A BORDER CLOSE TO SOUTH

  The carriage rattles along the dusty road. One horse. One driver. Inside—K.B, Patience, Sillyo.

  Sillyo folds her arms.

  “Master, you joined a gang and didn’t tell me?”

  K.B doesn’t look at her. “I didn’t want you dragged into it.”

  “And you’re not dragged?” she snaps. “You left me with my dad for months. That’s how you treat someone who trusts you?”

  Patience snorts. “You’re dramatic. A man like K.B wouldn’t marry you anyway.”

  Sillyo grabs her collar. “Say that again.”

  “Sillyo.”

  K.B’s voice isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be.

  She releases Patience.

  “Whatever happens at the border,” K.B says evenly, “you follow my lead. No losing control.”

  Her jaw tightens.

  “…Yes, Master.”

  The carriage slows.

  Ahead—fighters. Swords. Rifles. Dust and suspicion.

  One of them leans toward the captain. “If they’re women, don’t waste them. The samari’s bar could use new faces.”

  The captain chuckles and steps forward.

  “Stop the carriage.”

  The door opens.

  K.B steps down first. Patience and Sillyo follow.

  A blade lifts toward his throat.

  “Who are you?”

  “Travelers,” K.B answers. “Heading south.”

  “No one crosses. Turn around.”

  K.B nods once. “Is there a lawful way through?”

  Laughter breaks out.

  The captain’s eyes slide to Sillyo. “How old are you, girl?”

  “Sillyo,” K.B murmurs.

  She forces it out. “Seventeen.”

  The captain grins. “Pretty. Leave them. You and the driver can go.”

  He gestures toward Patience. “This one can be my—”

  He doesn’t finish.

  Sillyo’s kick snaps his jaw sideways. He drops.

  Silence.

  Then steel lifts.

  “Sillyo,” K.B says, disappointed.

  “They were going to take us,” she fires back.

  The men advance.

  K.B steps forward.

  “Listen carefully,” he says, voice calm but carrying. “We reason first. If you don’t raise a hand, neither will we.”

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  A guard lunges.

  K.B moves.

  Precise. Controlled. Efficient.

  One down. Two. Three.

  No rage. No cruelty.

  When the dust settles, the guards are breathing—but unconscious.

  Patience exhales. “They were threatening us. Why not strike first?”

  K.B wipes his knuckles on a cloth.

  “Because once you cross that line without cause, you become the problem. We escalate only when there’s no other path.”

  He looks at Sillyo.

  “You hit before he finished.”

  “He was insulting us.”

  “Yes.”

  A beat.

  “But words aren’t blades.”

  She looks away.

  The carriage rolls forward.

  MAMI SHALLOW’S RESIDENTS — CENTRE CITY

  Cold water hits Daisy’s face.

  She wakes with a gasp.

  For a moment she doesn’t remember.

  Then she does.

  Antar.

  Her chest tightens. The grief is still there. It hasn’t softened.

  Mami Shallow crouches beside her.

  “I’m your teacher,” Mami says. “Stand.”

  Daisy tries. Her legs tremble. She drops back down.

  “I need to find Uddin.”

  “You won’t help anyone weak,” Mami replies. Not harsh. Just true.

  Daisy looks past her.

  Nathan. Satan. Salion.

  All in matching pajamas.

  “…Why are they dressed like that?”

  Mami shrugs lightly. “Training in discomfort builds awareness.”

  Daisy frowns. “I’m not wearing that.”

  “Fine.”

  Mami tilts her head. “Your father’s weapon is ready.”

  “I’m not inheriting it.”

  Mami studies her.

  “Understood.”

  No argument. No pressure.

  “If that weapon isn’t yours, we’ll find one that is.”

  Daisy blinks. Surprised.

  “You’re not forcing it?”

  “I’m not training a puppet.”

  A pause.

  “I am angry at Jager too,” Mami adds quietly. “But anger won’t make you stronger.”

  Daisy swallows.

