The days blurred together in the wake of Chen's breakthrough. The presence, while still ever-present, had shifted. It no longer loomed like a silent storm on the horizon; instead, it pulsed within him, a constant companion. He had accepted its existence, learned to move with it, though it was still as unpredictable as it was powerful. But now, it didn't haunt him—it guided him.
The others noticed the change. Kai no longer pressed him with the same intensity, his strikes less eager, his stance more cautious. Even Wren, who had always been the epitome of control, seemed to hold back just slightly, as if giving Chen room to grow. The sparring sessions were less about defeat now and more about exploring this new state, this dangerous balance of strength and restraint.
But none of it felt enough.
There was always the quiet fear at the back of his mind—the fear that he wasn't truly in control, that at any moment the presence could rise up and break free, consuming him. The dreams hadn't stopped, either. They had become more vivid, more insistent, and always the presence loomed larger within them, whispering promises of power, promises of freedom. But it wasn't the kind of freedom Chen wanted.
One night, after a particularly grueling training session, he found himself standing alone on the edge of the training ground, gazing at the vast expanse of barren land beneath the pale moonlight. The world was quiet, but inside him, the presence thrummed with restless energy. It always felt close now, as though it were tethered to his every movement.
The sound of footsteps behind him broke the stillness. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.
"You're out here again," Wren said, his voice low, steady.
Chen glanced over his shoulder but didn't speak. The weight of Wren's words, his quiet observation, was enough.
"You're not ready," Wren continued, stepping closer. "Not fully. But you've come far enough that I can't just leave you here. You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to understand what you're dealing with. That presence inside you—what it really is."
Chen clenched his fists, but said nothing. The air between them felt thick, charged with unspoken words.
Wren stepped beside him, and they both looked out over the vast emptiness that stretched into the distance. "The key to all of this," Wren said, "is understanding the nature of the force inside you. It's not just chaos—it's a part of you. But it wasn't born inside you. It was given to you. Forced upon you. And until you understand why that happened, you won't be able to control it, no matter how much strength you find."
Chen's brow furrowed. "You've said before that I have to accept it, but you never told me why I have to carry it. Why it's inside me in the first place."
Wren hesitated, then let out a slow breath. "There are things even I don't fully understand. But there are others like you—those who carry the power inside, those who are chosen for a purpose they don't fully grasp. The presence you feel, the force that resides within you, is part of something much larger. There are powers that use people like you, shaping them into weapons, bending them to their will. But not everyone is the same. Some of you are born with the power. Some are chosen to bear it."
Chen turned to face Wren, confusion clouding his thoughts. "Chosen? For what?"
Wren's eyes flickered with something—something close to regret, but buried beneath layers of experience. "You'll understand in time. The battle isn't just with yourself, Chen. It's with what lies beyond you. The ones who gave you this power have their own reasons. And their reasons don't always align with your survival. If you don't learn to control it, if you don't learn to harness it fully, they will come for you. And when they do... I won't be able to help you."
The weight of Wren's words hit Chen like a blow to the chest. The presence inside him stirred, as though it, too, had been listening.
"I didn't ask for this," Chen said, his voice hoarse, betraying the frustration and fear he still held. "I don't want to be part of whatever this is. I just want to be me again."
Wren's gaze softened for a moment, the hard edge of his usual demeanor cracking just enough for Chen to see the trace of something deeper—something older, something scarred.
"None of us ask for this," Wren said quietly. "But that doesn't change what's been done to you. You're a part of something much larger now, whether you like it or not. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be able to survive it."
Chen looked down at the dirt beneath his feet, his hands trembling slightly as the presence swirled inside him, its whispers growing louder, more insistent. He didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to need this dark force inside him.
But maybe, just maybe, Wren was right. Maybe the only way forward was to stop fighting it.
The silence between them stretched, and in that silence, Chen made a decision. It wasn't one of acceptance, not fully—not yet. But it was a step. He would find out the truth. He would learn why he had been chosen for this fate.
And he would not let it break him.
"Show me what I need to do," Chen said, his voice low but firm.
Wren's gaze met his, and for the first time, there was something like respect in his eyes. "You're finally ready."
And with that, Wren turned and began walking back toward the training grounds.
Chen followed, each step feeling heavier than the last, but also with a sense of purpose he hadn't known in days.
He was ready, yes. But the path ahead was far from clear.