He woke during a fall; water splashed all around as he hit the familiar pond.

  How I hate this part. I died again.

  He knew exactly what to do: he waited for his Lumion, grabbed it, and flames engulfed him, drying his clothes before he headed to the barracks. Outside, a blizzard was raging, white darkness everywhere; he walked slowly with a hand in front of him as freezing snow stung his face and the wind stole his breath. Inside, the hall was empty. The sun still struggled through the storm clouds, so he knew why; most were probably out on patrol or training. But at one table, Radion sat alone.

  “Good day, Captain!” he greeted with a smile.

  Radion smiled and stood to meet him. “At last! We thought you’d never come down from above!” He hugged him, and patted him on the back. “Incredible performance, Rendil.”

  Rendil smiled. “How long was I out?”

  “Fourteen months,” the captain replied.

  Rendil raised his eyebrows. “That’s quite a long time, isn’t it?”

  Radion smirked. “Maybe you’re stronger than we thought, or the Light that regenerates us is weaker. Hard to say. I’ll let you decide,” he winked.

  How did we do? Did you make it? Are we still holding? he glanced, waiting for a response.

  “I'm here, aren't I?” Radion spread his arms. “Without you, the legion would have surely gotten us.”

  Rendil became alert. “The legion? There were more?”

  The captain shook his head. “There was one, but we’ll talk about it tonight with Elion and Lorian. For now, know that you saved us all: with your actions and Lorian’s!”

  Rendil had more questions, but Radion just raised his hand to signal him to wait and pointed to the table. He understood he wouldn’t get an explanation right away, so he went to eat. While he was nourishing himself with Light, Radion sat with him in silence, patiently waiting. After the meal, the captain brought two mugs of beer, raised one, and said, “To you, Rendil!”

  They clinked them together and drank them to the bottom. The bitter beer went down sharp and cold, calming his mind.

  “I’ll leave you alone for a while. Go for a walk and clear your head. Tonight, after the meeting with the squad, we’ll meet in my residence and go over everything,” Radion said.

  Rendil nodded without objection. He spent the whole afternoon walking around the fortress, greeting acquaintances. As dusk fell, he returned to the barracks. Everyone welcomed him enthusiastically.

  “I thought I’d be waiting for you, but you were waiting for me!” he joked to the ones that fell during the fight with archangels. The room burst into laughter, and Altan even started singing, drowning out the guardians’ instruments.

  They grabbed food and talked about what had happened during the fourteen months of his absence. Artur told the story of how a hellhound had sunk its teeth into Werner’s ass and almost bled him out, and how Yassin had had a heroic duel with a helion. He was glad he hadn’t missed anything serious and that the fortresses still held.

  Elion breathed a sigh of relief that Rendil was back. “You just wanted to relax up there, didn’t you?” he teased him with a mischievous grin.

  “I admit, it was a long vacation,” Rendil joked.

  “Haaa, it’s time for you to taste defeat again!” Elion exclaimed and ran to the table for Hnefatafl, already setting up the pieces for Rendil. It was clear that Rendil had really been missed by his viking friend.

  They had fun like this late into the evening, before going to bed. The lieutenants, however, went with the captain so they could recap the whole situation in detail and explain what really happened that day.

  When they crossed the threshold of Radion’s residence, Vesaria was already waiting for them, watching the flames in the stone fireplace. She clasped Rendil’s forearm, her other hand resting on top, her genuine joy at seeing him again evident. Radion led them to his wooden table and called on Light to shape a few more chairs.

  Once they sat, everyone took a glass and settled in comfortably. Radion drifted toward the couch, but Vesaria’s strict look sent him back to a chair with the others. Candlelight from the chandelier flickered across the beams, and the warmth of the fire mingled with the smell of wine in the close air.

  Vesaria began, “It’s a miracle what you managed to do a year ago in these frozen woods. Defeating four revenants with one squad is something you don’t see every day. Rendil, you’re attracting attention.”

  He frowned. “I’ve been warned before, but I have to ask: why is that bad?”

  Vesaria smiled. “No, it’s not bad, but I want you to know that you’re starting to be talked about in higher circles. Defeating barons, helions, askaras, maybe one revenant: that sometimes happens to other squads. But four at once? Yes, the angels’ attention has turned to you for a moment. It’s nothing negative, but it’s something you should know. Fame can lead to arrogance, to overestimating your own abilities, and to failure. Don’t let that happen. Be as prudent as you have been so far, and don’t forget why you’re here.”

  Rendil accepted her words with respect, but remained thoughtful. “What actually happened?” he asked.

