By the time the final four walked into the chamber, the tone had shifted.
The shield had been chosen. The mind had been chosen.
Now they needed fire.
The weapon.
The devastation.
The one who would push back when the sin pushed first.
And if possible — someone who could burn clean.
CEREN VOS
Ceren strode in like a storm bottled in human form. Auburn hair tied back with a braided flame-knot, leathers charred at the cuffs, her stride was confident without being arrogant.
She didn't sit until invited.
"Ceren Vos," Koda said. "Do you want to step into hell again?"
She leaned forward, smirking slightly. "Doesn't matter if I want to. I've already packed."
Terron let out a low, approving sound.
Koda smiled faintly. "Why join us?"
Her smile faded, replaced by fire behind her eyes. "Because you're not here to posture. You kill what needs killing, save who needs saving, and don't pretend it doesn't hurt."
She cracked her knuckles, fingertips glowing faintly. "And because if something needs to burn to the roots — I'd rather be the one lighting the match."
After she left, Terron grinned. "She's got fire. Literally and spiritually."
Maia was quiet, thoughtful. "She's powerful… but volatile. Emotionally driven. That can be strength — or it can be a crack."
Koda murmured, "She'll never hesitate. But she might overreach."
MARA INES
Mara entered with quiet steps and a soot-black robe. Her eyes were watchful — not withdrawn, but… inward-facing. Like someone who'd already rehearsed every bad outcome before she walked in.
She sat without speaking.
Koda leaned forward. "Mara. You've survived the worst. Do you want to step into hell again?"
"I'm not afraid of hell," she said softly. "I just don't want to become it."
"And why join us?"
Her gaze lifted, steady and calm.
"Because you've seen the cost of victory. Because you're not trying to win for the sake of winning. You're trying to survive and stay human."
She folded her hands. "I want to burn what needs burning. But not more than that."
Once she'd gone, Maia whispered, "She's scarred. But steady."
Terron nodded. "Measured. Precise. She won't waste a flame."
Koda added, "She might not pull the trigger fast — but she'll never pull it carelessly."
DEKER HOLL
Deker practically burst through the door with a satchel of bottles clinking against his hip and a wide, mischievous grin.
"Evening!" he greeted. "Hope you don't mind the smoke. I just finished a successful combust test downstairs."
Terron raised a brow. "You brought explosives?"
"Only the safe ones."
Koda motioned for him to sit. "Deker. Do you want to walk into hell?"
He grinned. "I've got a dozen experimental reasons to say yes."
Koda tried not to smile. "And why join us?"
Deker's grin faded slightly — not vanished, just tempered.
"You're the real thing," he said. "Not chasing titles. Just doing the work. And I want to see it. Burn through the rot from the inside out."
He tapped his chest. "I'm good with flame. But I'm better with purpose."
After he left, Terron rubbed his face. "That kid's either brilliant or a future crater."
Maia chuckled. "No malice. Just chaos. But his aura's clean — no corruption, no ambition. He really just… wants to help."
Koda nodded. "Smart. Tactical. But needs a leash."
THESSA RAIN
Thessa entered last.
No theatrics.
Just grace.
Her robes were pristine, flame-stitched with silver thread — the mark of the Holy Mother's punitive fire division. She bowed low before sitting, and her presence was calm, but strong.
"Thessa," Koda said. "You've burned corruption before. Do you want to step into hell again?"
"I will," she said softly, "because there are still souls to protect on the other side."
"And why us?"
She smiled — not with pride, but kindness.
"Because you fight to purify, not to punish. Because your blades cut clean. And because your path does not run on blood, but on will."
Koda held her gaze for a long moment.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
When she left, the silence lingered.
Then Terron murmured, "She walks like a sermon."
Maia was still watching the door. "Her power isn't loud, but it burns steady. She won't crack. She won't fold."
Koda nodded slowly. "And I think Greed would hate her most of all."
Koda leaned over the table again, elbows resting on the smooth wood, gaze shifting between the four profiles. Each name stared back with a different kind of weight.
Ceren Vos.
Mara Ines.
Deker Holl.
Thessa Rain.
They were all capable. Any one of them could burn down half a battlefield and survive the other half.
But that wasn't enough.
Not for this.
He exhaled through his nose, then looked to his team.
"We need to talk," he said quietly. "Not just about strength."
Maia and Terron both leaned forward.
"I want you both to give me two answers," Koda said. "Who you think best aligns with us. And who best aligns with the mission."
Terron was the first to speak.
He tapped his fingers once, twice… then settled.
"For us?" he said. "Mara."
Maia raised an eyebrow.
"She's quiet, but the way she listens? She knows pain. She'll understand when to hold back, when to burn. She won't fight me for front space, and she won't throw fire just to feel strong."
He shifted his hand.
"But for the mission?" He tapped Thessa's name. "That one. She hates what Greed is. You can see it. Not with anger, but with purpose. She'll never flinch from it."
Maia took a longer pause.
"For us?" she said slowly. "Deker."
Koda blinked. "Really?"
She gave a faint smile. "Because he'll remind us to laugh. Even when things get bad. And because he doesn't pretend he's righteous — he's just good. He wants to help. That makes him rare."
She touched Thessa's file next.
"But for the mission… it's her. There's no part of her that's unclear. She's not prideful, she's not naive. She knows what she's walking into and still believes it's worth stepping forward."
