"Again."
Juno's voice cracked like a whip across the training ground.
Ethan gritted his teeth, barely managing to parry the incoming strike. The force behind the blow sent tremors up his arm. He stumbled back, boots skidding through the dirt of the underground facility's arena.
Sweat soaked through his tunic. His breathing was ragged. His fingers were numb from gripping the practice sword, which now felt more like a weight than a weapon.
"I said again," Juno repeated, eyes sharp like a hawk's. She wasn't yelling. She never yelled. Her calm voice was more terrifying than a battlefield roar.
Ethan lunged.
This time he went low, trying to sweep her legs.
A mistake.
Juno pivoted effortlessly, slamming the flat of her blade into his side. He hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of his lungs.
She crouched beside him, calm and unreadable. "You don't move like a swordsman. You move like someone surviving a street fight."
"I was surviving," Ethan gasped, still catching his breath.
"Not good enough," she said, standing. "Out there, hesitation kills. Sloppiness kills. Even emotion… kills."
Ethan wiped blood from his lip and forced himself up. "Then teach me how not to die."
For the first time since they started, Juno's expression softened.
"Good. Again."
---
Three days passed.
Juno's training was brutal. There were no breaks, no encouraging words. Just pain, sweat, and relentless repetition.
Strike. Block. Roll. Counter.
She drilled him on more than just swordplay. She tested his awareness—blindfolding him and attacking without warning. She flung illusions at him, warped shadows that mimicked Rift beasts, forcing him to fight with instinct, not fear.
At night, she made him meditate with his hand over the Beastmark.
"Focus," she said. "Tell me what it feels like."
Ethan sat cross-legged on the cold floor, the mark glowing faintly beneath his palm. It pulsed, like a second heartbeat.
"Hot," he whispered. "Like there's something alive inside it. Something watching me."
Juno's eyes didn't waver. "That's because there is."
He looked up at her, startled. "You know what this thing is?"
"I know enough," she replied. "That mark isn't a gift. It's a curse… and a contract."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "What kind of contract?"
"One that hasn't revealed its terms yet."
---
On the fifth day, Ethan was finally able to hold his ground. He no longer just reacted—he read her movements, predicted her feints. He still lost, but Juno no longer knocked him to the ground with ease.
That night, she took him to a sealed room deep within the Guild's vaults.
"This is where hunters are tested before promotion," she said. "But you're not here for a test."
Inside, a Rift crystal floated above an obsidian pedestal, swirling with dark energy.
"This shard is corrupted," she said. "Touch it… and face what lies inside you."
Ethan hesitated. The crystal pulsed, drawing him toward it like a whisper in his mind.
"Will it hurt?"
"Yes."
He reached out.
The moment his fingers grazed the surface, the world disappeared.
---
He stood in a void of endless dark. No ground. No sky. Just swirling shadows and silence.
Then came the sound—low, guttural breathing.
A shape emerged from the dark. Not a monster. Not a beast.
It was him.
A mirror version of Ethan—same black hair, same blue eyes—but the look in its eyes was wrong. Hollow. Predatory. As if it had long forgotten what it meant to be human.
The double drew a blade wreathed in blue fire and charged.
Ethan parried just in time, sparks flying. The strength behind the blow was unnatural. Every swing from his shadow self felt like facing a force of nature.
This is what I could become, Ethan realized. If I lose control.
The fight raged, echoing in the void. But Ethan fought smarter now—using Juno's drills, keeping his mind sharp despite the fear.
Then he saw it—an opening. He feinted low, then slashed across the doppelgänger's chest. It staggered.
Ethan raised his sword and drove it through the double's heart.
Light exploded around him.
---
He collapsed back in the real world, gasping for air. The shard had shattered. His hands trembled, his mark glowing bright like fire beneath his skin.
Juno stood over him, unreadable. "You didn't just face it. You won."
"What… was that?" Ethan asked, still shaking.
"Your Beastmark's echo," she replied. "A manifestation of what you hold inside."
"Then it's not just a curse," Ethan whispered. "It's… a challenge."
Juno gave him the smallest of nods.
"You've taken the first step, Ethan," she said. "But remember—power doesn't care if you're ready. It only cares if you survive."
---