  Vesaria continued, “It was snowing heavily, but from the fortress I clearly saw the Light Beam calling for help. With the captains, we set out immediately. The demon already caught up to you when we arrived; if not for your sacrifice, he would have gotten you all.”

  “Did you kill him?” His voice held disbelief and awe.

  Vesaria nodded, “Yes, but it was a tough fight. I sent the captains to the rear; a legion is a very powerful demon.” Rendil started to interrupt, but Vesaria held up her hand. “I’ll explain everything step by step.”

  “From a distance, I saw your body in two pieces and the legion closing on the others. I used the element of surprise, but his shield met my sword. What followed was a duel where I had to be very careful not to injure the squad members. The legion knew exactly what he was doing; he tried to stay as close to the others as possible and keep my strength in check. I had to finish it quickly, before there were more casualties.” The flames from the fireplace were reflecting in her eyes as she spoke.

  “I grabbed his dark shield, and he took my arm at the elbow for it. In that moment, my sword found a weak spot in his neck armor, and it was a price I was glad to pay. I sealed the wound with Light; it cost me plenty of blood, but by now the arm has grown back, good as new.” She lifted her regrown hand, curling it into a fist before opening her fingers to show it off.

  The room stayed quiet as she spoke; only the fire cracked in the background.

  ”Why did you grab it?” Rendil asked.

  ”To create an opening,” she said.

  Rendil’s fingers tightened around his glass, his mouth slightly open.

  When Vesaria finished, he recovered and said, “My attack did nothing to him.”

  Vesaria confirmed. “That’s completely understandable. Even high angels have trouble with legions. It’s admirable how you stood up to him: you saved all your friends. Lorian also acted wisely when he spent his strength calling for help. What you did... the captain can really be proud of you. The courage you showed saved more than just this squad: the heavens are thankful. Such a deed is rarely seen.”

  He got chills from so much praise, but had to ask, “Who is the legion, anyway? I’ve never heard of such a demon.”

  Vesaria thought for a moment. “It’s a collective being, made up of many very powerful demons into one entity. They share one twisted mind through which they can communicate and organize; within it, the individual parts try to subdue the others to take control over the most powerful body.”

  “The one I met: is he just one of hundreds like him? And each one is as strong as a high angel?” His mouth went dry.

  “Their strengths vary,” she said. “Some of them can rival a high angel.”

  He couldn’t believe it. After all he’d been through, he knew there were many demons he still had no chance of defeating, but hundreds? The thought made his stomach tighten; hundreds of demons, close to rival the strength of high angel, marched through his mind.

  “There must have been breaches! Or how did they get here?” he blurted out, panic rising in his voice.

  “All has been taken care of,” Radion reassured him. “Right after your encounter, we started searching just in case. The legion is big and left clear traces. They opened a new small passage, but clearly crossed over during the last battle. Don’t worry.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  “But why did it chase us so far? It must have been aware it couldn't win so close to the fortress.” Rendil kept asking questions.

  “I believe it was the thick snow,” Vesaria continued. “It didn’t realize how close the fortress was. Add bloodlust, and it might not have thought there were enough of you left to call for help after the revenants. Overestimating its own strength and underestimating yours, that's your answer.”

  Then he remembered something he’d heard from the revenants and said, “They talked about cooperation.”

  Elion spoke up, waving his hand. “Yes, they have some master. Cooperation between them is common.”

  Vesaria's expression hardened. “Demon cooperations are rare, but they do exist. They're temporary and always end in treason. I've fought them for millennia.” She paused, her emerald eyes hard. “Any other meaning of cooperation is not possible. Unimaginable, even.” Heavy silence fell over the table.

  Still, Rendil couldn’t help it; the words kept echoing in his mind. He still knew very little about these enemies and only knew them from stories. Commander had already hinted they would likely be transferred to the capital. For now, though, he had to focus on mastering the Light Step. He already knew the Light Beam technique, but needed to perfect it: add more power and at the same time reduce the recovery time he needed.

  “You’ll have to keep asking questions,” Elion laughed and slapped him on the back. Rendil sighed and stretched his back.

  “Thanks for that,” he said. “And what about the rest of the squad, how are we doing?”

  “At full strength,” Radion reassured him. “After that big encounter, we’ve only had routine skirmishes. No one from our group is hanging on the Tree right now.”

  “That’s good,” Rendil concluded. “Thank you for the news, but please excuse me, I’m quite tired and need to prepare for tomorrow’s training. May your Light shine true!”

  “And may yours shine as well,” they echoed.

  Rendil bowed politely, and they returned the gesture. Then he headed for his residence, not using the Door of Light this time. He wanted the evening chill and a breath of fresh air to clear his mind.

