Silence didn't last. It never did.
The building creaked softly as the wind brushed past its broken windows. Dust shifted across the floor, disturbed by nothing visible.
Aren stood near the entrance, completely still, listening.
"…something's wrong," he said quietly.
Iris, who had been leaning against the wall, opened her eyes.
"…you feel it too?"
Aren didn't answer. Because it wasn't just a feeling anymore.
The mark pulsed. Once. Then again—sharper.
"Threat approaching."
"…they're here," Aren muttered.
Iris pushed herself off the wall instantly, her posture changing in a heartbeat.
"…that was fast."
Aren's gaze moved toward the broken window. The air outside felt heavier.
"…not the same ones," he said.
A pause.
"…worse."
A sharp sound cut through the silence.
Crack.
The wall behind them split open.
Not shattered. Cut. Clean. Precise.
A figure stepped through.
White coat. Untouched. Calm.
"…found you."
His voice carried no urgency. No emotion.
Iris's expression tightened instantly.
"…him…"
Aren noticed.
"…you know him."
"…don't engage directly," she said.
That was enough.
The man's eyes shifted between them, then settled on Aren.
"…so you're the anomaly."
Aren didn't respond.
The man tilted his head slightly.
"…interesting."
He vanished.
Aren's instincts reacted instantly—he turned—
Too late.
Impact slammed into him, sending his body crashing through the wall behind. Concrete broke. Dust exploded outward.
Pain surged through him.
Real. Sharp.
"…Aren!" Iris called—but she didn't move toward him.
Because the man was already in front of her.
"…wrong move," he said.
She attacked immediately. Fast. Precise.
It missed.
He was already behind her.
"…predictable."
A single strike forced her back, her feet sliding across the floor.
Aren stood up slowly outside, dust falling from his shoulders.
"…he's different," he muttered.
The mark pulsed violently.
"High-level threat detected."
Inside, Iris moved again, faster this time. But the man didn't just dodge—he controlled the flow, redirecting everything.
Like she was being studied.
"…your technique improved," he said. "…but still inefficient."
He stepped in.
Struck.
Iris crashed into the wall.
Silence followed.
Aren walked back inside, slow and steady.
The man glanced at him.
"…you're still standing."
Aren's eyes locked onto him.
"…you talk too much."
A pause.
Then the man smiled.
"…good."
The air tightened. Focused. Refined.
"…show me," he said. "…what makes you worth hunting."
The mark burned.
Aren felt it. That pull. That hunger.
Stronger than before.
"Consume."
His fingers curled slightly.
Not yet.
But something had to change.
Aren stepped forward.
The man moved instantly.
They clashed.
Faster. Sharper.
Aren attacked—blocked. Countered—stopped.
Every movement read. Every attempt controlled.
Then—
A strike landed.
Clean.
Aren staggered back slightly.
"…you rely too much on instinct," the man said. "…no structure."
Aren wiped the blood from his lip.
"…then I'll break yours."
The mark pulsed again.
Stronger.
Darkness flickered around his hand.
The man's eyes narrowed.
"…there it is."
Aren moved again.
Faster.
Less human.
He slipped past a strike, closed the distance—
His hand reached forward—
Darkness forming—
For a split second—
Contact.
The man's arm trembled.
Just slightly.
He stepped back immediately.
For the first time—
His expression changed.
"…so it's absorption-based," he murmured.
Aren stood still.
Breathing steady.
Control slipping.
The darkness lingered.
Hungry.
Iris pushed herself up, eyes locking onto him.
"…stop," she said sharply.
Aren didn't respond.
Because he wasn't fully there.
The voice returned.
"More."
The man stepped forward again, this time serious.
"…you're not ready," he said.
A pause.
"…but you will be."
He vanished.
Just like that.
Silence returned.
The pressure disappeared.
Only destruction remained.
Aren stood there, unmoving.
The darkness faded slowly.
Control barely held.
"…he left…" Iris muttered.
Aren didn't respond.
Because something about that felt worse than losing.
"…he was testing you," she said quietly.
Aren looked at his hand.
The mark pulsed once.
Soft.
Deeper.
"…I know."
The room fell silent again.
Not safe.
Not calm.
Just waiting.