Kirunax
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Chapter 27
🕑 Added 2025-07-27 23:57:33 +0000 UTC“Thank you all for attending this meeting,” I said, addressing the assembled Wards ENE team.
We had gathered in the Wards training area purpose-built for powered combat—no sharp edges, no corners to clip your skull on during a fall, and steel-reinforced walls to catch anything that might otherwise blast through drywall.
In the center, the sparring ring was marked by colored squares layered one inside the other—basic, but functional.
The Wards stood in a loose semicircle: Dean, Dennis, Chris, Missy, even Sophia. Carlos stood beside me, and Shirou was in the back, leaning on the wall. All of them in full costume, each giving varying degrees of attention to my words.
“What’s this about?” Dennis asked.
“This, Dennis, is the first Wards group training session that I’m hoping to make a regular thing.”
My brother and Carlos already knew what I had in mind, but I needed to explain it again for everyone else’s benefit.
“What do you mean? We already have group training on the regular.”
“We do. However, what I have in mind is a little different.”
Group training for the Wards typically meant running through fitness routines and maybe some sparring.
It wasn’t a very effective use of their time. The Wards’ regulations in that regard were shockingly lax—essentially, the only requirement was a level of fitness equivalent to getting an ‘A’ in school gym class.
Being a healthy and physically active teenager was all the program demanded.
Which, in my opinion, was woefully insufficient.
What about small unit tactics? Where were the drills for urban warfare? The training for maintaining cohesion under fire? Where was the crisis response, the psychological stress inoculation, the failure recovery? A hundred other things that could mean the difference between life and death?
At this point, it wasn’t even about being an effective unit—it was about survival.
Gallant’s performance during the Krieg engagement was—charitably—barely adequate. The senior Ward had distracted some of the mob, sure, but I had to keep an eye on him the entire time to ensure he wasn’t overwhelmed. One slip-up and he’d have been down.
Things only went as smoothly as they did because Shirou and I had good teamwork. My brother handled pressure well and could seamlessly swap roles with me when Krieg showed a modicum of tactical sense and went after someone without a counter to his protective field.
Had Shirou been less capable, we might have lost Gallant.
Who, by contrast, looked like someone flung into combat and told to wing it. Because that’s exactly what happened.
I gave Dean a few encouraging words, but truthfully, I wasn’t impressed.
It only really hit me when Chris mentioned that training with Shirou was the most brutal training he’d ever done.
I was baffled. Sure, my brother didn’t pull his punches, but our routine wasn’t that hard—basic combat simulation, fitness drills, and CQC.
Yet compared to the Wards’ actual routine? It was advanced.
Thinking about it further, though, and analyzing the Wards’ typical routine, I realized the program was overly focused on safe power usage, arrest procedure, command hierarchy, comms discipline, bureaucracy, and—most critically—public image.
Combat preparation? Virtually nonexistent.
It was the PR training that led me to the answer to that particular puzzle once I saw the broader picture. Namely, that the PRT went to great lengths to avoid creating the impression that the Wards were child soldiers.
It wasn’t an arbitrary decision, but the result of public sentiment and a lost lawsuit, which imposed legal restrictions on how the Wards program could operate.
In essence, it boiled down to the idea that every Ward was a child, and children were supposed to have rich and happy childhoods—as defined by concerned adults, of course.
The sort of adults who attend PTA meetings and vote in school board elections. The same adults who thought letting kids wear spandex and punch gang members was fine—so long as they didn’t have weapons and smiled for the cameras.
In practice, the system seemed more focused on protecting parental rights and their authority over children.
Just listening to Missy talk about her home life made it obvious. Her home life was clearly abusive—hardly the environment for healthy development.
Reading between the lines, I concluded that her trigger event was a direct result of her parents’ actions. A girl used as leverage in a spiteful divorce that even included poisoning dogs? That tracked. Losing beloved pets to your own parents would be traumatic for any child.
And nobody lifter a finger. The same Youth Guard representative who was supposed to protect her demanded she returned there again and again.
Meanwhile, they had the gall to impose restrictions on training, all in the name of “well-being.”
Although, I wasn’t fully convinced by the theory that trigger events leave permanent psychological wounds. Getting attacked by the screaming mob of clones during a parahuman brawl was awful, sure—but Shirou bounced back in days if not hours. From a holding cell, no less.
Then again, my brother was someone who could lose all his caretakers at the ripe age of eight, and then just roll up his sleeves to raise and provide for a younger sibling.
