[Vol 2.] Chapter 6: Signs of Betrayal

The sterile quiet of the infirmary was broken by the soft beep of the monitors. Yuki’s eyelids fluttered slowly, her breath shallow and uneven as she stirred from unconsciousness. The doctor standing nearby noticed immediately, eyes widening in surprise. “She’s waking up,” he murmured, stepping closer with cautious hope. “This is… sooner than expected.” Yuki’s fingers twitched slightly, curling around the cool sheets as her eyes blinked open, revealing sharp dark irises that scanned the room with a mix of confusion and determination. The doctor exchanged a quick glance with the nurse, who gave a small, relieved smile. “Yuki, can you hear me?” the doctor asked gently. Her lips parted, a faint rasp barely audible. “Yeah…” The doctor’s expression softened, but his surprise lingered. “You’re stronger than we thought.” Yuki’s gaze hardened. “I’m not done yet.” Yuki’s eyelids flickered as she struggled to focus, the sterile ceiling slowly coming into view above her. Every breath was a shallow fight, but with each inhale, strength crawled back into her chest. The doctor pulled a chair closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “You took quite a beating in that duel. The fact that you’re waking up now—it’s remarkable.” Yuki’s jaw clenched, a faint tension in her gaze. “I have to get up. I’m not staying here.” The nurse gently placed a hand on her arm, cautious but supportive. “You need to rest more. Moving too soon could set you back.” Her eyes narrowed, the fire behind them unmistakable. “I’ll decide when I’m ready.” The doctor exchanged a look with the nurse, then nodded slowly. “Alright. We’ll help you, but please—be careful.” Yuki’s fingers flexed around the sheet as she pushed herself higher on the bed, her resolve growing stronger with every movement. Outside the door, footsteps approached softly—Ren and Kaia, no doubt checking in, their concern unmistakable even from down the hall. Yuki’s lips curled into a faint, determined smile. “They’ll be surprised when I’m back in the dorm.” The door to the infirmary creaked open softly, and Ren stepped inside, her eyes immediately settling on Yuki lying in the bed. Kaia followed close behind, her face a mix of relief and worry. “Yuki,” Ren breathed, stepping forward cautiously. “You’re awake.” Kaia nodded, her voice gentle but filled with emotion. “We were so worried about you.” Yuki shifted slightly, sitting up a bit straighter, the faint lines of pain still etched on her face. “I’m fine,” she said, voice low but firm. “I’m ready to go back to the dorm.” Ren and Kaia exchanged a surprised glance. Ren opened her mouth to protest, but Yuki cut her off. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, eyes flicking between them. “But I need to move. I can’t stay here.” Kaia stepped closer, her tone softening. “We just want you to be safe.” Yuki’s gaze softened for a moment, then hardened again. “I appreciate that. But I’m not a child. I’ll be fine.” Ren finally nodded, a small smile breaking through her concern. “Alright. Let’s get you settled.” Together, they helped Yuki prepare to leave the infirmary, the three of them moving forward with a new determination — knowing the road ahead would be anything but easy. The three moved slowly down the quiet, dimly lit halls of the academy, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished stone floors. The moonlight streaming through the tall windows cast long shadows, flickering like ghosts alongside them. Yuki walked with a steady, deliberate pace, though every step still carried a faint trace of pain. Ren and Kaia flanked her closely, their eyes constantly flickering with concern. Ren broke the silence first. “You really shouldn’t be pushing yourself this hard. You need to heal.” Yuki shot her a sharp look. “I’m not going to be stuck in that bed waiting for things to happen. If I’m going to get through what’s coming, I need to be ready.” Kaia nodded, understanding but worried. “We get it, Yuki. But you’re not alone. We’re here for you.” Yuki’s gaze softened for just a moment before hardening again. “I know. And that means everything.” They reached the familiar door of their dormitory, its wood grain warm and worn from years of use. Kaia reached out, pushing it open as the trio stepped inside. For a moment, the weight of everything hung between them in the quiet room — unspoken fears, hopes, and the unbreakable bond that tied them together. Ren finally sighed, breaking the stillness. “We’ve got your back. No matter what.” Yuki’s faint smile was the only answer they needed. The dorm room felt both familiar and heavy with unspoken worries. Yuki eased down onto her bed, wincing slightly as a dull ache radiated through her ribs. Ren and Kaia settled nearby, their eyes filled with concern yet trying to give her space. Ren was the first to break the silence, her voice soft but steady. “You really scared us out there, Yuki. Facing a Full Moon Lunarch like that... it wasn’t just brave. It was reckless.” Yuki met her gaze, unflinching. “I don’t have powers like you two. I can’t afford to wait around.” Kaia gave a small nod. “We know that. And we’re not saying you’re weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” Yuki let out a quiet laugh, though it lacked warmth. “Strong doesn’t mean invincible.” Ren leaned forward, a hint of determination in her eyes. “We’re going to make sure you’re ready for whatever comes next.” Kaia glanced at Ren, then back at Yuki. “Together. No matter what.” Yuki looked down at her hands, bruised but steady. “I’m done running.” The room fell quiet, filled with a resolve that needed no words. Later, when Yuki drifted off to rest, Ren and Kaia exchanged a glance. Ren’s voice dropped low. “Zack’s visions… they’re not good.” Kaia nodded grimly. “We have to be ready. For her, and for everything.” But they kept the visions to themselves — at least, for now. The soft click of the bathroom door closing behind her muffled the quiet voices of Ren and Kaia in the dorm room. Yuki stood alone in the small, steam-filled space, the faint