Frozen Flame of Dawn - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Chapter 16: Rising Beast Wave_1

In the Training Hall as sparring session begins:

There was a calm energy in the air inside the training hall. And the warmth of newly awakened energy lingered in the room like the aftermath of a summer storm.

Amara stood in the middle of the large fighting ring with her hands on her hips and a cold, hard look on her face. Around her, people in the squad stretched, rolled their shoulders, and shook their arms to get ready for what was occurring.

“Alright,” Amara said, her voice sharp but steady, carrying across the room. “You’ve all had time to feel it. To taste it. Now it’s time to control it.”

Her eyes scanned everyone, most of whom looked like they’d just come out of a 10-hour workout session. Sweat dripped from their brows, their muscles visibly tense, but their eyes—those eyes were different.

“Here’s the deal,” Amara continued, walking in a slow circle like a predator sizing up her prey.

“Strength without control is chaos. You think you’re strong now, huh?”

“Do you really believe you’re strong now? Simply put, strength that isn’t controlled is useless. It will control you if you can’t control it.”

Her eyes locked on Bella, who was still grinning from earlier, the faint flicker of flames occasionally dancing along her fingertips. Amara raised an eyebrow at her. “Bella.”

Bella stiffened. “Yes, Captain?”

“Since you were so eager to show off, you’re up first.”

Bella’s grin faltered. “I mean… I wasn’t that eager—”

“Too late,” Amara said, stepping back and pointing at the center of the sparring ring. “Front and center.”

Snickers echoed through the room as Bella grumbled under her breath but moved to the ring.

Amara pointed to one of the larger soldiers on the other side. “Reese, you’re up too.”

Reese raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching into a grin. “Me? Against her?”

“Did I stutter?” Amara shot back, her gaze daring him to challenge her authority.

“No, ma’am.” Reese’s grin widened as he stepped into the ring, cracking his knuckles.

The two soldiers faced off. Bella’s fiery confidence returned, as she dropped into a low, balanced stance. Reese flexed his fingers, small cracks of stone-like material forming over his skin.

“First rule,” Amara said, circling them. “No lethal force or use of uncontrolled abilities, settle with your enhanced strength and speed. If I see either of you trying to do something stupid, you’re sparring with me next.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at them both. “Trust me, you don’t want that.”

They both nodded.

“Begin,” she said, stepping back.

Bella was the first to move, and a burst of flame pushed her forward like a rocket. After being pushed, Reese quickly covered his arms with solid sand, but not evenly. He did this just in time to block. They exchanged blows—quick, brutal strikes that echoed like thunderclaps in the hall.

Amara watched carefully, her sharp eyes noticing every slip in footing, every moment of hesitation. They’re getting better, she thought. But not fast enough.

While at the Communication Hub – Capital City

There was a lot going on at the hub. As operators went from station to station, they looked over reports, updated screens, and talked with teams on the ground.

At the heart of it all, Chancellor Helen stood like an unmoving pillar of authority, arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on the live feeds displayed on the wall.

Each feed was a snapshot of a city teetering on the edge—fires in alleyways, citizens scrambling for shelter, and the constant flicker of movement from newly awakened individuals trying (and failing) to control their powers. It wasn’t a scene Helen enjoyed watching, but she watched it nonetheless.

“Status report,” Helen said, her voice cold but steady. The room quieted as all eyes subtly shifted toward the chief and Ezzie.

Ezzie glanced at the chief of the communication hub. They exchanged a look that screamed “You go first” before she sighed and stepped forward.

Glancing down at her tablet, her eyes scanning the latest updates. She hesitated. “It’s… steady, ma’am, but slower than expected.”

Chancellor Helen’s eyes flicked toward her like a sniper locking on a target. “Slower?” Her voice wasn’t loud, but the weight behind it was enough to make two nearby operators suddenly very interested in their monitors.

Ezzie shifted her weight, feeling the pressure of that stare. “Yes, ma’am. We’re covering a lot of ground, but there’s just too much to handle all at once. We’re doing sweeps, but the sheer number of unstable awakened individuals is…” She glanced at the chief of the hub. “Chief?”

The chief cleared his throat, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his clipboard. He knew he wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation.

“She’s right, ma’am.” he began, his voice carrying the weight of someone already expecting to be scolded. “Even with the Dragon unit deployed, it’s not enough to cover the entire city in one sweep.” He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting toward the wall as if it might offer him an escape route. “But it’s not just the awakened individuals causing issues.”