So maybe it was an unfair comparison.
Regardless, where Youth Guard would not risk to alienate supporters by taking children from abusive households, they would jealously guard and maintain their power by imposing restrictions of the PRT through judicial rulings.
That explained the lack of adequate training. It wasn’t incompetency on the part of the PRT. The reason was that one of the Youth Gurad’s key mandates was to ensure the Wards program never resembled a boot camp in any way.
‘Safe and healthy environment’ my ass.
It didn’t escape my notice that while Youth Guard was tasked with ensuring the ‘well-being’ of the Wards, their actual survival was left to the PRT.
Their obsession with appearances only raised the risk to the very kids they were meant to protect. The PRT was neutered but had to keep them alive, yet the system won’t let them train the kids to survive.
Insanity.
But I was nothing if not adept at going around regulations. If the PRT couldn’t bake proper training into its rules, that didn’t mean the training couldn’t happen.
You just had to know where to place the loopholes.
In fact, I suspected that was how the Protectorate handled it—when civilian oversight prevented formal policy, they likely leaned on personal mentorship.
It’s what I would have done in their place.
In other cities, Wards typically apprenticed under Protectorate heroes. That didn’t happen in Brockton Bay.
Under Armsmaster’s leadership, I bet there had been real training regimens. The man was a machine. It defied logic that he’d tolerate underperforming subordinates.
Unfortunately, no one on the current Wards roster had been around back then.
These days, the team was directly under Director Piggot’s management. Technically, they always were, but now the distinction was more than administrative.
In my view, it was a practical decision. There weren’t enough hours in a day for Armsmaster to juggle both programs given the inhuman pressure of his schedule. At that point it wasn’t even about reasonable workload—it was about pushing the boundaries of space and time.
Miss Militia could have filled the role, but maybe someone in the PRT agreed with my assessment of the woman.
Plus, putting Piggot in direct control cut through the potential mess of overlapping authority—no more risk of conflicting orders between Protectorate and PRT brass.
Of course, the change came with a cost: the team lost access to their unofficial combat instruction.
Which brought us here.
“In case it escaped your notice, this team currently lacks any form of coordinated unit doctrine. Right now, our only approach to group fighting follows vague guidelines based on power classifications—melee in front, ranged in back. Or worse, everyone picks their favorite villain and plays one-on-one. We lack coordination. We lack experience fighting as unit. We lack cohesion. Quite frankly, this team’s combat effectiveness is dangerously low.”
That earned a few stiffened backs and defensive expressions.
Perfect. Tension meant attention.
I continued, voice clinical: “Team training is not mutual calisthenics followed by awkward sparring. It’s the inculcation of cohesion. Mental resilience. Tactical adaptability. Drills until response becomes instinct.”
Clockblocker raised a hand half-heartedly. “So, uh... boot camp?”
Yes.
“Absolutely not,” I denied immediately. “This is nothing like a boot camp. We are strictly adhering to the judicial ruling of 1996 that forbids boot camp conditions for Wards. These are simply after-school team-building exercises. Fun, enriching, sanctioned bonding experiences. Nothing else.”
That earned a few weird looks. I didn’t care—deniability was a must.
“To be a truly formidable team, every member must be able to substitute for a squadmate at a moment’s notice. You know your role. You know theirs. You anticipate. You support. You adapt. And when the enemy comes screaming out of the smoke, no one panics.”
I let my gaze fall on Gallant, who shifted uncomfortably. Missy was paying close attention now. Carlos as well.
“That’s why Carlos and I have put together a training plan,” I said, nodding toward him. “It’s designed to turn this team into something that can survive any ordeal.”
“Wow, Carlos,” Dennis said dryly. “Didn’t know you were into ‘cohesion inculcation’. Who hurt you?”
“Shut up.”
Shadow Stalker snorted.
“Oh please. You think running drills is going to fix what’s wrong with these clowns?”
My eyes darted to Shirou for a second. That phrasing...
“You want them to be soldiers?” she laughed, short and sharp. “They’re sheep.”
I didn’t blink. “Thank you for volunteering.”
Sophia blinked. “The hell I did.”
Her resistance to training was expected. When I first proposed the idea to Carlos, he immediately pointed out that Sophia would be impossible to convince.
The girl was too arrogant and too prickly for her own good. Back in the Empire, soldiers like her often got fragged by their own squad. Not necessarily because of their attitude—though that didn’t help—but because they were dangerous liabilities. The kind that made others start doing risk-reward calculations.