She looked at Koda. "That kind of conviction? That's hard to build. But it's the best weapon we could carry."
Koda sat back.
He said nothing for a long time.
The fire was waiting.
And now he had to choose who would carry it with them.
Koda turned toward Terron, fingers drumming once on the side of Thessa's profile before sliding to Deker's.
"Your worry is that Deker lacks the temperament, right?" he asked quietly.
Terron gave a single nod. "He's a wildfire in a glass bottle. Brilliant — but he's not anchored. One panic and he might light a hallway with us in it."
Koda nodded… then slowly smiled.
"I've changed my mind."
Maia's brow arched. "Oh?"
He looked between them. "I don't want to choose just one. I want both."
There was a pause.
Then Terron snorted. "You want to bring two fire mages?"
"I want Thessa," Koda said, eyes sharpening, "because she's a moral spear. She'll never waver. And if Junen is our wall, and Wren our wire, Thessa is our anchor. The sin won't find space to root in her. She makes others stronger just by being next to them."
He tapped Deker's file.
"But Deker… he's pure. He doesn't have the scars the rest of us do. That's dangerous, but it's also exactly why we need him. He's curious. Unafraid. If anyone's going to improvise when hell warps around us, it'll be him."
He leaned forward.
"And between Wren and Junen, we have the emotional backbone to keep him from unraveling. Let him work with Wren — mix control and flame. Tactical chaos."
Maia smiled faintly. "That's… risky."
"But," she added, "you're right."
Terron shook his head with a half-grin. "We were supposed to walk in with six. You're dragging seven into hell."
Koda looked at them both.
"No."
"I'm bringing a team."
———
They gathered in the Order's southern mess hall — a stone-walled space rarely used for more than clerical meals, now cleared and quiet, with a long oak table at the center.
Seven chairs.
Seven chosen.
Each had been summoned. None knew the full extent of who else had been named.
Until now.
Junen arrived first. She gave Koda a quiet nod and took a seat to his right, posture serene as ever. She placed her token on the table — a smoky-gray coin inscribed with a handprint.
Wren entered a few minutes later, barely audible, and paused when she saw Junen. Her eyes flicked to Koda briefly — not surprise, but curious recognition. Then she nodded once and sat.
Deker came next.
He stopped in the doorway, blinked once, then broke into a slow grin. "Oh, this is going to be interesting."
Junen offered him tea. Wren silently pushed a chair out for him.
By the time Thessa arrived — radiant and calm, her token worn around her neck like a talisman — the dynamic had already begun to form.
Maia and Terron entered together, Koda stepping over and trailing just behind. The moment felt quiet, but charged.
"Alright," Koda said, stepping to the head of the table, resting both palms on the wood. "This is your team. Each of you was chosen because of your strength, your control, and your character."
He looked around the circle.
"Before we fight together, we break bread."
The meal was humble — hot bread, roasted meats, dried fruits, and black tea with spice. They ate in silence at first, until Deker began recounting the time a bottle of dragon-oil exploded during a training session, taking the eyebrows off two enforcers and cracking three windows.
That earned a surprised laugh from Wren — soft, almost unseen — and a full bark from Terron, who immediately started teasing Deker about becoming their walking landmine.
By the time the plates were clean, names had been repeated, glances exchanged, a few easy rhythms had emerged.
Even Junen cracked a quiet smile at one point when Deker compared Wren's reflexes to "a shadow that's been caffeinated."
When the table had been cleared, Koda stood again.
Time for purpose.
"Tonight," he said, "we don't march into hell. We test the steel we've forged."
He turned to the map laid out on the table — a marked schematic of the eastern wall.
"We'll take the northern ridge post. Dead still trickle from the scar. If we're lucky, we get thirty. If we're not…" he looked at Thessa, who met his gaze calmly, "we see what this team can really do."
He gestured to a rough sketch of their formation.
"I'll take point. Agile, fast — I'll draw their attention, pick off the edges, keep them turning."
He drew a mark behind his own.
"Junen will hold just behind me — root the center, keep them from breaking our spine."
He looked toward her. She nodded once. "My ground is sacred."
"Terron," Koda said, motioning to the rear line, "you'll anchor the back. Anything that slips behind — you end it. Brutally."
Terron grinned. "Wouldn't dream of anything else."
Koda shifted to the center of the diagram — the heart.
"Maia. You're our lifeline. You hold the middle, and we shield you at all costs."
She dipped her head. "I'll keep you standing. Don't make me work too hard."
He smirked.
He turned to the lattice formation behind Maia.
"Wren. Deker. Thessa."
The three looked at each other — the lattice already forming.
"You're the pivot. The net. Wren, you sew gaps before they rip. Deker, you ignite control where it hurts most. Thessa — you make sure everything unholy burns and doesn't come back."
Thessa smiled softly. "With judgment and grace."
Deker raised his hand. "And possibly explosions."
Wren just nodded.
Koda stepped back, letting them see it all.
"This isn't a warband," he said. "This is a system. When it moves, it moves together."
His voice dropped.
"We're going to hell. But if we do this right — we won't bend when it tries to break us."
Junen raised her cup. "To the team."
Terron grabbed his. "To lighting up the dark."
Deker clinked with both. "To calculated chaos."
Thessa offered hers toward Maia. "To healing through fire."
Wren didn't raise hers — but gave the faintest smirk. "To surviving, quietly."
Koda raised his last.
"To purpose."
They drank.
And the steel began to temper.