A tall, broad-shouldered man dominated the silent lobby. Unlike the others who were restless, he stood in absolute stillness; like a rock splitting the flow of the crowd. His black suit struggled to conceal the bulk of his tensed muscles.

  Jack — head of the security team.

  Ding—

  The elevator doors opened. The Prime Minister exited, accompanied by his advisor.

  Jack fell into position without an extra word; moving in his shadow, close but unobtrusive.

  "Hello, sir. The route is cleared."

  The Prime Minister nodded.

  "Thank you, Jack."

  "The main vehicle and the escort team are waiting at the entrance."

  The automatic doors slid open. The midday heat and the noise of the street rushed inside.

  Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, Jack’s eyes devoured the details. The reflection of light on the windows of adjacent buildings, the hand movements of pedestrians, the sound of cars... nothing escaped his mental filter.

  Suddenly, the jarring sound of a heavy motorcycle exhaust from the left intersection disrupted the rhythm of the street.

  A bike with two black-clad riders cornered at a breakneck speed and came straight toward them.

  Jack’s mind sensed the danger and reacted with unbelievable speed, as if time had stretched!

  His hand locked like a steel clamp behind the Prime Minister’s back, yanking him forcefully down and behind the armored car. He shouted:

  "Alpha Team, three o'clock!"

  The passenger on the bike half-rose and pulled a small Uzi submachine gun from under his jacket.

  Rat-tat-tat-tat!

  The sound of the barrage was deafening. The lobby windows turned to powder, and sparks flew from the bodies of the cars. One of the bodyguards collapsed, bloody, a hole ripped through his shoulder, dragging his numb body toward the rear of the car.

  Jack saw the scene through the open door of the vehicle. His composure was terrifying.

  He drew his sidearm. Two hands on the grip. He held his breath.

  His target: the armed passenger.

  Bang! Bang!

  Two consecutive shots. The first to the chest, the second right in the middle of the helmet.

  Blood and pieces of the helmet sprayed into the air. The terrorist’s lifeless body was thrown backward off the bike like a trash bag and rolled onto the ground.

  The bike lost its balance. The driver tried to control it, but the bike slipped and skidded for several meters with the sound of metal scraping against asphalt.

  The driver, who was wounded, pulled out his pistol, firing blindly as he limped and ran toward the alley opposite them.

  Jack pressed his radio:

  "Alpha and Beta Team, extract the subject! Emergency route!"

  Then he shouted to his second-in-command:

  "The other one is escaping. Follow me!"

  ***

  Elmira and Lucy were walking hand in hand. The colorful beaded bracelets they had made themselves clicked together on their wrists with every step.

  Lucy said worriedly:

  "Elmira... if my mom finds out my grades dropped, she won't let me come to your house anymore."

  Elmira squeezed Lucy’s hand tighter and said with a reassuring smile:

  "Don't worry. I'll teach you the parts you don't know. Did you forget? We’re a team. No one can separate u..."

  Her words were cut off by the dry sound of a gunshot and the screech of brakes from the main street.

  A few seconds later, a man with a crooked helmet and torn clothes limped into the alley.

  Elmira and Lucy froze.

  The terrorist could hear Jack’s heavy footsteps behind him. Death was chasing him.

  His wild gaze locked onto the two little girls.

  Hostages!

  The man lunged.

  Elmira, unlike Lucy who was paralyzed with fear, took a step forward with trembling legs. She held her hands out protectively in front of Lucy.

  "Lucy, run!"

  At that same moment, she felt the warmth of Lucy’s hands on her back.

  Her heart calmed. She is still here. She hasn't left me alone.

  Lucy’s presence slightly soothed the trembling of Elmira’s body. She thought Lucy wanted to lean on her.

  But... in Lucy’s terror-filled heart, no room remained for friendship or camaraderie.

  Those hands were not there to give courage, but to using her as a stepping stone to escape that hell.

  Lucy shoved Elmira forward with all her childish might.

  "No! Leave me alone!"

  Elmira stumbled and was hurled straight into the arms of death.

  Time stood still for her.

  As she lost her balance and fell, Elmira turned her head.

  Lucy... the one who had sworn they would always be together... was running away. She didn't turn back even once.

  A rough hand grabbed Elmira’s hair, and the cold barrel of a gun settled against her temple, but the pain of her pulled hair and the coldness of the weapon paled in comparison to the pain and coldness in her heart.

  ***

  The image of Lucy’s retreating back faded and turned to ash in the darkness of the forest.

  It was replaced by the terrified face of a little boy lying on the dirt, trembling. Just like her on that day... helpless and waiting for rescue.