Granted, parahuman law enforcement was a more forgiving environment than the Great War. But still.
Fortunately, I had ample experience dealing with her type. With any luck, I could avoid having to write a heartfelt eulogy for Shadow Stalker.
“Your skepticism makes you an ideal test case. You think you’re strong enough on your own? Then prove it. Spar with me. If you win, I’ll let you walk. If I win, you shut up and participate.”
Sophia hesitated. Her eyes flicked—briefly—to Shirou. Then to the rest of the team, all watching her closely. She clenched her jaw.
“Fine!” she spat. “Don’t go crying to your big brother when you lose, brat.”
“I assure you, Sophia,” I said calmly, “I’m quite capable of fighting my own battles—and I’m not in the habit of dealing in bad faith. If you win, then I was wrong.
As the challenged party, you get to set the rules of engagement.”
“What is this, an honor duel?” Dennis muttered under his breath.
Sophia crossed her arms. “Powers and weapons, all in.”
“Absolutely not!” Dean objected at once.
“Stay out of this, pussy.”
“No! I don’t care if you can phase out—Tanya’s Striker power is instakill.”
“She won’t touch me.”
“I agree with Dean, Stalker,” Carlos cut in. “I’m not explaining to Piggot why you’re missing a leg or why Tanya’s got a dart in her eye. If you want to fight, do it unarmed.”
“How about a compromise?” I suggested. “Shirou will provide you with blunt bolts for your crossbows. I’ll refrain from using Mage Blade. For fairness, I won’t even use barrier formulas.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “So you can blame the loss on holding back? Pass. Use your damn forcefields. They won’t stop me.”
“As you wish.”
Shirou conjured a magazine of modified bolts in seconds. I noticed Sophia whisper something to him—he just shrugged.
With that, we entered the Wards’ sparring ring.
Sophia pulled on her mask. The stern, emotionless woman’s face looked nothing like hers—which, of course, was the point. I couldn’t imagine her managing that kind of cold contempt herself. Too hotheaded.
Carlos gave the signal. Neither of us moved. Sophia was sizing me up—maybe trying to intimidate me.
I waited.
When she lunged, cloak trailing, she was fast. Credit where it’s due—her arrogance wasn’t entirely baseless.
According to Shirou, she was the most capable fighter on the team, excluding the two of us. Not just due to skill, but because of her sheer viciousness and willingness to hurt.
I hadn’t seen her fight until now, but I trusted Shirou’s judgment.
Still—a straight charge?
Disappointing.
She shifted into her shadow form the moment she reached striking range.
And dropped shrieking a heartbeat later.
The Wards erupted—Carlos and Dean swearing as they ran in, Dennis let out a whistle, and Missy... was grinning like it was her birthday.
Missy, you aren’t on combat stimulants. Violence should elicit such a response from little girls.
Dean called for a medkit. I sighed.
“Relax. I’ve got this,” I said, kneeling beside Sophia’s curled-up form. I pressed my hands to her midsection and began repairing the muscle damage in her abdomen.
“What the fuck happened?” Carlos demanded once Sophia’s screaming stopped.
I let a small arc of electricity flicker from a loose strand of hair.
“One of my formulas generates electric current.”
Dennis let out a thoughtful hum. “And since Stalker’s Breaker state is weak to electricity...”
“She never stood a chance,” Missy added brightly.
“Fuck... you.” Sophia rasped painfully. “This... means nothing. You caught... me off-guard. Exploited a glitch in my power. You think that makes you... better than me? A predator? You’re just prey with sharp teeth.”
Again with her juvenile predators-prey nonsense?
“I don’t consider myself any kind of predator, Sophia. I believe, you’re confusing instinct with discipline. Predators rely on instinct. Soldiers rely on training. One survives a forest. The other survives a war. I know where true strength lies, and know what I would rather be.”
There, maybe pathos and deep sounding words will get through the teenage angst and make the girl stop wanting to be an animal. At least Shirou’s the kind of chuuni that makes up cool words instead proselytizing poorly understood surface level Darwinism.
“Tanya, that was dangerous,” Carlos interjected, tight-lipped. “In her Breaker state, Stalker takes way more damage from electricity than normal.”
“I’ve studied her file in detail. The amperage I used was well under the maximum threshold from testing. Her reaction was so pronounced only because it was applied to sensitive tissue. I made sure the current only touched the outer edge of her form. That’s why I used my hand. I could’ve waited and triggered the discharge while she passed through me—dealing catastrophic damage to her organs.”
