The smell hit them first.
Not the sharp tang of metal and ozone that marked every corridor of the G.A.M.B.I.T., or the faint antiseptic scent of medbays and cleaned training halls. This was different. Heavier. Warmer. A thick, layered mix of a hundred different cuisines trying to coexist in the same air: roasted something, spiced something else, tangy sauces, alien fruits, recaf, and more than a little grease.
Jake inhaled like he'd just discovered religion.
"Ohhhh, that's the smell of survival," he whispered.
Danny laughed despite the ache in his muscles. "It's just food, Jake."
"Food is NOT 'just' anything," Jake said solemnly. "Food is how I know I'm still alive."
They stepped through the open archway into the chow hall, and Danny understood.
The place was huge.
Tiered levels of seating rose in a semicircle around the main floor, each tier with rows of tables, benches, and bolted-down chairs. Multiple long serving counters occupied one wall, each marked with glowing signs written in three languages and a series of icons. Trays slid through dispenser lines. Steam rose from covered containers. A line of cooks and food-tech operators shouted orders and refills.
Cadets filled the hall—hundreds of them. Different species, different uniforms indicating specialized tracks. Some wore light pilot rigs, others heavier infantry armor, others still bore cloaks woven with reactive fibers.
Conversation buzzed in the air like a low electrical hum.
Then Danny, Swift, Jake, Shadeclaw, Jade, and Mira crossed the threshold.
The hum didn't stop.
It shifted.
Sound dimmed near the entrance as heads swiveled. Conversations dropped in volume, then rose again in strained whispers.
"That's them—"
"Tournament kids—"
"The Golden Dragon one—"
"Wolf assassin—"
"Street-fighter from Sector 9—"
"Look, that's the Bronze kid, the screaming one—"
"Is that Swift? He looks different—"
Danny felt eyes on him from all angles. Awe. Curiosity. Skepticism. Jealousy. A few outright glares.
His shoulders tensed.
Swift moved a little closer, his now fully human frame fitting naturally into the crowd. He still had the same aura—sharp and focused—but without scales and claws he blended more easily. His silver hair and eyes made him stand out anyway.
Shadeclaw walked as if he hadn't noticed a single stare. He probably had. He probably cataloged them all by scent and heartbeat.
Jade shoved his hands in his pockets and walked like he owned the place, hoodie hanging half-zipped under his cadet vest. The angle of his shoulders said, "Pick a fight. See what happens."
Mira tucked closer to Danny, calm on the outside but scanning the room with sharp, calculating eyes. She was always measuring.
Jake tried to look cool. Failed. Settled for looking vaguely important.
As they approached the nearest serving line, a few cadets instinctively stepped aside, leaving a clear path. It was subtle—like water parting around a stone—but Danny noticed it and immediately felt weird about it.
"We're not that special," he muttered.
Jake leaned over. "We're literally glowing dragon war-criminal-in-training special."
"We're not war criminals," Danny said.
"Yet," Shadeclaw noted.
"Not helping," Danny said.
The line moved.
When it was their turn, the dispenser scanned their wrist tags and spat portions onto trays. Food cubes for some species. Heaping dishes of protein and grains for others. Danny got something that looked like rice, smelled like roasted chicken, and tasted like spicy mystery. He decided not to ask.
They moved toward an empty section of table mid-level.
The moment they turned toward it, the cadets sitting there quickly gathered their trays and relocated without a word.
Jake grinned. "We FEAR them."
Danny groaned. "They fear you falling on them with your full weight."
"Rude," Jake said, but didn't deny it.
They sat.
Danny slid into place at the end of the bench, Swift on his right, Mira across from him. Jake took the far corner, immediately piling food into a precarious tower. Jade sprawled next to him with his tray tilted to one side. Shadeclaw sat slightly apart, on the edge, like he wasn't quite sure how to share space with others yet.
The initial silence was heavy.
Then the whispers started again.
"Look, that's him up close."
"He doesn't look like a god-eating monster."
"That's because he's in casual mode, idiot."
"Is that the guy who broke the Meatgrinder piston?"
