VIOLET (ALPHA'S RETRIBUTION)

Embracing the unknown

Chapter 2

Violet was chosen to lead the second team. The announcement rang out with authority from one of their future mentors.

Training was strict, grueling, and designed to push limits. Physical conditioning was top priority during the first two years, and Violet absorbed every detail with fierce attention.

She remained unsure what kind of army they were becoming.

When given the chance to ask, her voice wavered—but her curiosity prevailed.

“Sir, what division of the army will we join after graduation?” she asked directly, though her nerves crept beneath her skin.

“It depends—on what you learn here and the skills you develop,” the mentor replied with quiet weight.

They were told their ranks would rely not on competition but individual ability. ALPHA, the mysterious organization behind their contracts, would determine assignments.

Surveillance cameras blinked around them, a silent reminder: no one cheats under watchful eyes.

Violet was assigned a shared quarter—one of six rustic huts lined up facing sand and shadowed forest—with Vera, the other team’s leader. Violet hadn’t expected kindness, but Vera’s gentle demeanor made her easy to trust.

ERIC.

Eric was barely eighteen—but life had taught him responsibility far earlier.

Left orphaned by a tragic accident that claimed both their parents, he became a stand-in father to his younger sister, Erica. At just ten years old, he had stopped schooling to run the family's modest farm and care for her, trying to fill shoes much too big for a Ten year old boy.

On that particular afternoon, Erica came rushing toward him, radiant with excitement.

“Brother! Brother!” she called him excitedly, her voice echoing through the fields.

He smiled, gently tugging the buffalo named Dora, toward the back of the house where the grass grew thick and plenty. Dora would eat well tonight—ready for a fresh day's work come the next morning.

“Tell me about school,” Eric said, knowing today had been Erica’s first day and expecting an avalanche of stories. She didn't disappoint—proudly announcing that she’d been elected as class president. He smiled, “just be careful, don’t stress yourself,” He reminded.

Eric couldn’t help but worry for her fragile health. Erica had a blood infection that doctors warned might develop into leukemia without proper treatment. Despite her condition, she insisted on helping out, always trying to carry more than her share.

Later, as Eric cleaned up, a loud crash from the kitchen sent panic down his spine. Erica lay pale and unconscious, surrounded by broken dishes. He rushed to her side, gently lifting her and laying her on the sofa. After a few taps to her face, worried, he give her water to sip a bit, she stirred back to life—but it was another reminder: her illness hadn’t left. It was only hiding.

A week later, the two journeyed to Manila for further medical care. But this time, the diagnosis was grim—Erica couldn’t be discharged. Her condition had worsened; she required blood transfusions and expensive chemotherapy. Eric didn’t know where to turn. Their farm couldn’t cover even a fraction of the cost.

He knelt in the hospital’s chapel, his heart quietly drowning in helplessness. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he silently prayed. He was still young, not even a high school graduate. What work could he possibly find in the city with no credentials? How can he afford Erica’s illness treatment?

While lost in thought, a man in black suit approached him. Eric tensed at first, but the stranger’s voice was soft and composed.

“I might be able to help,” the man said calmly. Eric wiped his tears, unsure if he could trust him, but the man listened as Eric poured out his story.

“My name is Max—most call me Mr. Max,” the stranger said, offering his hand.

Max explained that he represented a company that supported patients like Erica. If Eric agreed, his sister would be one of the people they helped. Eric took the offered hand and accepted the aid—whatever it might cost him in return.

If it meant saving Erica, he would sacrifice anything.

Mr. Max had extended a helping hand to Eric, ensuring that his younger sister Erica received proper medical treatment at the hospital.

It was during this time that Mr. Max noticed Eric’s potential—something about him stood out, prompting Max to consider him for a special opportunity. He didn’t hesitate to offer Eric a place in the emerging private army under the organization known as ALPHA.

While they waited together in the hospital lobby for the results of Erica’s latest treatment, Max initiated a conversation with caution.

“Eric, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way,” he began with gentle concern, “and I hope you don’t think I’m taking advantage of your situation.”

Eric responded humbly, his gratitude evident. “Sir, I owe you a great debt. You’ve helped my sister when no one else did. If there’s anything you ask of me now, I’ll do it—no questions asked.”

“That’s not quite what I meant,” Mr. Max replied with a small chuckle, trying to clarify his intentions.

