldiers knew the Council as an institution far better than they knew every individual who served upon it.

The representative stepped forward.

The assembly became completely still.

“Soldiers of the Seven Divisions.”

Their voice carried throughout the courtyard.

“Citizens of Civitas.”

Thousands listened.

“You have been summoned today by order of the Council of Eight.”

A pause.

“For generations, Ekklesia has known peace from war.”

Zaki’s expression changed slightly.

Around him, soldiers listened.

“That peace was not inherited without cost.”

The representative’s gaze traveled across the gathered Divisions.

“It was purchased by those who came before us, preserved by those who followed them, and entrusted to every generation thereafter.”

Zaki glanced toward the empty General’s position again.

“And it remains our responsibility to protect it.”

The representative allowed the words to settle.

“In recent months, patrols operating beyond Ekklesia’s primary territories have documented an increase in hostile creature activity.”

A murmur spread through the assembly.

Latimer stopped examining his broken regulator.

The representative continued.

“Isolated encounters are not unusual.”

That was true.

Ekklesia’s military had existed long before the Great Revolt.

Humanity was not the only thing in creation capable of violence.

There were creatures beyond the protected territories that had threatened travelers, settlements, and sometimes entire regions since long before anyone present had been born.

Even before Meir’s rebellion.

The Seven Divisions existed to defend against threats such as these.

But something about the representative’s wording bothered Zaki.

Increase.

“Several patrols have now reported encounters in regions where such creatures have rarely been observed.”

The murmuring grew.

“Migration?” someone whispered nearby.

“Could be.”

“From where?”

Zaki glanced toward Latimer.

The Captain was no longer looking at his regulator.

His eyes remained fixed on the Council representative.

His usual absentminded smile had disappeared.

Zaki noticed.

He said nothing.

The representative continued.

“At present, the Council has found no evidence of an immediate threat to Ekklesia.”

The tension eased slightly.

“However, we will not wait for a threat to arrive at our gates before attempting to understand it.”

That earned several approving murmurs.

“The Council has therefore authorized the formation of a specialized operation.”

Now Zaki was listening.

Really listening.

“Selected soldiers from across the Seven Divisions will operate jointly to investigate these disturbances, determine their cause, and assess whether further military intervention is necessary.”

Zaki leaned forward slightly.

Joint operation.

Different Divisions.

Unknown territory.

Unknown enemies.

Haziel glanced sideways.

He knew that look.

“No.”

Zaki whispered back.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to.”

The representative raised a hand.

“Selecting those soldiers presents an unusual challenge.”

The courtyard quieted again.

“Our Divisions train differently.”

Their gaze moved across the formations.

“Our Natures differ.”

Humilitas.

Largitio.

Tolerantia.

Satietas.

Industria.

Temperantia.

Continentia.

“Our Manifestations differ.”

A faint smile appeared on the representative’s face.

“And our soldiers are exceptionally fond of arguing over which Division is superior.”

Kareem immediately lifted his hand.

“Temperantia.”

Laughter erupted across the courtyard.

Even several Council members appeared amused.

Amira covered her face.

Cassandra looked like she wanted to personally remove Kareem from the assembly.

The representative waited.

Kareem lowered his hand.

“Apologies.”

A beat.

“Still true.”

More laughter.

Even Zaki joined in.

The representative shook their head before continuing.

“Then perhaps it is time we settle the argument.”

That changed the atmosphere instantly.

Zaki’s laughter faded.

Around him, soldiers exchanged looks.

Some smiled.

Others straightened.

Kareem’s grin became enormous.

“Oh.”

Haziel sighed.

“Here we go.”

The representative spread their arms.

“By authorization of the Council of Eight…”

Silence fell.

“…Ekklesia will hold the Seven Division Tournament.”

The courtyard erupted.

Thousands of voices collided at once.

Questions.

Cheers.

Boasts.

Arguments that had apparently been waiting years for official permission.

Zaki remained still.

For about two seconds.

Then a grin slowly spread across his face.

Haziel saw it.

“No.”

“What?”

“That face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’re making right now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re entering.”

Zaki looked toward the platform.

The representative was still speaking, explaining that details regarding qualification, structure, and selection would be distributed to each Division.

But Zaki had heard the important part.

Exceptional performance would be considered in selecting soldiers for the specialized operation.

This wasn’t simply a contest.

It was an opportunity.

To fight opponents he did not normally face.

To test himself against unfamiliar Natures.

Unfamiliar Manifestations.

Different combat philosophies.

Different weapons.

To discover weaknesses his own training could never reveal.

To become stronger.

Haziel studied him.

“You’re thinking about it.”

“Of course I’m thinking about it.”

“You’re definitely entering.”

Zaki’s grin widened.

“Probably.”

“That means yes.”

“Probably means probably.”

“I’ve known you for too long.”

Zaki glanced toward Latimer.

The Captain was still staring toward the platform.

For only a moment, the excitement surrounding the tournament seemed to pass around him without touching him.

Then Latimer blinked.

His familiar warmth returned.

He tucked the damaged regulator beneath one arm.

Zaki raised an eyebrow.

Latimer smiled.

Whatever had caught his attention, he clearly wasn’t interested in discussing it here.

Fine.

Zaki could wait.

For now—

he looked across the assembly.

Thousands of soldiers.

Seven Divisions.

And somewhere among them were opponents he had never fought.

His fingers rested against the hilts of his twin swords.

For everyone around him, the tournament represented something different.

Pride.

Competition.

Recognition.

A chance to prove their Division superior.

For Zaki, it was something simpler.

A step.

One more step forward.

His thoughts drifted somewhere they had traveled countless times over the last thousand years.

A battlefield.

A closing passage.

A torn white uniform disappearing into darkness.

MASTER!

Zaki’s smile faded.

A thousand years had passed.

The question had not.

Why?

His fingers tightened around the hilt of one sword.

The next time would be different.

He didn’t know when that day would come.

He didn’t know how.

But when he stood before Meir again—

he would be ready.

“Zaki.”

He blinked.

Haziel was staring at him.

“What?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Having an entire dramatic conversation with yourself.”

Zaki stared at him.

“You don’t know that.”

“You’ve been staring into the distance for almost thirty seconds.”

“It was an important thirty seconds.”

Haziel shook his head.

Zaki’s grin returned.

Across the courtyard, Kareem suddenly shouted above the crowd.

“CONTINENTIA!”

Zaki looked over.

Kareem pointed directly at him.

“I HOPE YOU’VE BEEN TRAINING!”

Hundreds of heads turned.

Zaki slowly smiled.

Haziel immediately stepped away from him.

“No.”

Zaki cupped his hands around his mouth.

“WORRY ABOUT YOURSELF!”

The surrounding Continentia soldiers erupted.

Kareem laughed.

Amira closed her eyes.

Cassandra looked increasingly disappointed in everyone.

Valentine adjusted his glasses.

Rosh quietly pretended not to know any of them.

Latimer finally laughed.

And for the moment, whatever concern had crossed his face disappeared beneath the noise of seven Divisions suddenly given permission to find out which among them was strongest.

The Seven Division Tournament was coming.

And Lieutenant Zaki had absolutely no intention of watching from the sidelines.