Part I: The Challenge in the Bunker

Alpha Spec-Ops Facility, a top-secret installation deep beneath the Nevada desert, was perpetually bathed in cold fluorescent light and the smell of sweat and gunpowder. This was the crucible where the U.S. Army’s most elite warriors were forged for the “dirty” and impossible missions.

It was the winter of 2046. In the windowless martial arts gym, the air was thick with animosity.

In the center, Reserve Sergeant Lyra Shannon, 24, stood opposite The Ten Giants: the Alpha-10 Special Forces team, the toughest members, recently returned from a tour in the Restricted Balkan Zone. Leading them was Lieutenant Jake “Hammer” Hayes, a man with a neck as thick as a tree trunk and eyes that constantly challenged authority.

Lyra was assigned here as a close-quarters combat (CQC) tactical advisor integrating new technology, a role Alpha-10 viewed as a personal insult. She was too young, too slender. For three weeks, Lyra had tried to introduce new techniques, only to be met with mockery and grudging compliance.

Today, Lyra was demonstrating a weapon disarmament drill. Jake Hayes, always looking for an excuse to undermine her, deliberately made a crude mistake.

“Lieutenant Hayes, that’s the third time you’ve gotten the sequence wrong. You’re holding the weapon as if it’s a piece of wood,” Lyra said, her voice sharp but completely calm.

Jake sneered, causing his nine teammates to laugh. “Come on, Sergeant Lyra. I used this sequence to take down five mercenaries in one night. I think it works better than your ballet routine.”

Lyra stepped closer to Jake, her eyes not flinching from his physical intimidation. “Failure is not something to be proud of. You are trained for perfection, not for lucky survival. Your combat sequence has a fatal flaw.”

“A fatal flaw?” Jake roared, his arrogance hitting its limit. “You want me to show you what a fatal flaw looks like, little theory girl? We are Alpha-10, we don’t learn combat from tiny dolls.”

Lyra offered only a faint smile. “Strength is not measured by muscle, Lieutenant. It is measured by the speed and accuracy of your decision. And you just made the stupidest one.”

That word was the trigger. Jake Hayes exploded in rage. He grabbed Lyra’s collar, yanking her up.

“What did you just say?” Jake gritted his teeth. “I’m going to teach you a lesson about rank and respect.”

The nine remaining soldiers immediately encircled Lyra, blocking all escape routes.

“We’re going to teach her a lesson about her place,” Jake ordered.

Lyra maintained astonishing composure. She didn’t struggle as Jake used his other hand to violently squeeze her throat. The nine other soldiers simultaneously reached out, gripping her neck and shoulders, making Lyra a victim completely restrained by 10 of the strongest men in the military.

“Listen up, kid,” Jake whispered crudely, tightening his grip until Lyra began to gasp. “This is our turf. You’re an outsider. Get out of here. I’ll report you fell.”

The challenging smile did not leave Lyra’s face. She was being choked, but a cold light, almost of pleasure, suddenly flashed in her eyes.

Part II: The Viper’s Dance of Destruction

In the instant Jake Hayes tightened his grip, Lyra was nearly out of air. But that’s when she decided to act.

There was no scream, no struggle of brute force. Only a sudden shift, a movement so swift it was hard to believe.

Lyra completely relaxed her body, unexpectedly causing Jake’s grip to lose leverage. She rotated subtly, using Jake’s own weight and grip to her advantage.

First Blink: Lyra swung her elbow forward with incredible speed. The target wasn’t Jake’s face, but the junction between his jaw and throat. The strike was surgically precise, aimed straight at the vagus nerve.

Minor Twist: Jake Hayes released Lyra, his body collapsing, convulsing involuntarily.

Second Blink: The two soldiers on either side, attempting to grab her arms, felt an unbelievably strong pulling force. Lyra used her hands to push lightly against their elbows, then spun around in a blur. Her right hand struck hard into the armpit hollow of the soldier on the right, paralyzing his arm. Her left hand twisted the wrist of the soldier on the left at an unnatural angle.

Result: Two soldiers dropped, one clutching a painful arm, the other grappling with searing wrist pain.

Speed: Everything happened in less than 3 seconds. Lyra never moved her feet; she only rotated on a single axis.

The remaining six soldiers, stunned by the rapid collapse of their three teammates, immediately reacted by attacking simultaneously.

Lyra moved. Not running or jumping, but a CQC dance. She disappeared among their clumsy punches and kicks.

