The night had settled over the forest, warm with the crackling of the campfire in the middle of the training camp. The smell of cooked meat still hung faintly in the air, lingering like a reminder of the feast they had just devoured. Stomachs full, laughter still carrying between the tables, the squad had begun to scatter into smaller groups. Some stretching, others leaning back to soak in the stars that dotted the sky above.

  It was Daisy who broke the lingering lull of silence. “Hey,” she said, her voice carrying just enough mischief to draw eyes toward her. “Since we’re all sitting here stuffed and useless, why don’t we… I dunno… open up a little? You know, get to know each other better. Favorite heroes, embarrassing stories, dreams, whatever. Something fun.”

  Oliver raised an eyebrow. “You mean like a campfire bonding session?”

  “Yes!” Daisy clapped her hands together. “Exactly that. We’re practically living like soldiers here, so we might as well feel like family too.”

  A few groans rose from the group, but it was playful resistance, not genuine. The firelight flickered across their faces, casting shadows that made them look at once older and younger, warriors and kids.

  “Fine,” Casper said, shifting where he sat and crossing his arms. “But let’s make it interesting. Favorite hero from the golden age. Back in Raphael’s time. The ones who actually set the standard for Espers.”

  At the mention of his name, Raphael lifted his gaze briefly from the corner where he had been sitting. He didn’t say anything, but his presence alone seemed to affirm the choice of topic.

  “Alright, I’ll start then,” Casper said. He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with genuine admiration. “Dietrich Falkenrath. The pride of German engineering. Guy had no grace. None. And yet he stood toe-to-toe with legends.” He jabbed a finger in the air for emphasis. “He built his own weapons, his own armor, his own everything. Proved to the world that even graceless could fight among gods. That’s a man worth remembering.”

  Lysander let out a low whistle, then smirked. “Sounds exactly like you, huh? Except instead of a German engineering prodigy, we’ve got… well, you. Our very own knockoff Dietrich.”

  “Shut it,” Casper shot back immediately, heat rising in his cheeks. “At least I picked someone with substance. Who’s yours, huh? Probably some playboy you relate to because you think you’re one.”

  The group laughed at that, and Lysander only grinned wider, clearly pleased to have riled him up.

  Meanwhile, Elisa had turned to Stacy, eyes bright with curiosity. “Let me guess. Yours has to be Victoria Wynthorne, right? England’s pride and last queen? That’d make sense for you.”

  But Stacy shook her head, smiling softly. “No. Mine’s élo?se Marcelline.”

  The table went silent for a second, stunned.

  “Wait—what?” Elisa blinked at her, caught completely off guard. “Not Victoria? She’s like… the obvious choice! She singlehandedly defended England for decades, created the first monolith, and had a grace that literally turned fleets of ships into her weapons. The Saviour Queen! She’s my favorite too, honestly.” Elisa’s words tumbled out rapidly, her ‘yap mode’ in full throttle now.

  Daisy tilted her head. “Hold on, who exactly are these two? I’m getting lost.”

  Elisa didn’t even wait. She launched into her explanation with the excitement of someone giving a lecture she’d been preparing for years. “Victoria Wynthorne was the last queen of England before the collapse. They called her the Saviour Queen because she held back invasions practically alone. Her grace ‘Rule Britannia’ allowed her to control naval vessels like extensions of herself. Entire armadas bent to her will! She’s the reason the first monolith even exists, and without her, England would’ve been swallowed whole.”

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  Daisy’s jaw dropped. “Whoa.”

  “And élo?se?” Stacy added, picking up where Elisa left off. Her voice was quieter, steadier. “She was the Hero of France. Her banner united half of Europe under her golden light. She reclaimed entire cities from the monsters pouring through rifts, drove them back step by step. They say wherever she went, hope followed. For me, she represents not just power, but the ability to make people believe in tomorrow again.”

  The fire popped, filling the silence that followed. For once, no one teased Stacy. Her reverence was contagious.

  “I guess that leaves me,” Daisy said, fiddling with the plush keychain dangling from her bag before setting it aside. “Mine’s Mikhail Vostrikov. My grandfather.”

  Heads turned sharply.

  “You mean… Carmen’s father?” Rei asked quietly.

  Daisy nodded. “Yeah. Most people only know the stories, but I grew up hearing them at the dinner table. He once fought a dragon for three days straight. Alone. No breaks. When it finally died, he used its bones and scales to forge a weapon. One that’s still sealed away somewhere in WEO storage.” She smiled faintly, pride swelling in her chest. “He wasn’t just a hero to the world. He was family.”

  Even Lysander didn’t joke this time. The respect was too heavy in the air.

  “Alright, my turn,” Lysander said, finally breaking the silence. He smirked and leaned back dramatically. “Yang Zhenhai. China’s own storm. Man practically rebuilt a nation after all of Asia collapsed. Say what you want about his… uh… personal life choices, but he was a force. Multiple wives, maybe, but also one hell of a hero.”

