Three months had passed, and during those three months, I was under training with Draven.
The reason was to sharpen the crucial aspects of combat before starting any mission.
And since I already had an "identity," I could freely wander through the corners of the city.
Then, there was something I learned during my stay in this organization: the Mutants under The Umbra worked only in external divisions. They were never placed in internal work because their behavior and powers were ill-suited for such roles.
And in these few months, I had only met a handful of Mutants from The Umbra who worked on external tasks. Mutants wielding Fire Elemental powers, Shadow Force, and innate Hybrid abilities—each of them terrifying in their own way.
After seeing them firsthand, I finally understood why the Government wanted to hunt Mutants down.
But I would never allow it; they were lives just as precious as humans and every other living being…
Oh right! Today, Draven asked me to do "something." I was curious about what that "something" might be…
My footsteps echoed through the grand corridor, beneath the brilliance of the chandeliers. The air was cold, tinged with that familiar metallic scent.
In the distance, a massive steel door came into view. I quickened my pace until I stood right before it.
My hand rose, pressing against the door. Muscles tensed, body pushed forward, legs driving. The door groaned open.
A flood of brighter light blinded me for a moment, forcing my eyes shut.
Then I opened them again.
As always, this chamber looked vast no matter how one viewed it. A circular space forged from hardened steel, tested countless times for durability.
"Finally, you're here." Draven stood in the middle of the arena, gripping two blades in his hands. His tone was heavier than before.
My gaze flicked at him, then swept around the room.
"Your strength keeps growing with time. What's your secret?" Draven asked. I knew it was only bait.
"None. I just follow every instruction you've given me."
"But you always manage to master everything I teach perfectly."
"Perhaps talent?" I replied. In truth, I did possess abilities beyond normal humans, and that was pure talent.
"…You're better off being called a 'monster' than talented," he said flatly. "Ah… I forgot, you really are a 'monster.'"
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Draven chuckled low. "You've always surpassed my expectations. For example, that door behind you—there shouldn't be anyone who could push open steel weighing one hundred and fifty tons. Yet you did it, with nothing but raw strength."
Indeed, no human could possibly push one hundred and fifty tons, unless they had some form of advanced tech.
The Umbra believed I was a Mutant with energy manipulation powers. But they were utterly wrong. Just because of my strength, they labeled me as a Mutant.
In truth, that steel door wasn't supposed to be opened manually—it was automatic. But because Draven wanted to personally train me, he had the mechanism disabled. Fortunately, I was able to push it open gradually in a short span of time—an abnormal development for sheer physical force.
"You too, what kind of human could push a door weighing one hundred and fifty tons? Especially someone like you, a retired soldier who should already be in his twilight years, right?" I asked, a thin smirk tugging at my lips. I still remembered the first day of training, when Draven led me here. He made me push that door alone each time before practice. And when I couldn't, when the faint light began to bleed through the gap, it was always him who finished the push.
Draven stayed silent, exhaling deeply—a sign of surrender in digging for my secrets.
"Everyone has their own secrets, so let's just forget today's conversation," he said. Behind that mask, he was smiling. I could tell from the way his eyes narrowed slightly, and from the lighter tone in his voice.
"Fair enough," I replied. "So, what kind of 'something' will you teach me today?"
Draven was quiet, clearly pondering something. "Nova… this will be your final training. The closure of everything you've poured in so far."
"What do you mean?"
"You must defeat me in a duel. If you fail, try again tomorrow. And if you still fail, then again. Until at last, you manage to bring me down."
"…Very well," I answered, accepting the challenge. My goal was to complete this training with all I had. But I would have to keep my power within its bounds.
Let's begin…
Energy coursed through my veins like a pulse. Firefly-like sparks gathered into my palms—forming metal-like gauntlets of raw energy around both hands.
"Hoo~ gauntlets? Truly unpredictable," Draven muttered as he raised his twin swords. His left leg stepped forward, body sliding into stance.
Of course, I chose gauntlets. They had always been my specialty.
I lowered into position. Feet spread slightly, knees bent, shoulders leaning forward. My breathing evened out. Every second slowed, every sound around me dimmed—my focus narrowed on a single point: Draven.
He didn't move. His gaze was piercing, sharp, calculating. The blades in his hands shimmered, catching the light from the steel dome above. The air between us tightened, stretched like a string drawn too taut.
"I'll begin," I whispered.
Draven nodded.
And then I vanished.
My body shot forward in an instant, leaving faint trails of light in my wake. My right foot struck the ground, launching me left, then right, zigzagging with no pattern. I knew Draven could read his opponents' movements—so I had to become chaos itself.
But by the time I arrived behind him, Draven had already twisted, one blade whipping upward toward my ribs.
Clang!
My energy gauntlet blocked it, sparks bursting between steel and energy. The vibration rattled through my bones.
Draven spun, his second blade slicing down from above.
I leapt back, twisting midair, landing on one hand before springing off to regain distance.
"You've grown stronger again," he muttered.
"I must."
My next assault was fiercer. Fists rained from every angle, each strike laced with energy bursts—miniature explosions distorting the air around us.
But Draven danced through them, his movements graceful yet lethal. He didn't just evade—he read, analyzed, and adapted to every opening.
Two of my strikes landed on his wrist, forcing him to loosen his grip on the left sword. Yet in an instant, he kicked my chest, sending me hurtling back until I nearly slammed into the steel wall.
I crashed onto the floor, but rose before the pain could register.
"You dropped that blade on purpose?" I asked.
"Maybe I just wanted to boost your confidence," he replied. "But perhaps I've been too generous today."
Now only one sword remained in his grip, while his free hand began to glow. A dark crimson light, like controlled flames. I had never seen this before—never even knew he possessed such a power. All this time, he had relied only on his body and swordsmanship.
"Draven…" I muttered. "You've been hiding this from me?"
He lowered his head slightly. "Not hiding. Restraining. So that no one would ever learn of my true power—or my weakness. But now, before me, stands a Mutant equal to my own strength… someone worthy of witnessing it."
From his glowing hand, mysterious patterns surfaced in the air. Like ancient seals, or perhaps advanced technology beyond my comprehension. The ground trembled. The walls echoed with thunder.
I stepped forward. My shoulder bled, yet my body refused to fall. My eyes burned sharp.
"In that case," I said through clenched teeth, "I'll fight seriously too."
.....