The air on the training grounds was thick with tension, and every movement felt like it echoed through the space, vibrating with a force I couldn't quite grasp. The whispers that had plagued me in the dead of night were quieter now, but their absence left an eerie emptiness, as though they were biding their time, waiting for a moment of weakness.
Kai stood a few paces away, his back straight and posture tense, though he tried to hide it behind the usual carefree smile that never quite reached his eyes. Wren had given us little more than a few words of instruction before he stepped back, allowing us to begin the drill. It was a routine exercise—one of many we had done in the past—but it felt different today. I wasn't sure if it was the lingering weight of last night's conversation or the ever-present sense of the thing inside me, pressing against my thoughts, but I couldn't focus.
"Ready?" Kai's voice broke through the haze of my mind. His eyes were narrow, studying me carefully.
I nodded sharply, trying to shake off the thoughts that had begun to circle again. The presence was there, I could feel it lurking beneath my skin, feeding off my anxiety. I couldn't let it win. Not yet.
The drill began with a series of basic movements: strikes, blocks, dodges—nothing we hadn't done before. But today, it felt like the world was moving in slow motion, each step weighed down by the growing sense of urgency inside me. I could almost feel the presence drawing closer with every motion, tightening its grip. Every time my focus wavered, it was there, testing the edges of my mind, pushing me to slip, to lose control.
Kai's movements were sharp, fluid, and despite my mounting sense of dread, I couldn't help but admire how he handled himself. There was a calm confidence in the way he moved, a certainty that I envied. But then again, he wasn't haunted by something he couldn't understand.
I raised my arm to block a strike from Kai, but the moment my hand made contact, the presence stirred within me, sending a shockwave of pain through my chest. I staggered back, gasping, as if something had clawed its way out of the dark corners of my mind and into the present. My breath came in sharp, ragged bursts.
"Chen?" Kai's voice was filled with alarm, but it felt distant, muffled by the sudden roar in my head.
I fought to stay grounded, shaking my head to clear the fog in my brain. "I'm fine," I managed to say, though the words tasted like ash. "Just... a moment."
But the moment stretched on, and I could feel the presence inside me, pressing harder, as if it were testing my will, poking at the cracks in my resolve. It was trying to break through.
Kai took a step toward me, his brow furrowed. "What's going on? You don't look so good."
I raised my hand, gesturing for him to stop. "I said I'm fine." But the words didn't have the strength they once did. Inside, I was faltering.
I turned away from him, hoping that the distance would help, though I knew it wouldn't. The presence was everywhere, suffocating me. I was a prisoner in my own skin.
The world seemed to distort around me, and for a moment, I thought I heard the whispers again, low and insistent. They weren't coming from outside—they were coming from within. I staggered, trying to force myself to focus, but the ground beneath me seemed to shift, the mist from the early morning thickening, swirling around my legs like a living thing.
"Chen!" Wren's voice cut through the fog, sharp and commanding. I turned to find him approaching, his eyes locked on me with a mixture of concern and something darker—something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
The presence recoiled at his approach, as if it recognized him, as if it feared him.
"Step back, Kai," Wren ordered, his voice firm. Without waiting for a response, he moved closer to me, his presence somehow pushing back against the oppressive pressure inside my mind. The whispers faltered, but they didn't disappear.
I couldn't make sense of what was happening. Wren wasn't doing anything—he wasn't even touching me—but it felt like his mere presence was enough to hold the darkness at bay, at least for now.
"Focus, Chen," Wren said, his voice low but full of authority. "You have to maintain control. This is only the beginning. The presence won't stop until it breaks you. You can't let it."
I took a shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart. His words were like a lifeline, but they felt distant, like I was grasping at them through a veil of fog.
"I… I don't know how," I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. "I can't get rid of it."
Wren's gaze softened for just a moment, but only for a moment. "You don't get rid of it, Chen. You survive it. You learn to control it. Or it will consume you."
The weight of his words hit me like a physical blow, and I felt my knees weaken. The presence stirred again, this time with a newfound intensity, and I stumbled backward.
"Enough!" Wren barked, and something in his tone—something fierce and commanding—forced the presence to retreat, even if just for a moment. He stepped forward, closing the distance between us in a few strides, his voice quieter now but still firm. "Listen to me. The power that's inside you, the power you're feeling, is not something to be feared. It's a weapon. But only if you learn to wield it."
I swallowed hard, trying to grasp what he was saying. "A weapon?" The word felt wrong on my tongue. "I don't want to use it."
Wren met my gaze, his eyes unwavering. "You don't have a choice. You will learn, or you will lose yourself. And when that happens, I will be the one to stop you."
The finality in his voice left no room for doubt. He wasn't just warning me. He was preparing me for something worse—something far worse than I had imagined.
I nodded, though I wasn't sure if I believed it. The presence wasn't just inside me anymore. It was becoming part of me. And I didn't know if I was strong enough to hold it at bay.
Wren turned away, signaling for us to resume. "We're not finished yet. You'll train harder now, Chen. Harder than you've ever trained before."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. There was nothing left to say.
As we moved into the next phase of the exercise, I could feel it again—closer now, just beneath the surface. The darkness inside me was awake, and I was beginning to understand something terrifying: it wasn't just trying to control me. It was trying to become me.