The world went silent. The roar of the crowd, the sting of his own injuries, the weight of Cassian's revelation — it had all vanished. He could take the blame. He could take the insults. He could even accept the hatred born from a tragedy he hadn't caused.
But he would not take that.
He saw red. The edges of his vision blurred, and the sounds of the arena compressed into a single, high-pitched whine. The face of Cassian was still twisted in a sneer but then it seemed to swim before him, a target.
Before Kaitri even registered the anger as his own, the familiar, cold voice whispered in his mind. It wasn't even a suggestion. It was a statement he couldn't control.
[Anger Levels Over Threshold]
[Unlocking Berserk Mode]
'Berserk mode?'
No one saw it coming. Not the crowd, not Professor Obi, and certainly not Cassian.
The sand at Kaitri's feet didn't just move… It exploded.
He wasn't just fast. He was an erasure.
A blur of pure, unadulterated speed that defied his Terran limits. The memory of Archedes' impossible power, the one he had only ever ridden as a passenger, flooded his limbs. This time, however, he was in the driver's seat.
Cassian, still reeling from the kick, his mind clouded by his own venomous outburst, barely had time to widen his eyes. His hand which was trained by years of repetition, instinctively shot toward the hilt of his katana. It was a motion of pure reflex, the desperate act of a warrior who knew he was already dead.
He was too slow.
Kaitri's hand-to-hand training had held him back from unleashing his pure talent with the blade. Multiplied by him losing his mind, the pattern training from Obi that allowed him to know what Cassian was about to do with a slight movement, the graceful stride from Aris. The raw, borrowed power from the System — it all converged.
He didn't just lunge. He flowed with his body using an inhuman torque to lift off his back foot. He was already past Cassian's desperate grab before the other boy's fingers had even cleared his uniform.
The crowd fell silent, their cheers and boos frozen in their throats. A collective, strangled gasp was the only sound in the massive arena.
Kaitri was on him, appearing at his back in the same instant he'd left the front. The point of his tanto blade was aimed not for skin, not for a "win," but for the soft, vulnerable hollow of Cassian's throat.
The blade never landed.
Two fingers, slender and calm, appeared in the space between steel and skin. They caught the tanto's tip, stopping it dead. The sound of the impact was a dull, final thud.
The momentum, however, had to go somewhere. A shockwave of displaced air, visible as a ripple of heat, blasted outward from the point of contact, sending sand flying and forcing the students in the front row to shield their faces. The metal of the tanto blade groaned, vibrating so intensely it hummed a single, high-pitched note against Professor Obi's grip.
She stood between them, her expression unreadable.
"You could have won earlier with that speed, Kaitri," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "I don't know what he said to you but pull yourself together before your punishment gets worse."
Kaitri dropped his blades, his chest heaving. He stared at her, his vision still tinged with red, his body thrumming with the alien power he didn't understand and hadn't asked for. He felt… powerful.
He felt good.
He felt alive. He hadn't snapped out of it yet.
Obi scowled, her eyes narrowing as she saw the predatory light in his. "I don't like that look."
The next second, a wave of indigo Soul Energy pressed down on him. It wasn't the gentle tap from the classroom. It was the crushing, absolute weight of a mountain.
Kaitri's knees buckled. The "Berserk Mode" vanished like a snuffed flame, the borrowed strength draining from his limbs, leaving him weak, trembling, and horribly sober.
He fell to his hands and knees trying to breath, gasping as his senses returned. The rage was gone and was replaced by a cold, sickening shock. He looked at his own trembling hands, horrified.
He had lost control. He had almost killed him.
In front of the entire academy.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words choked. "I didn't mean to…"
Obi's expression didn't soften. "To the dojo. Now. You will drill until I say you can stop."
Kaitri staggered to his feet, shame burning hotter than his exhaustion. He retrieved his tantos, the metal feeling impossibly heavy, and left the arena without looking back.
Cassian just stared at his retreating form with one hand pressed to his still-bleeding nose, his face a mask of shock, confusion, and a new, unsettling fear at the speed he had just witnessed.
The walk back to his room felt like the longest he'd ever taken. Obi's "punishment" had been brutal. Six hours of non-stop, mind-numbing combat drills.
No water, no breaks, just the relentless slap of her practice sword against his body every time his form wavered. She had pushed him until his muscles had turned to water and his mind was numb.
He didn't know what this system, this voice, was. But he hoped it stopped. It had given him the win, but it had also stolen his control. 'If only I could talk to it… ask it what it wants.'
He had tries but silence was all he got.
The duel, however, had changed things. The whispers that followed him for the rest of the month were no longer just curious.
He had gone from "the tragic celebrity" to "the Annex brat who snapped." He was the quiet kid who might just be a psycho. He didn't mind.
It gave him more time to train.
He buried himself in the academy. He attended Vale's survival classes, memorizing every edible and poisonous plant. He spent his nights in the library, absorbing bestiaries. And he spent his days in the dojo. The duel had shown him a gap — not just in power, but in control.
He also watched the others. He saw Aris Veylan in the advanced combat spars. She was a different animal entirely. Where Cassian was all aggressive power, Aris was fluid and precise.