warmth of the tiled walls surrounding her like a fragile cocoon. She reached out, turning the faucet, and warm water began to spill in a steady, soothing stream. A mist rose, curling upward and cloaking the room in a soft, comforting haze. The scent of lavender from the gentle soap filled the air, calming the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. Yuki stepped beneath the cascade, letting the heat wash over her battered body. The water traced the bruises and tender bandages on her ribs, careful not to disturb them, yet coaxing the ache into a dull throb rather than sharp pain. Her hands moved slowly, methodical as she washed away the grime and sweat of the recent days—remnants of battles fought, fears faced, and moments of doubt swallowed down. Each touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if cleansing not just her body but the weight she carried inside. Her eyes closed, and she let out a shaky breath. The water’s warmth seeped deep, easing the tension in her muscles and softening the edge of the exhaustion gnawing at her spirit. But even here, beneath the soothing flow, the memories whispered—visions of shattered battlefields, the harsh glare of the Full Moon Lunarch, and Zack’s haunting premonitions. They pressed against her thoughts, relentless and chilling. Yuki clenched her jaw, the fire in her veins rekindling beneath the water’s surface. She refused to let fear claim her, refused to be broken by shadows she barely understood. For a moment, the water was more than just warmth—it was a shield, a fleeting moment of sanctuary in the storm. Slowly, the water cooled, droplets sliding down her skin like quiet tears. With one last deep breath, she reached for the towel hanging nearby, wrapping it tightly around herself. Stepping out, the cooler air kissed her damp skin, and she caught her reflection in the fogged mirror—a girl marked by pain but unyielding, eyes burning with a fierce resolve. She wasn’t just surviving. She was ready to fight. The dorm room was dim, lit only by the soft, golden glow of a desk lamp and the silver-blue sheen of moonlight filtering in through the tall windows. Ren sat cross-legged on her bed, idly flipping a pen between her fingers, while Kaia leaned against the window frame, arms folded, watching the courtyard below in thoughtful silence. The soft creak of the bathroom door made both of them turn. Yuki stepped out slowly, dressed in a loose black shirt and her usual combat pants. Her hair was still damp, strands clinging to her cheeks and the nape of her neck. The towel was draped around her shoulders like a cloak, her face unreadable—but her steps were steady. Ren sat up straighter, eyes scanning her closely. “Feel better?” Yuki nodded once, walking over to her bed and sitting down with a soft exhale. “Yeah… for now.” Kaia turned away from the window. “We didn’t think you’d be up so soon, let alone moving around like normal.” Yuki gave a faint smirk, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Pain’s just a reminder I’m still here.” Ren raised an eyebrow. “That’s not comforting.” “It’s not meant to be,” Yuki replied, toweling off her hair. “I just… needed to rinse the weight off.” Kaia moved toward her, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to carry it alone, you know.” “I know,” Yuki said, glancing between them. “But I still have to carry it.” A heavy silence settled over the room for a moment—one made of mutual understanding, not distance. Ren eventually broke it with a tired chuckle. “Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it, at least rest while being stubborn. You look like you’ve gone three rounds with a freight train.” Yuki huffed. “Felt like it.” She leaned back against the wall, arms folded over her chest. Her gaze shifted to the window, watching the clouds drift across the pale moon. “I don’t know what’s coming,” she murmured. “But something is. I can feel it.” Kaia followed her gaze. “We’ll be ready.” Yuki didn’t respond right away. Then finally, she nodded. “We better be.” The soft hum of morning crept through the tall windows of the dorm room, casting golden beams across the floor. Outside, birds chirped faintly beyond the tree line. Inside, the room was still, peaceful—until a sudden buzz echoed from the ceiling, followed by a brief click. “Attention all students,” came the clear, formal voice of the academy’s broadcast system. “Ranks E, D, and C — you are to report to the front courtyard immediately. Repeat: all students ranked E through C are to gather at the front of the school for joint training camp preparations. You are to arrive in full uniform. This is not optional.” The speaker let out a sharp beep before going silent again. From her bed, Yuki sat upright slowly, her muscles still sore from the day before. Her eyes blinked once toward the ceiling, then narrowed with focused calm. Ren groaned from across the room, already pulling her boots on. “Seriously? They couldn’t give us one more day of recovery?” Kaia stood near the closet, tying up her hair with a soft sigh. “You know how they are. As soon as you’re on your feet, they throw you right back into the fire.” Yuki stood, rotating her shoulder with a wince. “Fine by me. I was getting tired of lying around.” Ren shot her a glance. “Let’s just hope the training doesn’t include more flying through walls.” Kaia chuckled softly but didn’t comment. She was already grabbing her academy-issue jacket, marked with the Waxing Crescent Bloomcaster insignia on the sleeve. Yuki moved toward her locker, pulling out her gear with practiced efficiency. The matte-black combat jacket she’d worn during the duel was folded neatly, her sword now secured in a sheath built to rest comfortably across the small of her back. As she buckled the strap into place, her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror—bandaged ribs beneath her shirt, faint bruises around her collarbone, and that same fire behind her gaze. “I’m not falling behind,” she muttered. Ren clapped her on the back—gently. “Then let’s get moving.” The trio made their way out of the