The silence of the void pressed against Sid like a whisper that wouldn't stop.
It had been hours — or maybe days — since their last conversation. He sat near Avi's shoulder, legs crossed, fists resting on his knees. The small beast core Dante had given him earlier had already dissolved into him… but no gate opened. No surge of power. Just warmth. Lingering. Elusive.
His teeth clenched.
"It's unfair."
His voice was low, but carried.
Avi didn't answer. Dante, however, raised an eyebrow from where he lay sprawled against her back, arms behind his head again.
"What now?"
Sid looked up, eyes burning.
"Our gate trials. Why do we have it harder?"
Dante tilted his head back and let out a sigh.
"Here we go."
"I'm serious," Sid snapped. "We live in a secluded world. We don't have resources like those from the upper worlds. Much worse, our trials are set to be harder."
Dante finally sat up, looking at him without a smile this time.
"It is fair," he said flatly. "You just don't like how it works."
Sid blinked. "How is being punished fair?"
"It's not punishment," Avi said, her voice quiet, smooth. "Once you succeeded on your awakening, you'll understand."
Dante nodded. Then after a moment he asked. "Kid, what do you think made most of the universe?"
He didn't answer right away. Thinking deeply as he look at the endless void blankly, a sudden and obvious realization hits him and he muttered "...Darkness."
"Exactly," Dante said. "The answer is in front of you. Do you understand now?"
"Yes..."
Avi added, "Darkness is abundant… but wild. Not meant to be wielded easily. That's why your trials are steep. Abundance always demands a price."
Dante smirked. "Just because you've got food in your hands doesn't mean you get to eat without chewing."
Sid sat quietly, breath slowing.
Now it all made sense.
They flew through a corridor of fractured moonlight — long strands of astral ice drifting like broken glass. Sid found himself staring down again, voice softer.
"Then how do our people survive it until now? If the trial is harder… why aren't we extinct?"
Dante's smile returned — a different one this time.
"Our ancestors got clever."
He leaned forward, arms resting on his knees.
"A way to increase survival. Simple yet effective."
Sid looked up. "What was it?"
"They threw themselves into battles," Dante said. "Constantly. Not just with their equals… but even to stronger opponents. Life and death battles. Over and over."
His voice sharpened.
"When you fight someone stronger — truly stronger — your instincts evolve. Your technique grows. Your understanding of life and death deepens. That is what elevates your battle prowess. Even your will to survive."
Avi nodded. "Even if your replica overpowered you in terms of cultivation, it cannot replicate all your experience. It may copy your movement and techniques, but not entirely your battle instinct honed by battle experience."
Sid's brows knit as a new thought struck him.
"Wait," he said. "If the replica can even copy the movements and techniques of enemies I've faced… then wouldn't fighting stronger enemies will just make it even more harder to beat?"
He frowned. "Wouldn't that defeat the whole point?"
Dante grinned, completely unfazed.
"Why be afraid of something you already fought?"
Sid blinked.
"Kid, remember this. You don't fight just to win," Dante continued. "You fight to absorb. To learn from your enemies. Their rhythm. Their flaws. Your flaws."
He leaned back again, eyes half-lidded.
"Your replica copies what you've seen. It'll be strong, sure, but if you learn something from every battle, so will you."
Avi added quietly, "Experience isn't the burden. It's the advantage — if you have the mind to make it one."
For a while, nothing was said.
Then, quietly, Sid broke the silence again.
"What about the others?"
Dante opened one eye.
"Others?"
"My friends," Sid said, almost hesitating. "Sierra. Juno. The juniors like me. They're still in the village. They don't know any of this."
He paused.
"Why am I the only one leaving to train…?"
For a moment, neither Avi nor Dante answered.
"Everyone goes. You're just early." Dante said in a serious tone, then he continue "Our people needs to walk the path. The path where weak gets eliminated while the strong one qualifies to face the next Gate ahead."
Sid turned away, fists clenched — not in defiance, but to hide the tremble. Thinking of the bittersweet path, waiting ahead.
Avi's wings glided silently through a stream of silver stars, the silence stretching once again.
Sid closed his eyes. His thoughts no longer clung to cores or power or unfairness.
Only faces.
His friends.
Their future.
And the path they, too, would be forced to walk.