Hiro considered her question for a moment.
Becoming her student didn't seem like a bad idea—he had nowhere else to go, and Zenith was clearly strong. She could teach him how to fight, something he desperately wanted to learn.
"Oh, um, sure,It'd be great if you could teach me how to fight."
Zenith smiled.
"Of course! Teaching you how to fight would be the main lesson."
Hiro felt a spark of hope and determination ignite within him. He was glad Zenith would teach him—he needed to get stronger.
Not just for himself, but to face people like Drael.
Drael was powerful, far stronger than Hiro's father. If Hiro wanted any chance of defeating him, he would have to grow even stronger than both of them combined.
Speaking of his father, Hiro suddenly felt a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, as if he had forgotten something important.
He furrowed his brow, trying his hardest to recall what it could be. The answer hovered just out of reach until, finally, it struck him.
"My mask!"
Zenith let out a soft chuckle, her expression amused.
"It's okay. It's right there on the table next to you. I found it in the snow."
"It seemed important,"
Zenith continued
"Yes, it is, my father told me to find it and take it before I ran."
"I see,"
she said thoughtfully.
Hiro reached for the mask and picked it up once more. Its surface felt exactly as it had before—neither colder nor warmer, as though it existed outside the passage of time.
The mask was in the same pristine condition, untouched by the chaos he had fled.
Hiro stared at it grimly
"Anyways you will start training after you get better, i'm going to find us some food"
Zenith stepped out of the cabin, leaving Hiro to his own devices.
Hiro turned his attention back to the mask, studying it closely. The grooves etched into its surface were incredibly precise, as if crafted by a master artisan. Not a single mistake could be found—the mask was perfectly symmetrical, its design flawless.
After spending some time examining the front, Hiro flipped it over to inspect the backside.
The interior was smooth, almost unnervingly so, save for a series of grooves etched along one edge. They resembled writing, though Hiro couldn't be certain. The symbols were unfamiliar, their meaning just out of reach.
Hiro frowned, turning the mask over in his hands. He wondered why his father would keep such an artifact and insist that he take it before fleeing. The answers, however, seemed forever out of reach. Unless someone else had survived—a possibility Hiro knew was almost impossible—he would never know.
With a sigh, he lay back on the soft bed, holding the mask above him. Its intricate design caught the light, and he found himself wondering how it would look on his face.
He hesitated, the old saying flashing through his mind.
'Curiosity killed the cat,'
he thought grimly, but then another phrase surfaced, bringing a faint smirk to his lips.
'But satisfaction brought it back.'
And with that thought, Hiro placed the mask over his head.
In an instant, an unbearable pain surged through him, rattling his very soul. He screamed, his body writhing as if his head were being crushed under an immense, invisible pressure.
Moments passed, and through the agony, Hiro began to understand the source of the pain—he could feel everything around him. The sensation was overwhelming. He could sense the delicate touch of individual snowflakes falling outside, the subtle fluctuations in the air, the endless motion of the fire crackling in the chimney. Even the stillness around him was alive with detail—he could feel each piece of wood making up the cabin, their intricate grain etched in his mind.
It wasn't just feeling—it was seeing, hearing, experiencing everything in proximity all at once.
It was too much. His head throbbed, his vision blurred, and he teetered on the edge of consciousness. Just as the pain reached its peak and Hiro felt himself about to succumb, it suddenly vanished.
In the last moment before he lost consciousness, he realized why—the mask was gone.
Zenith stood over him, the mask in her hands. She had pulled it off, saving him for the second time.