dorm, joining the steady stream of students from all over the academy funneling toward the front gates, uniforms crisp, chatter low, nerves and anticipation buzzing in the air like static. The Joint Training Camp had begun. The sun hung low, casting a warm glow over the academy’s front courtyard, where hundreds of students from ranks E to C gathered in neat lines, an air of seriousness replacing the usual bustle. Instructors stood at the front, observing with sharp eyes. Yuki, Ren, and Kaia moved through the crowd, exchanging brief smiles with familiar faces. "Ready for this? Whatever ‘this’ ends up being," Ren nudged Yuki. Yuki raised an eyebrow. "I don’t care what it is. Just tired of sitting around." Kaia chuckled, “As long as it doesn’t involve flying through another wall, I think we’ll be fine.” The trio stopped near their rank group, but Yuki’s gaze found Zack at the edge of the crowd, his casual posture belied by an unreadable intensity. They weaved through students until they reached him. "Zack," Yuki greeted, scanning him for concern. "What’s with the distant look?" Zack offered a slight, wry smile. “Just thinking about the camp. I can feel it in the air—something’s coming. I can’t quite place it.” Yuki raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ren. “Great, now you’ve got me worried.” Ren smirked. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just got that ‘mysterious vision guy’ thing going on again.” Kaia added, “Besides, it’s just a training camp. What’s the worst they can throw at us?” Zack hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t think it’ll be as simple as we’re hoping.” Before anyone could respond, a tall, stern instructor stepped forward, her voice cutting through the murmurs. “Everyone, listen up! We’re about to begin the Joint Training Camp. All students ranked E through C will be tested on their endurance, teamwork, and ability to adapt to difficult scenarios. This is not a simple drill. Expect to be pushed beyond your limits. If you can’t handle it, you’re free to quit—but don’t expect to return with your heads held high.” A hush fell over the crowd. “This will be an intense few days, but you will leave here stronger than you came. Your first task starts now. Head to the central training grounds. Be ready for anything.” With that, the instructor motioned for them to move. The massive group began to stir, thousands of shuffling feet filling the air. Zack gave Yuki one last, lingering look. “Stay sharp.” Yuki nodded, resolute. “Always.” The academy gates groaned open, and hundreds of students marched towards the forest trail beyond the school walls, flanked by instructors with sharp, appraising eyes. The forest to the northeast was dense, ancient, and alive with old lunar magic—a true proving ground. The path, initially wide, narrowed into a winding trail shaded by a thick canopy, where moonlight filtered softly, painting leaves silver. Yuki, sword secured, walked near the front of her group, every movement calculated. Ren walked beside her, seemingly casual but alert, while Kaia followed, watching both the surroundings and Yuki. Zack joined them, his brows furrowed. “It’s too quiet,” he muttered. Kaia glanced sideways. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “It is,” Zack replied, offering no further explanation. Deeper into the forest, the air grew heavy with a palpable pressure, as if the trees themselves were watching. They passed ancient stones etched with worn lunar symbols, and the trees grew thicker, gnarled and tall. In the distance, a wide clearing appeared—circular, flat, and surrounded by mossy stone pillars, with a large metal post bearing the academy’s crescent crest at its center. Instructors and aides were setting up tents, supplies, and parchment boards for assignments. Students spread out, some uneasy, others confident. "Guess this is it," Ren breathed. "Finally," Yuki cracked her knuckles. "Think they’re splitting us up?" Kaia wondered. Before an answer could be given, a loud whistle blew. A tall, broad-shouldered instructor with a booming voice stepped forward. “LISTEN UP!” he barked, instantly silencing the field. “Welcome to Phase One of the Joint Training Camp. Group assignments will be posted momentarily. You’ll be paired with students from other ranks. Some familiar. Some not. Get used to it.” He unfurled a scroll. “This forest will be your proving ground for the next several days. You will eat here. Sleep here. Train here. And if you're lucky… survive here.” That last word was said with a little too much amusement. Zack glanced at Yuki, his voice low. “I’ve got a bad feeling.” Yuki’s eyes narrowed toward the tree line, her hand instinctively brushing her sword’s hilt. “Good,” she smirked. “That means we’re exactly where we need to be.” A thick hush fell over the clearing as the instructors rolled out a massive parchment board on a glowing stone pedestal at the center of the field. Runes along the edges shimmered as ink appeared line by line, revealing the squad formations and trial schedules. Students crowded toward it, murmuring anxiously, pointing at names. Zack folded his arms. “Here we go…” Yuki strode forward without hesitation, her eyes scanning quickly until— “There,” Ren said, tapping a name with her finger. “Squad 17.” The squad was listed: Yuki Takahashi – Null; Kaia Roan – Waxing Crescent Bloomcaster; Ren Ishari – Bladeborn, Last Quarter Moon; Zack Orlin – Unaligned Seer; Lunai Vel – Full Moon Lunar Support; Darren Ryze – Waxing Gibbous Phaselancer. Kaia’s brow furrowed. “Lunai Vel? Isn’t she a support user from Year 2?” Ren nodded. “She’s good, but… serious. Like, painfully serious.” Zack tilted his head. “And Darren… I’ve seen him spar. He uses those dual crescent blades. Pretty flashy.” Yuki muttered under her breath. “Flashy doesn’t win trials.” The scroll glowed again as a second message appeared: “Report to your assigned zones. Trials begin at sunset. Phase One: Survival Assessment.” Kaia blinked. “Sunset? That gives us like… what, a few hours?” Ren sighed. “Enough time to figure out who we’re