Hello! A very quick warning that there are some explicit deaths in this chapter - nothing too bloody and it's well within the rating for this fic, but I'm just letting y'all know.

Year Eighteen

Rule #17: Win the Game at any cost

Mister Wilson, admittedly, had done this before.

He wasn't put off by the idea at all - he'd spent too much time covered in the blood of others to be frightened by death. But as he had been repeatedly telling the Luthors, despite the years of training Stormkrigeren had under her belt, she still had never taken a life. The only person she had ever had a chance to destroy in combat was Mister Wilson himself, and that would never happen, meaning that she had yet to take her first blood. It was a big step for any would-be assassin, with many failing to make the leap, but Mister Wilson had confidence in his student and considered it fit that she would make her first kill in her eighteenth year. She would pass the test and - though he hated the thought of it - continue in Luthor's Game.

He glared at the line of men standing against the wall opposite him, all strong and knowledgeable in the art of the kill, but most had angered their leader in some way, making them no longer useful to the League of Assassins' army of devotees, and so they had been sold. Despite their ritualistic tendencies, Mister Wilson preferred the way the League trained their warriors compared to some of the other schools of the art, and the poor souls before him would do fine for the lesson he had in mind today.

He pointed at one of the men, who obediently stepped forward and lowered his eyes. They all knew who he was and knew it would be best not to anger him.

Mister Wilson put a black sack over the devotee's head and tied his hands before taking the man by the back of his neck, leading him to a steel door that opened at their approach. They stepped into the large, white room, and Mr. Wilson immediately spotted his student nearby, standing to attention at his arrival. She nodded in greeting, and he returned the gesture, noting the sweat on her brow along with the small forge and anvil standing nearby.

"How did it go?" he asked casually, unable to keep the usual growl out of his voice. Stormkrigeren was used to his rough ways and did not flinch.

"The first blade did not temper quite as well as I had hoped," she answered without emotion, "But the second one cooled nicely and I managed to test it before handing it over to Dr. Schreyer."

"What style did you go with?"

"Kukri. Fifty-one-sixty steel with a paracord handle," was the reply, her gaze turned on Mr. Wilson's prisoner with an inquisitive look. Of course, she would be curious - this was likely the first stranger she had seen in years, and the sack hiding the man's features would only sharpen her interest.

"Concentrate, Stormkrigeren," her Teacher barked, and she ducked her head in apology.

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Wilson shoved the devotee to his knees and removed the hood, the man muttering something like a prayer under his breath when he saw the pair standing over him. The silver-haired man was known by all as a killer, easily angered and swift with his blades, but the young woman with piercing blue eyes was unknown to the prisoner - though she must be deadly as well to associate so comfortably with Deathstroke the Terminator.

"There's been a change of plans. We're not going to do practice drills today," Mr. Wilson stated, ignoring the devotee's utterances as he casually removing a karambit from the sheath on his belt and scraped his thumb against the sharpened edge, "We're going to be performing some tests instead."

Stormkrigeren flinched away from the bloodied blade as it emerged from the man's throat, his eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream, but he was already dead. And, she realized, she had failed the test.

Mr. Wilson nodded when he saw that she understood, yanking his knife out to kick the body aside before returning to the storage room for another victim.

The next man was allowed to remain standing as Mr. Wilson removed the hood, and Stormkrigeren was able to get a good look at his scarred face as he lowered his eyes in submission. She gave her Teacher another questioning glance, but Mr. Wilson simply shook his head and pressed a button on his wrist, causing gunfire to sound from hidden speakers around the Room. The devotee let out a frightened gasp at the sound, and it was only Mr. Wilson's grip around the back of his neck that kept him from cowering on the floor, while Stormkrigeren reacted unflinchingly, simply stepping into an on-guard position. This was nothing new - she had learned to work under fire in her ninth year.

The death was as much of a shock as the first, sudden and violent as Mr. Wilson easily snapped the victim's neck before confirming the kill with a slash at the man's throat, but this time she did not flinch. Mr. Wilson made no comment, shoving the body so it fell in her direction, yet Stormkrigeren had no trouble in pushing the corpse off and glaring at her Teacher's back as he went to fetch the next example. It had not taken her long to figure out what he was trying to do, because what was the point of training to kill if you never got the chance to use your skills? He was testing her metal to see if all those years of preparation had been in vain, or if she had become what they had groomed her to be. All she had to do now was pass the test.

Mr. Wilson opted for the third victim's abdomen instead of his throat, extending the death to last a torturous minute as the man screamed in agony. Stormkrigeren watched in silence, not allowing herself to react to the show of blood and destruction, until Mr. Wilson thankfully decided they had both suffered long enough and quickly put the man out of his misery. The student let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding and steeled herself for the continuation of the test.