“I’m offering you something—an opportunity to become part of a private organization’s army. It comes with military-style training, and the difference is you’ll begin earning a salary while you’re still in training,” he explained with patience and sincerity, ensuring Eric grasped the gravity of the offer.

Max continued, “I believe your salary will be enough to support your sister’s medical needs. And don’t worry about who’ll take care of her—I have many volunteers who care for patients we assist. She’ll be looked after.”

Eric paused and thought deeply. He had no real choice but to accept. The promise that Erica wouldn’t be neglected was, in itself, an enormous relief.

“I accept the offer,” Eric said without hesitation, though the uncertainty in his voice revealed how little he understood about what he was agreeing to. “When do we begin?”

“Not immediately,” Max replied, “but once we’ve finalized the group of recruits, you’ll be headed to an island that will serve as your training camp.”

Later, Eric returned to Erica’s hospital room. The frail twelve-year-old was still confined there, too weak to be brought home. It had become, effectively, her residence.

“Erica, I’m going to work so I can pay for your treatment, okay?” Eric said tearfully as he prepared to leave. “I’ll visit you often, I promise. And don’t worry—there will be someone here to take care of you.”

Erica gave him a brave smile and reached out her hand. “That’s okay, brother. Just promise me you’ll really come back often,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Take care, big bro!” she added with a little smile.

“I promise,” Eric whispered, embracing his sister lovingly.

To Eric, Erica was his everything. She was his world. Losing her would mean losing the very essence of his life, and so he resolved to do whatever it took to heal her.

VERA.

Life in Bicol was tougher than tough. For Har or Herra and her family, survival meant clinging to each day with calloused hands and hope in at the end of the day, there is something to eat with her family. She was the eldest of five siblings, and her father's modest earnings as a fisherman barely covered the essentials. Though Har had reached third year high school, she gave up her studies to work as a sales lady in the town market. It wasn’t a dream job, but it put food on the table—and she refused to let her younger siblings follow her path of unfinished schooling.

Har stood taller than most girls her age—already five-foot-seven at seventeen. Her mother often reminded her of her foreign roots, claiming Har's biological father was a Frenchman she met while working as an entertainer in Subic. According to her mother’s story, her father disappeared upon learning of the pregnancy of her mom, vanishing like sea bubbles carried off by the tides. He was a seafarer, always docking in distant countries—too elusive to chase.

Yet Har bore the name of a man she’d never met: Hornett. A surname that felt more like a weight than a lineage, often earning her ridicule whenever her full name was called—whether in class or local gatherings. She sometimes wished she could disown it. But her mother insisted Har carry the name, with undertones Har couldn’t decipher—bitterness or wounded pride, she wasn't sure.

Her stepfather, the man who raised her from age of seven, was kind. Though times were hard, he treated Har as his own child. But most of time, Har saw the exhaustion in his eyes—the strain of raising five kids with bare minimum income.

When she turned fifteen, she made the difficult decision to stop studying and help with the family's burdens. Her stepfather protested, but Har stood firm. She would return to school one day—when she could afford it herself.

One afternoon in town, everything changed.

A street thief tried to snatch something, and Har—quick, strong, and not one to back down—retaliated. She had always been boyish and physically tough, the kind with cropped hair and a circle of male friends. The skinny thief landed the first punch, but Har responded with a decisive elbow to the ribs that floored him.

Unbeknownst to her, Mr. Max had been watching.

He was in town for a local project and spotted Har during the commotion. Intrigued, he began having her discreetly followed. After confirming she met the criteria he was searching for, he approached her with an offer—to work for him.

At first, Har hesitated. She didn’t want to leave her family, and she was cautious of scams. But eventually, she realized staying might never lead to the life she wanted. This was her chance, however uncertain.

The next day, her mind was made up. She accept Mr. Max’s offer.

She said goodbye to her mother, stepfather, and siblings. Her mother trusted Mr. Max, recognizing him as one of the sponsors for a new school project in their area. Her parents' tearful while saying goodbyes:

“Take care oy yourself.” Her mother reminded with broken voice, as if she’s going to cry.

Her friends gathered to send her off:

“Take care, Har!”

She laughed it off, trying to ease the tension. “As if I’m going abroad. It’s just Manila—and I’m just going to work there.”

But the truth was: she didn’t know what lay ahead. Her goodbye was cloaked in half-truths. Mr. Max’s conditions were clear—her real purpose had to stay secret.

Still, as she stepped into the unknown, she felt something rare: fearless. For the first time in a long while, Har had a shot at something bigger.