stuck with.” They grabbed their gear and followed the forest markers toward Zone Delta, a deeper part of the forest with elevated terrain and far less light. The walk was tense but quiet. When they reached the ridge overlooking their assigned territory, two figures were already waiting near the center camp flag. A tall girl with flowing silver hair, dressed in pale gray robes with moonlace armor around her forearms, turned as they approached. “Yuki Takahashi?” she asked coolly. “Zack. Ren. Kaia.” Lunai Vel. Her tone was formal, her stance perfect—no wasted movement. “And that,” she added, nodding toward the tree behind them, “is Darren Ryze.” A boy leaned against the trunk, arms crossed. He gave a two-finger salute with a crooked smile. “Was wondering when our heavy hitters would show.” Yuki didn’t respond, but her eyes scanned the terrain immediately—measuring space, tree cover, and sightlines. Kaia looked around. “So, what’s the goal here? Build a base camp and not die?” Lunai answered without hesitation. “Each squad will be hunted tonight. Assessment is based on cooperation, survival, and tactical cohesion. No one said we had to fight fair.” Zack blinked. “Wait—hunted?” Darren grinned. “Didn’t you hear the instructor? ‘If you’re lucky… you survive.’” Yuki tightened the strap on her sword, eyes fixed on the forest shadows. “Then we don’t rely on luck.” The forest around them pulsed with quiet life. Insects chirped, and somewhere far off, the echo of wind brushed through the dense canopy like a whisper too faint to catch. Yuki led the group up a narrow ridge, her eyes sharp, scanning the terrain. With her sword strapped across her back and her damp hair pulled into a loose tie, she moved like someone who’d done this before—even if she hadn’t. The bruises on her ribs protested every steep incline, but she said nothing. Behind her, Ren trailed closely, a pair of short blades strapped to her hips, already half-unsheathed. Kaia followed next, hands lightly glowing with Bloomcaster energy, ready but not active. Zack brought up the rear, quiet and thoughtful, his expression tight with focus and something deeper—dread, maybe. After nearly twenty minutes of silent climbing and careful observation, Yuki stopped near a half-circle of old stone ruins tangled with moss and vines. Large chunks of broken wall jutted from the earth, forming natural barriers, and tall trees formed a perimeter like silent sentinels. She turned to the others. “Here.” Ren surveyed the space. “Not bad. High ground, partial cover, limited approach angles. You thinking defensible over hidden?” Yuki nodded once. “If someone finds us, I’d rather control the fight than hide from it.” Kaia stepped toward one of the larger stones, brushing her fingers across the moss. “And if we get split up, this is a good landmark.” Zack crouched, touching the ground. “No signs of other teams. Not yet, anyway.” Yuki wasted no time. “We set a perimeter first. Traps if we can manage. Zack, can you sketch out a detection circle?” He nodded and pulled a chalk stick from his satchel, moving toward the trees to start scribing lunar symbols into the dirt—old patterns passed down to Seers for warding and sensing. Ren rolled out a compact tarp from her bag, anchoring it beneath a half-sheltered arch of stone. “We’ll sleep in shifts. If any of us hear movement, we alert immediately. No solo action. Agreed?” Yuki looked up. “Agreed.” Kaia pulled a few rune-threaded stones from her pouch, placing them at the edges of the clearing. “These will glow if something breaks the radius.” As the sun began to sink behind the treetops, painting the leaves in blood-orange light, Squad 17 stood around the center of their chosen ground—silent, alert, and already united by one unspoken truth: Tonight, the forest wasn’t safe. And they were being hunted. In the thick underbrush just beyond the perimeter of Squad 17’s camp, four shadows crouched low, hidden beneath the canopy of twisted branches and moon-kissed leaves. Their breathing was controlled, their eyes sharp, watching every movement in the clearing ahead. This was Squad 10, all C-class, a team hardened by prior training—mock hunts, solo trials, and simulated sieges—and fiercely competitive. From behind a thick tree trunk, their leader, Riven, adjusted the scope on his crescent-bolt launcher, the moonlight glinting across the polished silver barrel. His eyes locked on Yuki and Ren, who talked quietly at the clearing’s edge, while Kaia set her Bloomcaster runes and Zack traced his sigils into the dirt. “They’re spread too thin,” Riven muttered. “One strike from behind, and they’ll fall like dominoes.” “Should we really hit them now?” whispered Mila, their stealth scout. “It’s still training. The instructors said not to treat this like open war.” “It’s a survival assessment,” Riven snapped under his breath. “You think they’ll go easy on us if the roles were reversed? If we don’t make an impression now, we’ll get buried behind squads like them.” He pointed at Yuki. “That’s the one that took on a Full Moon Lunarch bare-handed. That’s the threat. We take her out early, the rest crumble.” Mila hesitated but nodded. Behind them, Jonas, their trapmaster, quietly unspooled a small line of glimmering wire between two roots. “Snare zone’s ready. If they chase, we’ll lead them straight into it.” “And what about the Seer?” asked Kell, the fourth member, his hand resting on the pommel of his short crescent axe. “He’ll sense us if we get too close.” Riven’s lips curled into a smirk. “That’s why we strike when the last ray of sun dips below the trees. Twilight’s our veil. We hit fast—hard—and vanish before they can regroup.” The wind rustled through the trees as shadows lengthened, and the final glimmer of sunlight slipped away beyond the horizon. Riven lowered his scope. “Positions.” Squad 10 melted into the forest like ghosts, silent and invisible. The ambush had begun. The final threads of twilight had faded, leaving only the pale silver of moonlight cutting through the dense trees. A soft, haunting breeze passed through the forest, causing