"He melted a drone yesterday, I saw it."
"No, that was the Golden one."
"Which one's which?"
A pair of cadets approached.
They were young—probably only a year into their training. One was feline, with tawny fur and a pattern of dark stripes across her face, her ears flicking nervously. The other was a crystalline being, angular facets glowing faintly from within, hovering half an inch off the floor.
"Um…" the feline cadet said. "Hi."
Danny looked up. "Hi."
Jake gave them a double-finger point. "Fans."
Jade elbowed him in the ribs.
The crystalline cadet bobbed in place anxiously. "We, um… we watched the tournament broadcasts. You guys were… incredible. I mean, I've never seen someone use chi like that." They looked at Jade. "And your transformation." They glanced at Danny. "And shadow movement." Shadeclaw. "And you." To Swift. "Half-dragon forms. And Mira. You're terrifying."
Mira blinked. "…Thank you."
"C-can we sit with you?" the feline asked.
Danny opened his mouth.
"Absolutely," Jake said, scooting over so aggressively he almost knocked Jade off the bench. "Come, bask in the glory of our soreness!"
The two cadets sat. The crystalline one did not so much sit as hover politely at table height.
"I'm Tessa," the feline said. "Sniper track."
"Designate Prism-17," the crystalline cadet said. "Support analysis."
Danny relaxed a little. "I'm—"
"We know," they said at the same time.
Danny flushed. "…Right."
"Golden Dragon," Prism-17 said in quiet awe.
"Just Danny is fine."
"Golden Danny," Jake tried.
"No," Swift said.
Prism turned to Swift, staring. "You shifted forms."
Swift stiffened. "Yes."
"You look… good," Tessa said, cheeks darkening under her fur.
Swift stared at his tray like it might save him. "Thank you."
Shadeclaw's ears twitched, amused.
At a table two rows over, a cluster of cadets watched the entire exchange with narrowed eyes.
One—a tall psionic elf with pale skin, dark hair, and eyes that glowed faint violet—leaned back, arms folded. His uniform was immaculate. His insignia indicated advanced psychic operations training.
"So that's them," he said, voice dripping casual disdain. "Sorn's favorite toys."
A reptilian cadet beside him flicked his tongue. "They did well in the tournament."
"A tournament on one planet," the elf said. "Arcane arenas. Controlled conditions. That's not war. That's theater."
The heavy-set human cadet next to him shrugged. "Still took down the Wolf King. And that shadow mutt is no joke."
The elf's gaze locked on Danny.
"That dragon," he said, "hasn't seen a real battlefield. He's powerful, yes. But power without discipline is an accident waiting to happen."
Another cadet at the table snorted. "Mad you don't have golden fire?"
The elf gave a thin smile. "I prefer control."
Back at the six's table, the air was lighter.
Jake was recounting their first day in training with wild exaggeration, gesturing with his fork.
"—and then Sorn screamed 'WELCOME TO HELL' and I think my soul left my body," he said.
Tessa's eyes widened. "He said that?"
"He says that a lot," Mira murmured.
Jade barked a laugh. "Man's got a brand to maintain."
Prism-17 emitted a sound like a crystal being tapped gently. "What was the Meatgrinder like?"
Shadeclaw smiled slowly, showing teeth. "Beautiful chaos."
"Terrifying," Jake corrected. "He means terrifying."
Danny chimed in. "It's… intense. Sorn's not kidding about breaking us down."
Swift added, "He's also not wrong. We're not nearly as controlled as we need to be."
Jake pointed a fork at him. "Speak for yourself. I am very controlled. I control exactly how often I scream."
No one dignified that with a response.
The hall's doors slid open again with a soft hiss.
Two figures stepped through.
Conversations shifted.
Eyes tracked.
The first was tall, with hair the color of fresh-forged copper, braided back from a strong jawline. Her uniform sleeves were rolled up, revealing corded muscle. She walked like someone used to punching their way through problems.
The second was more slight, blue-skinned with faint bioluminescent patterns along her neck and cheeks, dark hair tied back, eyes a luminous violet-blue. She moved with a calm, predatory grace.
