The city beyond the chamber was waking to an ordinary dawn, unaware of the storm gathering just beyond perception.
Aerich had no such luxury.
The spiral throbbed beneath his skin as he stepped into the courtyard, the morning mist clinging to the edges of the Watchers' training grounds. His chest burned faintly—hunger tempered but never gone—and he knew the whispers from the shadows would return if he faltered.
Sereth waited by the far edge, arms folded, her gaze sharp. "Today," she said, voice steady, "we leave the confines of safety. The real world tests what we've trained in here."
Aerich's stomach knotted. He had survived shadows, illusions, and whispers of betrayal—but the thought of stepping into the city, where the Veil's remnants and human ignorance intertwined, made the spiral pulse hotter.
"Who am I going to face?" he asked.
"Not who," Sereth corrected. "What."
A chill ran down his spine.
The first encounter was immediate.
No warning, no prelude—just a sudden tearing of the air nearby as a figure materialized in the alley beyond the training grounds. A humanoid shape, but elongated, jagged, eyes glowing faintly in the mist. Aerich's spiral reacted instantly, surging with recognition: a Veil-touched predator.
He moved before thinking.
Energy lanced from his chest, warping the mist around him as he sent the first strike. The creature twisted in impossible ways, dodging, mocking his attempts, and the hunger inside him roared. It wanted the fight. It wanted the prey.
"Control it!" Sereth shouted. "Do not let it dictate the battle!"
Aerich forced himself to focus. He inhaled deeply, letting his instincts guide the strike—not his fear, not his desire to feed, but sheer precision. The creature recoiled, its movement slowing as his power pressed against it.
But then, an unexpected sound: a voice, calm, measured, almost human.
"Step away from it, Aerich."
He froze. A second figure emerged, cloaked in black, face hidden. But Aerich recognized the presence immediately: one of the Watchers. One of his supposed allies.
"You're not supposed to—" Aerich began.
"Step back," the figure interrupted, voice flat. "Do not harm it. We have orders."
Aerich's blood ran cold. Orders from them? After everything, after what he had endured, he couldn't believe it.
"Orders from who?" he demanded.
The figure didn't answer. Instead, a surge of energy pulsed from the predator, and Aerich's spiral flared violently in response. The hunger demanded action, whispered deceitfully: They can't stop you. Feed. Destroy.
He clenched his fists, shaking. "No. Not their way. My way."
And then the betrayal struck—another figure appeared, moving with uncanny precision, forcing Aerich to split his focus. He felt his power react to both threats at once, draining him, tugging at the edges of control.
Sereth's voice cut sharply through the chaos. "Aerich! Decide who to trust! Decide who you are!"
The city echoed with destruction, walls trembling as energy clashed. Aerich pressed all his focus inward, summoning the calm within—the small fragment of clarity he had nurtured after surviving the shadows yesterday.
He struck decisively, targeting the Veil predator first. The energy tore through it, disintegrating it with a shriek that rattled bones. But the second figure—his supposed ally—did not intervene. It stepped back, letting him witness the aftermath, testing him silently.
"You see now," Sereth said, appearing beside him, voice urgent. "Even those you trust are pieces of the trial. Your allegiance is fractured, and that is reality. Trust must be earned, not assumed."
Aerich's chest heaved. The spiral burned, veins of black threading outward, energy lashing at the ground. "Why would they—why would anyone betray me like this?"
"Because power draws deception like blood draws flies," Sereth replied. "And you carry the most dangerous kind of power. Everyone wants a piece—some to protect you, some to control you, some to eliminate you."
Aerich staggered backward, exhaustion and fury warring inside him. "Then I can't… I can't rely on anyone!"
"Exactly," Sereth said. "Only on yourself."
His mother appeared suddenly, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "You are stronger than you know," she said softly. "But strength isn't just about power—it's about knowing when to fight, and when to step back."
Aerich exhaled shakily. "So… what do I do?"
"Decide," Sereth said firmly. "Trust yourself before you trust anyone else. Act before they force your hand. And remember: fractured allegiances are the world's rule, not the exception."
The next challenge arrived almost immediately.
A group of Veil-corrupted humans appeared at the end of the alley, armed, coordinated, and desperate. Their energy rippled with malice, responding to Aerich's presence like moths to flame. The hunger surged uncontrollably, whispering temptation to feed on them, to consume, to dominate.
He froze. One look at his mother and Sereth reminded him of the stakes.
The first strike was instinctive, precise, controlled. Energy shot outward from his spiral, warping the alleyway as he disarmed and incapacitated several attackers without killing. Others pressed forward, relentless, but Aerich learned to guide the hunger—to bend it, to channel it, without succumbing to the desire to destroy entirely.
It was exhausting. Every move drained him mentally and physically. Every victory was tinged with fear, doubt, and the knowledge that one misstep could lead to disaster.
By the time the last of the attackers fled or collapsed, Aerich was trembling, sweat running down his face. The spiral pulsed faintly, quiet now, satisfied with the restraint he had shown.
Sereth approached, her expression unreadable. "You survived," she said simply.
Aerich shook his head. "Barely… and I don't know who's really on my side anymore."
"You don't need to," she said. "Alliances will fracture, loyalties will shift. The world outside does not care who is right. It only reacts to power. You are learning that now, and that knowledge will be your weapon."
He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the hum of energy beneath his skin. Exhaustion, hunger, and rage battled inside him—but there was a sliver of understanding as well.
He realized that fractured allegiances weren't a betrayal—they were the truth. A lesson carved in fire, blood, and the unyielding pull of power.
And Aerich, for the first time, felt ready to face whatever the world threw at him next—because he had begun to trust the only thing he could: himself.