They moved at the same time.
No hesitation.
No warning.
The air shattered between them.
Aren stepped in first, his body reacting on instinct rather than thought. His fist cut through the space where she stood—
But she was already gone.
Again.
Fast.
Too fast.
A sharp impact struck his back.
Aren's body lurched forward as pain surged through him, his footing slipping slightly before he caught himself.
He turned instantly—
Just in time to block another strike.
Crack.
The force travelled through his arm, heavier than before.
Stronger.
Sharper.
"…too slow," she said calmly.
She didn't give him time to respond.
Another strike.
Then another.
Each movement precise, controlled, efficient—like she wasn't fighting to win.
She was testing him.
Aren stepped back.
Then again.
Then again.
For the first time since awakening—
He was being pushed.
"…you're relying on instinct," she continued, her voice steady even as she attacked. "That won't be enough."
Aren's breathing remained calm.
But his body—
Wasn't.
Each impact landed deeper.
Each strike carried more weight.
He blocked one—
Dodged another—
But the third—
Hit.
Pain shot through his side as he was forced back again, his foot scraping across the floor.
Behind him, the man watched silently.
No interference.
No help.
"…good," he murmured quietly.
"…this is exactly what you need."
Aren steadied himself.
His eyes locked onto her again.
Tracking.
Learning.
Adapting.
But it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
She moved again—
Faster than before.
Aren reacted—
But this time—
He missed.
Her strike landed clean.
The impact sent him crashing into the wall, cracks spreading from the point of contact as dust fell around him.
For a moment—
Everything stilled.
"…is that all?" she asked.
Not mocking.
Not arrogant.
Just… disappointed.
Aren didn't respond.
He slowly pushed himself up.
His body hurt.
His breathing had changed.
And yet—
His eyes…
Were different.
Because something inside him—
Had started to move.
The mark pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Faster.
Stronger.
The voice returned.
"Insufficient."
Aren's fingers tightened.
"You are failing."
His vision darkened slightly.
The girl stepped forward again.
"…if you can't keep up," she said, "…this ends here."
She disappeared.
Aren didn't try to follow her movement this time.
Because something else—
Had taken over.
"Adapt."
The word echoed through him.
And then—
Everything slowed.
Not the world.
Him.
His perception shifted, every movement becoming clearer, sharper. The sound of her footsteps, the shift of air, the tension in space—
He felt it all.
She appeared in front of him—
Striking.
Aren moved.
Not faster.
Better.
He turned slightly—
The attack grazed past him instead of landing clean.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Aren's hand shot forward—
Grabbing her wrist.
This time—
She didn't break free immediately.
"…you improved," she said.
Aren didn't respond.
Because he wasn't listening to her anymore.
He was listening to it.
The mark burned.
"Consume."
His grip tightened.
For a split second—
Something dark spread from his hand.
Thin.
Thread-like.
Reaching.
The girl's expression changed instantly.
She pulled back—
Hard.
And this time—
She broke free.
She jumped back, putting distance between them.
Her breathing remained steady—
But her eyes…
Were no longer calm.
"…what was that?" she asked.
Aren looked at his hand.
The darkness faded.
But the feeling remained.
"…I don't know," he replied.
Silence.
The tension shifted.
Now—
She was cautious.
"…you're not just unstable," she said quietly.
"…you're dangerous."
Aren took a step forward.
"…I told you," he said.
"…come closer."
But before either of them could move—
A new presence entered.
Heavier.
Colder.
More overwhelming than anything before.
The hallway lights flickered violently.
And then—
A voice echoed.
"Enough."
Both of them froze.
At the end of the corridor—
Figures stood.
Multiple.
Dressed in black.
Unfamiliar.
Their presence alone—
Was suffocating.
The man behind Aren clicked his tongue.
"…tch. Told you."
Aren's eyes narrowed.
"…who are they?"
The man exhaled slowly.
"…the ones I was talking about."
A pause.
Then—
"…an organization."
One of the figures stepped forward.
His gaze locked onto Aren.
Cold.
Calculated.
"…target confirmed," he said.
The air grew heavy.
"…capture him."
Silence.
Then—
Movement.