  Carter snorted. “So you admit you just picked him because he’s a playboy like you?”

  “Hey,” Lysander raised his hands in mock defense. “Legacy speaks louder than gossip.”

  The laughter that followed was cut when Lysander’s finger shot toward Zane, who had been unusually quiet all evening. “What about you, lightning boy? Who’s your pick?”

  The sudden attention made Zane stiffen. Dozens of eyes fell on him. He hesitated, then exhaled slowly. “...Raiden Itsukawa. Stormbringer.”

  The name hit the group like a thunderclap.

  “Wait.” Elisa’s voice cracked. “Did you just—”

  Casper squinted. “Who’s that?”

  Before Zane could answer, Luna leaned forward, her expression deadly serious. “Humanity’s Strongest Esper. Japan’s greatest hero. The Stormbringer. She holds the highest confirmed kill count in history, over 5.6 million. She’s… she’s a legend.”

  Now every eye was locked on Zane, their earlier curiosity spiking into shock.

  Elisa’s hands slapped the table. “You’re telling me she’s your mother?!”

  Zane gave a nervous chuckle, sweat pricking at his neck. Then he bolted. A mad dash into the night.

  “Hey!” Carter jumped to his feet. “Get back here!”

  Lysander was already moving to chase, but Caleb’s arm shot out, stopping them both with a solid grip. His face was firm. “Leave it. That’s personal. You don’t dig into someone’s bloodline unless they offer it.”

  The protest died on Carter’s lips, though his frustration lingered. Lysander slumped back into his seat, clearly itching for answers but respecting Caleb’s word.

  The shift left the group buzzing, restless, until eyes naturally drifted toward Raphael. He had been quiet all night, but now the firelight caught the lines on his face, the scars of wars long past.

  “You worked with them, didn’t you?” Stacy asked carefully. “With all those heroes.”

  Raphael met their gazes, one by one. Then, with the brevity of a man who had seen too much, he gave his answers. “Yes. Victoria was as fierce as the sea she commanded. élo?se’s banner burned brighter than her enemies’ hate. Mikhail was stubborn, unyielding, a mountain in human form. Yang was… complicated. And Stormbringer?” His eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of respect cutting through. “She was the storm that swallowed the world whole, and somehow left it standing.”

  The campfire went silent, reverence cloaking them once more. Raphael’s words carried weight, undeniable and final.

  When he fell silent again, the group shifted back to each other, letting the gravity ease. They began to share lighter pieces of themselves. Threads of humanity behind the warrior masks.

  Caleb pulled out an old photo, passing it around with a grin. In it, he was rail-thin, awkward in posture, a far cry from the towering shield of muscle he was now. The group erupted into laughter, teasing him mercilessly, and Caleb only took it with pride.

  Stacy spoke next, confessing her dream of opening a flower shop, a place where battles and blood had no place. Daisy revealed her collection of plushies, her cheeks burning as she admitted she still slept with two of them. Luna mentioned her past as a freelancer hacker, how she once nearly broke into a WEO database before being recruited instead of arrested. Tessa bristled at being called short again, her small frame a sore spot, though the teasing was gentler this time, filled with camaraderie.

  It was warm. Real. A rare moment where they weren’t just recruits or fighters, but people.

  That left only two who hadn’t shared.

  Eyes turned toward Aiden and Elijah. The captains sat side by side, silent observers until now.

  “C’mon,” Lysander urged. “Don’t think you two get a free pass. Spill something.”

  “Yeah,” Elisa added eagerly. “We told ours. It’s your turn.”

  Both captains shook their heads immediately. “No,” Aiden said firmly.

  “Not happening,” Elijah agreed.

  But the group’s persistence was relentless. They poked, prodded, begged, until Elijah sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I… have a slightly bad sense of direction.”

  That earned chuckles, but the group pressed harder.

  Aiden finally gave in with a deadpan expression. “Once, during training, a cockroach jumped at me. I panicked. Accidentally blew up an entire building.”

  The silence that followed lasted only two seconds before the entire group burst out laughing, some nearly choking on their own breath.

  “You WHAT?!” Casper wheezed.

  “Hey,” Aiden said flatly. “It was a big cockroach.”

  Tears streamed down Daisy’s face as she doubled over, clutching her stomach. Elijah smirked quietly, pleased that his misery had been eclipsed.

  The laughter eventually slowed, but the warmth lingered. And then Aiden’s eyes sharpened, flicking toward Rei.

  “Alright,” he said casually. “Our turn to ask. Rei… who’s Kristine?”

  The group fell quiet again, all eyes swiveling to Rei at once. The fire crackled, hungry for the tension now settling in the air.

  [End of Chapter]