leaves to rustle in distant rhythm like whispers between shadows. Yuki crouched near the edge of the camp, her back against a stone slab, her eyes never leaving the treeline. The faint blue glow of Kaia’s rune-stones still pulsed gently in the ground, casting a soft halo around the campsite. Behind her, the faint sound of quiet breathing could be heard from the tents. Ren had settled into first rest after taking off her boots. Kaia was still adjusting her bedroll, humming softly to herself. Zack’s tent was already zipped, though Yuki doubted he was sleeping. His mind always seemed somewhere else lately. Yuki didn’t mind taking first watch. In truth, she preferred it. There was a stillness in the night that reminded her of the calm before a storm—unnerving, but familiar. Her hand rested on her lap, thumb absently brushing the edge of her sheath. Then—a sound. Barely a shift. A leaf disturbed. A subtle change in the wind. Her eyes narrowed. Too soft to be animal. Too careful to be an an accident. She didn’t move. Didn’t draw attention. But her senses sharpened, her posture straightened ever so slightly. The forest was too quiet. And Yuki Takahashi never ignored her instincts. In the distance—perhaps no more than twenty feet away—Riven lay flat against a ridge, his launcher poised and ready. Through his sight, he could see her clearly now. Yuki’s expression unreadable. Her muscles calm but coiled. Ready. He hissed a whisper into his throat mic: “Eyes on her. Wait for the signal. Keep it quiet.” Mila, crouched in a nearby tree above the tent Kaia slept in, slowly began unslinging her moon-threaded bolas, set to pin movement without fatal damage. Jonas, from the rear, began creeping forward to disable one of the glowing detection stones. Yuki’s eyes shifted. Something was off. She didn’t call out. Didn’t shout a warning. That would alert them they’d been spotted. Instead, her right hand slipped behind her back—not to her blade, but to the dagger hidden just beneath her jacket sleeve. She waited… bated breath. And then— Snap. The glowstone’s pulse flickered. Went out. Her eyes flared. They’re already inside the perimeter. With a single movement, Yuki spun and hurled the dagger directly into the woods—not to hit, but to make noise. To signal. Behind her, Ren sat bolt upright in the tent. “...That wasn’t a bird.” Kaia was already grabbing her staff, hair glowing faintly with Bloomcaster energy. Zack unzipped the tent halfway. “They’re here, aren’t they?” Yuki didn’t answer. Her stance said enough. Squad 10 had moved in silence. But Squad 17 was awake. And the hunt had just turned both ways. The forest held its breath. A beat of silence passed, heavy and still—then came a low voice from the darkness. “Now.” That voice belonged to Riven, the squad leader of Squad 10. In an instant, four figures erupted from the treetops and underbrush, moonlight flashing off blades, gear, and boots as Squad 10 launched their ambush with deadly precision. But something was wrong. As they burst into the clearing with battle-cries and focused energy, they didn’t find sleepy, unprepared students. They found four shadows standing tall, weapons drawn, eyes locked, waiting for them. Squad 17 was ready. Yuki stood at the front, sword already unsheathed in one smooth motion. The moment her hand pulled the blade free from the scabbard across her lower back, a silver-black chain snapped loose from the hilt, coiling like a serpent up her forearm, wrapping halfway around her wrist and elbow like armor. Her eyes—sharp, narrow, unflinching—locked with Riven’s. Time seemed to slow. Riven snarled. “Too late to retreat now.” He lunged, drawing his curved lunar longsword with a flash of silver. The edge hummed with stored kinetic energy. Yuki didn’t wait. She stepped into him like a thunderclap, both blades meeting in a loud, violent CLANG—the impact rippled outward, sending dust spiraling into the air and scattering leaves from nearby trees. Shockwaves burst from the collision. Ren moved like a blur behind Yuki, intercepting Mila mid-leap with a blade parry that rang like a bell. Sparks flew. Zack spun and ducked a swipe from Jonas, immediately activating a defensive sigil underfoot that flared with silver light, forcing the boy to backpedal. Kaia let out a breath, lifting her hand. Vines laced with moonlight burst from the ground and coiled upward toward Kell, who slashed through them mid-roll—but Kaia was already moving again, circling wide to redirect him away from the tents. Meanwhile—Yuki and Riven were already on their second clash. Blades scraping, their feet sliding across dirt and stone. Her chain swung loosely with each strike, dancing with her movements—until she suddenly snapped her elbow mid-spin, sending the chain wrapping around Riven’s wrist. His eyes widened. Yuki pulled. Hard. Riven stumbled forward—and her knee slammed into his gut before flipping him over her shoulder, sword scraping across the mossy ground. She didn’t give him time to breathe. Her foot came down where his chest had been—but he rolled, bringing his blade up again, face twisted in frustration. "You were supposed to be surprised!" he hissed. Yuki exhaled coldly, her stance low. “You were supposed to be smarter.” The night ignited with fury, replacing the former quiet with the clang of steel, the thud of boots, and magic humming like static. Riven, having rolled to his feet, met Yuki's relentless assault, her chain snapping with each precise movement. He swung wide, attempting to overpower her, but Yuki ducked, deflecting his blade with a brutal clang of her chain-wrapped arm. She twisted, her sword arcing tight, and Riven barely leaped back, his coat sliced. "You’re better than they said," he gasped, breath short. "I’m just getting started," Yuki’s grip tightened. To the side, Ren and Mila were a blur of speed and steel. Mila's twin daggers flashed, but Ren parried every strike with her crescent blades in a chaotic dance. "Damn, you’re fast," Mila grinned. "And you talk too much," Ren countered, sweeping her foot to trip Mila, then closing the gap, her