Theresa followed Archer through the surreal expanse of the Counter Force, her mind still turning over his words. The silence between them felt heavy, but not oppressive. She sensed that Archer wasn't one to speak unnecessarily, and she decided to respect his rhythm for now.

After what felt like hours, the terrain shifted subtly. The ground beneath their feet became more defined, resembling stone, and the ambient light dimmed, casting long shadows. Archer stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

"This is as good a place as any," he said, motioning to the empty expanse around them. "If you're going to survive as a Counter Guardian, you'll need to understand what that entails—physically, mentally, and morally."

Theresa tilted her head slightly. "I thought you wanted to keep it surface level?"

Archer gave a faint smirk. "You'll find no such thing as surface level in this job. Every action we take, every life we save—or end—cuts deeper than you expect. But for now, let's start with the basics."

He stepped back, crossing his arms as he assessed her. "Tell me about your combat experience. How did you handle yourself in Babel?"

Theresa straightened, her red eyes meeting his steel-gray gaze. "I led from the front whenever I could. I didn't believe in sending others into danger without being willing to do the same. My Originium Arts are my strengths, though I also relied on strategy and the trust I have in my people."

Archer nodded thoughtfully. "Good. That mindset will help you here, though you'll find it tested in ways you can't imagine. You'll fight alone more often than not. And when you do work with others, trust will be a luxury."

Theresa frowned slightly. "Is that how it's always been for you? Fighting alone?"

"Mostly," Archer admitted, his tone flat. "Counter Guardians aren't exactly a team. We're deployed when and where a disaster happens, with little regard for coordination or camaraderie. You'll need to learn to rely on yourself above all else."

Theresa's gaze softened. "That sounds… lonely."

Archer shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Loneliness is the least of your worries when the job is to clean up humanity's messes."

Theresa hesitated, sensing an opportunity to learn more about him. "And how did you come to this? Becoming a Counter Guardian, I mean."

Archer's smirk faded, replaced by a shadow that crossed his face. "I made a deal," he said. "I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. Saving people, giving them hope." He let out a bitter chuckle. "Sound familiar?"

Theresa's chest tightened at the parallel. "And do you regret it?"

Archer's eyes flicked to hers, sharp and piercing. "Every day," he said quietly. "But regret doesn't change the past. All you can do is keep moving forward, whether you like it or not."

Theresa didn't look away, holding his gaze with quiet determination. "Maybe so," she said softly, "but regret isn't the only thing that defines us. We can still find meaning in what we do."

Archer stared at her for a long moment. His eyes searched for something in her own. He then closed his eyes and sighed.

He stepped back and gestured to the space around them. "Enough talk. Let's see what you're capable of. Show me how the King of the Sarkaz fights."

Theresa drew a deep breath, steadying herself. She wasn't sure what kind of training Archer had in mind, but she was ready.

Archer's eyes flicked to the air surrounding Theresa, noticing the subtle shift around her.

Theresa gave a small, determined smile. "I'm ready when you are, Archer."

For the first time, Archer allowed a hint of genuine amusement to show. "Good. Then let's begin."

He raised a hand, and the space around them shifted, solidifying into a battleground that seemed to echo with the weight of countless battles. Theresa's hands clenched as Archer stepped forward, his presence radiating challenge.

She had no idea what lay ahead, but one thing was certain: this was only the beginning of her journey as a Counter Guardian. And no matter how much it tested her, she would face it head-on, just as she always had.

The battleground Archer summoned was stark and brutal, a barren field littered with ghostly remnants of past conflicts. Broken weapons jutted from the ground, and the air carried a faint metallic tang of blood. Theresa tightened her grip on her sword, her posture steady. Across from her, Archer stood relaxed, his arms folded, but his steel-gray eyes watched her with unrelenting scrutiny.

"No time for hesitation," Archer said, his voice cutting through the silence. "The first lesson in being a Counter Guardian: your enemy doesn't wait for you to find your footing. Move."

Theresa barely had time to process his words before the ground beneath her feet quaked. A group of shadowy figures materialized, taking on the form of soldiers armed with crude weapons. Their movements were jerky but aggressive, their focus locked entirely on her.

Her instincts kicked in. With a sharp exhale, her arts surged. Four black balls began to spin around her. One of the shadowy figures moved to attack her. With a flick of her eyes, the black ball flung itself into the attacker causing it to dissolve into nothingness. Her golden eyes narrowed, focusing on the rhythm of the fight.

From the sidelines, Archer watched, arms still crossed. "You're quick," he remarked, though his tone was neutral. "But you hesitate. You're holding back."

Theresa didn't reply, too occupied with the relentless shadows. She dispatched another, only for three more to appear. Her breath quickened as she realized the truth: there was no end to them. Every shadow she brought down was replaced by another.

"Archer!" she called, her voice edged with concern. "What's the point of this? It's never-ending!"

Archer stepped forward, his eyes glinting. "Exactly. Do you think battles like these have clean endings? In our line of work, you fight not because you can win but because it's necessary. The enemy doesn't stop, and neither can you."

Theresa faltered for a split second, and a shadowy figure lunged at her, its weapon slashing across her arm. She winced but didn't fall, retaliating quickly that it erased the attacker.

"You're used to fighting with hope as your anchor," Archer continued, his voice sharp. "That won't work here. The battles we fight aren't for hope or victory—they're for survival. For balance. Learn that, or you'll break."

Theresa gritted her teeth, her frustration mounting. "I don't believe that. Even in this… place, there has to be more than survival."

Archer's expression darkened, but he said nothing. Instead, twin swords appear in his hands. Theresa catches the sight and is slightly enamored by the beauty of the pair. With fluid precision, he leaped into the fray, cutting through the shadows with ease. Each strike was deliberate, every movement efficient as if he had done this a thousand times before.

"Watch," Archer said coldly as he disintegrated another shadow. "This is what you'll become. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just action."

Theresa paused for a heartbeat, her eyes locked on Archer as he moved. His skill was undeniable, but there was something hollow about the way he fought—a mechanical precision that lacked the fire of purpose. She clenched her jaw and stepped back into the fight, more of her Eternal Dust appeared to attack the assailants.

The tide began to shift, the shadows thinning as Theresa's movements grew more deliberate. She adapted, her strikes becoming faster, sharper, and more decisive. Archer watched her out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable.

When the last shadow fell, the battlefield stilled. Theresa stood amidst the dissipating mist, her chest heaving and her arm stinging from the earlier strike. She turned to Archer, her gaze defiant.

"I see what you're trying to teach me," she said, her voice steady despite the exhaustion. "But I won't fight without purpose. Not now, not ever."

Kanshou and Bakuya disappear into motes of light, his steel-gray eyes meeting hers. "Purpose is fine," he said quietly. "Just don't let it blind you. Purpose won't save you when the weight of this job drags you down."

Theresa frowned but didn't look away. "And what keeps you going, Archer? If not purpose, then what?"

There was a long silence before Archer replied, his voice low and almost bitter. "Habit."

The word hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Theresa opened her mouth to respond, but Archer turned away, his crimson shroud billowing behind him.

"Training's done for today," he said, his tone final. "Get some rest. You'll need it."

Theresa watched him go, her hands clenching tightly into fists. Pity flickered through her eyes as she watched the man walk away. She didn't know what had broken him, but she was determined to prove that not all Counter Guardians had to walk the same path. If she could hold onto her hope and purpose, perhaps she could show Archer that there was still light in the shadows of the paths taken.

For now, she turned her gaze back to the strange horizon and prepared herself for the trials yet to come.

Author's Note: Happy Holidays everyone! Hope you're enjoying yourself on this day. Stay safe out there and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.