{Side Arc – Elyndra I}
Night at G-4 Base was quiet, but Elyndra did not sleep. In her small, tidy room, she sat in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection. Her jet-black hair was tied neatly back. A small wound on her temple, a result of that morning's training, had yet to heal completely.
"If justice is only revenge…" she whispered Gion's words softly, "…how are we any different from them?"
Flashes of the men's laughing faces as they sold her resurfaced in her mind. Elyndra gripped the hilt of the sword hanging on the wall.
"I can't forgive them," she murmured. "But… does that make me just like them?"
A soft knock broke her thoughts. Vice Admiral Gion entered, carrying two cups of tea. Her long black hair was tied high, and her posture stood firm in the white coat of justice that fluttered gently behind her.
"Still not sleeping?" Gion asked, sitting on the edge of Elyndra's bed.
Elyndra shook her head slightly. "The memories keep coming. Their faces. Their voices."
Gion handed her a cup of tea. "I used to be like you," she said. "Loss. Rage. The desire to kill every pirate I saw."
Elyndra looked at her, confused. "You?"
Gion nodded. "I let that rage guide me… until I realized justice isn't about vengeance. It's about making sure the tragedy never happens again."
Elyndra slowly lowered her gaze. Her eyes welled up, but no tears fell.
"I want to be strong. Not just to avenge. But… to protect. So no one ends up like me ever again," she said softly.
Gion nodded. "That's a good beginning. But remember, true strength isn't in your hands—it's in your choices."
---
The next day, sunlight bathed the main training ground of G-4. Dozens of soldiers trained in the distance, but on one side of the field, only Elyndra and Gion stood.
Elyndra wore a tight black training uniform, her hair tied high. In her hand, she gripped a short katana, deep blue-black in color—a practice weapon crafted specifically for her.
"Today, we test your resolve," said Gion, unsheathing her sword. "Not for revenge, but for protection."
Elyndra took a deep breath. "I'm ready."
They moved.
Gion struck first—fast as lightning. Elyndra barely managed to block. The first clash sent a sting through her palms, but she didn't back down.
"Your left leg is too stiff!" Gion called out, slashing again from the side.
Elyndra twisted her body, letting the blade pass beside her, then countered with a thrust toward Gion's shoulder. The vice admiral deflected it with ease, but this time, there was a faint smile on her face.
"Now that was an attack with intent. Again."
The duel continued. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Each of Gion's strikes tested the limits of Elyndra's technique and resolve. Dust swirled, the sound of wood clashing echoed through the air.
Elyndra held her breath. She jumped back, then lunged forward with a series of rapid strikes. Her body moved like a shadow in constant motion.
"Three, two, one…" Gion murmured.
Elyndra's slash nearly grazed her shoulder.
Clang!
Gion parried with one hand, then thrust her palm into Elyndra's abdomen, sending her flying.
Elyndra tumbled a few meters, then quickly rose again, breathing heavily. Blood trickled from her temple once more, but her eyes didn't falter.
"Again!" she shouted.
Gion looked at her, deep into her eyes. "One more hour. If you last, you'll move up a rank."
Elyndra gave a faint smile. Not one of joy—but the smile of someone who refused to fall again. Who refused to be a victim.
"My vengeance hasn't died out," she whispered. "But it's not the only thing that defines me."
She charged forward. Again and again. Beneath the Paradise sun, at G-4 Base, a black-haired girl forged herself—not for vengeance, but to rise beyond her past.