Squad Z

In the early hours of the morning, sunlight streamed through the narrow window of Nizara's dorm, stirring him from a restless sleep. He yawned and stretched, feeling a rare sense of calm after the chaotic events of the previous day. "Finally, a normal day," he thought to himself, relieved that he might have some time to relax. As he got dressed and opened the door, he was suddenly met with a familiar voice.

"About time you woke up," Zalthor said, casually leaning against the wall outside, legs crossed and arms folded as if he'd been waiting for hours.

Startled, Nizara jumped slightly. "What the—Zalthor? What are you doing here this early? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he snapped, holding a hand to his chest.

Zalthor smirked, unfazed by Nizara's reaction. "Relax, you'll live. I've been thinking about something all night. We need to figure out more about that power you've awakened. It's not something we can just ignore."

Nizara groaned, rubbing his temples. "Seriously? I was hoping for a quiet day after that exhausting mess we went through. I don't have the energy for more training or whatever you've got planned."

Zalthor's expression turned serious. "This is for your own good, Nizara. You can't afford to brush this off. If you don't figure out what's happening with your powers, it could lead to trouble. You're strong, but even you know that unpredictable strength is a double-edged sword."

After a moment of hesitation, Nizara sighed heavily. "You're relentless, you know that? Fine, let's get this over with. But if I pass out from draining my energy again, you're carrying me back here."

The two of them made their way to a secluded forest area within the kingdom's boundaries, a place they often went to for private training. The tall, dense trees formed a natural barrier, allowing them the solitude needed for something as sensitive as this. Birds chirped and the wind rustled the leaves, but the serene setting did little to ease Nizara's frustration.

"So, what's the plan?" Nizara asked as they arrived, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet.

Zalthor scanned the surroundings before answering, "We're going to push your limits. I want you to try activating your powers consciously, without any external triggers like danger or rage. We need to understand if it's something you can control—or if it's controlling you."

Nizara narrowed his eyes. "Great. More guessing games with something I barely understand myself." He closed his eyes, trying to focus, but nothing happened. After several failed attempts, he grew irritated. "I told you, it's not something I can just switch on. It only shows up when things get intense."

"That's exactly what worries me," Zalthor replied, pacing slowly. "It means your power responds to emotion, not intention. Which makes it dangerous. And if it's linked to something darker… well, you know what that could mean in this kingdom."

"Yeah, yeah, you've warned me a million times. 'If it's Dark Magic, run for the hills,'" Nizara mimicked in a mocking tone. "But what if it's not? What if it's something else entirely?"

"That's what we're here to figure out," Zalthor said firmly. "Now stop whining and focus."

For the next couple of hours, they tried different exercises—meditation, combat drills, and scenarios that might trigger the mysterious power. With every attempt, Nizara's frustration mounted. "This is pointless! You're pushing me to my breaking point and nothing's happening!" he snapped, sparks of energy flickering faintly around his hands.

"Wait," Zalthor said, his eyes narrowing. "That's it. You're getting close. Your emotions—don't suppress them, channel them."

Nizara clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, trying to follow Zalthor's advice. Just as he felt a surge of energy building up, it faded away, leaving him drained and even more annoyed. "Damn it! It's like chasing shadows!"

Zalthor watched him carefully. "You're on the verge of something. We just need more time. We're getting closer, trust me."

The sun was high in the sky by now, casting sharp shadows through the trees as they continued their testing. Despite the tension and fatigue, there was a growing sense of determination between them. Nizara might have wanted a quiet day, but deep down, he knew this was necessary. And with Zalthor's relentless focus guiding him, the answers they sought felt within reach—no matter how elusive they seemed.

Finally, as they took a moment to rest, Nizara leaned against a tree, panting heavily. "You're really not letting this go, huh?"

Zalthor shook his head with a faint grin. "Not a chance. We're in this together, and I'm not about to let you walk around with a ticking time bomb inside you. We'll crack this mystery, one way or another."

With that, the training session ended, but the questions surrounding Nizara's powers lingered, unresolved but closer to being unveiled than ever before.