  He lay on his bed, looking out through the iced window, thinking about the black scythe?like sword. His mind ran over his Light attack again and again, and how the legion had split his body. It was his first death as a lieutenant. I need to get stronger. He let the thought loop until sleep took him.

  He woke up early, but this time he didn’t rush to the barracks; he decided to clear his head. Snowflakes melted on his armor and vanished in little wisps from the heat of his Lumion as he stepped outside. On his walk, he ran into Lorian.

  “What got you out so early?” he asked.

  “I just needed to clear my mind,” Rendil replied.

  Lorian was silent for a moment, then said, “That cooperation they talked about bothers me too... I can’t forget it.”

  Rendil waved his hand. “Maybe they just meant cooperating with other demon factions. Since I’ve been here, I haven’t seen any serious conflict among us, at most minor disagreements. I can’t imagine anyone really plotting with demons here. It seems absurd to me.”

  Lorian nodded, but a shadow of doubt remained in his dark brown eyes as he rubbed his stubbled chin. “Still, it’s strange. For thousands of years, the gates were impregnable, and suddenly the forces of Hell have taken five of them? And with every defeat, an archangel was captured... Isn’t there a clear pattern? I don’t want to burden you with my thoughts, but it keeps me up at night.”

  “Have you talked to the captain or the commander about it?” Rendil asked.

  “I tried, but the result is always the same: no one can imagine anyone here working with Hell. There’s no evidence, no motivation. But we should stay vigilant.”

  He matched his pace, a small smile flickering in agreement. “Let’s go to the barracks; training awaits me. I have to master new techniques; maybe next time I’ll be the one to call for help.”

  Lorian smiled. “I’d like to see that! Come on, and in the evening, we can play chess.”

  During training with both lieutenants, they cleared the archery range for him. After each shot, he felt the cold snow on his knees as he collapsed for a few minutes. Some dummies exploded under his attacks, but most he missed. Five shots a day was his maximum. Lorian warned him, “Don’t push it; you’ll be honing these techniques for years. It’s enough if you improve gradually.”

  “We can switch to regular training, do some sparring with the others,” Elion suggested.

  “I can handle a few more rounds,” Rendil argued.

  Lorian just shook his head. “Five a day is your limit, at least for now. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time.”

  Elion and Radion agreed, and Rendil knew he was outvoted. So he joined the others and continued with group training.

  In the evening after practice, they returned to their familiar spot. The hall breathed a relaxed calm, mugs thumping against the table as everyone chatted and joked. The others argued about who was the best in chess. Then Elion burst out, “Who cares about that modern nonsense? Hnefatafl, that's the game for masters. Thank the Almighty, the Light can create any game we remember.”

  Games. How many we played. With Tom and Sam, lots of football. Rendil's chest tightened. I was looking forward to playing with Alex too, but it never came to that. His expression darkened.

  “Can Light create any games?” Rendil asked.

  The others confirmed, in principle, yes.

  “And what about games from my time?” he asked.

  “You mean computer games?” Werner asked curiously.

  But Rendil didn’t really listen; he just sat there, lost in thought. If it’s only a projection, the Light could handle it...

  He got up and went to the big table. “I’d like a computer, please!” Nothing happened. Carlos snickered; Rendil rubbed the back of his neck.

  “What about something that could at least handle Tetris?” Still nothing.

  Artur thought for a moment. “Light can create figurines, game boards... But nothing that needs electricity or a battery. Mechanical parts don’t work here.”

  Rendil sat back at the table and sighed inwardly. This will be a long few centuries. But he immediately joined the conversation, not letting thoughts of home take over.

  “So tell us something about the modern age,” the others prompted him. Even though they’d heard his stories many times, they were still fascinated by how far technology on Earth had come. Diseases that once threatened whole families were a frequent topic, but this time they tried to think of something more pleasant.

  He leaned back comfortably, his gaze softening for a moment. “Technology was at a high level. Computers could do things we never dreamed of. The first steps toward artificial intelligence: programs that learned on their own, created pictures, videos, analyzed texts, advised people at work and in everyday life. As a manager in an IT company, I had access to the latest innovations. Automation always fascinated me.”

  “Automation?” Mona interrupted, leaning over the table curiously.

  Rendil smiled. “That’s when something done every day is programmed so a machine or program does it for you. In the morning, it makes your coffee automatically, turns off the lights at night, or plans your commute to work for you.”

  “It still amazes me how quickly you all picked up modern terms and topics,” Rendil said, grinning.

