Rhea found himself stranded inside a military barracks near Sector Zero, dragged in alongside dozens of others captured that night.
The air reeked of iron, sweat, and mud. Torchlight cast long, wavering shadows across the wooden walls.
How did it end up like this… in a place like this? he muttered inwardly.
His hands were shackled. His weapon—gone. Fighting back was no longer an option.
Dozens of people sat in lines across the yard, called one by one into the interrogation room.
"You!"
A soldier pointed straight at Rhea.
He stood, shackles clinking softly, and followed the soldier into a narrow room. Inside stood a single wooden table, two chairs, and a guard seated at the far end.
"Sit," the guard ordered. His name was Swan.
With no room to resist, Rhea obeyed.
"Name?"
"Rhea. Rhea Saschie."
Swan frowned, lingering far too long over the name.
"Your name isn't listed among Aurelia's residents," he said.
"I'm a wanderer, sir," Rhea replied calmly.
"Then where are you from? And why did Captain Yanesh arrest you?" Swan asked, clearly confused.
He glanced at the guard by the door, but the man only shrugged.
Rhea exhaled. "Hah… probably because I got involved in the Rat Pit arena."
"…I needed money. To continue my journey to the Capital."
Swan repeated the question. "Where are you from?"
"The southern desert continent. Sanhara village," Rhea answered without hesitation.
Swan glanced at his colleague again before pulling open a drawer and retrieving a map.
—Sruuuk
The world map spread across the interrogation table.
"Listen, kid—" Swan began.
Rhea's eyes sharpened. "My name is Rhea."
"Yes, I mean—Rhea. Listen…"
"The village you mentioned lies on the southern continent. Far from this kingdom. To be honest, I barely believe life could exist there."
Swan continued explaining as he pointed at the map.
"I already told you I'm a wanderer," Rhea said evenly. "I've been through many things, sir. I came here seeking a peaceful place to live. Other travelers said Aurelia accepts outsiders…"
"…that's why I came. But I ended up in the Rat Pit instead."
Swan rolled the map back up and slid it into the drawer before looking at Rhea again.
"Rhea…"
"…Aurelia did accept outsiders once," he said quietly.
"But that was before the current king took power. Sector Zero—the place you stayed in—is being purged. That city is a nest of lawbreakers."
Rhea felt confused, yet oddly validated about the corruption he'd sensed. The two men stared at each other in silence.
Swan thought of the law.
Rhea thought of his sword—lost during the raid.
That was my last possession… he lamented silently. Swan stood and left the room, leaving one guard behind.
"Wait here," he said before hurrying off.
Half an hour passed. Swan didn't return. Rhea grew restless. The guard by the door hadn't moved an inch.
"Um, sir… may I have some water?" Rhea asked politely.
The guard finally spoke.
"Drink your own piss," he spat coldly.
The words pierced deep. Rhea fell silent.
Moments later, footsteps echoed down the hall. Swan returned—this time with Captain Yanesh.
"Oh?" Yanesh smirked faintly. "So this is the desert brat."
He looked at Rhea like an interesting commodity.
"Your name's Rhea, right? Come with me."
Yanesh turned to Swan. "Remove his shackles."
The iron cuffs fell away. Rhea's wrists felt light—but his instincts tightened. He followed Yanesh out as the interrogation room door closed softly behind him.
Yanesh walked ahead, his steps firm and measured, as though every path was memorized.
The sword in his hand glimmered faintly, reflecting moonlight slipping between the barracks.
Rhea followed behind, hands free—yet feeling more restrained than ever. They left the main barracks, moving along a rarely used stone path.
The night air grew colder. After about half a kilometer, they stopped before an old iron door embedded in the ground.
No guards. Yanesh pushed it open without warning.
~Kreettt
The hinges groaned, revealing stone stairs descending into the earth.
Rhea swallowed.
They descended. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became—stale, damp, reeking of iron, sweat, and something long deprived of sunlight.
Small torches lined the walls, their weak flames unable to banish the shadows.
At the end of the stairs lay a chamber.
Several people were already there, seated against the wet stone walls.
Some bowed their heads. Some stared into nothingness. Others watched with sharp, predatory eyes.
Rhea recognized her immediately. The silver-haired girl.
She sat apart, posture straight, hands resting calmly on her thighs. Far too calm for someone freshly captured.
"That girl…" Rhea thought.
Their gazes met. No smiles. No gestures. Just a silent acknowledgment—you're here too.
Yanesh stepped inside, his voice echoing.
"Sit."
A short command. No explanation. Rhea obeyed, his back pressed against the cold stone.
Only then did he realize—not one person in this room looked like an ordinary prisoner.
"You're the last one, Rhea." Yanesh's voice carried. The others glanced briefly.
"All of you are being considered for a covert operation."
Rhea's eyes widened.
"An operation? What is this? I'm not even from this kingdom!"
He interrupted before Yanesh could continue.
"Hm. Listen, desert brat. I'm not finished."
The sharpness in Yanesh's voice, mixed with the damp air, forced Rhea to restrain himself.
"Eight criminals, and two survivors—or outsiders. You will work for the kingdom." Rhea listened, occasionally glancing at Ilya.
"Your survival rate will be low. Meaning—even in death, you'll still be useful."
"Hold on. Are you serious?" Rhea stood up.
—SRIINGG
Steel sang.
A sword tip stopped less than a finger's breadth from his throat—cold and lethal.
From the shadows, another guard stepped forward. When had he been there? Rhea didn't know.
Sweat trickled down his temple—not from fear, but from realizing his miscalculation.
Rhea slowly raised his hands and sat back down. The stone felt colder than before.
"Please continue, sir…"
"Relax, boy. For you, I'll offer a reward. You're not a criminal, after all. I only need your strength."
Yanesh smiled thinly.
"I know you're reliable—foreigner from Sanhara."
The others—including Ilya—turned sharply toward Rhea. Some whispered, as if hearing an old legend.
"For the past few years," Yanesh continued, pacing slowly, "the kingdom has been in a state of emergency."
"A mage cult calling themselves Fracture strikes without pattern—killing, burning, erasing border villages."
His gaze swept across the room.
"Magic is their weapon. And like all weapons, it leaves too many corpses." He paused.
"Our elite forces are too valuable to be sent into death traps."
"So we created another unit."
"Filled with criminals sentenced to death… And foreign survivors," he added.
That night—without contracts or consent—Rhea became part of the kingdom's secret unit.
A unit tasked with eradicating terrorists. Rhea stared at Yanesh in disbelief.
But at the mention of rewards, he knew—he had no real choice.
If the mission is this dangerous, Rhea thought, the reward had better be worth it.