Nizara and Zalthor walked through the bustling city streets, weaving between throngs of people going about their day. The atmosphere was lively, with merchants shouting their deals and children playing by the fountain, but amidst the buzz, something caught their attention. Across the street, they noticed a man pestering a woman who clearly looked uncomfortable, her body tense and her expression full of unease as she tried to pull away from him.

Before Zalthor could even react, Nizara's instincts kicked in. With a sudden burst of speed using his Swiftstride, he blurred forward, reaching the scene in the blink of an eye. He grabbed the man's wrist just as he was about to make another unwelcome advance. "What do you think you're doing?" Nizara asked coldly, his grip tightening on the man's wrist, causing him to flinch. The woman, now free from the man's grasp, quickly stepped back, relief washing over her face.

The man's expression twisted with anger as he wrenched his hand away. "Who the hell do you think you are, getting in my business?!" he spat, motioning for his friends to back him up. They were a small group of thugs, clearly not used to being challenged.

Zalthor caught up, standing beside Nizara with a frown. "We should handle this carefully—"

Before he could finish, the man and his friends lunged at Nizara, fists raised. But Nizara was ready. He effortlessly dodged their clumsy attacks, his movements swift and precise. With a series of quick, calculated strikes, he disarmed and incapacitated them one by one. The thugs barely had time to react before they were left sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain. The woman watched in awe, now safe thanks to Nizara's intervention.

Just as Nizara was about to turn away, satisfied that the situation was handled, a whistle pierced the air. The Royal Guards arrived on the scene, immediately drawing their swords and surrounding Nizara.

"Step away from them! You're under arrest for disturbing the peace and assaulting citizens!" one of the guards barked, their tone authoritative and harsh.

Zalthor stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Wait, you've got it wrong. Nizara was only defending that woman. These men were harassing her—"

The guard cut him off. "Save your excuses. We saw what happened, and we don't care who started it. Attacking people in the middle of the city is a crime, no matter the reason. He's coming with us."

Despite Zalthor's protests, the guards closed in and restrained Nizara, binding his hands with thick ropes. "This is ridiculous," Nizara muttered under his breath, but he didn't resist. He knew fighting the guards would only make things worse.

As they began dragging him away, Zalthor clenched his fists in frustration. "You're making a mistake! Nizara was only doing what's right!"

But his words fell on deaf ears. The guards hauled Nizara off, leaving Zalthor standing there, watching helplessly as his friend was taken away. The crowd that had gathered murmured among themselves, some agreeing with the guards, others quietly praising Nizara's actions. The woman Nizara had saved tried to step forward to explain, but the guards ignored her as well, too focused on completing their duties.

As Zalthor watched them disappear into the distance, a sense of unease settled in his chest. The city's justice system wasn't always fair, and he feared this would lead to something much bigger than a simple misunderstanding.

Nizara was escorted through the grand hallways of the royal palace, flanked by stern-faced guards. The atmosphere was tense, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the marble floors. Nizara remained calm despite the circumstances, his mind racing as he prepared himself for whatever awaited him next. The doors to the throne room creaked open, revealing the vast chamber where King Auzara sat on his elevated throne, his piercing gaze locked on Nizara as he was dragged inside.

But what drew Nizara's attention even more were the three other leaders present in the room. At the center stood Thorian, the formidable commander of the Attack Force, Nizara's own leader, his expression unreadable as his eyes briefly met Nizara's. To Thorian's left stood Viktor, the hulking leader of the Military Force, a man known more for his strategic brilliance than for his brawn. And lastly, to Thorian's right was Isolde, the sharp-eyed, relentless leader of the Police Force, known for her cunning and strict sense of justice.

As Nizara approached, Isolde couldn't help but smirk, her tone laced with sarcasm as she commented, "Well, well, well. I never expected to see the great Nizara in handcuffs. What a sight."

Nizara met her gaze with a sly grin, unfazed. "You're only upset because I didn't choose to join your Police Force, Isolde. Still bitter, I see?"

