The air inside the underground chamber was thick, not with dust, but with tension. Quinn's eyes darted between Layla and Vorden. The latter stood casually, hands in his pockets, but Quinn could see the glint in his eyes—a sign that one of his "others" might be awake.
"You followed me," Quinn said flatly, his voice low.
Layla crossed her arms. "You disappeared without telling anyone. What did you expect?"
Quinn's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't have the luxury of explaining everything—not here. The blood crystal still pulsed faintly in his palm, and the system's notifications from earlier echoed in his mind.
> [Warning: Excessive use of blood aura detected. Recommend rest to avoid fatigue penalties.]
Vorden leaned against the damp stone wall. "So… are you going to explain what that little performance was? Or do we pretend you're just really good at magic?"
Quinn could feel his patience thinning. "It's better if you don't know."
Layla's brow furrowed. "Quinn, we've fought together. We've risked our lives together. If you can't trust us—"
"It's not about trust!" he snapped, the words sharper than he intended. "It's about keeping you both alive."
A silence followed. The sound of dripping water somewhere deeper in the tunnels filled the void.
Vorden's smirk didn't fade. "Funny. I've heard that excuse before. People who say that usually end up hiding something dangerous."
Quinn's jaw tightened. He's not wrong. But if they knew about the system… about what he really was… there was no going back.
The faint scrape of metal echoed from the tunnel entrance. Quinn's instincts screamed a warning. Without a word, he moved to the front, his eyes narrowing as three figures emerged from the darkness—students, but not ordinary ones. Their combat uniforms bore the insignia of a higher tier class.
"Well, well," the tallest one sneered. "What do we have here? A couple of rats in our hunting grounds."
Layla reached for her crossbow. "We're not here to cause trouble."
"Too late," the leader said, drawing a short blade. The other two followed suit, their weapons glinting in the faint light.
Quinn stepped forward, blood already starting to stir in his veins. "Leave. Now."
The leader laughed. "Or what? You'll glare us to death?"
In the blink of an eye, Quinn activated Blood Dash. One moment he was standing still, the next he was behind the first attacker. His elbow slammed into the man's back, sending him crashing into the wall.
Layla's bolt flew, grazing another's arm. Vorden moved in, his movements unnervingly precise, switching from offense to defense in fluid bursts as if his body remembered more than one fighting style at once.
The leader roared, slashing at Quinn. The blade came dangerously close, but Quinn caught his wrist, twisting hard until a sickening crack filled the tunnel. The man screamed, dropping his weapon.
The last of the attackers fled into the darkness, muttering curses.
Breathing heavily, Layla lowered her weapon. "That wasn't normal speed, Quinn. I've seen you fight before, but that—"
"Forget about it," he interrupted.
"No," Vorden said, stepping forward. "You don't get to pull that card anymore. We just risked ourselves for you. You owe us the truth."
Quinn met his gaze, the weight of the secret heavy in his chest. "If I tell you… you can't go back to not knowing. And if word gets out, we're all dead."
Layla exchanged a glance with Vorden. "Then we keep it between us."
For a long moment, Quinn considered them both. The system pulsed in his mind, warning of the danger of revealing too much. But another part of him—the part that was tired of hiding—began to waver.
Finally, he spoke. "Fine. But you asked for this."