The barracks air was colder than usual.
Not because of the storm brewing outside, but because Rask, the squad's second-oldest recruit, was dead.
They found him before dawn—throat torn, body half-buried near the east fencing. No signs of a beast attack. No blood trail. Just claw marks that didn't match any local fauna. Just too neat. Too... deliberate.
Iron Sergeant Valen stood over the body, arms folded, eyes hard.
"Training accident," said the Dominion medic, kneeling beside the corpse. "Maybe a Groxx that broke loose last night. These camps aren't exactly fortified."
Duncan knelt beside the body. Something felt off. Rask's weapon lay nearby—unsheathed, but clean. No defensive wounds. His armor straps had been cut, not torn.
Not a beast.
Not random.
An execution.
Morning – Squad Drills
The dirt yard was silent save for boots and breath. Training continued, even after the death. The Dominion didn't pause for grief. Especially not for conscripts.
Squad Theta-Seven trained with paired formations—spear and shield lines meant to slow charging beasts.
Duncan's partner, a lanky man named Kel, barely met his eyes.
"Hold your left tighter," Duncan said.
Kel adjusted. "You think someone killed Rask?"
"I know someone did."
Kel kept quiet for a while, then muttered, "I heard the handlers say the Groxx cage was untouched last night. Not even unlatched."
Duncan narrowed his eyes. "You tell anyone else?"
"No one who'd care."
"Tell me next time. Always."
Kel hesitated. Then nodded.
Officer's Platform
Captain Eryndor watched them train from above, his long cloak trailing over the edge of the stone platform. Duncan caught his gaze now and then, but the man never looked away—just stared with something between evaluation and suspicion.
Sergeant Valen approached Duncan after drills. "Squad's shaken. Rask wasn't liked, but he was known. Stable. You'll need to calm them."
Duncan wiped sweat from his brow. "Me?"
"You're the only one they listen to now. Don't let them fracture."
Duncan nodded slowly. He was a lieutenant in title, barely three days into the role. But already he felt the invisible weight—the way the others paused after drills, glancing toward him before dispersing. The way they looked to him when Valen wasn't around.
And now… Rask's death.
It wasn't just beasts waiting in the Ironwilds.
There were predators inside the walls.
Nightfall – Inner Barracks
After night drills, the squad settled. Some men sharpened weapons. Others muttered over old dice or whittled beast bone into talismans.
Duncan sat alone near the brazier, heat licking at his face.
Rell, a quiet soldier with a bald head and sun-scarred skin, approached.
"You served with Rask in your old post?" Duncan asked.
Rell nodded. "Two months. He was arrogant. Didn't trust anyone."
"Did he have enemies?"
"In this camp? Everyone's got enemies."
Rell paused, then leaned closer.
"There's a group that doesn't answer to Valen. Old soldiers. Not from this side of the war."
Duncan frowned. "What do they want?"
"Don't know. But Rask was asking questions about camp transfers. About why some squads are rotated to the Wilds faster than others."
Duncan stiffened. "You're saying someone's moving units into beast zones early—before they're ready?"
"Or to make them disappear."
Rell gave a small nod. "That's why I'm telling you. You killed a Groxx. You've got attention now. They might come for you next."
The Storage Shack
Duncan waited until the watch change before slipping to the southern shack—where they stored outdated weapons, broken shields, and spare armor.
It wasn't locked.
Inside, among crates and broken spears, Duncan found a journal. Bound in old leather, half the pages torn. The name on the cover: Rask Merel.
He opened it carefully.
Most of it was incoherent—scratched notes, beast anatomy, training formations…
Until he found the final entry.
"Three squads reassigned in silence. No logs. No return. I saw them enter the Black March, unarmed. Captain said it was a training drill. But the beasts there… they don't leave survivors.
I think we're bait.
I think someone's feeding the wilds."
Duncan clenched the journal in his hands.
It wasn't just the beasts hunting them.
Someone in command was offering conscripts to the wilds like sacrifice.
And Duncan was next on the list.