The room was dimly lit, a single flickering lantern casting long shadows across the walls. Commander Ryker sat at the head of a sturdy oak table, leaning back in his chair. Before him lay a collection of reports, hastily written observations from his men about the performance of each kalthok during the first test. The names stared back at him, their strengths and flaws etched in ink.
Althair. Retah. Ergor.
He frowned. The first test had been grueling but necessary. Some of the kalthok had shown promise, but others had proven to be a liability. Ryker rubbed his temples, his mind weighing the cost of what had to come next.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter," he barked.
One of his aides stepped inside, saluting sharply. "Commander, the kalthok are recovering in the barracks. Your orders?"
Ryker didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the reports. "Look at this."
The aide stepped forward, picking up a few sheets. As he skimmed them, Ryker continued, his voice sharp and deliberate.
"Althair has potential—sharp mind, quick reflexes—but he's too easily influenced. A leader can't afford to waver every time someone questions them. Retah is loyal, I'll give him that, but loyalty without skill is useless. And Ergor…" Ryker's lip curled. "He's the worst of the lot. Weak. Unfocused. He'll crumble at the first real challenge."
The aide nodded, setting the papers down. "What do you want to do with them, sir?"
Ryker's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "We can't let them go back into society. If word gets out about the kalthok, the king's plans—and mine—will fall apart. They'll talk. Maybe not intentionally, but they will. And if they're useless to us here…"
The aide shifted uncomfortably. "You want to—?"
Ryker cut him off. "No. Not yet. Killing them outright would be a waste. But they need to be removed. Permanently."
A heavy silence filled the room as the weight of Ryker's words settled. The aide cleared his throat. "What do you have in mind, sir?"
Ryker leaned forward, his eyes cold. "A test. Something that forces them to make a choice: loyalty to the kalthok, to their survival—or their humanity."
The aide frowned, unsure. "How would that work?"
Ryker smirked, the edge of cruelty in his expression. "We'll set up a situation. A 'failure.' Althair, Retah, Ergor—they'll be tasked with handling it. But here's the twist: to succeed, they'll have to betray someone. Not just anyone, though. Someone they've started to care about."
The aide's eyes widened. "You're going to make them turn on each other?"
Ryker nodded. "Precisely. I want to see what's stronger—their bonds or their loyalty to the mission. If they hesitate, they're not cut out for this. If they pass…" He paused, his gaze hardening. "Then they're one step closer to being what we need them to be."
The aide hesitated. "And if they fail?"
Ryker's tone was icy. "Then they'll be dealt with. Quietly."
---
Later that evening, Ryker called a private meeting with his top four: Tobias, Mukt, Shera, and Elair. They entered the room one by one, each of them weary but alert.
"What's this about?" Tobias asked, his voice steady.
Ryker didn't answer immediately. Instead, he motioned for them to sit. Once they were settled, he spoke, his tone measured.
"The first test was simple. Physical endurance. Anyone can walk until their legs give out. But the next test will be different. It's not about strength. It's about choice."
Shera leaned forward, her brow furrowing. "Choice?"
Ryker nodded. "You've all noticed the ones who lag behind. The ones who aren't cut out for this. They weaken the group, and in the field, weakness gets people killed. The next test will determine who deserves to stay—and who doesn't."
Elair raised an eyebrow, his trademark smirk faltering. "So, what? We vote people off the team like it's some game?"
Ryker's gaze pinned him in place. "This isn't a game. It's survival. And sometimes, survival means making hard decisions."
Mukt tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing as she watched Ryker. She tapped her fingers against the table, a silent question in her movements.
Tobias spoke for her. "You're asking us to be executioners, aren't you?"
Ryker didn't flinch. "I'm asking you to lead. Leaders make the hard calls. This test isn't just for them—it's for you, too. To see if you have what it takes to put the mission above everything else."
Shera's jaw tightened, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the table. "And if we refuse?"
Ryker's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Then you've already failed."
The room fell into silence. Each of them exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the task settling heavily on their shoulders.
Elair was the first to break it, leaning back with a forced grin. "Well, this just got interesting."
Tobias shot him a glare. "This isn't a joke."
"Never said it was," Elair replied, his tone serious despite the smile. "But it's not like we have a choice, do we?"
Mukt tapped her fingers again, this time more rapidly. Tobias sighed, interpreting her unspoken question. "She's asking what the task is."
Ryker's smirk returned. "You'll find out tomorrow."
With that, he dismissed them, leaving the four to grapple with the weight of his words. As they stepped out into the cold night air, Tobias turned to the others.
"This isn't right," he said quietly.
Shera nodded. "But it's the reality we've been thrown into. We can't change it. All we can do is survive."
Elair glanced at Mukt, who remained silent but resolute. "What about you?"
Mukt stared at him for a moment, then raised her hand and gestured toward the barracks where the others slept. Her meaning was clear: They don't know what's coming. We do.
Tobias exhaled slowly. "And that's the problem."
As they walked back to their quarters, each of them carried the weight of the next day's test—and the knowledge that Ryker had forced them onto a path they could never turn back from.