Then with a slow, fluid motion, she lay back on the floor, resuming her earlier position. Her fingers, once again poised over the ancient book, continued their graceful, almost ritualistic scribbling, the ink flowing in patterns only she could decipher. The quiet hum of her presence lingered in the air, threading itself into the fabric of time and space, as if the very act of writing was bending reality in its wake.
But Ian was completely unaware of any of this. He had just taken his first step into the First Order, and for the moment, he just wanted to relax and enjoy his time with Myrra.
After dinner, they lingered in conversation, nothing serious, just the usual things. Idle jokes. Eventually, the evening unraveled into quiet, and the hum of the day gave way to the soft silence of night.
Lately, Ian and Myrra had more or less fallen into a rhythm. They slept in the same room, sometimes his, sometimes hers.
So naturally, when the moon had climbed high and the halls grew still, Ian made his way toward Myrra's room, barefoot and a little sleepy.
He reached for the door handle out of habit.
Locked.
That was... unusual.
He blinked, momentarily confused, then gave a soft knock. "Myrra?"
Myrra opened the door, wearing a delicate, sheer babydoll that she had bought the other day from the store in Ial Themar. The flimsy garment was a tantalizing combination of sheer material and delicate lace, offering a seductive glimpse of the treasures beneath. She had chosen not to wear anything underneath, allowing the fabric to lovingly caress her bare skin and hint at the perfection of her figure. The top barely covered her full, round breasts, with the lacework artfully framing them in a way that was both modest and incredibly enticing. The skirt, a soft whisper of silk, flowed around her legs, revealing the firm, round globes of her bottom as she moved.
Ian couldn't take his eyes off her. His gaze traced the delicate lines of the lace that barely contained her ample cleavage and highlighted the curve of her hips.
She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door softly behind them. Ian couldn't help but chuckle, his voice laced with amusement, "It's not like anyone else is here."
Myrra lowered her head, her voice a soft whisper. "I'm... a little shy." Its the first time she wore anything like that.
Before she could say more, Ian pulled her into his arms, lifting her chin gently to meet her gaze. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, pressing her body firmly against the wall.
Myrra's breath hitched as Ian began to undress, revealing the strong lines of his athletic frame. He traced a path of kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, and across her chest. Myrra's body quivered with anticipation, her breaths shallow and rapid. He cupped her breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks, eliciting a soft moan from her.
Their bodies aligned, Ian's hardness pressing against her. He paused, looking for deep in her eyes... and then, with a gentle yet firm push, he entered her. Myrra inhaled sharply, feeling a mix of pleasure and pressure as he filled her completely.
The room soon echoed with their passionate sounds, a symphony of desire and release.
The following morning, the soft glow of dawn seeped through the windows, gently illuminating the entangled figures of Ian and Myrra on the rumpled bed. Ian remained deep within Myrra, their bodies still intimately connected. His member still nestled in her welcoming warmth since last night.
Myrra's breath hitched as she awoke to the sensation of Ian's growing arousal. Her eyes fluttered open to find him watching her with a gentle smile. He began to move within her once more, his hips rocking slowly, savoring the sensation of her velvety walls enveloping him. The room was once again filled with the sounds of their passionate union.
And just like that, things went back to routine. Ian didn't tell anyone about his promotion. A few people noticed something different but no one could quite place it.
Until the combat class the instructor was same as usual, calm, patient, and ready to hand out the day's beatings.
He scanned the group, then paused on Ian. A slight frown.
"You entered First Order?"
The room fell silent. Heads turned.
Ian gave a simple nod. "Yesterday."
A ripple went through the class.
The instructor gave a small nod in return. "Then let's test it."
The instructor stepped back and gestured. "Come on, then."
Ian walked to the center.
The instructor shifted his stance, nothing flashy, just a slight change in posture, weight balanced, hands relaxed. But Ian could feel it. The stillness that came with real power.
Ian didn't hesitate.
He moved first, quick, direct. The floor cracked under his step as he launched forward, aiming low then striking high. The instructor deflected easily, guiding the blow away with the back of his hand, then countered with a short strike that Ian barely dodged.
They exchanged a few quick clashes, clean, efficient. Ian's strikes had force now, speed behind them, but the instructor flowed through it like water.
But Ian was different now. He wasn't just reacting. He was pushing forward. He pulled back, reshaping a metal shard with a flick of his wrist, assembling and disassembling it in a fluid motion. The metal turned into a jagged blade, then a coil, then a spear, each transformation faster than the last. He lunged, the weapon slicing through the air toward the instructor.
The instructor caught the metal mid-air with a single hand, snapping it under his grip effortlessly. But Ian was already on the move, reshaping the broken pieces into a shield, large, compact, and solid. Without hesitation, he pressed forward, using the shield as a battering ram, striking at the instructor with everything he had.
Ian had faced the instructor many times before and knew that any attempt at binding or restricting him would fail. The instructor's reactions were too fast, his strength too overwhelming. So, Ian only had a split second, just enough time to land a hit.
His assembly and disassembly of the metal had grown smoother, thanks to reaching the First Order, he was able to make rapid transformations within a much smaller distance. As the instructor's hand came toward him, Ian quickly formed a chain of metal that wrapped around the instructor's hands, locking them both together. The links clicked together in an instant, just before impact, constricting some of the instructor's movements, holding him back for that fleeting moment.