Helen’s gaze narrowed. “Then what else?”

He let out a slow breath. “Many of the newly awakened aren’t causing chaos intentionally. The problem is, a lot of them can’t control their powers. We’re getting reports of people accidentally shattering windows, setting fires, and harming others. It’s like putting toddlers in a room full of loaded weapons.”

He gestured to one of the live feeds where a man burnt the his own arm as wasn’t able control, his panicked wife pacing below. “Stuff like that. It’s not malicious, but it’s slowing us down.”

Helen’s eyes shifted from the feed to the chief. “And?”

He winced, clearly dreading the next part. “Then there’s the animals, ma’am.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “Animals?”

He answered, “Yes, ma’am, all of them—pets, strays, rodents, and even insects,” sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Almost all of them have gone… berserk. Dogs attacking their owners, stray cats going feral, and rats—God help us—the rats are everywhere. We’ve had reports of them swarming food stores, biting people, and—” He hesitated.

“Spit it out, Chief,” Helen said flatly.

“—some of them are bigger now, ma’am,” he said quickly, as if saying it fast would make it sound less absurd. “Larger than they were before the surge. Not all of them, but enough to be a problem.

And unlike people, they’re not wasting time ‘sensing energy’ or ‘harnessing it.’ They’re just… acting.”

Helen rubbed her temple. “So, we’re at war with toddlers and rats?”

Helen tilted her head slightly, her eyes locked on him like she was dissecting him with her mind. “What’s the status on military?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

The chief shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. “We established a wired connection with the military base 15 kilometers from here, just like you ordered, and we’ve been in contact since the surge.” He hesitated.

“And…” The chief coughed, eyes darting away. “They’re… still assessing the situation, ma’am.”

The room went still.

Helen tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing like a wolf deciding whether or not to pounce. “Assessing?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The chief tugged at his collar, beads of sweat forming on his brow. “They’ve had… issues, ma’am. Some of their military beasts—war dogs, falcons—showed signs of aggression after the surge. They’re handling that while grouping a team to deploy here.”

“Grouping?” Her voice was so low it was almost a growl.

“Grouping,” he repeated, wincing. “They said they’ll send word as soon as they’re ready to move.”

“Send word?” Helen’s eyes glowed with barely restrained fury. Her fingers curled at her sides, nails tapping softly against her palm. Her gaze flicked to her personal guard, who stood stiffly at attention.

“Issue this order,” she said, her voice so cold the air felt sharper. “If that military unit is not here by 4 a.m., the general in command will be charged with dereliction of duty and treason. I expect them to be informed immediately.”

The guard’s face was stoic, but his eyes flickered with surprise. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, bowing his head before marching out of the hub.

Her eyes still on the chief. Her voice dropped to a low, lethal tone. “If I have to remind them what loyalty looks like, I will.”

Silence settled over the room like a fog. Every operator suddenly found something very important on their screens to focus on.

Helen took a slow, controlled breath, her eyes never leaving the chief. She stepped forward, her presence filling every inch of his personal space. Her voice, cold and precise, cut through the air like a dagger.

“Don’t mistake my patience for mercy, Chief,” she said, her eyes piercing into his like steel needles. “When I ask for the truth, I expect it. Understood?”

The chief nodded so fast his head might have come loose. “Yes, ma’am. Absolutely, ma’am.”

“Good,” Helen said, stepping back, her voice sharp as broken glass. “I expect an update every 30 minutes. Am I clear?”

The chief turned back to his station like it was his lifeline, his fingers tapping furiously on the console.

Helen turned to Ezzie, her gaze still hard but less deadly. “Any word from Captain Aiden?”

Ezzie pressed a button on her earpiece, her eyes darting to her tablet. After a moment, she nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He says they’re doing as much as they can. It’s not just sweeps anymore—he’s recruiting some of the more stable awakened citizens to help with the smaller aggressive creatures like rats and feral pets. Said it’s reducing some of the pressure on his teams.”

“Smart move.” Helen’s brows lifted slightly as she asked, “What’s the time estimate?”

Ezzie nodded at her tablet. “He says they can stabilize the inner district by 3 a.m. But the outer city… that’s going to take 2-3 times longer unless we get reinforcements.”

Helen nodded slowly, calculating. “Noted. I’ll handle it.”

With that, Ezzie turned back to her station, fingers tapping away, eyes scanning the streams of data. Helen remained where she was, eyes on the city feeds—fires, smoke, and chaos. But there was no panic in her gaze. Only calculation.