The wind was rustling.
Faint. Uneven. As though the forest were itself still staggering.
There was smoke in the splintered clearing. Blood, shattered stones, ripped roots were indicators of the battle. Some of it was dried, some was still wet. The ancient runes carved into the ruins, blazed faintly and faded to silence.
A body lay slumped against a jagged wall, half-buried in the rubble.
Instructor Verrick. Unmoving. Armor cracked. Chest pierced. His blade, shattered beside him.
Just minutes ago, he had been an apex predator.
Now, nothing more than a scorched echo.
.........
A sharp breath cut through the quiet.
Nclai's fingers twitched.
He stirred.
His coat was torn, stained dark with blood. His limbs shook as he pushed himself up slowly, almost mechanically. His vision flickered, black, then color, before settling into a weak blur.
His throat burned.
His skin ached.
But he was alive.
What... happened?
His head pounded. Everything after Verrick's final transformation was hazy, like a fog had slipped over his mind. He remembered the pain. The voice. A crimson flash...
Then nothing.
.........
System Override Successful.
Objective: Neutralize Immediate Threat.
Status: Target Eliminated.
System control returning to host...
.........
Those words remained in his sight a second or more before they faded.
Nclai gazed expressionlessly.
A sinking restlessness twisted his chest.
Override?
He had experienced it, as though a door had been opened in his head and another thing had walked in. Something ancient. Cold. Unstoppable.
Not borrowed strength.
Possession.
He clenched his fists, steadying his breath.
Was that... really me?
No one answered.
.........
In the distance, the hum of mana crystals buzzed faintly. A faint blue wisp trailed upward, a beacon. Someone had used an emergency teleport crystal nearby. Maybe a student who had seen the clash. Maybe a scout reporting what happened.
He didn't care.
Nclai looked at Verrick's remains.
There was no satisfaction in the victory. No sense of triumph. Just a hollow quiet, and the steady drip of blood down his fingers.
This wasn't just a test anymore.
It never was.
.........
Rustle.
A sound in the brush.
Nclai turned, slow, cautious.
Not another assassin. Just a single raven, perched on a twisted branch above. Its black feathers shimmered with specks of violet as it watched him with a tilted head.
"...Go tell them," Nclai muttered under his breath. "I'm still breathing."
The raven cawed once, caw, and flew off.
.........
He didn't wait for the next enemy to arrive.
Step by step, he left the ruins. The fog swallowed him once more.
His shadow dragged behind him, long and jagged across the dirt.
.........