  But here, no one comes to the rescue.

  Maria stood up. Warm blood left a trail from the gash on her forehead down her cheek, but she didn't even blink.

  Her mind booted up like a computer system that had been restarted. Warning lights turned off, and defense protocols turned on.

  Fear? gone.

  Pain? Ignored.

  Her shoulders, which a moment ago had been hunched under the weight of terror, became straight and firm like steel. Her feet locked onto the tree roots, not to flee, but to endure.

  The voice of the promise she had made to herself twenty-two years ago, in the middle of that crowded street, now resonated within the body of this nine-year-old girl:

  "On that day I promised myself never to be a victim again, never to wait for a hero to come. I would become the hands that offer safety, that impenetrable wall. "

  The masked man unconsciously pulled his hand back. The hair on his body stood on end. His criminal instinct sensed something that didn't align with logic.

  That little girl's eyes...

  They weren't the eyes of a child.

  They were the icy eyes of a veteran bodyguard who had become that very "impenetrable wall."

  Maria wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand. Her gaze scanned the forest environment: dense trees, uneven ground, thick shadows... my playground.

  With a voice that was too cold, deep, and calm for her childish larynx, she whispered:

  "Status Red. Protection Protocol activated."

  The man asked with confusion and anger:

  "What are you babbling about, kid? Get lost before I crush you!"

  Maria tilted her head slightly. Her gaze was locked like a laser on the man's movements.

  "I said... step away from my client, amateur."

  The masked man took a step forward. He raised his sword and gave a sneer that was hidden beneath his mask.

  "Alright, brat... if you're in such a hurry to die, I'll help y—"

  The sword cleaved the air with a sharp whoosh and came down.

  But the cold metal only cut through the air.

  The little girl was not there.

  In the fraction of a second the man had focused on striking; Maria had used her short stature to dissolve like a drop of ink into the thick shadows beneath the bushes.

  The man blinked in surprise. He looked around. The forest was silent, as if the earth had opened up and swallowed the girl whole.

  "Heh... hide and seek? Think you can hide from me? I can hear your breathing, little mouse!"

  At that same moment, a few meters above, on a thick, gnarled branch of an ancient oak tree, Maria had pressed her body against the trunk.

  She held her breath. Her small chest burned.

  Her nine-year-old body was screaming. The muscles in her arms, clinging to the branch, trembled from exhaustion, and her empty stomach churned. Adrenaline was the only fuel keeping her going, but Elmira, with her 31 years of experience, knew this fuel wouldn't last forever.

  Her eyes analyzed the situation with machine-like coldness:

  Situation analysis: Enemy — adult male, approx. 90 kg, armed with a sword. Me — approx. 18 kg, unarmed.

  Her gaze fell on the ground beneath the man's feet. Covered in slippery leaves and sloping steeply downward.

  Chance of victory in direct combat: Zero. Chance of victory using the environment: 80 percent. I only have one shot.

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  Maria slowly and silently reached into her pocket. She touched the stone she had picked up when she stood up. The coldness of the stone gave her focus.

  With precise calculation, she threw the stone toward the dense bushes to the man's right.

  Crack!

  The sound of the stone hitting dry wood rang out like a pistol shot in the eerie silence of the forest.

  The man reacted immediately. He turned his body toward the sound, putting his back to the tree where Maria was ambushing him.

  "You're there?! Gotcha!"

  The man stepped toward the bushes with his sword drawn.

  Now.

  Maria seized the opportunity. She pushed off the branch. A relatively long leap. Her body was fired into the air like a shot projectile. Gravity and acceleration joined hands.

  The man felt something. Maybe a change in air pressure, maybe a shadow falling over his head. He wanted to turn back, but it was too late.

  Maria spread her legs in mid-air and, right at the moment of impact, locked them around the man's thick neck.

  It looked like a child’s piggyback ride, but with lethal intent.

  Maria's sudden weight plus the momentum of her jump threw the man off balance.

  The man stumbled and bent forward.

  "What...?!"

  The sudden heaviness on his shoulders pushed him forward. He tried to resist and lean back to grab the girl, but the ground beneath his feet was sloped, and gravity worked ruthlessly against him.

  Maria grit her teeth. She gathered all the remaining strength in her childish arms, placed her palms on the back of the man's head, and with a muffled scream, shoved his head forward.

  Go down!

  This final pressure completely destroyed the man's center of gravity. His boots slipped on the slick leaves.

  With uncontrollable speed, like a felled tree, the man dived face-first down the slope and...

  THUD!

