Follower of Devotio

Four days and nights went by. Every day, I felt more exhausted. Every night, I felt the presence gnawing deeper and deeper at my unconsciousness, further restricting my sleep.

The fifth day broke me.

PT was relentless that day—sparring rotations, endurance drills, and instructor oversight. I pushed harder than necessary. Harder than wise. When I returned to the barracks, muscles trembling, lungs burning, I collapsed without even removing my uniform shirt.

I remember thinking: If something is watching, let it.

I surrendered to sleep.

And something surrendered back.

I don’t remember leaving the bed.

But I do remember warmth.

A presence coiling around my thoughts, not invasive—guiding. Fingers tracing the edges of my discipline. Testing it. Pressing against it. There was a whisper, almost amused:

No thoughts. No indivuality. Shared purposes make us strong. Our master gives us power

I want to serve.

Morning came like a command.

I opened my eyes and felt… fully recharged. My body responded instantly when I flexed my hands. My senses felt sharpened to a blade’s edge. I could hear heartbeats in the room. Besides the smell of my sweaty leather uniform, I smelled the faint metallic tang of fear from the bunk across from mine.

There, my roommate looked shaken.

He said I had been moving unusually at night. Turning my head, staring towards him, yet not looking at him.

He said he thought I was messing with him, because I spoke in my sleep. A soft whisper at first, unintelligible words.

Then louder, and louder, and as my soft whisper turned into murmer and eventually speech at normal volume, I rose from my bed. Stood at the center of the room, and I said…

“mine” like it was a declaration.

The remainder of the night was silent. Just standing there silently, slightly shifting my weight from right to left and from left to right.

My roommate said he felt paralysed and suddenly fell asleep then, so he doesn’t know what happened further. Perhaps it was just a strange nightmare he had.

But when I dressed this morning, sliding into a fresh set of leathers, and I looked into the mirror, I felt it.

The warmth of the darkness, the sense of belonging, of serving something greater than me.

it felt… right. Like it had been waiting for me to grow into it. The contrast of immense power and absolute obedience to…

…to what? to whom?

The warmth disappeared, and with it, the connection I felt to this powerful presence.

Somebody or something had nearly taken control of me- had taken control of me- but for some reason stopped.

It left me with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. Never before had I experienced something like this. The sense of purpose, the belonging, the sensation of power all over my body.

It was just a short moment.

But that short moment left inside me a void I crave to fill.

If this is what the devotees and followers experience, then I don’t care what happens to me. I need more of it.

And I will chase it down.

Starting today, as it is the day the commander has summoned me to his office.

The commander’s invitation -or rather his command- has occupied my mind.

A week. He gave me a week.

Not punishment. Not praise. Anticipation.

If the commander had an order, he could have delivered it on the spot. That is how things work here: precise, immediate, unquestioned. Instead, he gave me a week. A measured pause. As if he wanted something inside me to ripen.

Sleep has not been kind since. More and more, I notice people changing around me. What I first considered mythos has turned into a normal part of my life.

The red-eyed followers have always unsettled me. Their obedience isn’t loud. It’s quiet. Seamless. They anticipate their devotees’ needs before a word is spoken. They shift formation without signals. Sometimes they turn their heads at the exact same angle, at the exact same moment.

I used to think it was discipline.

Now I’m not so sure.

Nights of fractured sleep left me functioning far below my normal level. At night, I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, convinced that if I turned my head too quickly, I would catch someone standing over me, awaiting instructions from a master I could not see.

I was sure that if I concentrated hard enough, I could hear thoughts that weren’t mine brushing against the edges of my mind—like fingertips testing a locked door.

Not forcing entry.

Just checking.

During the days, I’ve been on edge due to the ever-growing number of classmates who switched from being their normal, expressive selves to blindly obeying one of the devotees. Rather than individual cadets with their own thoughts and needs, they come across as an extension of their devotee.

One mind. One will. One master.

and one less classmate, I can share my concerns with.

One more taken by the hive mind. Individuality erased.

Something has changed at the academy, and I think the commander knew this change was coming.

Today during PT, my Taekwondo skills drew more attention than I intended. Having earned my black belt long before setting foot on academy grounds, the instructor singled me out without hesitation, ordering me to demonstrate and then correct my platoon--hands-on, under scrutiny. I could feel the shift immediately: the air tighter, the stares lingering a second too long. It turned out one of those stares belonged to a commander. I didn’t notice him at first--only the sudden silence when I finished.

Log of cadet Brandr

My first few days at the academy proceeded in a satisfactory manner. The Academy runs less orderly than it seems from outside. One might even say it's chaotic or amateuristic. One thing I learned from this is that if you want to have order, you need to bring it yourself. It's our collective responsibility as cadets to bring structure to our units, and so it is our individual responsibility to build good habits to support that.

Cadet Brandr enrolls into the academy placing himself into the domain of devotio. Although he is a bit nervous for his first days. He carries himself with a rare blend of discipline and responsibility, qualities that quickly set him apart within his new platoon.