(Xyrion POV)

  The shift didn’t announce itself.

  It never did.

  Rotations shortened by minutes. Briefings ran long. Drill resets came faster than recovery allowed. Candidates adapted or began to fail quietly, which was worse. If quiet failures went unnoticed, they cost time — or blood.

  Xyrion tracked it all from the margins, where command learned what instructors wouldn’t say aloud.

  Vern had tightened the schedule.

  Not indiscriminately. Precisely.

  Scout exercises ran earlier now, pathing drills layered with secondary objectives, fallback routes altered mid-run. Vern didn’t correct often. When he did, it wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t directed where Xyrion expected.

  Lysara appeared more frequently near those drills.

  Still listed as field apothecary.

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  Still without designation or his approval.

  Xyrion noticed because Vern kept switching her between lifeward and scout drills.

  Routes adjusted after she paused. Sightlines corrected when her attention lingered. Once, a senior scout was repositioned with a sharp gesture — not because he’d erred, but because Lysara’s angle had narrowed.

  She never spoke.

  She never reported.

  And yet Vern altered the plan anyway.

  That was the problem.

  Vern was using her without owning her.

  From Xyrion’s perspective, that made her a liability without containment. A fault line waiting for pressure.

  Kayden drifted closer to her over successive drills. Not overtly. Just enough that spacing compensated. Xyrion noted it and felt his irritation sharpen.

  Instinctive gravitation was not doctrine.

  Vern didn’t intervene.

  Of course he didn’t. Vern wasn’t executing — he never did. He built the plan, set the tolerances, then stepped back to see what survived them. Command by omission. Authority without interference.

  Above Xyrion’s rank. Above his objections.

  Effective. Infuriating.

  Lysara continued to function.

  She moved when formations shifted. Held position when others rushed. Did not intervene, did not slow the unit, did not draw attention. As long as she remained within those bounds, Xyrion had no justification to shut it down.

  That didn’t mean he trusted it.

  Mistakes cost lives. And untrained weapons broke unpredictably.

  By the end of the week, fatigue had stripped the room of bravado. Vern canceled optional rotations. Notices went up for a full assembly.

  Xyrion read them once and folded the slate away.

  Final assignments were coming.

  Whatever Vern had been testing, he was about to make it visible.