"Targets acquired," Jade muttered under his breath, seeing the way the room responded to them.
The two women scanned the hall.
Then headed straight for Danny's table.
Jake straightened, puffing out his chest. "Ah, yes, the fans arrive in waves—"
They walked right past him.
Jake's shoulders sagged.
The copper-haired woman stopped by Swift.
"Hey," she said, voice rich with confidence. "You're the draconian, right? Swift?"
Swift, who had been mid-sip, almost choked. "Yes. I mean. That's me. Yes."
She grinned. "I'm Cera Voss. Kinetic combat track. I saw your half-dragon work in the sims. It was clean. That's rare."
Swift's ears flushed red. "Thank you. I'm, ah… recalibrating back to fully human."
"It looks good on you," Cera said bluntly.
Somewhere behind them, Jake silently mouthed, It looks good on you, mocking.
Mira kicked him under the table.
The blue-skinned cadet stopped in front of Danny.
"You're the Golden Dragon," she said softly, like stating a fact, not asking.
Danny wanted to melt into his chair. "Just Danny."
"Danny," she repeated, as if testing the shape of it. "I'm Lylia Draeska. Tactician and telepath."
He tried to hold her gaze and failed.
"Your aura," she said, head tilting slightly as she regarded him, "is… beautiful. Like standing near a sunrise you're not sure you deserve to see."
Danny's brain quit.
His mouth said, "Uh, thanks, hi, I—food—training—is—hard."
Lylia smiled, amused but not unkind. "You're cute when your thoughts tangle."
Mira's fingers tightened slightly on her fork.
"Can we join you?" Cera asked, already sliding onto the bench near Swift.
Lylia sat next to Mira, across from Danny.
Jake shoved his tray aside to make room before anyone could abandon him again. "Welcome to the disaster table," he said. "Featuring trauma, bad jokes, and occasional dragon incidents."
Cera laughed. "Sounds like my kind of place."
Shadeclaw regarded the newcomers for a beat, nose twitching slightly as he tasted their scents.
"Warriors," he said. "Good."
"And you are… Shadeclaw?" Lylia asked.
He nodded once.
Her pupils narrowed just slightly. "Your mind is… well-defended."
"It is my own," he replied.
She smiled faintly. "Good answer."
Conversations layered again—now with more laughter, more overlapped voices. Cera and Swift discussed kinetic force and paired assault maneuvers. Lylia asked Mira what disciplines she trained under; Mira shared what she felt safe sharing. Jade bragged about knocking out a hydraulic piston. Jake tried to get Cera to admire his "bronze dragon aesthetic" and was politely ignored.
Somewhere in the rafters, observational cameras adjusted angles, tracking the slowly forming micro-groups.
On the other side of the hall, the psionic elf watched.
He didn't smile.
He didn't frown.
He simply filed information away.
"They're bonding," he said to his table.
"Good for them," the reptilian snorted.
"Dangerous for us," the elf answered.
The announcement came like a physical slap.
"ATTENTION, ALL CADETS," Sorn's voice boomed through the entire hall, rattling cutlery. "CHOW TIME IS OVER. REPORT TO TRAINING CONCOURSE ZERO-ONE. YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES. IF YOU ARE LATE, I WILL REMEMBER."
The last three words held a promise that made several cadets drop their trays.
Jake jumped. "I wasn't done emotionally connecting with my mashed potatoes!"
Cera stood, rolling her shoulders. "See you on the floor, Swift."
He nodded, trying not to look like his heart had just slammed against his ribs.
Lylia rose with fluid grace. "Until next time, Danny."
He managed a coherent, "Yeah. Next time."
She smiled, then drifted away with her tray.
The six stood, moving as a loose unit again.
As they passed the table of jealous cadets, the psionic elf spoke without looking at them.
"Try not to trip over your own legend," he said.
Danny paused.
Shadeclaw shifted.
Jade rolled a shoulder.
Swift's expression didn't change—but the air cooled a degree around them.
Danny could have answered.
He didn't.
He just said, "Come on. We'll be late," and kept walking.