“You could’ve killed her,” Dean whispered.
“Oh, she’s dead.”
That earned me a moment of uncomfortable silence.
“This spar was a simulation of real combat. Sophia engaged an unknown enemy with no backup and was instantly disabled. Given her history of solo patrols and disdain for teamwork, the conclusion is obvious: she’s dead.”
“The Rules...” Carlos began.
“Won’t save you every time,” I cut in. “Conventions are all well and good, but if you plan on a long career, you will eventually run into that one person who doesn’t care or thinks they can get away with crossing the line. Maybe they’ll be punished later, but what does that matter if you’re already dead? Would a villain with electrical powers go to such length to ensure Sophia is only superficially hurt? Would an Empire goon with a taser care to leave her alone after?”
“Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. I believe I have already sufficiently demonstrated the merits of having a squad mates to cover you back and drag you out of the fight in the case of injury. If any of you still harbor the same doubts as Sophia, I will be happy to demonstrate the dangers of lone wolf mentality to each of you personally. Again and again if need be.”
I leaned slightly forward look each of them in the eyes. The movement caused me to accidentally push into Sophia’s abdomen where I had been healing her, making the girl flinch in pain. I silently apologized for my misstep, but didn’t vocalize, unwilling to break the momentum of my speech.
“But I hope that simple self-preservation would be enough of a motivator for you to participate in these exercises.”
Nobody said anything. They’d seen what happened, and knew I was right.
I looked down on Shadow Stalker. With her mask, it was hard to tell if my little demonstration or my words got through to her. It honestly made the girl look like she hated me personally.
Why can she have such a menacing outfit, whereas I have to wear cyberpunk mahō shōjo costume? Does whatever favor she carries with the Director includes costume priviliges? Next to the rest of the Wards with their colorful outfits, Sophia stands out like sore thumb.
So just in case...
“Sophia, I had honestly expected better from you. My brother had expressed a high estimate of your combat abilities. Yet, you didn’t try to test my defenses from a distance, you didn’t try to outlast me by witling down my stock of calculators. Nothing. You just charged in, banking on your superiority. You saw how confident I was and didn’t even pause to wonder why. More than that, you hadn’t even read my file, where my ability to generate electricity is clearly stated. It wouldn’t have changed the outcome, but at least you wouldn’t have made my brother a liar.”
Hopefully, appealing to her ego in public would do what pain couldn’t. Mentioning Shirou might help soften the blow. Let her remember she was respected—once, and now she had to earn it again.
“Use this training as an opportunity to get stronger.”
An invitation to redeem herself.
“Now, I’ll explain how this training session will proceed. To your left,” I pointed at a rack filled with shinai, “you’ll find your weapons.”
“Why would we need weapons? Only Chris and Shirou carry them,” Missy said, tilting her head. “Well... and you with your Azoth Wand?”
I’d prefer she call it a baton or a mace, but Image didn’t like that. I was trying to get used to calling it a wand. Maybe I could convince people it’s a scepter. It was large enough, and ‘scepter’ sounded more dignified.
Also, I had nearly forgotten that Shirou named it after an alchemical concept—universal solvent, if I wasn’t mistaken. Fitting, considering its intended use.
“The exercise is designed to test your ability to stay calm under pressure when facing an overwhelming threat. You’ll be simulating combat against a high-level Brute or Power Nullifier—an enemy immune to your powers. You can only use your abilities defensively. Carlos has his durability. Dennis can freeze his own suit. Missy can control the battlefield. Sophia can phase. That leaves Dean and Chris at a disadvantage—which is intentional. Sometimes your power won’t help. You’ll need to support others, distract, or adapt. Even then, Dean has his armor, and Chris can use his spear instead of a shinai. The shinai represent specialized tinkertech weapons designed to affect the target.”
“And the target is...” Dennis prompted.
“Shirou.”
Chris groaned.
It wasn’t easy to convince my brother to participate, especially given how I couldn’t have used the same argument I did to Sophia. He wasn’t a fool however, so pointing out how the increase in the overall competence of this team raised our own survivability did the trick. I even used statistical data on parahuman mortality rates, as well as the PRT’s curated statistic on the lifespan of independents, pointing out how the lack of sufficient training played its part in their deaths.