blades nicking Mila’s shoulder. Further out, Kaia, a calm force of nature, guided glowing vines and roots towards Kell with her crescent staff. He hacked at them with his axe, shouting, “Get those weeds away from me!” Kaia's eyes narrowed. "Maybe try not stepping in them." When Kell charged again, roots snapped up, grabbing his ankle. Kaia slammed her staff into the ground, unleashing a BOOM of lunar bloom magic that threw Kell off his feet. He recovered fast, throwing his axe, which grazed Kaia's side, tearing fabric. Near the tents, Zack faced Jonas, who threw lunar-charged caltrops that exploded on contact. Zack ducked behind a tree as shrapnel flew. “Come on, Seer,” Jonas taunted. “Where’s your foresight now?” Zack, without a word, pressed a sigil onto his palm and raised his hand. A blinding FLASH momentarily disoriented Jonas. Zack lunged, tackling him to the ground, kicking away his trap pouch. “No more surprises for you,” he muttered. The clearing became a battlefield. Eight raw, talented, stubborn students fought as if in war. Back at the center, Yuki and Riven continued their vicious exchange. He feinted low, but Yuki caught his blade, twisted his arm, and slammed her chained fist into his shoulder, sending him crashing into a stone slab with a loud crack. He coughed hard. “Still think this is just training?” Yuki’s chain slithered as she raised her sword. “I stopped thinking that the moment you turned it into an ambush.” Squad 10 had underestimated them, and Squad 17 had no intention of letting that go unanswered. Yuki’s sword pressed firmly against Riven’s throat, the silver-black chain wrapped tight around his wrist, locking him in place. His breath was ragged, eyes burning with fierce stubbornness and grudging respect. “You really think you’ve won?” he hissed, voice low but defiant. Yuki’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not yet.” From the edges of the clearing, the rest of the squads still clashed fiercely—Ren and Mila exchanged a flurry of blades; Kaia’s glowing vines wrapped around Kell’s legs as Zack squared off with Jonas in a battle of quick reflexes and lunar sigils. Riven suddenly twisted sharply, wrenching his wrist free of the chain with a grunt. He lashed out with his sword, forcing Yuki back a step. “Don’t get cocky,” he snarled. Yuki took a deep breath, tightening her grip on her sword hilt, the chain recoiling like a living thing. She surged forward, blade flashing in the moonlight, as the two circled each other again—each strike faster, sharper, heavier than the last. Nearby, the other squads’ fight intensified, the air thick with tension and energy. Yuki’s mind sharpened, her instincts pushing her to move faster, strike smarter. She feinted left, then swung her chain like a whip, wrapping it around Riven’s leg. He stumbled but recovered quickly, kicking the chain away and lunging for her throat. Yuki ducked under the strike, spun, and slammed her blade into his side. Riven grunted, backing off, eyes blazing. “You’re good,” he admitted, panting. “Better than I thought.” She narrowed her eyes, voice low and steady. “Good enough.” The fight raged on around them—a test of skill, endurance, and willpower. Neither squad willing to back down. Neither ready to lose. Amid the clang of steel and the flash of moonlight on blades, Yuki’s breath hitched. Her eyes flicked beyond the fighting, into the darker edges of the forest. A cold prickling ran down her spine — an instinct deeper than sight or sound. Something was… wrong. She tightened her grip on her sword and suddenly raised her voice, loud and clear over the battle. “Stop! Hold your attacks!” Ren and Kaia immediately pulled back, Zack lowering his fists but staying alert. Riven blinked, confused, lowering his blade just enough to listen. Yuki’s gaze scanned the shadowed treeline again. “This isn’t just our training. I’m sensing something else—something outside the trial. There’s a presence… watching us. Waiting.” Her voice was steady but urgent. Ren’s eyes narrowed. “Like a predator?” Yuki nodded slowly. “Yes. Not a student. Not an instructor. Something… different.” Kaia’s fingers glowed faintly with lunar energy. “Should we prepare for another fight?” Zack’s jaw clenched. “If something’s out there, it won’t wait.” Riven glanced around nervously, suddenly on edge despite himself. Yuki sheathed her sword and took a defensive stance. “We need to regroup. Watch each other’s backs.” The clearing fell silent, the tension thickening as eyes scanned the surrounding darkness—waiting for the unknown to reveal itself. The forest grew quieter as Yuki led the group cautiously through the thick underbrush, every step deliberate, every breath held just a little longer than usual. Ren, Kaia, Zack, and Squad 10 moved silently behind her, alert and ready. After several minutes, the trees abruptly opened into a wide clearing bathed in pale moonlight. Large jagged stones rose from the ground like ancient monuments, casting long shadows across the grass. Atop those stones, four cloaked figures stood motionless, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods. The air around them felt thick — heavy with an unseen weight. Yuki’s eyes narrowed. “This is it.” Suddenly, one of the cloaked figures stepped down gracefully from a stone and began walking toward Yuki. Yuki stepped forward to meet them, the others instinctively tensing behind her. But before she could reach the figure, a sharp snap echoed through the clearing. From the ground, thin, deadly strings erupted like black vines, twisting and curling with unnatural speed. In an instant, the strings snaked around Yuki’s ankles, latching tightly to the earth, immobilizing her feet. Yuki’s eyes flashed in shock. She tried to pull free, but the invisible bindings held firm. Ren gasped, stepping forward. “Yuki!” The cloaked figure raised a hand calmly and snapped their fingers again. The strings tightened, digging in like iron shackles. Yuki gritted her teeth, struggling against the deadly trap, her sword still in hand but useless as her feet refused to move. The approaching