Isolde's eyes narrowed as her smirk faded, replaced with a spark of irritation. She clenched her fists, clearly wanting to wipe the grin off his face. "Watch your mouth, brat!" she snapped, taking a step forward as if she was ready to strike. But before she could act, Viktor placed a firm hand on her shoulder, shaking his head calmly.

"Not worth it," Viktor rumbled, his deep voice carrying a note of warning. "He's not the enemy here."

Nizara maintained his relaxed posture, his voice calm yet confident. "I didn't do anything wrong. I was simply saving a woman from being harassed. If that's now considered a crime, then I'd say things are more twisted than I thought."

King Auzara leaned forward slightly, observing Nizara closely. "Is that so?" His voice was deep, resonating with an aura of authority that silenced the room. "You seem rather calm for someone accused of assault."

"I'm calm because I know the truth," Nizara replied without hesitation. "The Royal Guards didn't bother investigating the situation. They saw a fight and immediately assumed I was the cause. If they'd cared to ask, they would've found out that the men I 'assaulted' were harassing a woman who was clearly uncomfortable."

Thorian, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his voice measured. "I trust Nizara's words. He's reckless at times, but he doesn't lie, and he wouldn't resort to violence without a reason."

Isolde crossed her arms, still clearly unimpressed. "That doesn't change the fact that he's a loose cannon. If he keeps acting on his own, he's going to cause more trouble down the line. He needs discipline."

Nizara rolled his eyes. "Discipline? I think I'm doing fine without it. If it means letting people get away with what those men were doing, I'll pass."

King Auzara tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne, deep in thought. "Enough." The single word cut through the tension in the room. "Nizara, you acted impulsively, but your intentions were in the right place. However, this kingdom cannot tolerate members of its forces creating disturbances, regardless of the circumstances."

Nizara's smirk faded slightly, but he held his ground. "Understood. But I won't stand by and let innocent people suffer because of protocol."

Auzara's eyes darkened slightly. "Be careful, Nizara. Defiance can lead to consequences."

Before anyone else could speak, Thorian stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I request leniency. Nizara's actions may have been rash, but they were not driven by malice. I'll ensure he receives the proper guidance."

Viktor nodded in agreement. "Agreed. The situation, though unfortunate, doesn't warrant severe punishment."

Isolde remained silent, though her expression showed that she still had reservations.

King Auzara finally leaned back in his throne, giving a slow nod. "Very well. Nizara, you're free to go, but heed my warning. Next time, you might not be so fortunate."

Nizara gave a respectful bow, though his eyes still held a rebellious spark. "Understood, Your Majesty."

As the guards removed the cuffs, Nizara glanced at Isolde one last time, a mischievous grin returning to his face. "Better luck recruiting me next time."

Isolde scoffed but said nothing as Nizara turned and walked out of the throne room, Zalthor quietly following behind. As the two exited the palace, Zalthor finally broke the silence.

"You really know how to test your luck, don't you?"

Nizara shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What can I say? Life's boring if you play it safe."

Zalthor sighed but couldn't help but chuckle. "Let's just hope you don't push it too far."

Nizara glanced up at the clear morning sky, taking a deep breath. "I doubt it. Now, where were we with finding out more about my powers?"

Zalthor smiled faintly. "Back to that already? You really never slow down."

Nizara's grin widened. "Not a chance. Let's see what I'm really capable of."

For hours, Nizara and Zalthor trained relentlessly in the secluded forest. The sun had long descended, leaving only the dim light of the moon to illuminate their surroundings. Nizara pushed himself to the limit, channeling his energy, trying to unlock whatever mysterious power lay within him. Zalthor observed closely, analyzing each attempt, but despite their efforts, they couldn't seem to make any significant progress. The air was thick with frustration as Nizara unleashed spell after spell, only for them to fizzle out or behave unpredictably.

"Nothing's working," Nizara muttered, his voice strained from exhaustion. "I've been at this for hours, and we're getting nowhere."

Zalthor sighed, rubbing his temples. "We need to take a break. Pushing yourself like this without rest won't get us any closer to answers."

Nizara nodded reluctantly. "You're right. It's already late. Let's head back to the dorms and pick this up tomorrow."

