Cael woke, choking on ash that wasn't there.
His eyes flew open in the dark, and for a second, he didn't know where he was. The taste of smoke still lingered in his throat. The heat, the screaming, the sound of earth tearing apart—gone now, but not forgotten. Just a dream, he told himself. Another nightmare. One of too many. But the scent stayed. Faint. Like charcoal soaked into his memory.
He lay still, breathing hard, eyes tracking the thin seam of white light leaking from under the barracks door. A false dawn. The Board didn't follow the sun. It had its own clock, its own rhythm. And today, it was waking.
Outside the bunk curtain, he heard movement. Boots scraping. Cloth rustling. The clink of weapons being checked and rechecked. There was no call for assembly. No sirens. Just that quiet, collective shift of people preparing for something bigger than fear.
By the time Cael dressed and stepped into the war room, most of the others were already there. The room didn't hum today.
It pulsed.
Not loud. Not erratic. Just a low, rhythmic vibration running through the walls like a distant drumbeat. A heartbeat. As if the Board itself was stretching beneath their feet, impatient to begin. Every screen shimmered faintly. The air buzzed with data, alive and watching.
Cael stood among the others, wrist bare, eyes tracing the flicker of the massive grid that hovered in front of them. The map had changed again—new overlays, pulsing zones, hazard trajectories rendered in moving light. At its core: not just a tile, but a line. A full center row pulsing with faint white light.
"Control the center," said Elijah, voice low but calm. "Row E. If we hold it, we dictate the game."
The briefing had begun with no preamble. No ceremony. Just the hush of sliding doors and the quiet arrival of the Official—white-masked and wordless. He tapped the board, and the terrain expanded.
Four quadrants.
Four hazards.
Four Revitalize Serums.
"Each quadrant contains a Revitalize point," said Sora, stepping into the center. Her fingers hovered just above the grid. "They aren't terrain boosts—they're bio-serums. Meant to heal wounds, stabilize strain, and suppress mutation degradation."
Wren frowned. "Only one per quadrant?"
Sora nodded. "Yes. Hidden. Teams usually fight to secure them early. If they're not used, they can be stored—but exposure is temporary. One dose. No repeats."
"If we get there second," Thorne muttered, "it's gone."
Vera crossed her arms. "Exactly. Which is why we move fast."
She pointed to the Ember Wastes—their drop zone.
The projection shifted. Ember Wastes unfolded in brutal color: scorched terrain split by molten rivers, obsidian cliffs that cracked and reformed like breathing wounds. Smoke spiraled from hidden vents. Some tiles quaked in short bursts, warning of collapses. Lava flowed beneath cracked stone like veins of fire.
"Heat and strain will be high," Vera said. "The Revitalize there likely helps with internal burn resistance and biofeedback. Our combat pieces—Knights and Rooks—will need it most."
Elijah gestured toward the center row again. "After we secure the serum, we push to Row E. If we hold the center, we can intercept, pressure, and divide the opposing team. That's where this game turns."
"You think they'll meet us there?" Cael asked.
Elijah's expression didn't shift. "They have to. Eventually, every match passes through the center. It's just a question of who breaks first."
A hiss came from the wall. A side panel slid open with mechanical precision, revealing a row of narrow black cases. Inside each, a thin wristband waited—dark alloy wrapped in translucent resin, veins of red circuitry spiraling outward like a living circuit.
"Step forward," said the Drillmaster, who had remained silent until now.
One by one, they obeyed.
Cael slipped his wrist through the band. It hissed once, sealed tight, then pulsed faintly—syncing. It was warm. Alive. The screen blinked once:
UNIT 874A | STATUS: ACTIVETEAM: BLACKPIECE: PAWN | ♙EMERGENCY RECALL: KING ONLY
"What's that last one?" Cael asked, rotating his wrist.
"Failsafe teleport," said Rune. "You activate it, and it sends you to the King's location. Costs a massive drain on your vitals, but it'll keep you alive."
"Only usable once," Vera added. "Use it wrong, and it's gone."
A weight settled in Cael's gut. The band felt heavier now. Not just tech. A tether.
Another ping. The board rotated slightly, showing red tiles pulsing near the corners.
"Enemy spawn points," Elara said, speaking for the first time since the meeting began. Her voice was tight. Controlled. "Assume they'll move fast. They're like us. Trained. Enhanced."
She didn't mention what she had to endure to become a Knight.
She didn't have to.
Elijah turned. Faced them fully.
"Our objectives are clear," he said. "One: locate and secure the Revitalize Serum in Ember Wastes before the enemy. Two: stabilize our formation and await Bishop Sora's read of terrain shifts. Three: secure and maintain control over Row E."
"And after that?" Cael asked.
Elijah's gaze didn't waver. "Then we press."
The room eventually emptied.
Some drifted toward the armory. Others toward their bunks. But Cael stayed behind, watching the board fade into idle flicker.
He traced the shape of Ember Wastes with his eyes—remembering the projection, the veins of lava, the unstable ridges, the crumbling bridges of black stone. Places where one wrong step meant vanishing forever.
He remembered heat.
He remembered her.
Three days before the Harvest, the sky had gone orange.
Not from sunset. From smoke.
They'd hidden beneath the broken support beams of the old market—the ones scorched out during the last ration riot. Lia had been trying to repair her coat with a needle duller than her patience. She cursed under her breath, and Cael laughed.
She didn't.
"If they take you," she said suddenly, without looking up, "and I'm still here... where do I go?"
Cael blinked. "You won't be. We'll both run."
"But if."
She finally looked at him then. Eyes sharp, a little wild. But underneath: fear. A fear she rarely let show.
He thought for a moment. Then nodded toward the old rail line.
"Follow the spine," he said. "Past the broken trains. Past the old water plant. You'll find a junction with a rusted blue sign. Cross under it. There's a drop tunnel just after."
"The one with the weird smell?"
"Yeah. Smells like mushrooms and burnt copper. Follow it until you hear the vents. My friend Brec lives there. Still. He owes me. He'll hide you."
Lia was quiet.
Then she nodded once. Like she'd already memorized every step.
"He better be tall," she said.
Cael grinned. "He's a giant. Total idiot. But kind."
"Good. I'll punch him if he's not."
Now, in the war room's silence, Cael let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
She would make it.
She had to.
Because if she did—then so would he.
A soft chime broke the silence. One last update scrolled across the display.
ARENA SYNC COMPLETEMATCH START IN T-MINUS: 14 HOURS
He touched the edge of the wristband. The glow matched his pulse.
It was almost time.
But for now—just this once—the board was quiet.