figure stopped a few feet away, their voice low and ominous. “You should have come alone.” Behind them, the other cloaked figures shifted silently, stepping down from their stones, encircling the trapped group. Yuki’s breath hitched as the deadly strings bit into her ankles, rooting her firmly to the spot. Her muscles tensed, but the more she struggled, the tighter the bindings seemed to grow. She glanced back at her friends—Ren, Kaia, Zack, and even Riven—who stood frozen, faces pale but ready to fight. Locking eyes with them, Yuki’s voice rang out, fierce and commanding: “Run!” she shouted, voice cutting through the thick tension. “Get to the teachers! Tell them we’ve been ambushed! I’ll hold them off as long as I can!” Ren’s jaw clenched, but Yuki shook her head sharply. “No arguments! This is bigger than us! Now! Go!” Kaia hesitated a moment, eyes wide, then nodded and darted forward, followed swiftly by Zack and Riven. Ren lingered for a heartbeat—her loyalty pulling her to stay—but Yuki’s fiery glare stopped her. “Go!” With a reluctant glance back, Ren broke into a run, disappearing into the shadowed trees. Yuki gritted her teeth, tightening her grip on her sword, ready to face the cloaked figures alone. The forest air hummed with silent threat as the seven cloaked shapes closed in. But Yuki’s defiant yell echoed, fearless and loud: “I’m not going down without a fight!” The figure stepped closer, the moonlight catching the edge of his hood as he slowly pulled it back, revealing a sharp, intense face marked by shadows and scars. His eyes burned with a fierce, unsettling fire. “Yuki Takahashi…” he said, his voice low but charged with raw emotion. “You’re a Null. Like us.” He leaned in closer, his breath cold against her ear. “We Nulls… we’ve been outcasts since the day we were born. Cast aside by the very society that claims to protect this world.” His words were venomous, soaked with years of bitterness. “We are the opposite of your so-called heroes… We are the villains in their stories. The ones they want to erase.” He straightened, his gaze piercing. “We have a name. A purpose. But before I tell you—my name is Ryuka. A Null like you, cast out, rejected, and now… I stand against everything this world holds dear.” He stepped back, eyes never leaving hers. “This world doesn’t deserve heroes who turn their backs on people like us. Join us. Become one of us. Together, we will make them feel the hatred we’ve carried—the rage of the rejected.” Yuki’s breath caught, the weight of his words settling deep inside her chest. Her voice trembled but was honest, raw. “I… I know what it feels like.” She looked down briefly, memories flooding back—whispers, disgusted glances, the cold distance of family and strangers alike. “They all looked at me like I was a monster… like I was less than human.” Her eyes lifted, burning with a mix of pain and defiance. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let that hate consume me.” Ryuka’s gaze sharpened, and he took another step toward her, his voice a harsh, cold coaxing whisper. “You say you won’t let it consume you, but it already has. I see it in your eyes, Yuki. The fire. The ache. The exhaustion of pretending you’re fine in a world that’s never wanted you.” He circled slowly around her, the tension coiling between them. “Where were your so-called allies when the world turned its back on you? Where were your teachers when you were ignored, overlooked, discarded like a glitch in their perfect system?” His voice grew darker, more intimate. “You fight so hard for people who never once fought for you. And for what? A place that will never truly accept you. They don’t want to fix the system… they just want to use you when it’s convenient.” Ryuka stopped in front of her again, eyes blazing. “But we? We see you. We understand you. And we want you—not for your power, but for your pain. For the truth inside you that they’re too afraid to face.” He extended his hand slowly, fingers open. “Join the League of Villains, Yuki. You’ll never be alone again. You’ll never be weak again. You’ll never be looked down on again.” The clearing held its breath as Yuki stared at his hand, at the promise, at the temptation. Then her voice, low but steady, broke through the stillness. “…You’re right about one thing.” Ryuka tilted his head, a flicker of satisfaction glinting in his eyes. “I have been cast out. Judged. Looked at like I didn’t belong.” Her eyes shimmered—not with weakness, but with clarity. “But that doesn’t mean I’m like you.” She stepped back from his hand. “I won’t burn the world down just because it hurt me. That would make me no better than the ones who threw me away.” Ryuka’s hand lowered, his expression darkening. “I don’t need your sympathy,” she said. “I need to prove I’m more than what they say I am. And I’ll do my way. Not yours.” Silence. Then Ryuka smiled… but it wasn’t kind. “So be it.” Ryuka turned away, the edges of his cloak sweeping over the grass like the passing shadow of a storm. “You’ve made your choice,” he said coldly, his voice barely above a whisper, “but remember—when their praise fades, and their eyes turn cold again… when you're left alone in the dark like before…” He paused mid-step, his voice dipping into something venomous. “Know that you had a place waiting. A place that understood you.” Yuki glared after him, jaw clenched. “Then let it wait forever.” That stopped him. A faint hum pulsed in the air—a tension, a shift in energy. Ryuka’s fingers twitched. And then—he turned. Fast. “But no matter what… you will join us.” In an instant, Ryuka was in front of her again, too fast to follow. Before Yuki could brace, he drove his fist hard into her stomach—his knuckles slamming just beneath her ribs with surgical precision. A sickening thud echoed across the clearing. Yuki’s eyes widened. The breath ripped from her lungs in one violent shock as her body convulsed against the invisible strings still holding her down. Her blade clattered to the ground beside her. She gasped—no air came. Pain bloomed deep in her core, radiating through her chest