"Hisss."

  Elira flinched. The smell of burning skin filled her nose, mixing with the stale air of the processing room.

  She raised a trembling hand to touch the back of her neck.

  She glared at the man holding the glowing red metal rod. He didn't even look at her. He was already wiping the charred flesh off the stamp with a rag.

  Slap.

  A heavy hand hit the back of her head.

  "Get out of the way, brat. You are blocking the line."

  Elira stumbled forward, walking out of the hot, sweaty room. Behind her, she heard a loud "NEXT" followed by the sound of sizzling meat and a muffled scream.

  She glared at the man standing outside, waiting for her. The same man who had recruited her from the dungeon.

  "What the hell was that for?"

  Slap.

  The man hit her head again. Harder this time.

  "Call me Major Viktor Draskov."

  Why do these people like to slap my head so much?

  Elira gritted her teeth.

  "...What the hell was that for, Major Viktor Draskov?"

  "That mark," Viktor pointed to her neck. "Let me kill you whenever I want."

  Elira blinked. She touched the burning mark again.

  "...You should do that now."

  Viktor continued walking.

  "Enough talking. We are leaving."

  Elira tried to say something else, but her throat tightened.

  Major Viktor picked Elira up by the back of her collar, like a piece of luggage.

  "Hold your breath."

  He didn't wait.

  Gravity vanished. They shot upward, into the open sky.

  Elira’s stomach dropped.

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  Then they started moving.

  Fast.

  So fast that the ground became a blur of gray and green. The wind roared in her ears, tearing at her eyes. It was cold. Freezing.

  Elira squeezed her eyes shut.

  How does flying feel?

  Terrible.

  Worse, Elira had to endure it for hours.

  When the flight was finally over, Elira found herself on her hands and knees, pouring the contents of her empty stomach onto the frozen dirt.

  "Ugh... hng..."

  While she retched, Major Viktor stood nearby, talking to a soldier at the gate. He stood tall, his uniform unwrinkled by the wind.

  The soldier, a younger man with a scruffy beard, walked toward Elira while Viktor strode past the checkpoint without looking back.

  "Oh, Great Emperor... They are sending a child to this place?"

  "..."

  Elira wiped her mouth. This felt familiar.

  Sighing, she forced herself to stand up. Her legs wobbled.

  "What now?" she croaked.

  The soldier blinked.

  "Hello, girl. I am Yevan. Let's go. We can talk on the way. The Major ordered me to show you to your... quarters."

  "Welcome to the Volkrad Defensive Line. You can call it the Red East. Or the Red Line for short."

  Yevan walked ahead, gesturing to the massive walls of black steel that stretched endlessly into the horizon. The sky here was gray, choked with smoke and mana exhaust.

  "This is the impenetrable shield of the Empire," Yevan recited. "And the great graveyard of us soldiers. My grandfather was buried here. Then my father. And my brother too..."

  He glanced back at her.

  "Family tradition, I guess."

  Yevan walked Elira around the base. He pointed out the mess hall, the armory, and the areas restricted for high-ranking officers.

  "I don't know what you did, kid,... but the brass must be crazy to send you to die on the front line. Absolutely ridiculous."

  Elira averted her gaze, staring at the muddy boots of the passing soldiers.

  She dared not look into this man's eyes.

  He didn't know he was walking next to a mass murderer.

  They continued walking. Other soldiers stopped to stare. Their gazes were heavy.

  "This is where you will sleep from now on."

  Yevan stopped in front of a rusted metal door in the lower levels of the fortress.

  He opened it.

  "Room" was a generous word. It was a closet. A metal box designed to pack furniture into the smallest space possible. The ceiling was so low that Yevan had to hunch over to enter.

  There were two bunk beds squeezed into the space. The bottom bunk on the left was empty. The other one had a pile of blankets on it.

  "Your garments and standard issue kit are under the bed. That’s all. I have to go back to my post."

  He looked at her one last time.

  "Don't die before me, kid."

  He closed the door.

  Elira was alone.

  The room smelled of rust, sweat, and mold.

  She sat on the thin, hard mattress of the bottom bunk. She hugged her knees to her chest.

  She raised her hand.

  A golden light flickered into existence.

  The barrier formed around her. It was small, fragile, and covered in a web of beautiful, glowing cracks.

  Elira traced her finger along the cracks of light. It felt warm.

  "Mom... Dad..."

  She whispered into the silence of the metal coffin.

  "...Arlen."

  The barrier hummed softly, a lullaby for the damned.

  "What should I do now?"