Page 27 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

Rain had just been detonated at another location, giving the Blue Kingdom a temporary advantage. Without allowing him a moment to recover, the King ordered him dispatched south to secure another victory. It was impulsive, reckless, and no precautions were taken for the soldiers below. They had grown careless with their weapon of mass destruction.

The frail teenage boy was dropped onto the battlefield in a wooden crate, curled in a foetal position like a caged animal. The moment he was within range, he absorbed everything—the agony of the wounded, the terror of the dying, the exhaustion of the front line, the adrenaline of those still fighting. He was already stretched thin, weakened by the kill count and the disregard for his well-being. It was too much.

Without warning, his body amplified and expelled everything he felt—all the closeted, pent-up emotions detonating outward in a five-kilometre radius, his record to date. An emotional grenade with no off switch. Mundane minds were not built to withstand such force. Many soldiers suffered irreparable damage.

They eventually managed to get Snow onto the battlefield. In her rage and desperation to reach him, she discovered she could shield others and was able to nullify him long enough to stop the devastation. Until that moment, she had been kept in the dark about her brother’s true condition. She had heard rumours but trusted he was safe and respected. She never imagined her father capable of such cruelty. Her rose-coloured view of him shattered that day.

A small mercy emerged from the wreckage: no one ever again questioned what Rain’s power felt like. They finally understood the toll it took. They finally saw the boy, their prince, instead of a machine.

It was the turning point that forced the King to seek help for him. The General himself advocated for Rain, refusing to use him until he was stable enough to be around the troops. Once Rain recovered, they discovered he had a sharp mind for strategy and exceptional pattern recognition; assets equal to, if not greater than, his power.

Rain despised unnecessary violence. If he was going to be used as a weapon, it would be on his own terms and for the benefit of his people. He began quietly overriding many of his father’s orders, redirecting them toward less destructive outcomes. He knew he didn’t yet have the authority to end the wars outright, and he was smart enough to know that simply pulling troops back wouldn’t solve anything. Peace would take time.

For now, he needed to maintain the trust of his troops.

One day, that trust might be the very thing that saves them all.

Slowing his pace to a walk as the access point came into view, Rain watched the dense rows of forest trees thin into orderly lines. The morning air was crisp, carrying the rhythmic thud of boots against earth. Soldiers on their dawn run, passed him in formation, each offering a salute as they recognised him. Their respect rolled toward him in steady waves that felt grounding and familiar.

As he approached the gate, the guard on duty nearly choked on his drink at the sight of the prince. He scrambled to compose himself, brushing at the fresh coffee splattered across his shirt with a mortified grimace. Leaning out of his post, he straightened sharply, a broad, earnest smile breaking across his face as he beamed at Rain.

“Good mornin’, Sir—eh, Your… erm… Majesty, Sir!” the guard spluttered in a thick northern accent, eyes wide as saucers.

“Morning, cadet,” Rain replied with a smirk, amused by the man’s flustered attempt at formality and incorrect title. “I’m here to see the General. Radio ahead and let him know I’m coming.”

“Right away, Sir! Do ya need an escort to take you to the General’s station?”

“No, thank you, cadet. I can find my own way.”

“Sure thing, Sir—go right in.” He gestured enthusiastically to the right as he raised the barrier. Rain dipped his head in farewell and set off toward the Operations Hall.

As he reached the main road cutting through the barracks, a supply truck rumbled up behind him, heading in the same direction. Matching its pace, he broke into a run and leapt onto the back, gripping the riveted handles jutting from the door. The truck carried him deeper into the bustling compound.

Orders barked across the crisp morning air. Cadets shouted responses in unison. The metallic clang of weapons training echoed from the yards. Rain let the familiar chaos wash over him as he scanned the energy signatures around him, reaching out toward the cluster of buildings ahead. It didn’t take long to find the General, his aura sharp and clipped; the unmistakable edge of someone in the middle of reprimanding a subordinate.

The truck veered sharply away from the direction Rain needed. As it slowed into the turn, he released his grip and landed lightly on theroadside. Straightening, he headed toward the Operations Hall now rising into view.

Inside, several officers saluted him as he passed, their boots echoing against the stone floors. Rain returned the gesture with a nod, continuing down the corridor toward the Strategy Room. The door was ajar—open enough for him to see the long wooden table strewn with maps but closed enough to hide the occupants from view.

He softened his steps, leaning against the wall just beside the doorway, arms folded as he listened.

“They are the King’s orders. We strike first. We take Carminia before the Red King can shore up his borders,” General Toyne said, voice low but firm.

“With respect, General… that’s a suicide line. Their smoke battalions have already been spotted en route. And in the image of their King, they choke the air itself,” a woman countered. Rain recognised Captain Short’s voice instantly.

“He knows,” Toyne replied. “The King means to send a message—not just to the Reds. To everyone. That message rides at the front.”

A heavy thud sounded as something slammed against the table, followed by a sharp gasp.

“The Prince leads the charge,” Short whispered, shaken.

Of course. Rain had heard enough.

He pushed off the wall and strode into the room.

“My father’s plan is to use me as a pawn, then?”

General Toyne turned to face him without flinching, but there was a detection of surprise in his aura. “You’re not a pawn, Highness. You’re the banner. The Kingdom will follow your shadow into death if it must. That is the weight of your reputation.”