Shadeclaw fell in step beside him. "I could erase his scent from the ship."
"Tempting," Jade muttered.
"No," Danny said. "We'll handle him on the field."
Shadeclaw's eyes gleamed. "Good. I prefer an audience."
Training Concourse Zero-One was already lit when they arrived. The grid lines glowed along the floor. Holographic emitters hummed. The air tasted like anticipation and recycled steel.
Sorn stood in the center.
He did not look like he'd eaten. Or slept. Or done anything besides think of new ways to torment them.
He watched the cadets file in, then blew his whistle once.
Silence fell like a dropped curtain.
"WELCOME BACK, WASTES OF OXYGEN," he barked. "THIS AFTERNOON WE BEGIN SCENARIO TRAINING."
He slammed a clenched fist into a control pillar.
The grid flared.
Walls rose around them in a rough approximation of a ruined city—shattered buildings, collapsed bridges, barricaded streets. Holographic fires burned in corners. Overhead, a simulation of a low red sky cast everything in ominous light.
"SCENARIO TWO," Sorn roared. "HOSTILE EXTRACTION!"
A glowing marker appeared above a distant structure—in the simulation, it was a half-toppled tower marked with a pulsing beacon.
"YOUR OBJECTIVE: FIGHT YOUR WAY THROUGH ENEMY TERRITORY, RETRIEVE THE PACKAGE, AND BRING IT BACK HERE."
A large crate shimmered into being at the center of the target building. Then a warning symbol flashed above it.
"THE PACKAGE WILL DETONATE IF YOU DROP IT," Sorn added. "OR IF YOU TAKE TOO LONG. OR IF YOU ANNOY ME."
Jake whimpered.
"YOU," Sorn pointed at the six. "SUNSHINE SQUAD."
Danny blinked. "Is that… us?"
"Yes," Sorn snarled. "You have twenty seconds. Move."
The environment shifted, sealing them in the first section of the map. Drones appeared at the far edge of the ruined street—this time bulkier, equipped with mock-guns that fired hard-light bolts that would sting like hell.
Danny took a breath. "Okay. Same as before, yeah? Watch each other's backs. Don't split too far."
Swift nodded. "I'll scout left flank. Shadeclaw—right side, high ground. Mira, call paths. Jake, center with me. Jade, float where we need firepower."
Jake squeaked. "Why am I in the center—?"
"Because you're the one we rescue," Jade said.
Drones whirred to life.
Sorn blew his whistle.
The battle started.
Danny surged forward, not sprinting, but moving with purpose, golden power thrumming just under his skin. He raised a hand and instead of blasting raw energy, he formed a barrier—thin, translucent, like the curved edge of a shield.
Hard-light rounds pinged off it and dissolved.
Behind him, Jake yelped and ducked.
Swift darted to the left, using his still-adapting human body with surprising agility. He vaulted over a broken column, grabbed the lip of a shattered balcony, and pulled himself up.
Shadeclaw simply vanished—his body melting into the shadows between broken stones, reappearing atop a fragmented ledge to the right. From there he launched himself onto a drone, claws striking with surgical precision. Sparks flew. The drone crashed.
Mira moved with careful efficiency, eyes tracking angles.
"Three on the left, two on the roof, one behind the car shell," she called. "Jade, left rooftop."
"On it," Jade said, rolling his shoulders. He slammed his palms together. Chi flared around his arms like compressed air turning visible. He thrust his hands forward with a sharp exhale.
The blast wasn't the wild, reckless scatter he'd used in the tournament.
It was narrower.
Focused.
It slammed into the left rooftop, detonating under one drone's chassis and sending it tumbling.
"YE—" Jake began.
Something smacked him in the back of the head.
He stumbled, dazed.
"WATCH YOUR SIX, BRONZE BABY!" Sorn thundered from the observation deck.
Mira spun, knives flashing. She flicked two at once, their hilts magnetically drawn to the weak points on the drone that had flanked them. It dropped like a stone.
"Thanks," Jake wheezed.
"Don't mention it," she said. "Ever."
They pushed forward.
