Nyata's eyes fluttered open. The cave ceiling came into view, dark and uneven, lit by a faint green glow that pulsed from the strange machinery surrounding him. His head pounded, and his throat felt dry as sand.
"Ugh… my head… where am I?" he muttered weakly.
"Finally awake," said a voice, sharp and unimpressed. "You were out long enough to make me think humans hibernate."
He turned his head. The girl from before sat a few feet away on a rock, arms crossed, one leg swinging lazily. Her damp hair stuck to her cheeks, and her golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
"Welcome back," she said. "I am Aberrane."
The sound of that name barely registered before Nyata's memory crashed back. His eyes widened in panic, and his heart pounded in his chest. "Where is the master?" he gasped, pushing himself upright so fast it made his vision blur. "Where is he?"
Aberrane raised an eyebrow. "Gone, obviously. You'd have noticed if he was sitting around bleeding all over my cave."
Nyata's expression twisted into rage. His fists clenched so tight they trembled. "I'm going to kill that man."
Aberrane sighed and stretched her arms behind her head, looking completely unbothered. "Oh good, another dramatic vow. Haven't heard one of those in the last five minutes."
Nyata shot her a glare, but she ignored it.
"Now that you're conscious again," she said, "I'm going to ask you something important."
"What is it?" Nyata snapped.
"What is your one request? You get one. Just one." Her tone turned teasing, but her eyes glittered with impatience. "Consider it a thank-you gift for freeing me."
"I don't have one," Nyata said flatly.
Aberrane groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Oh, please. It's not that hard. Wealth? I could make you a king overnight. Lust? You're not exactly my type, but I could work with it. Wrath? I could melt your enemies where they stand."
"I don't want your help."
"Well, too bad," she shot back. "Until you make that request I'm bound to you."
"I don't care. Let's go."
He stood up and started walking toward the light at the end of the tunnel. Aberrane blinked, then realized she was being dragged along by an invisible force.
"Oh, for the love of really?" she groaned as her body jerked forward, following him against her will. "This is ridiculous. I get chained to a clueless mortal with no ambition."
"Just shut up and walk," Nyata said.
"Just make your wish!" Aberrane yelled, tugging against the invisible tether.
He ignored her.
That was it. She scowled, stomped forward, and kicked him square in the back.
"What the hell was that for!" Nyata shouted, spinning around and rubbing the spot.
"You're insufferable! I ask for one thing, one, and you can't even do that! Anything you want, and you refuse me!"
"I told you, I don't have a wish!" he shouted back.
"Well, you should!" she yelled, crossing her arms with a sharp huff. "It's like being stuck babysitting a rock!"
They glared at each other for a moment before turning away in mutual frustration.
By the time they reached the mouth of the cave, the light of the setting sun revealed the world outside. Trees were split in half. The ground was scorched black. Smoke still drifted lazily through the air, carrying the faint stench of burnt wood and ash.
Aberrane's eyes widened. For the first time, her voice softened. "Who… who did this?"
"The one who killed my master," Nyata said, his voice low, every word soaked in fury. "I swear I'll kill him."
Aberrane watched him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "Why don't you just ask me to kill him for you?"
"Don't even suggest that," Nyata said through his teeth. "I'll kill him myself. With my own power."
Aberrane rolled her eyes. "Sure. Because that's been working out great so far."
She followed him silently after that, though the occasional mutter of annoyance escaped her lips.
When they finally reached what was left of the small house, Nyata wasted no time. He gathered what little he could, food, tools, a waterskin, and a worn strip of cloth with his master's scent still clinging to it.
Then he changed.
The red Shaolin-style uniform clung to his frame, its deep scarlet color muted by ash and dirt. The black sleeves fit tightly around his arms, embroidered with faint red lines like streaks of fire. The right shoulder was protected by a single piece of aged leather armor, scratched and darkened from long use.
He tied the tunic with a cord of braided hemp, then pulled on loose black trousers tucked neatly into his boots. The boots were black and rubber-soled, soft enough for stealth but reinforced for travel. On his forearms, he strapped bamboo guards wrapped in thin layers of worn leather, the edges smoothed by years of practice. A small red cloth was tied around his left wrist, the only trace of sentimentality he allowed himself.
When he finally looked at his reflection in a shattered mirror, the boy staring back no longer looked fragile. His face was harder now, older, and his eyes burned with determination.
Aberrane leaned against the broken doorway, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.
"So we're just marching into revenge now? Great plan. Very original."
Nyata tightened the strap on his armor and turned to her. "I'm going after him."
She sighed, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. "You're lucky I'm stuck with you. You'd be dead in a day without me."
"Then stay close," he said coldly. "But stay out of my way."
Aberrane smirked. "We'll see about that."
As the sun sank below the trees, the two of them walked away from the ruins, the irritated mortal and the stubborn boy bound by rage. The forest swallowed their silhouettes as the night began to rise around them.