She slipped past a hook punch, using her thumb to press deep into the intercostal space of the fourth soldier, making him scream in pain and gasp for air.

She used the fifth soldier’s shoulder as a pivot, spinning mid-air, and delivering a hook kick to the sixth soldier’s temple. The kick was light but carried incredible focused power, enough to cause immediate disorientation.

The remaining five soldiers panicked. They no longer saw a weak girl, but a robot programmed for annihilation.

The fight ended when Lyra turned her back on the tenth soldier charging toward her. She simply sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and executed a complex joint-lock maneuver that made him shriek and drop to his knees, forcing him to release his weapon (in this case, his fist).

In less than 15 seconds, The Ten Giants, the pride of the U.S. Army, lay scattered on the gym floor. None were seriously injured, but all were in intense pain and utterly humiliated.

Part III: The Shock Twist – The Source of Power

Lyra stood among the groaning soldiers. Her breathing was perfectly normal, showing no sign of fatigue. She walked over to Jake Hayes, who was trying to get up, his face a mix of shame and confusion.

“Lieutenant Hayes,” Lyra said, “I told you. Strength is not measured by muscle.“

Jake staggered up. “Who… Who are you? This isn’t Army martial arts! Where did you learn that?”

Lyra did not answer that question immediately. She looked at the ten soldiers with patient eyes.

“You train to be strong. I trained to be untouchable.“

She reached out, gently touching Jake’s wrist, which was trembling. This time there was no attack, only guidance.

“This technique is called the ‘Dancing Insect Method,’” Lyra explained, her voice softening but still commanding. “I don’t try to match your strength. I study your neural speed, your reaction time, and find the blind spots between your strikes.”

Jake Hayes stammered: “But… where did you learn it? No Special Forces unit teaches this!”

Lyra took a deep breath, and this was when the shocking truth was revealed.

“I didn’t learn it from any U.S. Special Forces unit,” she said, looking straight at Jake. “I was raised and trained for 12 years at the Combat Engineering Center Unit 731, under… Russia’s Top Close-Combat Task Force.”

The gym was plunged into a deathly silence for the second time, but this time it was heavier. Unit 731 was not a military training center; it was an elite prison-school where selected subjects (often gifted orphans) were indoctrinated with the world’s most advanced martial arts and body manipulation techniques.

“When the U.S. government discovered me, I was recruited not as a reserve soldier, but as a specimen to be reprogrammed for Project Nightingale,” Lyra explained. She revealed Lyra Shannon was merely an alias.

“You, the U.S. Army, spent millions of dollars on techniques I mastered by the age of 14. I was sent here not to advise, but to evaluate whether you could learn these things, or if you are just useless muscle against a real opponent.”

Lyra stepped back. “Today, you gave me your answer. You failed.”

Part IV: Alpha-10’s New Master

Jake Hayes slowly understood. The girl he had scorned was not a weak intelligence officer; she was a living weapon, a perfect combat technician who had been ’embedded’ in their ranks. And they had failed the first test.

No anger remained on Jake’s face. Only profound respect and a desperate will to survive. If this girl was the only way for them to advance, they had to yield.

Jake stood at attention, ignoring the pain. He looked straight at Lyra, his gaze shifting from challenge to absolute loyalty.

“Reserve Sergeant Lyra Shannon,” Jake said, his voice clear and resonant. “You are officially our Special Forces Master Sergeant, by regulation. You just took down all of Alpha-10 in 15 seconds. This is unprecedented.”

He bowed deeply, performing the martial arts ritual of seeking a master. “We were wrong. We were arrogant. We accept this defeat and ask you to take us as your students. Please train us. Teach us how to fight like you.”

The nine other soldiers, though still in pain, struggled to stand straight and followed Jake’s action. The ten most elite Special Forces soldiers in the U.S. military bowed simultaneously to the young woman.

Lyra nodded, accepting. The cold light in her eyes softened, replaced by the sternness of a true teacher.

“Good,” Lyra said. “The first lesson: Never use all your strength to defeat a weaker opponent. Because the weaker opponent might be a specimen waiting to unleash its true power.”

“From now on, I am the Master. You are the students. The ten Alpha-10 soldiers will be reprogrammed. And we begin by relearning how to breathe.”

She motioned for them to stand. Lyra had completed her mission: She didn’t need to prove her strength to the military. She forced the military to submit to it. The ten Alpha-10 soldiers were now ready to become the most terrifying task force the world had ever seen, under the command of The Legendary Master.