and spine. Ryuka leaned in, his voice like ice against her ear. “You don’t get to say no to the future.” He released her, and she dropped to her knees, wheezing. “But don’t worry,” Ryuka stepped back into the moonlight, his expression calm—too calm. “You’ll understand soon,” he said, his voice like silk over steel. “Pain makes everything clear.” Yuki’s hand trembled as it hovered over the hilt of her fallen blade. Her breath was shallow, her ribs aching, but her eyes—her eyes burned with pure fire. Then— “Shut… the… HELL… UP!” With a scream that split the stillness, she snatched her blade from the ground, the chains wrapped around her arm tightening with her rage. In a single motion, she lunged upward and slashed horizontally, a bright arc of silvery steel aimed straight for Ryuka’s throat. But he was already gone. He twisted sideways with impossible speed, her blade slicing through the empty air beside his cheek—just a breath away. “You still have fight in you,” he murmured, voice taunting now. “Good.” Yuki pivoted without pause, letting momentum carry her into a spinning backslash, her chain whirling through the air like a striking viper. This time, Ryuka ducked low, sweeping a leg out in retaliation. Yuki leapt over it and flipped back, landing on one knee with her blade poised defensively in front of her. She spit blood onto the ground and glared at him. “Come on then,” she growled. “Let’s see how a ‘rejected mistake’ fights when she’s pissed.” Ryuka smirked. “As you wish.” He darted in—and their clash truly began. Metal met fists. Sparks flew. Ryuka’s attacks were surgical, built on speed and precision, each strike aimed to disable, to break. But Yuki fought with something far more volatile: heart. She parried with raw instinct, ducked under jabs, countered with tight, explosive slashes. The chain wrapped around her arm snapped forward like a whip, forcing Ryuka to twist and backstep. Each time their blows met—blade to fist, chain to dodge—a thunderous shockwave rolled out, rustling trees and flattening grass. The clearing was lit with motion and fire. Yuki’s breaths grew more labored, pain tightening her sides—but she didn’t stop. Not this time. Ryuka’s foot slammed into the dirt, launching him forward like a bullet. His fist came flying, aimed squarely at Yuki’s jaw—but she ducked low, letting the blow whistle past her head. With a snap of her wrist, the chain around her arm unwound, shooting forward like a serpent and coiling toward his leg. He jumped—barely—twisting midair and throwing a spinning elbow downward. Yuki raised her blade, deflecting the strike with the flat of the steel. Sparks flared as metal and flesh clashed again, a shockwave bursting out, cracking the ground beneath their feet. “You’re slowing down.” Ryuka’s voice was a cold whisper, his tone unshaken. Yuki gritted her teeth. Blood ran down her lip, her ribs screaming from the earlier blow—but her eyes remained locked, wild and defiant. “Then keep up,” she snapped—and lunged. She slid low, ducking under Ryuka’s counter-kick, and drove the hilt of her blade into his ribs with a satisfying thud. He grunted, stumbling slightly—but caught himself just as her sword came slashing upward in an arc. He dodged backward, the tip grazing the edge of his cloak, slicing it clean through. For a moment, they both stood, breathing hard. The moonlight glinted off her blade and shimmered across his gauntlets. Then they rushed each other again. Blows became faster. Deadlier. Yuki used everything—her sword, the chain, her momentum. She spun like a cyclone, striking with precise, wrathful purpose. Ryuka blocked and weaved through it all, striking with pinpoint aggression. Every movement was designed to test her resolve. But still—Yuki held her ground. A palm strike to her chest. A slash across his shoulder. A knee to her side. A chain wrap around his wrist. Then—Yuki twisted, disarming him for just a moment, her blade pressing to his neck. His eyes widened, just slightly. “You don’t fight like a hero,” he muttered. “You fight like us.” Yuki’s arms trembled—but her grip didn’t waver. “I fight for myself,” she hissed. “Not for you. Not for them.” Ryuka smiled. Then, with a sudden burst of power, a blast of raw energy erupted from his chest—forcing Yuki back, sending her skidding across the grass and slamming into a tree trunk with a grunt. She coughed, dust rising around her as her blade clattered beside her hand. Ryuka stood still, breathing heavier now, a bruise forming at his jaw and a shallow cut across his collarbone. “You’re impressive,” he said at last, voice cool. “But you’re still only half-awake to what you could become.” He turned his back to her once more, cloak torn, blood on his gloves. “This fight’s over. But next time, when the world turns on you again—remember who offered you a place in the dark.” Then, in a blur of motion, he vanished into the trees. Yuki coughed, dragging herself upright, gripping her ribs. She hadn’t won. But she hadn’t lost either. And as the wind settled, and her heartbeat slowed, she realized something terrifying and powerful: She’d stood her ground against a monster born from the same pain she carried. But the question still echoed in her bones… How long could she hold onto herself? Yuki stood there—barely. Her breaths were ragged. Her knees wobbled. The pain that had been pushed deep beneath adrenaline now surged all at once—sharp, burning, inescapable. Her grip on her sword loosened. The chains clinked faintly as they unraveled from her arm, falling limp to the dirt. The clearing, once roaring with energy, was now eerily silent. And then—footsteps. “YUKI!” Ren’s voice pierced the silence. The trees parted behind her as Ren, Kaia, Zack, and two instructors burst into the clearing, weapons drawn, eyes scanning the scene. But there were no enemies. Just Yuki… standing alone in the center of the ruined battleground, blood running from her lip, her eyes glassy, unfocused. “Yuki—!” Kaia ran forward, catching her just as her legs gave out. Yuki collapsed into her arms, sword slipping fully from her fingers.