Needless to say, that faced with those numbers, his self-preservation instincts won over his antisocial tendencies.
I didn’t exactly use the word ‘meatshields’, since at this age it was more important for Shirou to learn how to make friends. Learning what friends are for will come later.
“I am sorry, are you saying that it’s Shirou versus all of us?”
I simply nodded.
“How is this ‘overwhelming opposition’? You can’t possibly think he can go through all of us?” Dennis asked, incredulous.
“He can.” Chris and Dean said, nearly in sync. They exchanged a glance.
“I’ve been sparring with him for weeks already,” Chris explained. “I don’t know how it would go in real combat, but under these limitations he absolutely can. He barely breaks a sweat bodying me. And that without his Brute power.”
“Ah. Speaking of,” I interjected smoothly, “Carlos, the protocol says that powered combat training between Wards is supposed to be supervised by a member of the Protectorate team. As the most senior Ward well on his way to graduate into said team, do you think you count as a substitute?”
Carlos looked confused. “Is that... actually a rule?”
I frowned. “You aren’t supervised during spars?”
“Not that I remember. Maybe when I was brand new?”
Then why the hell did Miss Militia tell us to always have someone watch when we spar?! She did that herself at first, but then other duties took precedent and she stopped, and we could only have early morning spars when Missy spent nights at the HQ. We were lucky she didn’t mind waking up at half past four!
Was it just for new fresh recruits? But the how come Aegis didn’t know?
“It’s in the handbook, actually. I checked. But it probably hasn’t been revised since the Wards relocated to the PRT HQ.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, we aren’t even in the same part of the city. Well, except whoever’s stationed here on rotation, but they usually have other things to do.”
“Oh well, then Shirou using his Brute power should be fine with all of us here, right? It would really increase the effectiveness of this exercise.”
“I guess,” Carlos shrugged.
Perfect. With everyone present and the team leader’s approval, I was reasonably shielded from whatever Miss Militia had to say about this. In any case, I could just apologize and claim I thought her concerns only applied to our morning spars.
“Alright, come around. The rules are simple. We fight against Shirou until he surrenders. Please note that this session ends only when he surrenders or calls the spar off. We cannot surrender, since this is a simulated spar against an opponent who does not adhere to the Unwritten Rules,” I instructed, while the Wards were gathering in the middle of the room.
When they did, I made sure to put them between myself and approaching Shirou.
“If you are unable to continue, it does not necessarily mean that you are out of the fight. It will be up to the rest of the team to drag you into safety and defend your body. Welcome to the first Wards ENE after-school team building exercise aimed at improving your team work, mental fortitude and pain tolerance!” I announced.
Shirou came in front of us, full costume, helmet on. Brandishing his twin swords.
Chris, Missy and Dean took a few silent steps back, joining me at the rear, leaving Carlos and Dennis in the vanguard. The latter still looked skeptical, while the former looked confident despite my assurances about Shirou’s prowess.
Sophia, still looking somewhat pained, looked at those of us in the back. With a growl, she eventually opted to remain rooted where she was – in the middle of the formation.
“Wait. Pain tolerance?” Dennis blinked and only now noticed how alone he and Carlos were. Turning around, he looked surprised at our positioning.
“Don’t worry, I have a box full of calculators.”
“Right, for your healing,” Dennis’ posture was becoming less and less sure.
He turned to look at Shirou – but mainly his falchions.
“Those are blunted, right?” Dennis asked.
Shirou didn’t respond. Instead, he coiled his muscles, green lines appearing on his skin.
Suddenly, the fake abs didn’t look as ridiculous anymore.
“Come at me with intent to kill.”
Comments
Master Brave
They’re going to be the 203rd come again. They better fuck the undersiders up
Wun Wong
"Why is there music playing in the background? Do you have another power you don't want to elaborate on? Armiger?"
Hunter
I can’t help but hear the theme that plays when Archer is introduced in UBW at the end here. You can practically feel the GAR coming off of him.
Dragonin
and twice the visible eyes!
John Butler
Damn, gonna blue ball us for a week with that ending
aj0413
I have this strange feeling Sophia is gonna develop a thing for Shirou
KAFFING
The BB Wards are gonna be terrifying once Shirou and Tanya’s done with them
Hooli4ss
She just flamed lil Sophia up lol. You have encountered The Devil in Angel’s garb Sophia lmaooo. This is no mere predator.
Darkarma
“Come at me with intent to kill.” Someone is channeling Kakashi with far less charity.