Something about the next victim seemed a little off to her, the way he hesitantly shuffled forward betraying the fact that he could not see even without the black hood over his head. She gave Mr. Wilson an inquisitive glance, wondering why such a weak opponent had been chosen.

"We never kill without good reason, Storm," he explained, "If we decided to take the life of anyone we wanted to, we would be nothing more than mindless killers."

"Then what is the reason for taking their lives?" she asked, indicating the bodies on the floor, and Mr. Wilson nodded in approval of the question.

"There are many reasons: Firstly, it will further your training. There is only so much you can learn about making war without making death as well. Secondly, it proves your strength of will and prepares you for the Outside. And lastly..."

He paused, and for the first time actually looked at the corpses of his casualties, his gaze wandering to the man trembling beside him and down to the karambit in his hand.

"These men are all murderers, having taken lives without a second thought," Mr. Wilson replied firmly, "And the only way to stop them is to kill the killer."

His words hung in the air for a long moment as he let his student consider what he had said before he summoned her over. Stormkrigeren stood at attention an arm's length away, carefully keeping one eye on his weapon in case he wielded it unexpectedly, until he held it out to her.

"What is the best way to take this murderer's life?" he asked, grabbing her wrist to press the blade into her hand. She glanced from the bloodied karambit to her intended victim, taking in the man's posture and possible vulnerabilities. It would be an easy kill, made even easier by the fact that he could not defend himself, and the fight in her blood was roaring to be let loose. There was no hesitation as she stepped forward to strike the victim's forehead with her free palm, forcing the head back to expose the throat and allow her to sever the carotid artery in one fell slice. He died almost instantly, and worse, she felt him die. One moment his soul was there, vibrant and alive, and the next all that was left was his corpse.

In that moment Stormkrigeren realized that she held the power of life and death in her movements, and how simple it was to use it.

The reality of it was frightening. And exhilarating.

"Good," Mr. Wilson congratulated her, moving the body aside, "Again."

Another victim was brought out only for her to swiftly put an end to him under her Teacher's hard gaze, and the grim test continued as more men fell at her blade. By the third one, her hand was slipping on the thin handle of the karambit, slick with the blood of her fatalities, but she did not falter and pressed on with determination. She was swift and strong and deadly, each kill silent and efficient, no movement was wasted and she was in complete control of each fatal slash of the shining blade. Stormkrigeren was aware that she was trembling, though she did not pause to wonder why, the hunter's lust for blood keeping her focused on the task at hand. So focused, in fact, that it took her a moment to fully register Mr. Wilson's voice telling her that was enough for today.

She looked up at him as he approached her, the usual frown on his face as he held out his hand for his karambit back. For the briefest of moments, the hunter was still killing and willing to use the chance to kill her Teacher too, but Stormkrigeren shook off the idea and surrendered the weapon. Mr. Wilson gave her one of his signature glares. "You hesitated."

There was no use trying to hide it, and honesty had its advantages.

"I did," she admitted, unashamed as she met his steely gaze. Mr. Wilson nodded as he wiped the blade off and put it back in his belt.

"Normally I would punish you for something like this, but I think in this instance it can be allowed. It means you're becoming more independent," he told her, crouching down to dip his thumb in a puddle of blood from one of the nearby corpses. He straightened and she didn't flinch as he drew the warrior marks on her cheeks - the two pairs of lines traditional markings in the League of Assassins, signifying that the wearer was worthy of the title 'dangerous'. She had passed the test.

Mr. Wilson stepped back, still frowning as he gave her another order, "Don't forget what I told you."

"I will not forget," she promised.

"Say it."

Stormkrigeren pulled herself up to her full height, her hands folded behind her back as she recited, "No weakness. No hesitation. And no mercy."

"Good," Mr. Wilson nodded sharply, concluding the lesson. She silently watched him turn and pick his way across the battlefield to the door before he glanced back at her. "I won't be here for your night training, Storm."

She inclined her head in acknowledgment as the door slid shut behind him with a low hiss, and for a long moment, she did not dare allow herself to breathe. She had passed his test.

Something had to be done about the corpses, and she decided to stack them near the door of the supply room so they could be removed later, hefting the nearest one onto her shoulder when realization washed over her. These were all sons, maybe husbands, or even fathers who would never get to return home, all dead by her hand. Some would call it a tragedy and a murder, but Stormkrigeren knew she had simply done the world a favor by lowering the number of killers out there murdering its children. They had deserved to die, but their deaths had not been in vain and paved the way to her becoming the warrior she was meant to be. She carefully set her load down and decided to leave the bodies where they had fallen for a little longer, if only to remind herself what every moment of her life had been training her to become.