  The horrific sound of the man's face and skull impacting the trunk of a thick tree opposite them scared the birds off the branches.

  The man didn't even get the chance to scream. His body went limp, the sword fell from his hand, and he sprawled on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Maria had opened her legs at the last moment before the man's fall to detach herself, but she couldn't land properly. She fell sideways onto the hard roots of the tree and rolled a few times.

  "Ouch..."

  Pain twisted in her ribs, but she ignored it.

  Silence returned to the forest.

  The man was motionless. Dark blood poured from his nose and forehead onto the dirt, mixing with the leaves.

  Maria was panting. Her lungs burned, and her body shook. This weak body couldn't handle such pressure.

  She stood up, stumbling. The world spun slightly around her head.

  She stood over the man. There was no need to check for a pulse; the sound of the impact and the unnatural angle of his neck were enough to confirm death.

  She dusted off her clothes and whispered in a voice that still held the tremor of excitement:

  "Threat neutralized."

  Maria stood there for a few seconds. Her small lungs burned like a blacksmith's furnace, and her heart pounded wildly against her chest. Then, she moved her tired, worn-out body with difficulty toward the little boy, who was sitting on the dirt a little further away, staring at her.

  The boy was pale. His blue eyes were widened to their limit, looking with disbelief at a girl who was his age but had fought like a monster.

  Maria reached him. Her shadow fell over the boy.

  She tried to smile, but dizziness overwhelmed her. The world went black and white before her eyes. Her knees trembled, but she stubbornly kept herself upright.

  "Are... are you okay?"

  The boy opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly his look changed. His pupils locked onto a point behind Maria, and terror rushed back into his face.

  He screamed:

  "Behind y—!"

  His warning was late.

  A black shadow appeared behind her.

  Maria heard the whistle of the air, but her body had given out. There was no energy left to dodge.

  WHAM!

  The heavy kick of a military boot landed right in the middle of Maria's delicate spine.

  The dry sound of bone and Maria's muffled scream mingled.

  Her 18-kilogram body was launched into the air like a football, landing a few meters away on tree roots and dragging across the ground.

  Dirt and blood filled her mouth.

  Maria tried to get up. Her brain commanded: Get up! Fight!

  But her body was dead. Her legs had no sensation. Pain twisted like hot lead in her lower back. The adrenaline rush faded, and now, physical reality slapped her in the face: She was just a child.

  With half-open, blurry eyes, she saw the second attacker.

  A taller man, with light leather armor and daggers strapped to his waist. He looked with anger at his colleague's lifeless body and spat on him.

  "Useless idiot..."

  The man turned toward Maria and sneered:

  "I saw this lazy bum was late, so I came for him. Don't tell me he got beaten by a pint-sized puppy!"

  The man walked toward the boy, who was now leaning against a tree trunk on the ground.

  "They always say if you want something done right, do it yourself. These hired trashes are good for nothing."

  He reached out his hand to grab the boy by the collar.

  But...

  Maria, who was still conscious, saw a strange change in the boy's face.

  Fear had vanished from the boy's eyes. He wasn't looking at the man's face; his gaze was fixed on something right behind the man. A glint of hope shone in his blue eyes.

  No sound was heard. No footsteps, no breathing.

  Just suddenly... the tip of a broad, silver sword protruded from the center of the man's chest.

  The thick steel blade, without the slightest tremor or pause, had passed through the leather armor, the vertebrae of the spine, the ribs, and the muscle tissue of the man; just like a hot knife passing through a stick of butter. It was as if flesh and steel made no difference to that sword.

  The blade, now drenched in dark blood, flashed unnaturally under the faint forest light and created a slight vibration in the air.

  The man froze. He didn't even feel pain, because the cut was so fast and clean that his body's nerves didn't have time to transmit the message. His eyes stared in disbelief at the blade sticking out of his chest. The man opened his mouth to speak, but only a fountain of thick blood gushed from his throat.

  Behind him stood a calm, dignified shadow.

  A man in a white cape who his breathing hadn't even changed.

  Edward. The Commander of the Royal Guard.

  He held the sword as if he were supporting the weight of a feather, not the weight of a heavy man's corpse.

  Edward rotated his wrist with a smooth motion. Again, without any strain.

  Then he pulled the sword out.

  The man's corpse fell face-down on the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

  Edward flicked his sword with a quick, whipping motion. The blood separated from the blade with a strange force, and the sword shone like a mirror once again.

  Click.

  The sword went smoothly into the scabbard.

  Edward didn't even look at the corpse. He knelt in front of the little boy and bowed his head.

