Hours later, Kaiden returned to camp with cracked armor and dust in his joints.
No one met him. No one congratulated him.
But the mission sigil now had a faint rune glowing on its edge.
One only high-level units received.
A rank mark. A silent upgrade.
________________________________________
He sat alone in his bunk, staring at it.
"Not trusted enough to command," he muttered. "But strong enough to use again."
He turned the sigil over.
His reflection warped in the metal — half man, half mistake.
"They won't unleash me."
He looked at his hand. It trembled faintly. Not with fear.
But anticipation.
"They're waiting to see what I'll do when the leash breaks."
The hall was dark, torchlight casting crooked shadows against obsidian walls. Kaiden's boots echoed louder than he liked. He'd been summoned — not requested.
The fortress was quiet.
When a demon base went quiet, it wasn't peace.
It was pressure.
He stepped into the war chamber — not the throne room, but close enough. High-command advisors lined the walls, their faces masked or half-hidden under ceremonial armor.
And at the center, standing beside a black podium, was the Demon Commander.
"Kaiden," he said without looking. "You survived again."
Kaiden didn't answer.
The Commander turned. His expression wasn't pleased or annoyed. It was something colder.
"Your usefulness has outlived our expectations."
"Congratulations."
Kaiden narrowed his eyes. "Is that a promotion or a warning?"
The Commander stepped down from the dais, holding a small, metallic crest — etched with runes that glowed red, then gold.
"You'll lead a squad now. A mixed one."
Kaiden took the crest without a word. The heat from it burned slightly through his glove.
"They won't trust you," the Commander added. "But they will follow. For now."
Kaiden turned to leave — but paused.
"And if I refuse the mark?"
The Demon Commander's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Then we put you in chains. Or in pieces."
________________________________________
The branding ritual was short.
The crest was pressed against Kaiden's shoulder, over the metal-flesh seam. It didn't scar like skin — it fused with the plating, a glowing sigil now bound to his soul-core. Like a badge. Like a lock.
They won't unleash me. But they're tightening the leash.
________________________________________
He met the new squad in the outer barracks.
Five soldiers — two demon-hybrids, one ogre brute, a shadow mage, and a stoic beastkin tracker. None of them saluted.
They eyed him with a strange mix of awe and contempt.
"That's the Rustbound? The one Arvan let live?" one whispered, not quietly.
"He's more machine than man," another muttered.
Kaiden didn't care.
He stepped forward, eyes cold.
"You don't have to like me," he said. "You just have to survive under me."
No one laughed.
________________________________________
Their first mission came by dusk: cleanse an overrun frontier outpost, suspected to be infiltrated by human-aligned spies.
It was a test.
For them.
For him.
They want to see if I'll lead.
If I'll obey. Or burn it all down.
________________________________________
As the squad prepared to march, Kaiden stared at the sigil burned into his arm. The glow was subtle now, but it throbbed in sync with his pulse.
A reminder.
You are ours. Until we say otherwise.
He closed his coat, hiding it beneath the collar.
Then whispered:
"Fine. I'll play your game."
"But I decide when it ends."