The morning was cruel in its brightness. Blood-red sunlight seeped into gold across the horizon, but the wasteland offered no comfort. Jagged ruins jutted from the earth like broken teeth, casting long, twisted shadows over a land that smelled of ash, blood, and decay.
Every step Aria took felt heavier than it should, weighted not just by exhaustion, but by the invisible chains the System had pressed against her chest. She adjusted the strap of her gear, wincing as her cleaver dug into her shoulder. Bruised and battered, her body screamed, yet she refused to let it slow her. Every ache in her chest reminded her of inevitability, and the words burned into her vision flickered behind her eyelids: If one dies, both perish.
Lysander moved beside her with the quiet precision of a predator, though each step was careful, measured. The arrow in his shoulder left him pale, breath shallow and uneven, yet he made no sound of complaint. His sword hung at his side, streaked with dried blood, the tip catching the morning light in a faint glimmer.
Aria's eyes followed him. The taut muscles, the slow, deliberate placement of each step… he looked like a man who had stared death in the face and decided spitefully to keep moving anyway.
Hours passed in near silence. The wasteland offered no mercy—only the crunch of boots over gravel, distant cries of circling birds, and the oppressive stillness that settled between them. Words about their bond felt fragile, too small to hold the gravity of the truth. Neither dared speak them aloud.
Then the System intervened.
A flicker of light blinked at the edge of Aria's vision.
[Bond Sync: 42%]
[New Skill Unlocked: Shared Vitality]
[Description: Damage, pain, and recovery may be partially transferred between bound partners.]
[Warning: Effects unstable at current sync level.]
Her stomach tightened. She stumbled to a halt, rereading the words, heart hammering in her chest. Shared Vitality. Damage, pain, recovery… shared. Between them.
Lysander stopped as well. His expression was unreadable, eyes scanning the notification with a slow, deliberate exhale. "The System is laughing at us," he muttered.
"Or testing us," Aria said softly, voice bitter, taste metallic on her tongue.
Part of her recoiled. Part of her was… curious. She remembered fragments of the bond during the battle—the way the axe had nearly ended her, the rush of pain and energy, the way survival had forced them together. This, though… this felt different. Intimate. Dangerous.
Lysander's eyes narrowed. "We need to know what it does."
She blinked, disbelief and anxiety colliding. "You mean… try it? On purpose?"
"Better now than in the middle of another fight," he said flatly. No argument, no malice—only the steel-edged pragmatism of a survivor.
Aria clenched her fists, hate and agreement twisting together. He was right, and she hated it.
They moved off the road, seeking shelter in the ruins where shadows pooled thickly and walls offered cover. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating. Her pulse drummed in her ears. She turned to him, uncertain.
"How do we…?" Her words caught. "…do this safely?"
Lysander drew a small dagger from his belt, blade catching dim morning light. Without a word, he pressed it carefully across his palm, dragging it just enough to draw blood.
"Wait—" she gasped, stepping toward him, heart racing.
But it was too late. Blood welled bright and hot across his hand.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then she felt it. Sharp, sudden, searing pain flared across her own palm. She hissed, jerking back, and saw her skin splitting along the same line, blood beading where there had been nothing moments ago.
Her stomach lurched. She clutched her palm, staring from her wound to his.
"You—" her voice cracked. "What the hell, Lysander!"
He didn't flinch. Blood dripped down his wrist, face set in grim lines. "Shared Vitality," he said simply.
The System pulsed again.
[Shared Pain Detected]
[Current Sync: 44%]
Her breath came fast and ragged. The pain was real. Not dulled. Not simulated. If he were gutted, she would feel it too. If she were burned alive, he would burn with her.
"This is insane," she whispered, teeth clenched.
"It's the System," he said quietly, controlled, but something flickered in his eyes—fear buried beneath layers of steel.
Aria wiped the blood against her torn trousers, shaking. She forced herself upright, chin lifted, determination hardening in her chest. "Fine. But if we share pain, maybe we share healing too."
It was a gamble, a frightening one—but fear would not rule them. She focused, summoning a weak glow from her flickering healing skill, pressing it to her palm. Warmth spread, gentle but insistent. The cut stitched closed, leaving only a thin scar.
Across from her, Lysander hissed softly. She looked up in shock to see his palm knitting together under the same glow.
It worked.
Her heart leapt, caught between dread and wonder.
