In one of the quiet dical rooms of the selection area infirmary, Elizabeth lay motionless on the white hospital bed. Her skin was pale—unnaturally so—and her once-raven black hair remained a snowy white, draped over the pillow like a fragile veil. The room was dim, lit only by a soft overhead light, casting long shadows across the tiles.
Leon sat beside her, hunched over on a stool, his elbows resting on his knees. He hadn’t moved in a while. His hands were clasped tightly around Elizabeth’s, the one attached to an IV line that trickled a steady drip into her veins.
His mind replayed the healer’s words like a curse.
"Physically, she’s perfectly fine and we can’t find anything wrong."
Leon had nearly lost it then.
He’d shot up from his seat, his voice laced with fury. "How the hell does that look fine to you?" He had pointed toward Elizabeth who looked so frail and far from fine. "If you don’t know what you’re doing, go find soone who does. I don’t want another excuse—I want her awake."
It had taken the arrival of another healer who was older and more experienced, with the kind of calm that ca from years on battlefields and warzones—to settle Leon down.
"She’s not in danger," the second healer had said gently. "Her condition seems to be the result of extre spiritual exhaustion. She just needs rest and in ti, she’ll recover."
Only then had Leon sat back down, fists unclenching. But the guilt hadn’t left.
Now, as he held her hand in silence, he whispered, "Lizzie... I’m so sorry."
His voice was low, nearly a breath. "If I had been just a little stronger... maybe you wouldn’t be like this. Maybe I could’ve protected you better."
He gently squeezed her hand, hoping for a reaction—anything.
Adrian had already gone. He’d volunteered to make the report to the Federation officials first, recognizing that Leon needed ti. Ti alone. Ti to break.
The room stayed quiet for a while longer until the door creaked open behind him.
As he heard footsteps.
Leon didn’t look back. His voice was quiet, strained. "Just give five more minutes..."
But the voice that answered was firm, cool and Unyielding.
"No, Cadet," said Vanguard Rebecca Sky. "I’ve already given you enough ti. We need to talk. Now."
Leon exhaled sharply. He didn’t argue as he stood slowly, every motion heavy, as though exhaustion had sunk into his bones.
He turned to Elizabeth one last ti, brushing her pale hair from her face. "Don’t worry, Lizzie... I’ll be back."
Then he faced the Vanguard. Gone was the tenderness. Gone was the sadness. His eyes were now cold—hardened. The mask was back on.
"Let’s talk," he said flatly.
Rebecca nodded once and led him out.
****
The office was spacious but not extravagant, designed with practical military efficiency in mind. Steel filing cabinets lined the walls, alongside frad maps and data screens showing various regional activity.
A low hum of electricity filled the room, punctuated only by the steady tick of a wall clock. In the center, a polished mahogany desk stood like a command post, and behind it sat Vanguard Rebecca Sky.
She was clad in her uniform—sleek, black-blue armor lined with silver trim—and her piercing blue eyes scanned Leon from head to toe with the intensity of a seasoned predator assessing a threat... or an asset.
"So," she began, voice sharp but controlled, "the reason you’re alive is because of Cadet Elizabeth’s talent?"
Leon didn’t flinch. He simply nodded once, keeping his expression blank, his posture firm.
But in his mind, guilt twisted like a knife.
’I’m sorry, Elizabeth.’
He didn’t like dragging her na into a lie, but what other option did he have? If he told the truth—that he had pumped a million points into his vitality and watched it vanish afterward—it would sound absurd if not ridiculous. After all this was not fantasy but real life and she’d probably think he was insane.
No one would believe the true extent of his EX-rank talent.
The Vanguard continued to stare at him, unblinking, as if peeling back layers.
Then, with an almost casual tone, she asked, "In Cadet Adrian’s report, he said you took down a Cerberus. Did Elizabeth also help with that?"
Internally, Leon froze. ’What the fuck, Adrian?’
Sowhere down a different hall, Adrian Peer sneezed violently, completely unaware of the chaos his words had unleashed. Trial takers rarely caught colds, which made it all the more suspicious.
Back in the office, Leon’s mind scrambled for an explanation. Seconds passed like minutes, each one stretching the silence. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and said with a shrug,
"I guess I’m stronger than I look."
The Vanguard didn’t respond. She simply stared.
Leon didn’t give in as he stared back as well.
It was like a silent battle—one of wills, of masks, of truths left unspoken.
Leon didn’t want to hide his strength. He just wanted to hide the way he got it. So he gambled. She had asked how he defeated the Cerberus, not why he was strong. He had given her a vague answer and prayed the stars would carry the rest.
After a mont, Rebecca Sky’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
"Good answer."
Leon blinked, just once, keeping his expression flat but inwardly, he sighed in relief.
He expected this. After all, there was one thing he was sure of about Rebecca Sky after seeing her for the first ti.
She had a soft spot for the strong.
She stood from behind her desk, her presence commanding as she walked around it, boots clicking softly against the floor. She ca to stand before him, eting his gaze directly.
"Join my base," she said, her tone leaving no room for refusal. It was an invitation, yes but one that carried the weight of an order. One that hinted: I see what you’re hiding. I respect it. And I want it in my ranks.
Leon’s eyes narrowed just a bit.
He didn’t smile, but he didn’t say no either.
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