Chapter 10 - The War on Silence

The next morning, I entered the training grounds with fire in my eyes. Today was silent drills again, and I was ready. Ready to find every loophole, every tiny crack in the oppressive wall of silence Elren had built around me.

"Silent drills," he said, as expected.

"Of course," I muttered, accepting the training blade he handed me.

"Focus on precision."

"Yes, sir."

The drill began, and so did my rebellion.

Okay, Ava. If you can't talk, you can hum. That's not talking, right? Humming is sound. Sound isn't words. That's a legal loophole.

I started humming the most annoyingly catchy tune I could remember. Elren's eye twitched. Barely. But I saw it.

Oh, I've got you now.

I hummed louder as I stepped, swung, blocked, and rotated. The melody bounced off the walls, a rhythmic taunt.

Tap.

Reset.

I started again, this time humming a dramatic battle theme. Louder. I even added a little bounce to my footwork just to really sell it.

Tap.

Reset.

Fine. Humming doesn't bother him? I'll escalate.

I began whispering to myself—not words, just sound effects.

"Pew, pew, swoosh, bam!"

Tap.

Reset.

"Whoosh, pew, dodge, ah!"

Tap.

"I'm still within the rules!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No talking."

"I'm sound-effecting."

"Same."

"Objection!"

Tap.

Okay, he's serious. Time for Plan C.

I started tapping the rhythm of my internal commentary on the hilt of the sword. Just enough to annoy him, but not enough to be classified as verbal.

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap.

Elren glared at me, but he didn't say anything.

Victory. Temporary.

The hours dragged on, and I switched tactics every few minutes: humming, sound effects, tapping, even expressive breathing. Anything but silence.

I caught him sighing. I caught him pausing just a little too long between corrections.

I am winning. Slowly. Beautifully. He cannot break me. I am the verbal storm, and I will erode his patience one syllable at a time.

Finally, during a reset, I let out the longest, most exaggerated sigh in history.

"Haaaaaaah."

Elren's eye twitched again. "Silent."

"That was breathing."

"Control it."

"You're reaching now."

"Focus."

"I'm focused on breathing artistically."

"Silence."

"Freedom of expression."

Tap.

Reset.

The war continued. And I loved every second of it.

By the time we finished, I was soaked in sweat but grinning like I'd just conquered an empire.

"You look tired."

"You look annoyed."

"Efficient."

"You keep telling yourself that."

Back at the apartment, I collapsed on the couch and dramatically held Gloria the coffee machine like she was my only friend.

"Gloria, he's a tyrant. He doesn't respect our freedom. He doesn't respect artistry. He just wants to silence the voices of the people."

Elren, standing nearby, stirred his coffee with that same perfect neutrality.

"She's not listening."

"Oh, but she is. Gloria hears me. She knows my struggle."

"Your struggle is self-inflicted."

"Your oppressive silence is self-inflicted."

"Tomorrow, silent weapon forms."

"Oh, I can't wait."

"Bring the same energy."

"I will."

I sipped my coffee, plotting my next move.

Okay, Ava, he's adapting to the sound effects and the humming. Time to prepare advanced tactics. Next level: interpretive movement, aggressive blinking, maybe semaphore. I will not be silenced.

The next morning, I was ready.

Elren met me at the grounds with his usual poker face.

"Silent weapon forms."

"Bring it."

I started the drills, immediately adding dramatic flourishes to every movement.

Okay, dramatic spin here. Elegant foot tap there. Maybe a little shoulder roll… oh yeah, now we're dancing.

I began humming again, this time classical overtures. Then battle music. Then a medley of childhood jingles that refused to leave my memory.

Elren gave me a long stare. "Silent."

"Expressive."

Tap.

"Fine. But I have questions."

"Focus."

"Do Graves ever respond to sound? Like, can I weaponize my voice?"

"No."

"That sounds like a challenge."

Tap.

"Does the system have a sound-based anomaly registry?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Focus."

"Do you ever dream?"

"Irrelevant."

"Do you dream of peace and quiet? Because I'm here to ruin that."

Tap.

I kept going, never stopping, filling the silence with as much sound as I could without fully breaking the rules.

"Elren, do you think Gloria misses me when I'm not there?"

"No."

"Do you think Gloria secretly likes you more?"

"No."

"Do you think she's jealous of your stoicism?"

"You're projecting."

"Maybe."

The drills continued. I was exhausted, but I would not be silenced.

"What's your biggest fear?"

"You."

"Wow. High praise."

Tap.

"That wasn't a mistake!"

"Reset."

"You're doing this on purpose."

"Correct."

We pushed through the afternoon until Elren finally called a break. I collapsed, sprawled on the floor, arms wide, victorious.

"I'm still standing. Well, laying. But still."

"You're still talking."

"You're still listening."

"Unfortunately."

"You secretly enjoy this."

"Incorrect."

"I'll crack you one day."

"Unlikely."

"Challenge accepted."

We walked back to the apartment in silence, but this time it was a companionable silence. Like we both understood this was our dynamic now—the war of words and sighs.

As I brewed coffee, I glanced at him. "Elren, do you ever wonder why I'm here? Like, really here? Why I got pulled into this world?"

"Sometimes."

"Think I'll ever find out?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly? That's your most generous answer yet."

"Enjoy it."

"I will."

I handed him his coffee.

"Tomorrow, more silent drills?"

"No."

I blinked. "No?"

"Field observation."

"We're leaving Central?"

"Yes."

"Finally!"

"Don't get excited."

"Too late."

Out in the real world, more people to annoy, more things to see, more ways to survive. I'm ready. Let's go.