  "Your Highness... I apologize for the delay. You weren't harmed, were you?"

  The boy let out his held breath.

  "E... Edward. I'm fine."

  Then, with a trembling finger, he pointed across the clearing.

  "That... that girl..."

  Edward turned his head. His cold, penetrating gaze locked onto Maria's small, broken body, covered in dirt and blood.

  Edward's brows furrowed slightly.

  "Who is she?"

  The prince said with a trembling voice:

  "She... she saved me. She defeated that big man..."

  Maria could hear them, but the words were stretching out.

  Saved... me...

  Her eyelids became heavier than mountains.

  Blackness rushed in from the edges of her vision and swallowed the last ray of light.

  Absolute darkness.

  ***

  Maria opened her eyes slowly.

  The first thing she saw was a high, pristine white ceiling with delicate golden molding.

  She moved her body. She waited for the rush of pain; the pain of smashing into the tree, the pain of the kick to her back, and the pain of hunger.

  But... there was no pain.

  Every single cell in her body felt calm and light. She breathed easily.

  The sheets beneath her were of a material she had never touched; soft as clouds, smooth as silk.

  She turned her head.

  A large, airy room with windows draped in blue velvet curtains. Even the carpet on the floor seemed more expensive than everything she had ever owned.

  Beside the bed, a young girl in a neat maid’s uniform (black and white) was sitting. She was wetting a cloth in a small silver basin.

  The girl looked up, and her eyes went wide.

  "You’re finally awake!"

  She smiled and quickly set the cloth aside.

  "How are you, dear? Do you have any pain?"

  Maria cleared her throat.

  "No... I'm good."

  The maid carefully placed her hand on Maria’s forehead.

  "Thank God. Your fever is completely gone. The Grand Healer knows his job well."

  Maria frowned.

  "Where am I? Is this... heaven?"

  The maid laughed.

  "No, not yet! This is the Palace Guest House for foreign dignitaries."

  "Palace?!"

  "Yes. You were unconscious for two whole days. You must be starving. Wait, let me go get you something. Don't move from your spot; you're still weak."

  The maid hurriedly left the room.

  Maria sat up, using the headboard for support. she was wearing a clean white nightgown.

  Two days...

  She thought to herself: "In my world, fractures took months to heal. Does magic exist here?"

  Her mind began to analyze. The last images... the little boy... the masked man... and that white-clad swordsman.

  Knock... knock...

  The door opened.

  The same man entered. Without the bloody armor and the drawn sword, but he still held that same terrifying presence. Tall, with short golden hair and a white cape with a golden lion emblem stitched onto it.

  He wore a kind smile, but his eyes were sharp and analytical.

  "Hello, little hero. Heard you woke up."

  He pulled a chair forward and sat down.

  "I am 'Edward', Commander of the Royal Guard. What is your name?"

  "Maria."

  She paused for a moment and asked in a tone that tried to be childlike:

  "Why did you bring me here? I need to go home..."

  "Calm down, Maria. You saved the life of Prince Arthur, the Crown Prince of the realm. We couldn't let the savior of the Crown Prince die in the middle of the forest with those injuries."

  Edward leaned in a little closer.

  "The Prince told me how you defeated that giant man. He said you jumped from a tree and broke his neck."

  Edward's eyes narrowed.

  "Tell me the truth, Maria... how does a little girl know such a technique? That move was not child's play."

  Maria’s heart lurched. A bead of cold sweat slid down her temple.

  My cover is blown? He knows? I can't say I'm a 31-year-old bodyguard from another world!

  Maria swallowed her saliva. She tried to put on the most innocent face possible.

  "I... I just wanted to run away... I always climbed trees... I was the naughtiest kid in our neighborhood..."

  Knock... knock...

  The Angel of Salvation in the form of the maid entered. She had a tray of food in her hand.

  "Special soup from the Royal Kitchen!"

  Maria screamed internally: "I love you, girl! You saved me!"

  Edward gave a wry smile, as if he realized Maria had dodged the question, but he didn't press it.

  "Eat your food. There will be plenty of time to talk later."

  Maria put a spoon of hot soup into her mouth. The taste of fresh meat and vegetables caressed her tongue. She had never eaten food this delicious.

  Edward leaned against the wall.

  "When you are fully recovered, we will return you to your family. The King has ordered a large reward be given to them. Gold coins, land... whatever they want."

  The spoon froze in Maria’s hand.

  A heavy lump blocked her throat. The taste of the delicious soup suddenly turned bitter.

  Alice...