Kaitri watched her one afternoon as she, in a five-on-one drill, dismantled five other students in under a minute. She moved like a dancer, her tanto blades a blur, using her opponents' momentum against them, never taking a hit, or wasting a single step.
'She's fast,' he thought, rubbing his own sore shoulder. 'But I'm sure I can be faster. Although she has control and I have... that.' He didn't know if they'd ever face each other.
He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.
Finally, after weeks of tense quiet, it was time for the evaluation. The expedition into the dreaded Darkwood.
It was a harrowing, but great opportunity. The Darkwood was a Red-World-tainted zone bordering the academy, a place where the veil between worlds was thin.
Not all second years were Resonants, but every student, either first or second year — who survived the expedition was guaranteed the right to undergo the Soul Resonance ritual. It was the fastest path to power.
It was also the fastest path to the infirmary… or the morgue.
The exam, surprisingly, was a written test in the Great Hall. No combat, no survival drills. Just paper.
The entire first-year body was present, the tension so thick it felt like a physical weight.
Kaitri sat down and stared at the words on the holographic paper.
Question 1: Where on the body of a Cinderwing Condor is its Momento Sinew located, and how can it be safely extracted without igniting its Cinder-spray?Question 2: List three common flora from the Darkwood's outer ring and their practical applications.Question 3: A Striker-rank Gloam Hunter is stalking your position. What are the three immediate signs, and what is the primary evasion protocol?
He glanced over at Varik, who was already chewing his pencil, his leg bouncing so hard it was shaking the table, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated panic.
Kaitri almost smiled. He'd spent the last month doing nothing but drilling with Obi and reading every bestiary and survival guide in the library. He picked up his stylus.
He sighed and got to work.
"I was the thirtieth student!" Varik was practically vibrating as they stood outside the hall, his name glowing at the very bottom of the accepted list. "Thirtieth! Can you believe it? I barely made it! That rune theory section was brutal. Who even knows the decay rate of a sealed glyph? And that question on the Gloam Hunter? I just guessed 'run away fast'!"
Jenny, who had placed third, smirked and pushed her goggles up onto her forehead. "Please. Your 'theory' is just gossip with footnotes. The fact you passed at all is a statistical anomaly. You are an intellectual troglodyte, Varik."
Varik stared at her, his face a perfect picture of confusion. "Don't… don't mock me with words I don't understand! Troglo-what?"
Kaitri laughed, a real, genuine laugh that startled even himself. It felt good. "She called you a caveman, Varik."
"Oh." Varik paused, processing. "Hey! That's not nice! My intellectual pursuits are varied and eclectic!"
"Sure… they are," Jenny said, rolling her eyes.
She gave Kaitri a nod. She placed third while he'd placed seventh which was a respectable, unremarkable spot that suited him fine and walked away, a satisfied spring in her step. As Kaitri found himself explaining the etymology of "troglodyte" to a very confused Varik, he realized he didn't feel so alone.
The day of the expedition arrived. His Aunt and Lira had called the night before, a mandatory pre-mission check-in.
His Aunt's voice was tight with worry, a string of repeated warnings and tactical tips he'd already heard from Obi.
"...and remember, Kai, your father always said the sinew is useless if you compromise the heart. Go for the nape, always the nape if you are unfamiliar with it. It's the cleanest extraction. And don't you dare try to absorb a shard from anything above a Sentinel-class, do you hear me? Your body isn't ready for that kind of SEU surge. It could fracture your soul. Oh right, you're not a Resonant yet."
"I hear you, Aunt Shelly. I'll be fine."
"See that you are."
Lira had grabbed the comm, her face beaming. "Try not to get eaten, Kai. Momento sinew is probably expensive to replace. And if you see a Wyrd steed, catch one for me! I want the kind with the horns that glow!"
He smiled and disconnected the feed.
He packed his gear — a standard-issue survival pack, his tantos, and a new set of black, non-reflective combat fatigues. 'No suit anymore.'
He left for the main assembly hall, the same one from his first day. He hadn't seen Cassian since the duel. He didn't want to.
He walked in and, of course, there he was.
Cassian sat near the front, his face healed but his expression guarded. His nose was slightly, almost imperceptibly, crooked. He refused to meet Kaitri's gaze.
Aris and her brother, Zeren, were nearby. Zeren already looking bored and tapping his foot.
Varik and Jenny were saving him a seat.
Stefan, the other Annex kid, was there too, along with the Aerie who'd threatened him. The thirty chosen students sat in a tense, quiet block, the air thick with anticipation and the smell of new gear and nervous sweat.
"Yo Kai, where have you been?" Varik called out, running over, and clapping him on the back with his voice, a loud whisper. "It's starting! Vale's about to give the brief. Ready for our next step?"
Kaitri looked at the faces around him. His rivals, friends, creeps, and con artists. He looked at the open gate beyond the dais, where the armoured transports waited to take them to the edge of the Darkwood. He felt the cold weight of his tantos at his back and the faint, unsettling hum of the voice in his soul.
He smiled. "It's finally time."