Dominic woke with the taste of blood in his mouth.
Not fresh. Old. Metallic. It clung to his tongue as he swallowed slowly and forced himself to breathe through the pain tightening his chest. The courtyard lay quiet around him, but it was the wrong kind of quiet. Not rest. Not peace.
After selection.
People moved differently after Iron Fang came. They avoided empty spaces. They spoke in low voices. They stopped asking questions that had no answers.
Lysa sat nearby, staring at the ground. She had not slept much either. Dominic could see it in the way her shoulders stayed tense, as if bracing for hands that might grab her again.
"We cannot stay," she said without looking at him.
"Yes," Dominic replied.
"Then why are we still here."
"Because leaving without a direction is how people disappear."
She closed her eyes briefly. "Then give me a direction."
Dominic stood slowly and scanned the courtyard. Harn was not present. Neither were several others who had been there yesterday.
Survivors drifted toward corners, clusters breaking apart instead of forming.
This place would not last.
"Follow me," Dominic said.
They slipped out before full morning activity began, blending into the narrow streets while the slums still woke. Dominic moved with intent now, no longer wandering.
He was looking for something specific.
Iron Fang had made one thing clear. Waiting was a losing strategy. He needed leverage. Something that changed the rules.
Not power.
Potential.
They reached the edge of the city near a collapsed outer structure. Stone lay broken and half-buried beneath ash and weeds. Fewer people passed here. Fewer eyes.
Dominic slowed.
"Here," he said.
Lysa frowned. "There is nothing."
"That is why."
He climbed carefully over rubble and knelt near a narrow fissure in the ground, barely visible beneath layers of debris. The air here felt different. Thicker. Heavy.
He pressed his palm against the stone.
Faint warmth answered.
The same warmth he had felt beneath the fallen tree in the forest.
A pattern.
Lysa watched him. "What are you doing."
"Listening," Dominic said.
He cleared debris slowly, methodically, ignoring the way his chest protested with every movement. Inch by inch, he widened the fissure until a small cavity was revealed beneath the stone.
Something lay inside.
It was the size of a clenched fist. Rough. Dark. Veined faintly with dull red lines that pulsed slowly, like a heart remembering how to beat.
A monster core.
Dominic recognized it instantly.
Not from memory. From instinct.
This was not fresh. It was cracked along one side, its surface uneven and scarred. A failed core, discarded after a kill that had not gone cleanly.
Too damaged to sell.
Too dangerous to use.
Lysa sucked in a breath. "You cannot touch that."
"Yes," Dominic replied. "I can."
"No," she said sharply. "That will kill you."
"Probably."
He lifted it anyway.
The moment his fingers closed around the core, heat surged through his arm. Not violently. Not explosively.
Hungry.
His vision blurred. Pain flared in his chest, sharper than before. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain still.
Behind his eyes, the system presence surged.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
External energy source detected
Classification: Degraded monster core
Compatibility: Unknown
Risk level: Extreme
Lysa grabbed his wrist. "Drop it."
Dominic did not.
He focused inward instead, on the warmth he had been cultivating. He did not pull. He did not absorb.
He contained.
The core pulsed once. Then again. Then settled.
Dominic exhaled slowly.
The pain eased slightly.
Not gone.
But stable.
Lysa stared at him. "You should be dead."
"Not yet," Dominic said.
He wrapped the core in cloth and secured it tightly before tucking it inside his torn pack. His hands shook slightly, but his breathing remained controlled.
He had not used it.
That mattered.
They moved away immediately, not stopping until the collapsed structure was far behind them.
Lysa finally spoke. "You are insane."
"Yes."
"You are injured. You have no cultivation. And you are carrying that thing like it is a tool."
Dominic looked at her. "It is a tool."
"For later."
She shook her head. "People kill for those."
"Yes."
"Then why hide it."
"Because power you cannot control is bait," Dominic said. "And I am not ready to be hunted."
She was silent for a long moment.
"You are planning something," she said.
"Yes."
"What."
Dominic did not answer immediately. He watched the street ahead, memorizing paths, exits, blind corners.
"Survival," he said finally. "With interest."
They found temporary shelter beneath an abandoned stairwell and rested briefly. Dominic kept one hand near the pack at all times, aware of the weight now riding against his spine.
The core did not call to him.
It waited.
Behind his eyes, the system presence returned, quieter than before.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
High risk asset secured
Subject restraint observed
Evaluation note: Deferred utilization increases survival variance
Deferred.
Not denied.
Dominic leaned back against the cold stone and closed his eyes.
Iron Fang believed power was something you seized and broke into submission.
They were wrong.
Power was something you prepared for.
And when he finally used that core, it would not be out of desperation.
It would be on his terms.