The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the training grounds. The whispers in my mind had grown louder, their edges sharper, as though the presence from earlier had left a part of itself behind. Sleep was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt it stirring, testing the edges of my thoughts.
I stood at the edge of the grounds, staring into the mist that clung stubbornly to the earth. A chill seeped into my bones, but I barely felt it. My mind was elsewhere—caught in the echoes of Wren's voice and the haunting familiarity of the presence.
"Chen," a voice called softly behind me. I turned to see Kai, his silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by something more solemn. "Couldn't sleep?"
I shook my head. "You?"
He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Figured you'd be out here. You've been… different since the exercise."
"Different how?" I asked, wary.
Kai crossed his arms, leaning casually against the nearest post. "Quiet. Tense. Like you're carrying something too heavy for one person to handle."
I looked away, my gaze drifting back to the mist. "What if I am?"
"Then let someone help." He pushed off the post and stepped closer, his tone softening. "You don't have to do this alone, you know."
For a moment, I almost told him. About the whispers, the dark presence, and the gnawing feeling that it wasn't just some external force—that it was me. But the words caught in my throat. What if I was right? What if he looked at me like Wren had earlier, with that mix of suspicion and unease?
"I'm fine," I said finally, though the lie tasted bitter.
Kai studied me, his sharp eyes searching for something beneath my words. But he didn't press. Instead, he sighed and looked out into the mist with me.
"Do you ever wonder why Wren's so hard on us?" he asked after a long silence.
"Because he wants us to survive," I replied, surprised by my own certainty.
"Maybe." Kai's tone was thoughtful. "Or maybe it's because he knows what it's like to fail."
I glanced at him, startled. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged, but there was a weight to the motion. "You've heard the stories, right? About his squad? About what happened during the Collapse?"
I shook my head, frowning. "Not really. People don't talk about it much."
"Exactly," Kai said, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Because no one likes to admit that Wren—our untouchable, unbreakable instructor—lost. He was leading a team when the Collapse happened, and most of them didn't make it out. Some say that's why he's like this. Why he's so obsessed with pushing us past our limits."
I let his words sink in, the pieces clicking together in a way that made far too much sense. Wren's urgency, his relentless drills, his grim warnings—they weren't just about training. They were about redemption.
Before I could respond, a rustling sound drew our attention. From the shadows of the training grounds, a figure emerged. It was Wren.
"Out here late, aren't we?" he said, his voice low but carrying easily across the space.
Kai stiffened beside me, but I stepped forward. "I couldn't sleep."
Wren's gaze lingered on me, sharp and unyielding. "Understandable. Today's exercise wasn't easy. But rest is as vital as training, Chen."
"Is it?" The question escaped before I could stop it. "Because I'm not sure I can rest with… whatever that thing was still in my head."
Wren's expression didn't change, but his silence spoke volumes. Kai glanced between us, his unease palpable.
"That's enough for tonight," Wren said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Return to the dorms, both of you."
Kai opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. With a final glance at me, he turned and walked back toward the building. I hesitated, watching Wren closely.
"It's not just in my head, is it?" I asked quietly. "The presence—it's still here."
For the first time, something flickered across Wren's face. Not concern, but recognition.
"Go to bed, Chen," he said, his voice softer but no less firm. "We'll discuss this tomorrow."
I wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the weight of his gaze silenced me. With a reluctant nod, I turned and followed Kai back to the dorms.
That night, sleep came in fragments, each dream more vivid and unsettling than the last. I saw flashes of the presence, its dark tendrils reaching for me, pulling me into a swirling void. And at the center of it all, I saw myself—not as I was, but as something else. Something monstrous.
I woke with a start, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The whispers were gone, but their absence felt like a warning. Whatever had happened during the exercise, it wasn't over. Not yet.
When dawn broke, I was already dressed and waiting. Today, I would find answers—no matter what it took.