The forest stank of rain and smoke.
Ares crouched at the edge of the ridge, the damp earth sinking beneath his boots. Below, a Grounder work camp sprawled across the clearing—dozens of crude cages, a blacksmith pit glowing red, and a perimeter of sharpened logs. Smoke drifted lazily from the central fire.
Not a prison for Ark survivors.
A prison for Grounders themselves.
Kael knelt beside him, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "They chain their own."
Ares didn't answer. He could see it—Trikru soldiers guarding half-starved captives from rival clans. A mobile fortress run by a single commander whose banners marked the trees: three slashes of white paint and a single black sun.
He'd seen that mark before.
Clarke's voice whispered over the radio crystal Raven had left half-functioning in his tent. "You're near Sector 4-D. No signs of movement topside."
"Good," Ares replied. "We move in five."
He cut the connection and looked back at Octavia. "Flank right. Wait for my signal."
She nodded, vanishing into the mist like a ghost.
Miller and Monroe readied their spears. Kael cracked his knuckles.
And Ares stood, stretching the stiffness from his neck.
SYSTEM NOTICE:
Engagement Opportunity Identified
Objective: Liberate or conquer Grounder internment camp.
Projected Resistance: Moderate (20 combatants).
Secondary Objective: Identify commanding officer.
He smiled faintly. "Time to break the chain."
They moved fast.
Kael hit the northern wall first—ripping a log free like it was paper.
Monroe and Miller rushed the southern cages, cutting prisoners loose before they could scream.
Ares strode through the center like he owned it.
The first Grounder lunged. Ares caught his blade mid-swing and snapped his neck in one motion. Another came from the side; Ares spun, elbow shattered ribs, then kicked him into the fire.
Screams erupted across the camp.
But before the panic spread too far, a voice cut through the chaos. Sharp. Commanding. Female.
"STOP!"
Ares froze mid-stride, eyes narrowing.
The soldiers hesitated.
And from the largest tent, Anya stepped out.
Tall. Armored in layered leather and bone. Hair braided with silver cords that marked her as a war captain. Blood streaked her cheek like war paint, but her posture was pure control.
Her gaze locked on Ares.
"You're the one they whisper about," she said. "The Sky King."
He tilted his head. "And you must be the one foolish enough to think cages make you strong."
She unsheathed her blade. "Strength is earned in blood. Let's see if you bleed like the rest."
SYSTEM ALERT:
Duel Triggered – Command Unit Detected.
Opponent: Anya kom Trikru
Strength: 14 | Agility: 13 | Constitution: 12
Threat Level: High
Reward: Leadership Capture / Loyalty Opportunity
The soldiers circled back, forming a loose ring. The freed prisoners watched, breathless, as two predators closed in.
The fight was quick. Brutal.
No wasted movement.
Anya struck first—a blur of steel and fury. Ares met her head-on, blocking with forearm and countering with a knee that would've broken another fighter's ribs. She twisted away, blade cutting across his coat, drawing a shallow line of red.
He smiled. "Good."
Her eyes flashed. "Better than you expected?"
"Not good enough."
He stepped in close—too close for her sword—and slammed a palm strike into her shoulder. She staggered. He grabbed her wrist, twisted, and flipped her over his hip. The earth cracked beneath her landing.
Before she could rise, his boot pressed against her throat.
Silence.
Every Grounder froze.
Every prisoner held their breath.
"Yield," he said.
Anya spat blood. "Never."
He pressed harder. "Then die."
She glared up at him—and laughed.
"Kill me and you make me a martyr. Spare me… and you make me yours."
Ares paused.
Then he lowered his foot.
"Then rise."
Minutes later, the camp belonged to him.
Anya stood beside the firepit, breathing heavy but unbroken. Her soldiers had disarmed themselves, awaiting her command. She gave none.
"You fight like no one I've met," she said. "No fear. No hesitation."
"That's why I win."
She studied him—really studied him.
"Lexa sent me to measure you."
"And?"
Anya's jaw tightened. "She'll see you as a threat."
"She should."
SYSTEM UPDATE:
Command Duel Complete – Victory Achieved
XP Gained: +2500
Level Up: 7 → 8
Attribute Points +3 | Skill Point +1
Unique Opportunity: "Blood of the Gods" Eligible Target – High-Value Commander
Compatibility: 92%
He met her eyes. "You have a choice. Keep serving someone who fears what you could become… or join me, and never kneel again."
Anya didn't reply.
But she didn't walk away.
By nightfall, the freed prisoners had scattered into the woods.
Kael piled the enemy weapons into heaps.
Octavia returned with a small device in hand—smoke-stained metal, still humming faintly.
"Found this near the southern ridge," she said. "Ark tech. Crashed module."
Ares took it.
A familiar voice crackled weakly through the static.
"—is anyone there? This is Raven Reyes… shuttle crash site near Sector 4-F… systems failing…"
Clarke's voice came through his earpiece instantly. "Ares, that's one of ours."
He stared at the dark horizon.
One war ended, another began.
"Send coordinates," he said. "We move at dawn."
SYSTEM LOG:
New Objective Added – "The Raven's Wing."
Rescue survivor before Grounders locate crash site.
Time limit: 18 hours.
Reward: Potential Bond Target. Strategic Tech Integration.
The flames from the camp rose high behind him.
Ares watched them curl into the sky like a crown of fire.
The chains were broken.
And the war was only beginning.