Page 68 of Green Ravens

“Zorion’s hands are his greatest weapon. It’d be wise not to weigh them down with artillery.”

Valor turned and left the room, and Zorion wanted to race after him, fall to his knees again, and show his appreciation, but instead, he went and dressed in his new suit.

It was tailored for him and created for high performance. The lightweight cotton fabric with the discreet armor plating was surprisingly comfortable.

His hood was made of anti-reflective material that concealed most of his face but didn’t compromise his vision. The coloring was a gradient of deep forest and olive greens, designed for integration into their natural environment, perfect for an unseen predator that could strike without warning.

Zorion met Valor in the center of the room just as the overhead lights dimmed. The arena became a space of darkened panels, alternating simulated environments, and holographic projections as he leaped up and took to the beams and rafters.

Valor’s performance was best described as lethal precision.

His knives sliced the projections into halves almost as fast as they’d appeared. Like himself, he was sure Valor was feelingthe looming presence of the director and the pressure from the demand for perfection.

Watching Valor was devastating. It was as if he were fighting for their survival. The destruction of phase three loomed, so Valor roared through simulated foes, merciless and brutal.

This was not the same man he’d surrendered to last night.

The memory of Valor’s tender touch, the warmth of his skin and words, contrasted with the ruthlessness he displayed on the makeshift battlefield and made Zorion’s soul ache.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as the training session escalated to drones and mobile targets with complex algorithms calibrated to challenge their enhanced abilities.

He and Valor were both winded but not to the point of exhaustion when the lights flickered back on and the warehouse faded to eerie silence.

“That’s a wrap for today,” Cipher yelled, clapping enthusiastically. “Great job, team!”

Their handler’s voice lacked genuine warmth. Instead, it was laden with cunning greed as he turned toward them.

“Holy shit! You guys are gonna make me the best-known handler in the world. Famous for orchestrating the kills of Valor and Zorion.” He grinned. “I’ll be somebodyno onewants to cross.”

Valor advanced on Cipher, his body rigid as he loomed over him.

“I wouldn’t get so excited, Cipher,” Valor growled. “Because, in this game, you’re onlywell-known after you’re dead. So careful, maybe one day, I will make you infamous.”

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

After they’d changed out of their combat attire, he and Zorion were escorted out of the facility.

Ren approached them with a smile too blasé for the rigor they’d just endured. “I arranged for your dinners to be served on the terrace in your dining facility.”

Neither answered as they redirected their steps toward the opposite hall. Valor didn’t care where he went as long as Zorion was close to him.

They sat at a round table under a violet sky away from relentless surveillance.

The cool air was welcome on his warm skin, and even the distant hum of the world beyond their captivity didn’t bother him. Valor was just glad their day was over…and they were alone.

A silent staff of three served their meal with their heads bowed and eyes averted as if it was a punishable offense to look at them.

“Thank you,” Zorion whispered when his glass was filled with water.

The server let out a brisk exhale before he nodded and hurried away.

“They probably assume we’ve already been put through phase three,” Valor said, stabbing at his lamb chops. “I’d be nervous around soulless men too.”

Valor got lost in staring at Zorion, watching the unguarded expressions that crossed his face. He wanted to comfort him, allow him to sink inside him to relieve the tension radiating off him like heat from desert sand.

They ate to the sounds of nocturnal birds and crickets chirping and the occasional clank of their cutlery.

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