The frozen river stretched endlessly before him, each step heavier than the last. Cold gnawed at his skin, but deeper than that, a primal hunger clawed at his chest—an ancient, insatiable drive that had been asleep for too long.
Up ahead, movement caught his eye. Two hunters huddled near a shattered building, clearing snow for a makeshift fire. Zyair's tails twitched. Shelter was a lure, but something else pulsed beneath his skin, an unbidden instinct coiling tighter with every heartbeat.
Then it struck him—a flash, sharp as a blade.
A woman's voice, breaking:
"Zyair… I love you."
Tears streaked her face as she knelt over a small basket, whispering words he couldn't fully grasp. The warmth of her hands, the scent of her hair, the pain in her eyes—it pierced through the fog of his memory, rattling something deep within.
Pain. Fear. Loss.
His body reacted before his mind could intervene. His tails lashed out, wild and precise. The Hydra Apex Drive had awoken. Bronze rank, but high C magic pool—enough to overpower his conscious control.
The hunters screamed, but their cries were drowned in a rush of raw energy. Zyair's fangs and tails tore through them, consuming flesh and energy. With every devouring pull, his wounds knit, his strength returned, his vitality surged.
When it was over, the snow was melted, the ground scorched, the air heavy with steam and blood. Zyair staggered back, chest heaving, tails coiled protectively around him.
His body felt alive—healed beyond what should have been possible. Yet, the sight of the two lifeless hunters burned in his eyes.
"What… what just happened?" His voice trembled.
He sank to the frozen riverbank, shivering—not from cold, but from the sheer, horrifying intensity of his own power. The Hydra Apex Drive had fed instinctively, violently, beyond morality or thought. Bronze rank. High C magic. Raw, uncontrollable, unstoppable.
The memory of the woman lingered, fading into the distance like smoke. And beneath it all, a gnawing realization: his hunger was a weapon he couldn't yet wield, a monster sleeping inside him that even he might fear.
He rose slowly, hands trembling, tails still humming faintly with absorbed energy. The Academy awaited somewhere down the winding road, a fragile thread of hope he clung to desperately.
But for the first time, Zyair understood the truth of his existence: survival came at a cost, and the monster inside him would not wait for permission.