The System pulsed again.
[Shared Recovery Confirmed]
[Current Sync: 47%]
She met his gaze, pulse racing. "So… we can hurt each other. Or keep each other alive."
He held her stare a long moment before sliding the dagger back into its sheath. "Then we train," he said, calm but firm. "Before the System decides to test us for real."
The days that followed blurred into a rhythm of survival and experiment. Aria and Lysander moved among the ruins, each step a negotiation with pain and exhaustion. The wasteland offered no mercy, no shade, only the smell of ash, rot, and iron, with a faint metallic tang of old blood lingering in the air.
For the first time, they had a strange purpose: to understand the bond that tethered them, to explore Shared Vitality before the System forced them into another fight they might not survive.
Sparring became their language. Each clash of steel was a question and answer, a test of rhythm, trust, and timing. When Aria swung her cleaver, she could feel Lysander's heartbeat in her mind, the tremor of his muscles, the tension in his shoulders. When he pushed himself too hard, she staggered with the echo of his exhaustion. The first few sessions were chaotic. Pain echoed, moves misaligned, fatigue doubled.
Yet slowly, imperceptibly, they began to move in sync.
Aria ducked a swing meant for him; Lysander slid in to cover her flank. She struck low, he struck high. They learned to anticipate, to feel the gap between strike and counterstrike, the ebb and flow of energy between them. Sometimes they laughed bitterly at failures, sometimes cursed quietly when pain surged through both of them.
The System noticed.
[Bond Sync: 50%]
[Skill Strengthened: Shared Vitality (Stabilized)]
[New Passive: Dual Awareness – minor sense of partner's position and condition]
It was subtle at first, a whisper at the back of her mind. A thrum she could feel without looking. Aria sensed Lysander's heartbeat quicken when danger pressed close, the faint pull of his exhaustion when he overextended. He felt hers in return.
The next test came sooner than expected. Hunger clawed at their bellies. Shadows stretched long across the ruins. From the edge of the rubble, a lone corrupted beast emerged, its twisted body and glowing eyes tinged with System corruption. It moved fast, claws sharp enough to shred stone.
Normally, Aria would have hesitated, frozen with fear. But with Lysander at her side, with the faint thrum of his presence steady in her mind, she felt something that had been absent for months: courage.
The fight began clumsy, chaotic. The beast lunged, their timing faltering. Its claws scraped across her shoulder. Pain flared through her, mirrored in Lysander's body. He staggered, grunting, yet refused to falter. Synchronization was imperfect, jagged—but alive.
Aria adjusted, moving with him instead of against him. She slashed low while he struck high. She felt the rhythm of his movements, the subtle lean of his weight, the angle of his strikes. When her cleaver sank into the beast's flank, Lysander was already there, driving his sword through its throat.
The creature fell, a spray of black ichor splattering the ground, twitching once before going still.
Breathless, Aria leaned on her cleaver, chest heaving, sweat stinging her eyes. Lysander stood beside her, hands on knees, breathing in near-perfect sync with hers. Neither spoke for a long moment, absorbing the quiet aftermath.
Then the System pulsed in her vision.
[Hunt Completed]
[Shared Vitality Tested]
[Bond Sync: 55%]
The number glowed brighter than any reward she had ever seen. Proof—they could fight as one. That survival might not be impossible.
Aria glanced at Lysander, taking in the blood streaked across his jaw, the sweat glistening on his skin, the fatigue shadowing his eyes. He met her gaze, and for the first time, she saw more than steel. Something warmer, softer—something that made her chest tighten with fear and reluctant trust.
It was a strange sensation, this bond growing between them. They hadn't asked for it. They hadn't chosen it. Yet here it was, pulsing silently, a tether that both protected and terrified.
Aria swallowed hard, looking away to hide the tremor in her hands. The wasteland stretched endlessly ahead, dangers lurking behind every crumbling wall, every shadow. And yet, for the first time since the System had decreed their fate, she did not feel like prey.
Together, she realized, they might just have a chance.
Every morning, every step, every heartbeat reminded them that survival was no longer just a solitary struggle. It was a shared one, fraught with danger, pain, and risk—but also possibility.
Pain and healing, fear and courage, exhaustion and resilience—they would now face it all side by side. And for the first time in a long time, Aria allowed herself a quiet thought, almost a whisper of hope:
Maybe… just maybe… we can survive this. Together.