The next morning broke quietly over New Argentum.
Mist clung to the peaks, a silver veil rolling down from the snow-tipped mountains, and the Crucible slept in stillness. The training fields hadn’t activated yet. No drills, no bots, no students.
But Troy was already there.
He stood alone in the Crucible’s command center, leaning back in a swivel chair, arms crossed behind his head. A half-eaten protein bar sat on the console beside him, untouched for nearly ten minutes.
Boredom, mostly, had brought him in early. That and the subtle gnaw of curiosity.
With a sigh, he flicked through the security feeds.
Empty field.
Empty corridor.
Dormitories quiet.
A flicker.
Troy narrowed his eyes and paused the feed. He rewound, tapped a key, then leaned forward as the video sharpened.
There at dusk yesterday. Training Field Sigma.
Two figures.
His daughter.
And his father.