"ROUMIT!"
Armaan was the first to reach him, skidding to his knees on the rough cavern floor. His hands trembled as he pressed two fingers against Roumit's neck, his breath caught in his throat.
A pause.
Then—faint, but there. A pulse.
"Still alive…" he exhaled, relief flooding his chest, though it was quickly poisoned by unease.
Roumit's body convulsed faintly, his chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths. Sweat streamed down his pale face, his expression twisted as though he were fighting some unseen torment.
Armaan's eyes narrowed, his tone dropping into something grim.
"Something's wrong with him…"
He turned sharply, his gaze locking onto Zykarith. His voice came out heavier, more demanding.
"Hey… what's going on with him?"
Zykarith hesitated, her lips tightening. Then, with a reluctant breath, she answered,
"It must be the result of touching that crystal stone… the one the old man warned us about. He said not to touch it for a reason."
Armaan's eyes widened, anger sparking. He stood abruptly, closing the distance between them in a single stride. His hand shot out, gripping Zykarith by the collar and yanking her close.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" he barked, his voice echoing through the cavern walls. "It was just a test, wasn't it? Then why are there consequences—why now, after we've already passed it?"
Zykarith flinched, averting her gaze. For once, she had no ready answer. Her silence only fueled Armaan's fury. He shook her collar, his voice rough with desperation.
"Say something, damn it! What's going on?!"
"Armaan, stop!" Samar's firm voice cut through the rising tension.
Armaan froze, his grip tightening for a heartbeat longer before he glanced back.
Roumit's eyelids fluttered. His chest heaved, a ragged breath escaping his lips. Slowly, painfully—he was beginning to stir.
"Roumit!" Armaan rushed forward, dropping to his knees and carefully lifting his friend into his arms. His voice trembled with concern. "Hey, are you okay?"
Roumit inhaled sharply, his breath ragged and uneven. "Y-yeah… I'm okay," he muttered, though his expression betrayed unease. After a pause, he added in a low voice, "But… I saw a dream. And… I can't remember it."
Both Armaan and Samar froze, their eyes widening at the words. Samar leaned closer, curiosity laced with unease. "What kind of dream?"
Roumit's brows furrowed, as if searching his mind for fragments that slipped through his grasp. "That's the thing… I don't even remember a piece of it. I just… know I saw something. But what was it?" His voice cracked with frustration.
Armaan turned his gaze sharply toward Zykarith. "What's happening to him?" he demanded.
For the first time, Zykarith's voice carried a hint of unease. "…Even I don't know what's going on with him. I'm sorry."
Armaan's jaw tightened. He frowned but said nothing more to Zykarith, his focus snapping back to Roumit.
"Can you walk?" Armaan asked gently.
Roumit drew a shaky breath, then gave a weak smile. "I hope so." Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. To their relief, his legs held steady—one step, then another.
Armaan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Samar's lips curled into the faintest grin. Against all odds, Roumit was standing again.
Armaan stretched his shoulders with a heavy sigh, finally breaking the tense silence.
"Alright, for now… let's take a thirty–minute rest. Meanwhile, we can eat something."
He turned toward Zykarith, his tone shifting into something almost casual.
"Wanna join us? Earth's food is quite good…"
Zykarith blinked, her violet eyes widening in disbelief.
Eh? Just moments ago he was barking at me, and now he's inviting me to… eat? What's wrong with this human?
Armaan's mood had softened after seeing Roumit recovering. The storm of worry that had been clawing at his chest eased, but inside, he couldn't silence the guilt. I was useless back there… I couldn't protect him at all. Still, he forced a grin, masking the turmoil behind his easygoing facade.
Zykarith's lips parted slightly, then closed again. After a moment of hesitation, she gave a small nod, her voice quiet but firm.
"…Very well. I'll accept."
Samar, relieved to see the tension finally breaking, crouched and opened his bag. "Good thing I packed this…" He pulled out a couple of tiffin boxes, the lids clicking softly as he opened them. A warm, creamy aroma immediately filled the air.
Inside—white sauce pasta.
Armaan's eyes lit up almost childishly. "Heh, you brought that? Samar, you legend!"
Roumit chuckled weakly from his spot, his voice still faint. "Figures… Armaan's favorite food would be waiting even in a place like this…"
The three friends laughed, the heaviness lifting just a little, while Zykarith, arms crossed, tried not to look too intrigued by the steaming food before her.
Armaan slid one of the tiffin boxes across to Zykarith, his expression softer than before.
"Sorry for my misbehavior earlier… Please, have this."
There was a sincerity in his tone, a raw weight of guilt that made even Zykarith falter. She tilted her head slightly, violet eyes narrowing, as though testing whether he really meant it. Then, for the first time since their encounter, her lips curved into a faint smirk.
"Oh? So the mighty human does know how to apologize," she teased, her voice laced with a playfulness that felt oddly foreign coming from her.
Armaan scratched the back of his head, forcing a grin to cover the self-loathing simmering beneath the surface. "Yeah, well… better late than never, right?"
The tension between them finally began to melt away.
When Zykarith picked up the fork and twirled the creamy white sauce pasta, she brought it carefully to her lips. The moment the flavor hit her tongue, her eyes widened in genuine surprise.
"…A–amazing," she muttered, unable to stop the word from escaping her.
Her violet irises gleamed like polished jewels under the dim cave light. But as soon as she realized how openly childish she had sounded, she froze. A faint blush spread across her porcelain skin, reddening her cheeks in a way that made her look far more human than alien.
Samar, of course, caught it instantly.