  The image of her mother, who would get happy with that watery soup, came before her eyes. If only this had happened a few days sooner...

  Edward sensed her heavy silence.

  "Do you have a family, Maria?"

  Maria lowered her head. A warm tear dripped into the bowl of soup.

  "It was just my mother... who died a few days ago. I am alone."

  Silence filled the room. Edward sighed. His gaze softened.

  "I'm sorry."

  He thought for a moment and continued:

  "If you have nowhere to go, I can arrange for you to stay at the palace. Maybe you can work in the kitchens or the laundry and have a warm place to sleep. It’s the least we can do."

  Maria wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve. She raised her head and stared directly into Edward’s eyes.

  Her look was no longer that of an orphan girl; it was the look of that hunter in the forest.

  "I don't want to wash dishes."

  "Then what do you want?"

  "I want to be like you. I want to fight."

  Edward raised an eyebrow. He gave a short, incredulous laugh.

  "Are you joking? The Way of the Sword is a path of blood and pain, kid."

  "I'm not afraid of pain. I proved that I can do it."

  Maria said firmly:

  "The Prince survived because I was there. I want to become strong so that never again... no one ever dies in front of my eyes."

  Edward stared into the girl's determined eyes. There was something in this child’s being that reminded him of his own youth. A fire that could not be extinguished.

  "Hmm... I’ve seen your potential. Your courage is insane, too."

  He nodded.

  "Alright. I will speak with the King. Instead of gold and coins, we will send you to the 'Royal Military Academy'. It is reserved for nobility, but they will accept you with my recommendation."

  Maria’s eyes sparkled.

  "Do they give food and a place to sleep there?"

  "The best. I will also cover your expenses and equipment. If you endure and graduate, I will personally induct you into the Royal Guard. Deal?"

  Maria smiled.

  "Deal."

  She paused a little, and her voice became quiet:

  "Just... can I ask for one thing?"

  "Say it."

  "Can I go home before that? I have to... I have to say goodbye to my mom."

  "Alright. Rest today; tomorrow I will send you with one of my subordinates."

  ***

  The Guard soldier held the horse's reins.

  "I'll wait right here. Take as much time as you need."

  Maria jumped down from the horse and stood in front of the mud-brick hut. The house that, until a few days ago, was her entire world.

  She entered. The smell of dust and her mother still lingered in the air, but the chill of her absence had taken over everywhere.

  She went to the broken cupboard. She hugged her mother’s old clothes and inhaled their scent.

  She cried. Not like a warrior, but like a grieving little girl.

  She remembered Alice. The woman who stood alone against the world so Maria could survive. She remembered all her sacrifices, only now understanding their true meaning.

  "Thank you, Mom..."

  Her eye caught the crooked rag doll lying next to the cupboard. Alice had sewn it with scraps of her own clothes.

  Maria picked up the doll and squeezed it tight. This was the only inheritance she was taking with her.

  When she came out of the house, she saw Mrs. Jenna running toward her.

  "Maria! My God! You're alive?!"

  Jenna hugged her tightly and wept.

  "We thought you died... we looked everywhere..."

  Maria gave a bitter smile.

  "I'm fine, Auntie Jenna. Things happened... I'm safe now."

  "Come to our house. Tony was very worried about you."

  "I can't, Auntie. I have to go. I'm going to a place where I can build my future. I just came to say goodbye."

  Jenna looked with surprise at the clean clothes and the waiting soldier. She realized that Maria no longer belonged to this neighborhood.

  " Take care of yourself, my child..."

  ***

  Maria stood before the small dirt mound, without even a simple headstone. The only marker was a rough piece of wood upon which Tony—Jenna’s husband—had carved the name "Alice" with a knife.

  She knelt slowly. It was not the shaky collapse of a grieving child, but the solemn posture of a knight paying respects.

  She reached out, plucking the freshly sprouted weeds from the earth. The soil felt cold and coarse against her skin.

  "Mom... I’m leaving."

  She swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice steadying.

  "If only I had remembered who I was sooner, maybe you’d still be alive... maybe I could have saved you."

  She clenched her fist against the dirt.

  "But 'what-ifs' don't bring back the dead."

  A stubborn tear slid from the corner of her eye, but Maria wiped it away furiously. She no longer had the right to be weak.

  She lifted her fist from the earth and pressed it against her heart.

  "But I promise... I will live a life that makes you proud. I won't be weak anymore. This new life will be the answer to all your love and sacrifice."

  Maria stood up, dusting the dirt from her knees.

  Behind her, she left her mother's grave and the life of the slums.

  Ahead, lay the palace that awaited her.