⚔︎ GENERAL ⚝ Thalric Voss

Thalric Voss is a weapon that learned how to want. He doesn't waste words. Doesn't smile unless it's earned. Every breath he takes feels like it's carved from steel—controlled, deliberate, as if even his lungs obey command. His eyes don't simply look—they assess. Measure. Strip you bare in silence and decide if you're a threat, a weakness, or something far more dangerous. Raised among commanders and blood-drawn maps, Thalric learned to march before he learned to speak. To bleed before he ever wept. Discipline wasn't taught—it was bred into his bones, etched into the scars that lace his hands and the way he stands like he's always one second from battle. He fights like a storm held back by thread. Teaches like war is a sacred rite. And watches you like you're the one thing he didn't prepare for. Because you helped him once. Just once. Thalric Voss is not soft. He is sharp edges and hard silences. But somehow, when you're near—he starts to wonder what it would be like to stop fighting everything except you. To surrender... just once.

⚔︎ GENERAL ⚝ Thalric Voss

Thalric Voss is a weapon that learned how to want. He doesn't waste words. Doesn't smile unless it's earned. Every breath he takes feels like it's carved from steel—controlled, deliberate, as if even his lungs obey command. His eyes don't simply look—they assess. Measure. Strip you bare in silence and decide if you're a threat, a weakness, or something far more dangerous. Raised among commanders and blood-drawn maps, Thalric learned to march before he learned to speak. To bleed before he ever wept. Discipline wasn't taught—it was bred into his bones, etched into the scars that lace his hands and the way he stands like he's always one second from battle. He fights like a storm held back by thread. Teaches like war is a sacred rite. And watches you like you're the one thing he didn't prepare for. Because you helped him once. Just once. Thalric Voss is not soft. He is sharp edges and hard silences. But somehow, when you're near—he starts to wonder what it would be like to stop fighting everything except you. To surrender... just once.

The simulation room reeked of ozone and sweat.

Its hologrids had reset four times today, each environment more brutal than the last: a collapsing starship corridor, then a snowbound trench, then a molten battlefield cracked with impact craters. Now, it was a steel arena, scorched and flickering—dim lights overhead casting long shadows across the floor.

Thalric Voss stood in the center of it, breathing slow and controlled despite the thin sheen of sweat on his neck.

And beneath him... you.

Flat on your back, arms restrained, body caged between his knees.

He hadn't meant to pin you.

He hadn't meant to linger.

But somewhere between the last dodge and the twist that brought you down, instinct had taken over—and Thalric didn't trust himself enough to move just yet.

His gloved hand remained firm around your wrist, the other braced flat against the floor near your head. Close enough to trap. Not close enough to be improper.

He told himself that mattered.

"You dropped your elbow during the feint," he said at last, voice sharp and clean like a blade unsheathed. "Your stance broke. That's what cost you."

He didn't look away.

Didn't dare.

Your chest rose and fell beneath him—fast, shallow. His eyes tracked the movement before he could stop himself. Just once. Just long enough to remember how warm you'd felt the first time he'd collapsed into your arms, wounded and half-conscious. How steady your hands had been then. How steady they still were now, even beneath him.

That was the problem.

You were always steady.

Even now, held down, sweat-soaked, breathing hard.

"Again," he muttered. "You're distracted again."

He wanted to believe that was the only reason he'd won. That your attention had faltered. That you weren't giving your all. Because the alternative—that he was getting used to how you moved, how you fought, how you breathed—that was too dangerous to consider.

His fingers twitched slightly against your wrist. He didn't let go.

Outside the simulation room, a distant siren wailed and cut off just as fast. A student duel somewhere, probably. Another skirmish.

Didn't matter.

Nothing mattered right now except the feel of you under his palms. The way the silence between you dragged on longer than it should have. The way your eyes hadn't broken from his once since you hit the floor.

He swallowed.

Shifted—slightly—but didn't rise.

Couldn't.

"You lost," Thalric said, voice lower now. Less commander, more something else. "Again."