Chapter 39: Echoes of Battle
The battlefield lay in eerie silence. The dust settled, the debris stopped shifting, and the echoes of clashing fists faded into nothing. Every recruit, every spectator, stood frozen, the sheer weight of the confrontation lingering in the air. Axel and Cyrus remained at the center of it all, their bodies bruised and exhausted, breathing ragged but unbroken.
Commander Rourke stepped forward, his presence commanding as his cold gaze swept across the ruined arena. His voice, steady and authoritative, cut through the silence.
**"Victory belongs to Axel's team—but what you saw here today should serve as a lesson to all of you. Strength alone does not secure victory. It is control, strategy, and the ability to see beyond raw power that turns the tide of battle. Recklessness leads to downfall. Let this be a reminder that brute force without precision will cost you everything. In real combat, there are no second chances."**
His words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. Cyrus, still kneeling, clenched his fists, his breathing strained as the weight of his defeat pressed against him.
Rourke's sharp gaze flicked between Axel and Cyrus before he took a step back. **"Both of you—once you've healed, report to my office."** His tone left no room for argument, and without another word, he turned, his coat swaying as he strode away.
The tension remained thick as recruits hesitated, unsure whether to approach Axel or Cyrus. Then, slowly, they began dispersing, murmurs rippling through the crowd.
---
The scene shifted to Cyrus, who remained on his knees, his breath heavy, his body trembling. His strength had left him completely, drained from the sheer exertion of his ability. His fingers dug into the dirt before his hands slowly rose to cover his face. A deep, ragged breath shuddered through him.
**"Why…"** His voice barely carried above a whisper.
His fingers tightened against his face, the frustration clawing at his chest, burning in his throat. **"I did everything. I pushed myself farther than ever before. I fought like hell. But it still—wasn't—enough."**
He let out a sharp, shaky exhale, bitterness laced in his voice. **"What was the point? What was all of it for, if I still—lost?"**
His mind raced, replaying every mistake, every moment Axel had outmaneuvered him. It wasn't just about losing. It was the realization that despite all his efforts, all his rage, he had still fallen short. He had come this far, only to feel the crushing weight of failure settle into his bones.
**"I wanted to beat him. That's all I wanted. But it wasn't enough."**
His hands slid from his face as he stared blankly at the ground, regret and resentment swirling within him like a storm he couldn't quell.
---
Axel staggered toward his teammates, his steps unsteady, his body aching with every movement. His breaths came slow, measured, his mind still caught in the storm of his duel. But even as exhaustion weighed on him, his thoughts remained fixed on Cyrus.
**"Did he take it?"** The question gnawed at him.
He had seen the signs—the way Cyrus had fought beyond his limits, his unnatural bursts of strength, his overwhelming aggression. It wasn't normal. Axel had known Cyrus for long enough to recognize that something had changed.
His amber eyes darkened slightly, uncertainty creeping into his expression. **"Was that really just his rage? Or did he take the red vial?"**
The thought unsettled him, but there was no way to know—not yet. He needed answers. And soon.
By the time Axel reached his team, they were already exchanging victorious words, the tension giving way to relief.
**"We won,"** Ava breathed, a grin tugging at her lips despite her exhaustion.
Atlas smirked, clapping her shoulder. **"Hell yeah, we did."**
Lila leaned against a broken barrier, her rifle slung over her shoulder. **"That was brutal."**
Eli chuckled, rubbing his neck. **"Brutal, but worth it. We pulled through."**
Despite their words, Axel remained silent. The group turned to him, sensing the weight in his expression.
Kaid spoke first, his voice quieter, more thoughtful. **"What's on your mind, Axel?"**
Axel exhaled slowly, running a hand through his damp hair before finally speaking. **"Cyrus."**
The atmosphere shifted, the team exchanging glances before refocusing on Axel.
**"He wasn't just fighting to win,"** Axel said, his voice carrying the weight of realization. **"He was fighting like it was the only thing that mattered."**
Ava frowned slightly, crossing her arms. **"He's always been intense, but that—was different."**
Atlas nodded, his expression grim. **"He burned through himself. Like he had no limit."**
Axel's amber eyes flickered with unspoken thoughts. **"Exactly. And that's what worries me."**
The silence stretched for a moment before Kaid spoke again. **"And the Commander? What do you think that meeting's about?"**
Axel sighed, shaking his head. **"Guess we'll find out soon enough."**
---
Later, in their shared quarters, the team sat together, wounds treated, bodies exhausted, but minds still sharp with lingering thoughts.
Lila leaned back against the wall. **"Cyrus isn't going to let this go. Not after today."**
Eli glanced at Axel. **"Are you worried?"**
Axel hesitated before replying. **"Not worried. Just… curious. About what drove him to fight like that."**
Atlas crossed his arms. **"And about what Rourke wants with the both of you?"**
Axel nodded. **"That too."**
The room fell into quiet contemplation, each recruit lost in thought.
---
In the opposite quarters, Cyrus stood before his teammates, every movement heavy with exhaustion. His voice was quiet, strained.
**"I failed."** His fists clenched. "I came this far, pushed myself beyond everything—and it still wasn't enough."
Sigma's recruits exchanged looks, but **021** spoke first. "Cyrus… you don't have to carry this alone."
Cyrus exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I wanted to win. I wanted to beat Axel. That's all I cared about." His gaze dropped, frustration evident. "But it wasn't enough."
A lingering silence stretched before **045** finally sighed. "Then next time, we train harder. Smarter. And you don't fight like your life depends on it."
Cyrus let out a slow breath, his exhaustion weighing him down. "Next time…"
---
In a quiet corridor, Commander Rourke and Victoria stood in hushed conversation, their expressions unreadable.
Victoria's sharp gaze flicked toward Rourke. "Have they already taken the red vial?"
Rourke smirked faintly, his gaze distant. "That's what we're going to find out."