As the two of them began making their way back, the trees rustling gently in the night breeze, they were suddenly halted by the sight of Vice Commander Alda emerging from the shadows. Her presence, as usual, was both commanding and calm.

"Alda?" Zalthor asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing out here?"

The Vice Commander didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Both of you are summoned by Commander Thorian. He wants to see you immediately."

Nizara and Zalthor exchanged a curious glance before nodding. "Let's go," Zalthor said, gesturing for Nizara to follow.

When they arrived at the Attack Force HQ, the atmosphere was tense. The halls were quieter than usual, but the air buzzed with anticipation. They made their way to Commander Thorian's office, where he sat at his desk, his expression serious but with a hint of excitement in his eyes.

"I've been considering something for a while now," Thorian began, locking his gaze onto both Nizara and Zalthor. "After recent events, it's clear that the two of you have unique strengths. It's time to make use of them more effectively."

Nizara tilted his head slightly. "What are you getting at?"

"I want to form a new squad," Thorian said, leaning forward. "A squad where Zalthor will serve as captain. It'll be a team that focuses on honing young talent, while also being ready to handle specific missions tailored to your strengths. Nizara, you'll be the first member."

Zalthor crossed his arms, intrigued. "Our own squad, huh? Who else would be joining us?"

Commander Thorian gave a small smile. "I've handpicked three new recruits that I believe will complement both of you well. They've shown exceptional promise during their training, and I think they'll be perfect additions." He then turned towards the door and called out, "You three, come in."

The door creaked open as three figures entered the room, each stepping forward confidently.

First was Lucien, a tall and lean young man with sharp features and an intense look in his deep blue eyes. His aura was calm and calculating, giving off the vibe of someone who prefers to think two steps ahead in every situation. "Lucien specializes in Terra Aether," Thorian explained. "He's highly skilled at manipulating the earth around him, using it both defensively and offensively with precision."

Next was Zyra, a fierce-looking girl with wild red hair and a fiery glint in her golden eyes. She radiated energy, her posture ready for action at any moment. "Zyra wields Flame Aether. Her fiery nature matches her abilities perfectly, and she's known for her aggressive combat style."

Finally, there was Elowyn, a quiet and serene girl with flowing silver hair and pale violet eyes that seemed to see right through people. Despite her reserved demeanor, there was a palpable strength in her presence. "Elowyn uses Aqua Aether," Thorian continued. "She excels in controlling water in all its forms, making her a versatile fighter and an invaluable support."

Nizara eyed the trio carefully, taking in their potential. They were clearly still new to the battlefield, but there was no doubt they had talent.

Thorian rose from his seat and walked around the desk, standing before the assembled group. "This squad will be known as Squad Z," he declared. "The squads in our forces are divided by three levels. Squads named with letters are the newer and lower-tier squads, meant for warriors who are still finding their footing. Squads named by colors—like the Black Squad that Nizara has worked with—are more experienced and carry out high-priority missions. And then there are the squads named by numbers. They represent the elite—the strongest and most seasoned warriors in the kingdom."

Zalthor nodded, absorbing the information. "So, we'll be starting at the bottom."

"For now," Thorian confirmed. "But if you prove yourselves, there's no limit to how far Squad Z can rise."

Nizara grinned. "Sounds like a challenge."

Zyra cracked her knuckles with a smirk. "I like challenges."

Lucien remained composed, but there was a glint in his eyes that showed he was eager to test his skills. "Let's see what we're capable of."

Elowyn gave a small nod, her calm expression unwavering. "I'll do my best."

Thorian stepped back and crossed his arms. "This is the beginning of something new. You'll have to earn your place, prove your strength, and work together if you want to climb the ranks. But remember, this squad isn't just about power. It's about strategy, trust, and growth. I'm expecting great things from all of you."

The group shared determined glances, each of them feeling the weight of the responsibility and opportunity before them.

Nizara's excitement bubbled beneath the surface as he thought about the challenges that lay ahead. His strange powers were still a mystery, but now, with a team at his side and Zalthor as their captain, he was more than ready to face whatever came next.

*To Be Continued…*