Marcus opened his eyes, staring up at the now-familiar ceiling of the tent. Three days had passed since his arrival, each filled with relentless training. Each morning began with him practicing the Ether technique for three hours. Once finished, he went out to hunt breakfast. After returning and eating, he transformed into his monstrous form for the first sparring session. Following that, he rested for two hours to recover his ether, then did a second hour-long sparring session. Another two-hour break allowed him to restore his ether again. Finally, he transformed once more, but this time the focus was on movement exercises—running, jumping, and traversing the forest to improve agility and control in his monstrous form—before heading out to hunt dinner before sleep.
Marcus leaves the camp and sees Kara over there, already awake, typing on her laptop—probably working. He then heads toward the open plain, where he practices the technique.
Once in the plain, Marcus picks up a stone from the ground. The movement starts from his legs, grounding him and generating power through his hips. He channels this energy upward, through his torso, arms, and finally into his hands. Every detail of the throw is precise—the snap of his wrist, the guidance of his fingers, the subtle rotation of the stone in midair. Ether flows through him, reinforcing the stone and enhancing its trajectory. Each motion is deliberate, perfectly synchronized with his breath and stance, maximizing both accuracy and power.
When the stone flies, it hits the tree with a sharp, resonant crack. Bark splinters under the impact, and a small branch snaps off, confirming the precision and force of his throw.
After countless repetitions, Marcus is now able to execute the technique correctly ten out of ten times, the ether flowing precisely as needed with each throw. He remembered Kara telling him that reaching this level had taken her far longer, which filled him with a quiet sense of pride.Marcus remembered the look on Kara's face when he had told her his name openly. She had admitted herself that it had taken her far longer to reach the same level of mastery, which made his progress feel even more significant.
After three hours of practice, Marcus set off to hunt breakfast, moving with a steady trot through the forest. After about an hour, he heard a harsh, cawing noise. Ahead, a massive crow-like creature—roughly the size of a desk—was flying between the trees
Marcus inhaled deeply, centering his focus as he channeled ether into the stone. He visualized the flight path, anticipating the creature's erratic movements, and guided the ether precisely through his fingers to the stone's core. As he released it, the stone soared with uncanny speed, slicing through the air. The first attempt missed, skimming harmlessly past the creature's wing as it banked to the side. Marcus recalibrated instantly, adjusting the angle and the subtle flow of ether, feeling the pulse of energy running through his hands. The second throw left his fingers with perfect timing and force, the ether-infused stone striking the wing with a sharp, resonant crack. The massive creature wobbled in the air, flapped frantically, and then crashed to the forest floor, wings splayed, unable to maintain flight. Marcus's chest rose and fell with exhilaration, the hours of practice finally paying off in a tangible, victorious moment.
However, a shadow suddenly emerged from nowhere. An agile creature, 2,50 meters tall, resembling a black panther, slinked between the trees, its muscles coiled and eyes glowing with intensity. Marcus recognized it immediately: a Sableon, a predator known for its speed and cunning in the wild. It was a Lurker, the first level of monsters, and one of the strongest mid. Just as there are five levels of Transformers, there are also five levels of monsters, each roughly corresponding to the other's power range; a Sableon of this category could pose a serious challenge for someone like Marcus, who fell into the low end of Sentinel.
Marcus froze for a heartbeat, stunned by the sudden appearance of the Sableon. But he quickly regained his composure, scanning the surroundings and analyzing his options. Retreat was impossible—though his monstrous form granted him greater endurance, he was slower than the predator. Kara had given him a communicator to call for help in situations like this, but she would take time to arrive.
As he weighed his choices, the Sableon paused, sniffing the air, and lifted its head. Its gaze fell on the giant crow Marcus had downed earlier, immediately recognizing a potential target.
The Sableon lunged first, its powerful limbs propelling it forward in a blur of black muscle and claws. Marcus threw himself into a roll to the right, the ground scraping under his plated skin as he narrowly avoided the strike. He forced himself to focus, his mind racing—Kara's lessons echoing in fragments. Against beast-type monsters, brute strength alone wasn't enough; their bodies were built for raw power and instinct. To win, he needed precision—target the weak points, stay unpredictable, and think creatively, fast.
The Sableon wasted no time before launching its attack. It advanced with terrifying speed, its claw slicing through the air in a wide arc aimed at Marcus's chest. He barely managed to raise his plated forearm in time; the impact rattled his bones and sent him stumbling back a step. Before he could regain his balance, the beast lunged again, its fangs snapping for his shoulder. Marcus twisted sharply, letting the jaws close on empty air, and pushed himself backward to gain some distance.
But the Sableon didn't relent. It circled him low and fast, eyes gleaming, throwing feints that tested his reflexes—every sudden move forced Marcus to react at once. One claw slashed for his ribs, another skimmed toward his thigh; both times Marcus blocked, desperately channeling ether into his plates to absorb the blows.
The pace of the fight grew increasingly suffocating. The Sableon gave him no respite, launching rapid swipes and charges that forced Marcus to keep retreating. Every block sent pain through his arms and legs, though his plates held thanks to the ether he channeled. Step by step, the monster pushed him back until, without realizing it, Marcus felt the rough bark of a tree pressing against his back.
The Sableon had him cornered. In front of him, the creature snarled, its fangs stained with saliva, muscles tensed, ready to strike again.
Marcus raised his guard instinctively, hardening the plates on his arms with ether as the Sableon seized the opening and lunged at him. Its claws, surprisingly calculated, targeted the exposed areas of his body, striking where the plating offered no protection, giving him no room to breathe, no space to think, pinning him against the tree with sheer ferocity.
Yet in the midst of that pressure, a spark of clarity broke through. He recalled Lara's words: the best defense is offense. The phrase struck deep, and an astute smile spread across his face, defiant even as the beast bore down on him.
Marcus continued blocking and dodging, his movements sharp and deliberate. When he saw the Sableon winding up for a wide, sweeping strike, he dropped low, rolling beneath the beast with controlled precision. As he came out of the roll, he spun to face it, ready to exploit the opening.
Marcus shifted his focus, moving from pure defense to active engagement. He launched a kick aimed at the Sableon's face, but the creature crouched and slipped underneath, dodging the strike with agility. Without missing a beat, the Sableon swung a wide claw attack; Marcus ducked, and the claw barely grazed the plate on his face, leaving a superficial mark. He quickly countered with a short elbow strike to the beast's side, keeping the pace of the fight going.