Ian drove the shield forward with everything he had. The strike landed clean. The instructor staggered back a step, forced to give ground, just once. The shock of it cracked the air like a whip.
The instructor's eyes widened, his lips curling into a slight smile. It was the first time Ian had managed to land any kind of blow.
But that moment was all Ian got.
With a burst of force, the instructor broke the chain apart, snapping the restraints like thread. His hands blurred as he caught the edge of Ian's shield mid-motion, halting its momentum with a single palm. He moved in an instant, faster than Ian could react, and with a powerful strike, he shattered the shield Ian had created. Ian staggered backward from the force, but before he could recover, the instructor's leg shot forward in a swift, brutal kick.
But Ian was already prepared.
Without warning, the Obryx surged before him, forming in a flash to block the kick. The instructor's foot slammed into the solid Obryx, the force reverberating through Ian's body. He was pushed back several feet, but the Obryx shield held firm, unbroken.
The instructor paused, his eyes narrowing as he examined the dark blue, almost-black material in front of him. His voice was calm but curious. "What... is this?"
Ian didn't answer. Instead, he focused his mind. The Obryx surged from his body, a flood of dark blue, dense material that responded to his command. In an instant, it spread out in all directions, shifting into different shapes: cubes, coils, thin rods. Each form was a piece of an intricate puzzle, a trap meant to overwhelm the instructor.
First, a massive cube of Obryx rose from the ground, its sharp edges gleaming with intent. As the instructor moved to intercept it, Ian quickly reshaped it, splitting it into a series of twisting chains. The chains spiraled toward the instructor, wrapping around his arms and legs, seeking to bind him in place.
But before they could even form the instructor's body blurred as he disappeared. Ian, anticipating this, already had more Obryx forming, shifting again into a spiked shield that shot forward, aiming for the instructor's chest. As it approached, the instructor sidestepped, his movements graceful yet full of power, but Ian wasn't done.
Hundreds of Obryx blades materialized mid-air, forming in a sweeping arc before launching forward like a storm. The air whistled with their speed. For the first time, the instructor drew his weapon, a massive double-handed axe, and moved straight through the barrage. His swings were fluid, deliberate. Blades scattered and deflected with precise, effortless power.
He pushed through it all, coming for Ian.
Ian reacted instantly, Obryx forming into a thick shield just in time to intercept. The axe hit. Sparks burst outward. The shield held.
The instructor slowed slightly and smiled. "So it is this material…".
But soon the ground beneath him, the air around, Obryx began crawling in, panels forming from every direction. Walls building upward, downward, enclosing from every side. From above, a ceiling dropped. From below, a floor rose.
The instructor paused, glanced around. Same trick?
But then, click. A sharp tension locked around his wrists and ankles. From within the thickening Obryx, smooth segments extended, chains. They weren't separate; they were part of the structure, grown from the interior walls and fused directly into them. When they snapped around his wrists and ankles, they didn't just bind him, they tethered him to the entire Obryx formation. Any attempt to break the restraint would mean breaking the whole structure.
The instructor looked down. For a moment, he truly couldn't move.
Then he smiled.
"Good."
The word echoed like a spark through Ian's spine.
The chains blurred, and the instructor disappeared.
Ian barely turned before a hand pressed against the top of his head.
He froze.
The instructor was beside him, smiling, calm. One hand resting casually in Ian's hair.
"You did good," he said.
Ian blinked, still staring at the Obryx cube in front of him. It was intact. Untouched. The chains were still there, exactly where he'd left them, tight, connected, perfectly anchored.
But the instructor had simply… left.
"I lost," Ian muttered, voice low.
The instructor gave a soft chuckle. "No need to sound so defeated. You did extremely well." He turned, eyes scanning the cube once more. "Honestly, I'm very surprised. Even among those in the Second Order, not many can push me like that."
The instructor continued, brushing the dust from his sleeve, "I'm very surprised. If I had to place it… your energy's brushing the edge of Second Order."
Ian's expression didn't change.
The instructor glanced at him. "But don't think that means you can challenge anyone at that level just yet. They have their own set of tricks."
They stepped off the field, the weight of silence following them. As they approached the rest of the group, the mood had changed, no longer just casual curiosity, but something closer to awe.
They had heard the exchange. They'd seen the fight, the cube, the chainwork, the way Ian had forced on the instructor. Reaching First Order was one thing. But this… this felt like more.
No one spoke at first. Even Yelthara, just watched, a flicker of surprise showing through her usual cool.
Then someone stepped forward, hesitant. "What was that material?"
Ian looked back at the still-standing cube in the center of the field. "Obryx."
That word settled over the group like a drop of cold water.
"…That makes sense," someone muttered. "But still…"
A few looked at each other, exchanging quiet, stunned glances.
The instructor's expression stayed thoughtful, almost unreadable. Still... to think it would be Obryx.
Then he clapped his hands once, bringing everyone's attention back.
"Well," he said lightly, "I think that ends class for today."
The group stayed quiet, still processing.
The instructor turned to Ian as the others began to drift off. "Before you go, take care of it."
Ian nodded, already understanding.
And then they left, some walking in quiet conversation, others still throwing glances back at the untouched Obryx structure on the stage
Ian quickly disintegrates the Obryx and leaves too.