The environment responded.
Barricades retracted. New cover popped up. A simulated explosion rocked the far end of the street, making the ground shudder.
Danny found a rhythm.
Not the wild, overwhelming power surge he'd used against the Wolf King. Not the hesitant, half-hearted restraint he'd used at the beginning of training. Something between.
A drone fired at Shadeclaw's back.
Danny lifted his hand.
A precise bolt of golden light severed the weapon barrel without vaporizing the entire unit.
Shadeclaw glanced back, eyes flicking in acknowledgment.
Danny nodded once.
They reached an intersection crowded with simulated wreckage.
Mira raised her voice. "Stop. Four hostiles above. Two to the right, one behind the burned transport."
"How do you even see that?" Jake asked.
"Pattern recognition," she muttered, then pointed. "Shadeclaw, right side. Jade, top left. Swift, with me."
Swift's lips twitched. "Are you… giving orders?"
Mira's cheeks flushed. "Is that… not allowed?"
Danny stepped in. "We all listen to the person who sees the most. Go."
Drones dropped from the rooftops like mechanical spiders.
Shadeclaw was a blur, slamming into one midair, disassembling it before it hit the ground.
Jade's chi blast arced higher this time, clipped two drones at once, sending them spinning into each other.
Swift slid under a beam, planted one hand, and used his momentum to flip to his feet, kicking a drone back toward Danny.
Danny turned and punched through the hard-light shell, bursting it apart.
Jake… tripped.
He hit the ground, rolled, and narrowly avoided being crushed by a falling drone carcass.
He lay there for a second.
"I'm helping!" he shouted.
"You're surviving," Swift called. "That counts."
They fought their way closer to the glowing tower.
Sorn watched, lips curled in a half-snarl of concentration.
"Better," he muttered, almost grudgingly. "Still sloppy. But better."
He leaned into the microphone. "SUNSHINE SQUAD. TWO MINUTES."
The ground between them and the building shifted, the simulation generating a new hazard: cracked piping spraying out arcs of simulated flame, damaged shield emitters flickering, collapsing walkways.
"Fastest path?" Danny asked.
"Straight through," Mira said. "Slow is worse than hard."
Shadeclaw grinned. "I like her."
They moved again.
Jake, for all his anxiety, found a place—a space where his instinct to rush in actually mattered. A drone targeted Mira; Jake threw himself into its line of fire, catching the blast on his training armor and roaring back with a shaky gout of bronze flame.
Not perfect.
Enough to stun it.
Swift finished it.
"Nice," Swift said.
Jake blinked. "Nice?"
"That's what he said," Jade snickered. "Don't faint."
They reached the base of the designated tower with fifty seconds left.
Inside, the corridors were tight and full of ambush points. Drones lurked behind corners. Auto turrets popped down from the ceiling. The entire structure rattled like it might collapse.
At the top, on a platform with low cover and no walls, sat the package.
A crate the size of Jake.
Glowing warning symbols crawled across its surface.
"Danny or I should carry it," Swift said as they pushed up the last flight. "We're stronger."
Shadeclaw tilted his head. "Danny is too obvious. Every drone will target him."
"They do anyway," Jade said.
Mira stepped forward. "We're wasting time. Danny, you shield. Swift, cover left. Jade, right. Shadeclaw, high. Jake, center. I'll carry."
Danny hesitated. "Mira, if that thing explodes—"
"I know," she said, eyes steady. "But I'm least likely to stumble with it."
Jake opened his mouth, then shut it. It was true.
Sorn's voice crackled.
"FORTY SECONDS."
Mira jogged toward the crate.
Shadeclaw flanked her, ears twitching.
The moment her hands touched it, more drones swarmed.
Danny felt something tighten in his chest—a familiar urge to obliterate everything in their path.
He took a breath and shaped it instead.
Golden energy flickered around him and solidified into a forward dome that stretched over Mira and the crate. Hard-light shots hit it and sizzled.
On the left, Swift moved like a silver ghost, deflecting shots with his training baton and kicking drones off the platform. On the right, Jade blew a hole in a turret cluster without collapsing the floor.
