The girl Mara had fought two nights ago—slight, sharp-eyed, and carrying herself with the polite arrogance of someone born inside walls taller than most people's dreams—leaned against the outer rail of Outpost Vester's barracks.

Her name was Ellarine, though everyone who knew her called her Ella of Crownhold.

She waited with her arms folded, boot tapping lightly against the wooden planks.

Behind her, three soldiers in polished, dark-green uniforms filed in—Crownhold troops, each carrying the same lazy, self-sure posture.

When they reached her, one of them—a narrow-faced youth with cropped silver hair—grinned.

"You're all good," he said. "Didn't think you would be, after that little scuffle with the Grim Hollow girl."

Ella scoffed. "It wasn't a scuffle. She caught me off guard."

"Caught you?" The second Crownhold soldier laughed under his breath. "Ella, you're a mid-tier fledgling. Those Grim Hollow folk tend to collapse if you glare too hard."

"Grim Hollow," the third muttered. "Place is practically a training camp for vagrants. A few scattered nobles, sure, but most of them are swamp-soaked commoners trying to look fierce."

Ella sighed. "They're not all that bad."

"Oh?" The silver-haired one raised a brow. "You defending them now?"

"I'm stating facts," she said, pushing off the railing. "The girl Mara hits hard. And their leader—he's… not what I expected."

"A private leading a squad?"

"Two men and a bunch of children."

"Crownhold wouldn't tolerate that nonsense."

Their laughter was mocking, but not cruel—just dismissive, the way nobles and their retainers laughed at something they didn't think could ever matter.

Ella watched Bright walk across the yard in the distance, surrounded by Duncan, Adam, Rolf, Baggen, and Mara. He moved with a kind of intent steadiness—focused, quiet, annoying in the way only someone competent could be.

She crossed her arms again.

"Mock them all you want. But the nobles sponsoring these Trials? They're watching everyone—including the outliers."

The silver-haired soldier shrugged. "Even fools earn applause when the crowd's bored enough."

Ella didn't answer. Her gaze stayed fixed on the retreating Sunshine Squad.

Sunshine Squad. Gods, what a stupid name.

Still Something about them didn't sit right.

They were neither weak nor strong.

Just… off.

She watched as they passed beyond Vester's east gate, heading toward the perimeter.

She wondered how many would come back.

…

The fog thinned as Bright and his squad moved past Vester's outer wall. Beyond the fortified perimeter, the land dipped into soft ridges and tall, rustling weeds. The Shroud drifted in faint ribbons—thin enough to see through, thick enough to taste its metallic sting in the air.

Adam led the way for a short while, flipping open a folded map he'd somehow procured.

Which meant he had bribed someone.

Which meant that someone had already regretted it.

Rolf leaned in to peer at the map. "Where'd you steal that?"

Adam puffed indignantly. "I didn't steal anything. I borrowed it from a friend."

"Borrowed?" Rolf repeated. "When are you returning it?"

Adam shrugged. "Depends on whether he lives long enough to ask for it back."

Mara snorted.

Bright took the map and studied it carefully. "Explain."

Adam pointed at a red-circled region eastward. "Stable Shroud zone. Cave system underneath. Multiple teams have already gone in. No losses. Some injuries. Nothing major. It's one of the few reliable danger zones close enough that we won't die, but dangerous enough that we can test ourselves."

Baggen scratched his jaw. "You sure the info is solid?"

Adam smirked. "I'm silky, not suicidal."

"Which means?" Duncan asked.

"Which means my sleepers—if they're awake—would've told me if anything changed."

Duncan raised a brow. "Sleepers? You have people placed in Vester?"

"Not placed," Adam corrected. "Encouraged. Nudged. You know. Whispered in a few ears."

Baggen muttered, "We're going to prison one day because of you."

Bright folded the map. "Enough. We're heading there. No need for distractions."

The team adjusted formation automatically.

…

Bright moved ahead of the group, the natural scout and vanguard cutting a path through the dark.

Duncan trailed a step behind, spear reach sweeping the front and both flanks. Bone Guard shimmered faintly across his frame—defensive insurance for the entire squad, letting him tank hits none of the others could survive.

Adam and Mara held the center of the formation—one providing ranged pressure with his firearm as his cognition ability and Intelligence made him perfect marksman with his aim, the other closing gaps with the blades she'd only recently begun to master.

Rolf and Baggen held the rear. Rolf covered them with long-range casting, while Baggen anchored the formation with his crowd-control abilities.

The movement was fluid enough to show their growth, but rough enough that they still stepped on each other's shadows from time to time.

Adam kicked a loose stone. "This formation would be perfect if Mr.Rolf didn't stomp like an ogre."

Rolf grunted. "I stomp because it terrifies things, the things we're about to hunt should fear us not the other way around."