V*V*V*V*V*V*V

Though she hated to admit it, her resolve had begun to waver after two hours and collapsed completely after five. Working while surrounded by fallen bodies was more than a little unnerving, and her hands were still shaking from the ordeal when she finally began cleaning up the destruction from the test.

Stormkrigeren didn't have too much trouble moving the bodies back into the unlocked storage room, carrying them on her shoulders one-by-one to be stacked against the wall they had been lined up at only a few hours before. They had already begun to reek of death and the metallic taste of blood on her tongue was hard to ignore, but like always she managed to shut it out and carry on. The strong scent of bleach helped to get rid of the smell and the blood as she scrubbed the stains out of the concrete floor, taking the time to thoroughly clean up every drop until there were no traces left. It took a moment for her to realize just how hard she was gripping the scrub brush, her knuckles white as she scrubbed harder to drown out the voices in her head.

Stormkrigeren almost sighed in relief when the fluorescent lights finally went out to signal the end of her day, before she caught herself relaxing and quickly berated herself for the show of weakness. It didn't take long to prepare for bed and within a few minutes, she was curled up on her mattress in the dark, settling in to get some real sleep since she knew Mr. WIlson would not be there to wake her up for night training. It should have been a comforting thought, the knowledge that she wouldn't have to fight the losing battle that night, but somehow it only put her more on edge. Stormkrigeren massaged the back of her neck in an attempt to lose some of the tension pent up by her hypervigilance. It helped a little, but did nothing to ease her instinctual expectancy of an unprovoked attack.

"You're paranoid," she whispered to herself, flinching at her own voice. She was too nervous, which could cause her to lose concentration if it came to a fight. Breathing slowly, she rolled over onto her back and tried to relax into the mattress, practicing her mental clarity exercises as she listened to her breaths. Slow and even like a calm wind, unseen and methodical like footsteps in the dark.

Stormkrigeren pricked up her ears at the sound, immediately recognizing the low hiss of the automatic door closing and the tread of someone stalking through her Room.

"That lying bastard," she hissed under her breath, silently getting up to follow the intruder when she realized her mistake. Whoever was there was not Mr. Wilson, who despite his strong build moved with a natural quietness, while the unexpected visitor had a lighter shuffling step. Also, there was more than one.

It was another test.

One she would not fail.

Stormkrigeren tracked the intruder closest to her, waiting until he was near enough for her to incapacitate him with a sharp blow to the base of his skull. The man grunted as he collapsed, and she caught the body to quietly lower it to the floor, quickly locating the dagger in his hand which she used to slit her victim's throat. She sensed another man moving closer, probably to investigate the noise, and he too fell at her blade. Someone shouted, and she knew she'd been discovered as the remaining footsteps quickened in pace as they ran to find her. One's weapon swung dangerously close to her skull as she ducked beneath the blow and Stormkrigeren returned it by jabbing the man in the gut. His scream was cut off when she severed his trachea, but not before another assassin landed a slash across her back. She growled and turned on her heel to end the man's life, removing him from existence before he could get another hit in.

By now, anyone who was in the Room would have heard the scuffle despite her efforts to remain silent, and her keen hearing picked up more pairs of footsteps closing in. The first raised his arm to bring his sword down on her, only for Stormkrigeren to sense the movement and grab his wrist to pull him sharply towards her, incapacitating him with a debilitating kick in the ribs. She felt the bones snap beneath her foot but did not pause to relish the feeling as she relieved him of his weapon and used it to remove his head. The handle of her blade was slick with blood as she ended them, one, two, four men falling at her hand, until the fifth presented more of a challenge.

A few of the would-be assassins had sense enough to recognize that she could hear them moving, so they stayed rooted to the spot until the Stormkrigeren roamed close enough for them to strike. But she was much more versed in the art of fighting blind and fully expected the hit, though she expected it a moment too late. The blade clipped the edge of her left shoulder, drawing blood before she could lunge out of the way, yet despite the pain, she wasted no time for hesitation and immediately killed the man with her sword through his heart. The body fell to the floor with a thud, and for a long moment there was only blissful silence broken by her ragged panting as she listened for any remaining killers, but there were none left except herself.

Lights came back on, and she blinked in the sudden brightness as she took in the gore around her, still running on adrenaline and ready to continue the test, yet no more victims appeared. Stormkrigeren glared up at the Watching Room, baring her teeth in a challenge to try her skills again, but the only reply she got was the crackling of hidden speakers coming to life before Lex's voice echoed through the Room.

"Well done, my good and faithful Storm!" he praised her, "Let the Game continue!"