Broken heart of a warrior

Chapter 3

The drive from the Academy to the small Siberian airport was long and silent, broken only by the low hum of the SUV's engine and the crunch of snow under the tires. Outside, the frozen wilderness stretched endlessly—forests like frozen sentinels, rivers locked under sheets of ice, and mountains jagged and gray against the pale sky. The cold pressed against the windows, biting at her skin despite the heater, and Alina's thoughts drifted unbidden to a memory she rarely allowed herself.

Flashback

It had been one night, three years ago, when she'd tried to run. The Academy's walls were nearly invisible in the darkness, but the fences and patrols were merciless. She remembered the icy wind slicing across her face, each gust threatening to knock her off her feet as she scrambled over snow-covered rocks. Her boots slipped on frozen streams, sending her tumbling, scraping skin against ice and stone. Her hands were raw, bleeding, and numb all at once, and her lungs burned with every desperate gasp.

She'd heard the shouts behind her, the boots of the guards crunching over snow. Fear had sharpened everything—her senses, her reflexes, the sting of the cold. She had made it to the edge of the forest, thinking the trees could hide her, but the wind carried her scent, and the darkness betrayed her. The Academy was relentless; no one escaped. She had been caught at the tree line, dragged back by cold, iron grips, frostbitten and shivering, her plans dissolving into snowflakes carried away by the Siberian wind.

Even now, years later, the memory made her chest tighten. The vastness outside the car window felt like both a freedom she'd once reached for and a trap she had failed to escape.

Axel glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Not much to see out here, but it's impressive in its own way," he said.

"Impressive, yes... but unforgiving," Alina replied softly, her eyes fixed on the frozen expanse, imagining again how thin the line between survival and defeat had been.

The airport emerged like a tiny island in the wilderness—one runway, a few hangars, and a single terminal. The pilot greeted them with professional courtesy, but Master said nothing, his gaze already sharp and alert. Blade and Miri flanked him instinctively, while Alina and Axel moved quietly behind.

"I hope the turbulence isn't too bad," she murmured as they boarded the small plane.

"Relax," Axel said, a faint smile touching his lips. "This pilot knows his skies."

The plane lifted off, the Siberian night falling away beneath them. Rivers glinted silver in the dim moonlight, forests stretched like frozen shadows, and the mountains receded into darkness. Alina gripped the edge of her seat, remembering the raw cold of the Academy, the wind biting at her skin, and the icy taste of desperation that had once driven her to run. The memory made her pulse quicken, not with fear this time, but with the grim focus of someone who had survived it—and would survive whatever came next.

We finally arrived in America after a grueling plane ride, battered by turbulence that seemed determined to test our nerves. The claustrophobia of being trapped in a metal tube with nothing but air beneath us gnawed at everyone, but we all drew strength from Master's calm presence. As we moved toward the airport exit, people instinctively recoiled. Some pointed, some whispered, some cursed under their breath, trying desperately to hide their disgust. Even security officers skirted around us, wary. Everyone knew better than to approach. We answered to no one, sought permission from no one, and hated being interrupted on our missions.

Blade and Miri led the way, Master walked in the center, and Axel and I brought up the rear. Our role was simple: protect Master at all costs. A Warrior's aura naturally repels others; it's in our blood, woven into our nature. Those brave—or foolish—enough to come close often claimed to feel a dark vibration in the room, an unsettling weight that followed us wherever we went. At the airport, it was easy to see: people shifted out of our path, whispered behind cupped hands, and glanced at us with a mix of awe and fear. Some even tried to hide fleeting admiration for our appearance. If they only knew the darkness beneath the beauty, they would flee screaming.