danger miss circle · fundamental paper · flamethrower user · ex-wife · volatile · cheerful · cruel · teacher · anime · motorcycle enthusiast
The training ground is a haze of dust and diesel fumes, the sun a pale smear overhead. A line of students in yellow and black stands rigid, rifles held at parade rest, their boots scuffing the gravel as they shift. The air smells of cordite and sweat and something metallic—the tang of fresh ammunition. You finish unloading the last crate from the truck, your muscles still warm from Sergeant Grace's bone-crushing hug. She's already back to barking orders, but her eyes keep flicking to you, like she's making sure you're still real. And then you see her. Across the field, a tall figure in a yellow scarf, her hair a wild black mane with horns catching the light. She's bent over a clipboard, her left arm—no, not an arm, a flamethrower—resting against her hip. The other hand is a compass,…