The theater was left behind.
What followed was sweat, falls, blood — and discovery.
Kael crafted the training list with military precision.
It would be intense. He would oversee every step himself.
No exceptions. No favors.
Lessons began at first light in the base's training hall, a stone-floored chamber with worn mirrors and dark panels lining the walls.
---
Hand-to-hand combat.
Kael taught ancient, efficient techniques — drawn from martial arts long forgotten, some adapted from lineages that only existed in alternate Earths.
He quickly discovered that Nikita needed no introduction.
Silent, disciplined, her movements flowed with frightening precision.
— Where did you learn that? — Kael asked one day after watching her drop Marie with a flawless sequence.
— Before there were words, — she replied. — Only the body spoke.
---
Bladed weapons.
Knives. Swords. Daggers.
Reina and Patricia showed steady hands, adapting quickly.
Claudia preferred short blades. Constança handled long swords with elegance.
Marie, meanwhile, danced with the saber in hand.
---
Firearms.
Kael taught with patience. The focus was precision and control, not power.
Elizabeth stood out — her background as an archaeologist had trained her in weight, balance, and careful pressure. She understood the mechanics instinctively.
---
Lock-picking. Safe-cracking.
These sessions took place in the mechanism chamber, a dim annex filled with League devices and constructs.
Helena showed a natural talent. Claudia too.
It was as if some of them had carried this knowledge long before awakening.
---
Human behavior. Looting. Observation. Camouflage.
These lessons were held in the library and the inner gardens, where they learned to move unseen, to read subtle expressions, to act without sound.
Reina, Marie, and Constança stood out for their instinct and grace.
Kael observed everything — each breakthrough, each hesitation, each emerging strength.
---
By day, discipline ruled.
By night, they gathered in the bar or entertainment rooms.
They played old games, told stories, laughed.
For the first time in many years, Kael allowed himself to stay.
Not as a commander. But as someone… present.
---
No jumps were made that year.
Kael declined missions.
The League did not protest.
He knew: that time was needed.
To build — not just to prepare.
---
Before the end of that cycle, he brought the witches to Crucelas — a dense, mist-veiled valley to the north of the base, where old energetic currents ran beneath the stone.
A place of deep silences and unspoken answers.
The witches felt the pull.
Helena wept. Nikita closed her eyes and stood still for hours.
Elizabeth traced symbols in the air with her fingers, as if already knowing she would return one day.
---
That night, as they walked back to the base, Kael watched them moving ahead, talking softly.
And thought:
Now it begins. Something is ready.