Jake planted his feet in the center, arms extended slightly, ready to catch any stray shots with his armor or his face if he had to.
Mira lifted the crate.
It was heavier than it looked.
She felt the simulated weight drag on her arms—but her steps stayed steady.
"Don't drop it," Jade said.
"Thank you," she deadpanned. "I hadn't considered that."
They retreated down the stairs, Mira in the center, the others around her.
The route back wasn't the same.
The simulation altered the environment.
Collapsed corridors. New drone patterns. A fresh turret emplacement.
"Left, left, right, duck," Mira called.
Jake ducked a half-second too late, got clipped, and tumbled down a few steps. Danny grabbed his collar with one hand and hauled him back up without losing stride.
"Thanks," Jake gasped.
"Run faster," Danny said.
They hit the open street again.
Package glowing. Timer ticking.
"THIRTY SECONDS," Sorn thundered.
The barricades they'd used for cover before were now obstacles. The blasts came heavier. The simulated flames from the ruptured pipes had grown.
Mira's arms shook.
She gritted her teeth.
"I can—do it," she hissed.
Danny adjusted the shield to cover more of her instead of himself.
A blast slipped through and struck his shoulder.
He grimaced but didn't slow down.
Shadeclaw dropped from above, landed in front of them, and took out three drones in rapid succession like it was nothing.
"Path clear," he growled.
They sprinted.
The extraction point shimmered ahead, marked by a bright circle on the ground.
"TEN SECONDS," Sorn's voice boomed.
Mira pushed herself the last few steps and stumbled into the circle. Danny dove in beside her, followed by Swift, Jade, Shadeclaw, and Jake.
The moment all six of them were inside, the crate emitted a soft ping.
Simulation froze.
Everything went still.
The ruined city flickered out of existence, replaced by polished steel and plain grid lines. The drones vanished.
The six cadets collapsed in a pile.
Jake laughed and sobbed at the same time. "We didn't die. We didn't die. I'm so proud of us."
Mira set the crate down carefully.
Her hands were shaking.
Danny was breathing hard, his shoulder throbbing. Swift's hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Jade panted, but a wild grin stretched across his face. Shadeclaw's chest heaved with exertion, but his eyes were as bright as any predator after a successful hunt.
From above, Sorn stared down at them.
He blew his whistle once.
The sound was almost… approving.
"YOU LIVED," he barked. "BARELY. YOU THINK THIS IS AN ACCOMPLISHMENT?"
Jake wheezed, "Yes, Staff Sergeant!"
Sorn snorted.
"…It is. For day two."
The cadets looked at each other.
"Did… did he just compliment us?" Jake whispered.
"Don't jinx it," Swift muttered.
Sorn crossed his massive arms.
"YOU. SUNSHINE SQUAD. You're still sloppy. You're still reckless. You still make me want to punch a star until it cries."
He paused.
"But you moved like a team. That is the first step to not dying horribly in this job."
Danny felt something warm settle in his chest that had nothing to do with fire.
Pride.
Not in himself alone.
In all of them.
Sorn slammed his fist into the control pillar again.
"YOU'VE GOT ONE HOUR BEFORE NIGHT DRILLS. EAT. HYDRATE. CONTEMPLATE YOUR FLAWS."
He pointed directly at them.
"AND TOMORROW? I'M TURNING THE DIFFICULTY UP."
Jake let out a strangled whimper.
Mira wiped sweat from her face and nodded to herself.
Swift rolled his shoulders, feeling the strange new rightness of his human body and the familiar echo of draconic power beneath it.
Shadeclaw flexed his claws.
Jade cracked his neck.
Danny looked at his friends, then up at the training grid walls, at the ship overhead, at the stars beyond.
Fifty months.
A Golden Dragon of Creation.
A Silver Dragon in human skin.
A Bronze Dragon trying not to be crushed.
A Shadowwolf assassin.
A street-born chi brawler.
A quiet knife.
All being broken and reforged in a forge of steel and sweat and screaming.
He smiled.
"We can do this," he said.
And for once, no one argued.