"Well, well… looks like someone's fallen for Earth food," he said with a mischievous grin.
Zykarith's head snapped toward him, flustered. "S–shut up!"
Her embarrassment only deepened when Samar chuckled, clearly enjoying her rare display of innocence.
After finishing their meal, Armaan stretched his arms with a satisfied grin before standing up.
"Alright then… let's continue our journey!" he announced with fresh determination.
The others nodded, brushing off the crumbs and standing as well. Together, the group resumed their trek toward the towering mountain that loomed in the distance. The trail was quiet—too quiet—aside from the crunch of gravel under their boots. Hours passed in that silence until Samar, unable to contain his curiosity, finally spoke up.
"Hey, why isn't the next te—"
Before he could finish, the ground beneath him gave way with a violent suction. His words were cut short as he was suddenly yanked downward, vanishing in an instant.
"Sama—!?" Roumit's voice cracked in panic, but before he could even move, the same invisible force dragged him into the earth as well.
Armaan spun around, eyes widening. "Hey, guys, whe—!?!"
The words died in his throat as the same pull seized him too, the world flipping upside down before everything went black.
When they landed, it was anything but graceful.
THUD!
Armaan, Samar, and Roumit crashed onto a solid floor, the impact rattling their bones. Samar winced, rubbing his sore backside.
"I was just saying… why the next test isn't appearing—" he grumbled, dragging his words with theatrical pain. "And here we are."
He let out a heavy sigh, his tsukkomi perfectly timed.
The three of them slowly got back on their feet, brushing dust from their clothes. They found themselves in a massive arena, its stone walls stretching impossibly high, torchlight flickering to reveal an emptiness that seemed to breathe.
Armaan's sharp gaze darted around, his tone carrying a hint of panic. "Hey guys… where's Zykarith?"
Roumit shrugged, his voice flat. "Beats me."
But before they could search further, a calm voice echoed through the arena.
"Hey, guys…"
The sound carried from a shadowed chamber above. As they looked up, Zykarith came into view, seated casually in what resembled a throne-like room overlooking the arena. Her expression was unreadable, her tone strangely apologetic.
"Sorry for the trouble," she said softly, though her presence carried weight. "But I'll be taking your test this time."
Her violet eyes glimmered as she rose to her feet, spreading her aura across the arena like a suffocating tide.
"So," her lips curved into a faint smile, "let's begin the second stage of the Draconic Awakening."
Armaan smuggled a little, his lips twitching into a faint grin before he muttered in a perfectly straight tone,
"Traitor."
The word dropped like a stone, making Zykarith's violet eyes flare in outrage. She rose to her feet so quickly the ground beneath her seemed to shiver. A comical rage-mark practically appeared on her forehead as she leaned forward, pointing a trembling finger at him.
"For whom do you think I'm doing this?!" she snapped, her voice ringing sharp and fiery.
Armaan blinked, taken aback, then raised both hands defensively.
"No, no, no, no… Why are these guys even there in this test!?" His exasperation sounded almost childlike, a note of genuine panic mixed in.
Zykarith froze for a heartbeat, then—shockingly—her lips curved into the faintest of smiles. A small, knowing smirk.
"Good question," she said softly, her tone shifting into a calm but teacher-like explanation. "The second stage tests your teamwork and synchronization. So it is important for them to be in the test."
Her words hung in the air, cool and logical, but the blush that still lingered faintly on her pale cheeks betrayed how easily she could be flustered.
Roumit, who had been silent until now, pushed his glasses up with a subtle frown. The faint reflection of the torchlight gleamed off the lenses, hiding his eyes.
"So," he murmured, his voice precise and curious, "what's going to happen in this test?"
His calm tone cut through the rising tension, dragging all eyes back to Zykarith once again
Then Zykarith said with her usual smirk, "Good question."
Armaan's face immediately turned cartoonish as he yelled, veins popping on his forehead like an anime gag, "How many times are you gonna say that!?"
Zykarith casually ignored his outburst, only making him fume more. But after a pause, she finally explained with a calm yet sharp tone:
"In this stage, you don't need to overthink. Your only task is teamwork. Armaan, Samar, Roumit—you will face wave after wave of humans. And you must defeat them all… without using your weapons."
In the blink of an eye, Armaan's Aether Blade vanished from his hand and appeared in Zykarith's palm. She twirled it once and said coldly:
"This will stay with me until then."
Armaan narrowed his eyes but chose not to protest, silently clenching his fists.
Samar leaned forward with a grin, breaking the tension. "Oh, so it's like that zombie apocalypse game, huh?"
Zykarith tilted her head, confused. "What!?"
Armaan smirked mischievously, adding fuel to the fire: "Yeah… in that game we kill guys like you."
Zykarith's eyes widened before she snapped at him, her voice echoing through the trial chamber. Meanwhile, the three boys exchanged uneasy glances.
Inside, all of them were thinking the same thing:
This stage… it won't be as simple as she makes it sound.
Zykarith's lips curled into a sly smirk as her eyes scanned over the three of them.
"But I don't think you'll even be able to beat a single wave," she teased lightly, her gaze lingering on Armaan. "Especially with you being armless…"
Her words hung in the air like a challenge.
The three of them—who had already started rolling up their sleeves with quiet determination—suddenly froze. Their playful expressions vanished, replaced by something sharp, cold, and utterly unamused.
Slowly, as if moved by the same rhythm, they turned their heads toward Zykarith. Their eyes locked onto her, and in perfect unison, their voices cut through the silence:
"Huh!? Who do you think we are?"