The younger staff looked confused.
"Tell us what?"
The evaluator spoke as if he were remembering something deeply buried. Not just a moment, but a truth that most people didn't learn until it was too late.
"That there's a difference between a fighter and someone who was born to make others kneel."
They didn't understand it yet. Not fully. But the screen made it clear.
Ethan pivoted, clean and sharp. His blade flashed across the beast's side—not wild, not rushed. Just right.
The creature roared again.
But this time, it wasn't defiance. It wasn't even fury.
It was fear.
And not the kind that came from pain.
It came from realization.
Because somewhere in its primal instincts, buried deep in whatever it used to judge threats, something was screaming that this wasn't a normal fight.
And it was already too late.
No one in the control room was speaking anymore. The silence wasn't awkward or strained.
