Gina watched Michael launch himself towards her at incomprehensible speed.
"Boy, honestly, I don't have time for this. Besides, you're like a cockroach. You just don't die."
She casually swayed to the side.
Michael missed her completely.
Shock flashed across his face. Before he could even process what had happened, blood rose into his throat. His body locked up, and every muscle began to constrict violently.
Steam poured from his body.
The pain was unbearable.
Tears streamed down Michael's face, not because he was crying, but because his body was forcibly producing them in response to the agony. His heart pounded as adrenaline surged through his system, desperately trying to help him endure the pain.
It made no difference.
Gina looked down at him, almost amused.
"Boy, you're smart. But you're not smart enough."
She crouched slightly, studying the helpless figure twitching on the ground.
"You noticed the power gap between us, yet you thought an immature RELEASE would be enough to close it? Let me explain something to you."
She raised a finger.
"First, your core is damaged from using that power repeatedly without considering the consequences. Second, yes, you can heal, but you do it at the expense of your energy. Your body has reached its physical limit, and your energy reserves are depleted."
She paused, allowing her words to sink in.
"And now, you have to suffer all the consequences you've been avoiding every time you use RELEASE."
Michael's mind felt as though thousands of needles were piercing it simultaneously.
The pain wouldn't stop.
He couldn't even stab himself to escape it. His muscles refused to obey him, leaving him helpless on the ground, twitching like an electrocuted squirrel.
All he could do was endure.
Gina burst out laughing.
"Unfortunately, this shouldn't kill you. As much as I'd love to take you back to my master, he'd slaughter you instantly in your current state. He might even be disgusted by how weak you are."
She shrugged.
"But hey, look on the bright side. How many students from your school—what was it called? Emox?—can say they've cut off a demon's arm?"
She held up the severed limb.
"None, probably."
Before Michael could make sense of her words, Gina's arm began to regenerate before his eyes. Flesh and tissue reformed until her arm was whole again.
Michael could do nothing but watch.
Sweat dripped from his face as he screamed internally, trapped inside a body that refused to respond to him. The backlash from repeatedly using his ability was devastating.
But the pain wasn't even the worst part.
He hadn't made a dent in her.
Not a meaningful one.
Despite everything he'd unleashed, despite pushing himself beyond his limits, he had been little more than an ant trying to fight a monster.
Gina glanced at him one last time.
"I never got your name. Doesn't matter, though. With your energy signature, I'll find you again easily."
She turned away.
"I'll leave you here for now. Get stronger, boy. And at least learn to use that stolen power properly while it lasts."
She stopped briefly.
"In your current condition, you should be like this for about a week. You'll probably be able to stand in a few hours, though."
Her tail swayed behind her as she looked back at him.
"One last piece of advice. Don't engage with everything you encounter. This is the Wasteland. Most things here kill and eat whatever they can."
A faint smile crossed her face.
"You're both lucky and unlucky today."
And with that, Gina disappeared.
Not through teleportation. Not through a portal.
She simply moved.
A few seconds later, the ground erupted in a cloud of dust, the earth's delayed reaction revealing just how fast she had been.
Michael remained curled up on the ground, drenched in sweat and consumed by pain.
Eventually, he forced himself to move.
Every movement felt like torture. He dragged himself towards his bag, his fingers digging into the earth as he struggled to crawl.
When he finally reached his base, he found that much of it had been destroyed during the fight.
He didn't have the strength to repair it.
He barely had the strength to think.
Michael dragged himself into a hollow log and collapsed, unconscious.
He had finally understood something.
Gina could have killed him at any point during their fight.
She had never needed to take him seriously.
And he had mistaken his own desperation for strength.
Unbeknownst to Michael, he wasn't alone.
Several beasts had already sensed his presence. They watched him from the surrounding wasteland, their mouths hanging open as saliva dripped from their jaws.
He was helpless.
Easy prey.
Yet none of them approached.
An unseen barrier surrounded the area, preventing the beasts from reaching him.
Gina had established it before leaving.
Michael had no idea.
Elsewhere in the Wasteland, Zion watched over Elizabeth as she lay submerged in cool water.
Her burns were severe. Zion wasn't particularly skilled at treating injuries, but he believed that keeping her cool and finding food would at least help her survive.
He had little else to work with.
"Damn it…"
His gaze settled on Elizabeth.
Unlike Michael, most Mourners and Reliers didn't possess a natural healing factor unless their abilities specifically granted them one. Although EMO was energy, healing through mastery alone was possible, but few ever attained that level of control.
Zion couldn't afford to rely on it.
He had another problem.
Food.
He hadn't eaten since entering the Wasteland. Until now, he had survived by hiding and avoiding the unnecessary use of his abilities.
But carrying Elizabeth had changed everything.
His energy was burning rapidly, and he couldn't keep moving her around indefinitely. If he didn't find food, neither of them would last.
The Wasteland was exactly what its name suggested: a desolate expanse of ruin. Most of its vegetation was infected, and the soil could no longer support ordinary growth.
For the students who had come unprepared, survival would be a matter of hunting—or starving.
Unlike Michael, who had made preparations before entering the Wasteland, Zion had not thought far enough ahead.
Now he was paying for it.
He looked down at Elizabeth one last time.
She was vulnerable, injured and unable to protect herself.
Leaving her alone was dangerous.
But staying beside her without food was no solution either.
"I need to find food quickly," he muttered. "It's not safe for her here."
Zion rose and sprinted towards the nearest forest, hoping to find something edible before it was too late.
Behind him, Elizabeth remained motionless in the cool water.
And somewhere beyond the trees, the Wasteland waited.