  “When do we start?”

  “When you’re ready.”

  Behind them, Satan claps.

  A weak vortex forms around her hands.

  “Mami, I’m doing it!”

  Mami moves.

  Satan is slammed into the wall.

  “You’re still in stage one,” Mami says. “Control before spectacle.”

  She walks away.

  Daisy watches.

  Then stands again.

  “Teach me.”

  This time her voice doesn’t shake.

  OMAHA'S STREET— SOUTH

  The carriage stops.

  Heat shimmers over clean stone streets.

  The South is alive—orderly, purposeful.

  K.B pays the driver.

  They step into the crowd.

  Inside a rented room, K.B sits.

  “Sillyo. How do we find Mary?”

  “Human Rights office,” she answers immediately.

  “Good.”

  They go.

  Inside the building—organized movement, quiet authority.

  Sillyo steps in too fast.

  Two guards block her.

  She drops them before they blink.

  Guns rise.

  A figure appears in a flash—hat tilted, movements sharp.

  They clash.

  Fast. Technical. Neither landing clean.

  The figure draws a gun.

  Before the shot—

  A hand removes it.

  K.B stands there.

  Time feels slowed.

  Weapons fall from other hands.

  The room stills.

  The fighter spins—

  “Mary,” Patience says softly.

  The figure freezes.

  Turns.

  “…Patience?”

  Recognition breaks across her face.

  “That’s my sister,” Mary says to the others.

  Silence.

  Relief.

  K.B steps back, giving space.

  Minutes later, Patience exits smiling through tears.

  “They trained her. She’s strong.”

  K.B’s smirk fades into something quieter.

  “It seems our mission is complete.”

  He pulls Patience closer, lowering his voice.

  “Stay with your sister. Don’t come back. You’ll be safer here.”

  Patience’s chin dips. Her lashes tremble.

  “But I’ll miss Shion…”

  K.B taps her head lightly.

  “Shion walks a different road. So do you.”

  A beat.

  “The South is building something real. Let them shape you. Don’t waste that.”

  Her fingers curl into his sleeve before she forces herself to let go.

  He turns to Sillyo.

  “And you.”

  Her eyes are already glossy.

  “Join Patience. Fight for something that lasts.”

  Her composure shatters.

  “No.” She shakes her head hard. “No, Master. I love you. I’m not a child forever. I’ll grow up. I’ll stand beside you.”

  People nearby slow their steps. The air tightens.

  K.B exhales.

  He steps closer, lowering his voice so only she can hear.

  “Your father entrusted you to me. Not to drag you into a grave.”

  “I don’t care!” she snaps, fists trembling. “I’ll protect you!”

  A silence stretches between them.

  He cups her cheek.

  “You protecting me was never the plan.”

  Her breathing breaks.

  “Then let me choose you.”

  That lands heavier.

  He studies her — not amused, not dismissing.

  Just weighing.

  “…If you stay,” he says slowly, “and grow stronger than you are now — not for me, not out of obsession — but because you believe in what they’re building here…”

  He pauses.

  “…Then I’ll come back.”

  Her eyes widen. Hope flares fast and dangerous.

  “You mean—?”

  “Yes.”

  He doesn’t smile when he says it.

  She throws her arms around him again, fierce and possessive, like if she loosens her grip he’ll disappear.

  He lets her hold on longer this time.

  One breath.

  Two.

  Three.

  Then he gently removes her hands.

  “I don’t have time,” he says. Not harsh. Just true. “Go inside. Ask for recruitment.”

  Patience moves first, steadying herself.

  Sillyo lingers, eyes locked on him, memorizing.

  “Don’t die,” she says.

  “I won’t.”

  It’s not a promise. It’s a statement.

  They step into the building.

  K.B stands there until the door closes behind them.

  The noise of the South swallows the silence.

  He doesn’t grin.

  He doesn’t congratulate himself.

  He just turns — and walks.

  Toward the Centre City, for the upcoming battles that awaits there.