"It terrifies me," Mara said.

"Good," Rolf growled.

Bright pointed ahead. "Focus. We're close."

…

The Shroud thickened into a ghostly curtain stretching across the entrance of a shallow ravine. Through the milky haze, the team saw the jagged mouth of a cave—dark, wide, and humming with a low, unnatural resonance.

Duncan exhaled slowly. "This is stable?"

Adam nodded. "As stable as a Shroud gets."

Bright stepped closer, extending his spatial sense forward like a thin web as he recalled the last time he stepped into a shroud. The outlines of stone, pockets of air, and twisting tunnels flickered in his perception.

"A few pathways. One main route. Something's moving deeper in."

"Crawlers?" Mara asked, hand already on her blades.

"Probably," Bright answered. "Small ones. Not a cluster."

Rolf cracked his knuckles. "Perfect warm-up."

Bright felt the pulse of the Shroud pressing against his skin—thick but not hostile, like a heavy fog after rain. The cave was damp, cold, echoing with distant water.

Adam lit a small lumen shard, its pale glow bouncing off wet stone.

"Alright. Sunshine Squad—first official run. Let's not humiliate ourselves."

Duncan elbowed him. "You always say that."

"I mean it every time."

They stepped further into the cave.

And the Shroud swallowed them.

…

The walls glistened with mineral deposits, reflecting ghost-light from the lumen shard. The air smelled metallic—like rust and wet stone—and beneath that, the faint sour scent of crawler musk.

Their boots scuffed softly on the ground, echoing weirdly. The Shroud inside the cave clung thicker than outside, pooling in dips and corners, swirling in slow spirals.

Bright raised a fist—stopping the squad.

He pointed silently at a branching path up ahead.

"Tracks," Duncan whispered. "Small ones."

Adam crouched, inspecting the faint claw marks. "Fresh. Less than an hour old."

Baggen's voice was low. "Then they're still nearby."

Rolf drew his blade. "Good."

Adam sighed. "Can you stop sounding excited?"

"No."

Bright signaled them forward.

…

The first crawler lunged from the ceiling—dropping with a soft chitter, mandibles clicking. Bright's spatial sense flashed. He ducked, blade flicking upward, slashing across its underbelly.

It crashed to the ground with a wet crunch.

Before it could finish shrieking, Duncan's spear pinned it into the floor.

Three more scrambled from the shadows.

Baggen took two steps forward, shield braced. "Brace!"

The creatures slammed into him—skittering, hissing—but he held. Rolf swept in from behind, cleaving one cleanly in half.

Adam fired a burst of light-shot, searing through another's skull.

Mara darted in and severed the last crawler's spine with a crisp, surgical strike.

Silence followed.

Then Duncan let out a soft breath. "That felt… coordinated."

Rolf shrugged. "We didn't die. That's improvement."

Bright wiped crawler residue off his blade. "Deeper. That was nothing. These caves have heavier hitters."

Baggen nodded. "And the deeper we go, the more the Shroud thickens."

Adam looked around. "Good. We'll need the practice."

Mara cracked her neck. "I'm just hoping no other squads are ahead of us."

"Why?" Baggen asked.

"Because I don't want to be down here with no supervision with the vester soldiers roaming "

Adam laughed. "friends of yours ? Please. If they get lost in here, we might trip over their bones."

Bright kept moving.

But something gnawed at him.

Something subtle.

Something wrong.

The Shroud was… moving ahead.

Not swirling.

Moving.

As if drawn by something deeper inside the cave.

His spatial foresight could never be wrong.

Duncan frowned. "Bright? You see something?"

Bright's eyes narrowed. "The Shroud's shifting. Something large is deeper in."

Adam blinked. "Large like… one big crawler?"

"No," Bright said. "Large like… a pack."

Rolf lifted his blade. "About time."

Baggen groaned. "Just when I said today was going smoothly."

Bright felt the pressure through his spatial sense—heavier now, pulsing like a weak heartbeat echoing through stone.

He turned to his squad.

"No matter what's ahead," he said, voice steady, "we stay in formation. We don't scatter. We don't panic. We move as one."

Duncan spun his spear and anchored his stance.

"Ready."

Mara's gaze sharpened.

"Ready."

Adam adjusted his gun.

"Turn back now and I'll haunt you all," he muttered.

Baggen steadied his hammer.

"Let's get it done."

Rolf cracked his neck loudly.

"If we die, I'm blaming the fucking kids."

"I accept that," Adam replied instantly.

Bright faced the darkness.

"Sunshine Squad," he murmured. "Move."

Yeah… truly an atrocious name.

And together, they entered the deeper tunnel—toward whatever the Shroud had been hiding from them.

Toward something waiting.

Something hungry.

Something that would test everything they had just begun building.

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