  Elion spoke up, “I remember when I first heard about the internet, I thought it was some kind of net for catching demons.”

  Everyone burst out laughing. Artur’s blue eyes lit up as he leaned forward. “And what about games? The computer ones, that must have been something!”

  He said with amusement, “We were able to create entire worlds. You could be a hero, an adventurer, or just a builder. What I miss most, though, are strategy games: the ones where you controlled your own armies, built cities, managed economies, and planned every move. I never would have expected to actually end up in one for real...” He sighed and stared into the distance for a moment.

  Elion just confirmed his words with a look. “It’s more peaceful here, now that the world has stopped. Many of us watched the modern world through spheres in the Library, learned new words, and observed the development of science.”

  He turned away from talk of games and sat back, his gaze dropping to the floor beneath the table as his voice grew quieter, “Those were wonderful times. My wife and I worked hard, saved, and built our careers so we could fulfill our dreams. Four healthy children, not everyone was that lucky. The computer was my favorite pastime, especially with the boys. I looked forward to them growing up so we could play together, which we did. We had our dream house, where the kids could grow up.”

  He fell silent for a moment. “If I could turn back time... Was alcohol really that important?”

  The room fell silent. Mona encouraged him, “If you hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t be here. You’d have stayed trapped like they are now, unable to help, waiting for the worst fate. This way, you got a chance to help change everything.”

  She’s right. Without her stubborn optimism, I’d probably be lying under this table or drifting through my days like an empty shell. Those little pushes toward hope have kept me going more times than I can count. One day, I’ll find a way to repay you.

  He met her eyes in silent thanks, then broke the silence and straightened up before continuing: “We played a lot of ball games, too. I watched soccer with my sons.” At that moment, a new idea struck him. He stood and went to the table. When he returned, he held a soccer ball. “What do you think?” he asked Elion and Lorian.

  They both smiled. “We’ll see what the captain says,” they said, and went to his office.

  The door flew open and all three of them barreled in like shoppers on Black Friday.

  “Captain!” Elion called. “Rendil has an idea!”

  Lorian joined in, “We could add soccer to training. Maybe even other sports if it catches on.”

  Rendil stood in the back, not wanting to push himself forward. Radion furrowed his brow, doubt clear in his eyes.

  “Free time is for training,” he said sternly, setting his pen down on the paperwork. “This isn’t Paradise, but it’s not Hell either; it’s something in between.”

  Rendil spoke up, “I agree, captain, but if we devoted an hour a day to it, mainly for the more experienced, it could improve team spirit and morale in the squads. Everyone would relax and then focus better on training.”

  Radion sighed and, after a moment, relented. “We’ll try it. An hour a day, but only for the more experienced.”

  All three were overjoyed. “Let’s go tell the others!” Elion shouted, and they ran to the barracks.

  The place immediately came alive: chairs shifted, voices rose, and everyone wanted to hear the rules and try the new game. “Offside? What’s an offside? Who thought that rule was a good idea?” came from the table. Rendil explained concepts like the ball going out of play and penalty kicks; they divided into teams and debated where to play, with snow covering everything outside.

  Then Radion and Vesaria entered. “You left so quickly, we didn’t even get to go over the details,” the captain noted. Rendil went to the commander to work out how to clear a suitably large space inside.

  The conversations slowly ended; chairs screeched across the floor as they were pushed back, and the music in the hall dulled as the musicians set their instruments down. Everyone went to their rooms, full of anticipation for the next day.

  In the morning, Rendil woke up early, and after breakfast, the squad went outside to train.

  On his way out of the barracks, he brushed past the ball leaning against the wall and smiled.

  Sam would love this. Tom would only care if it was on a screen... nah, he might join too.

  Goalkeeper it is. I'll run less and have more strength for training.

  He still wasn't making progress with the lieutenant techniques, but at least tomorrow, for one hour, his mind would go to something else than blades. He'd be playing soccer in this strange world of Light.

  He walked to the wall, snow crunching beneath his feet and leaving deep footsteps. He glanced back at the fortress tavern. Heard voices of his friends in their morning routines, as if nothing was happening. As he walked along the wall, he couldn't shake the feeling.

  They were missing something. A piece on the board, hidden in shadow, waiting for its moment to move.

  The thought faded as quickly as it came, turning into nothing more than an itch. He shook his arms and brushed fallen snow from his pauldron.

  His gaze shifted toward the frozen forests beyond. Beneath the surface, that feeling remained: the hidden piece was already moving, and none of them could see it yet. Somewhere out there, demons plotted. His family waited, frozen in time. The answer was already there, hiding in plain sight. He just didn't know where to look yet.