Chapter: Reborn
Growing up, I was never a fighter. I had
the will—the rage even—but my body betrayed me every time. No matter how hard I
tried, I was always a step behind. Always weaker.
Now, standing in front of her, I knew the old me wouldn't survive.
Anna's strikes were blurs—shadows given form. I dodged one, barely, but the
next three landed square in my ribs. Pain shot through my chest. I stumbled,
catching myself on a table. My eyes darted to the glint of a knife.
Desperation surged. I lunged.
She stepped aside with the grace of a phantom.
"Pathetic," she muttered. "You'll never match us with fear
gripping your spine like that."
Breath ragged, I straightened, knife trembling in my grip. "Please...
teach me. I don't want to just survive anymore. I want to fight."
Anna's expression shifted. Curiosity, maybe. Or pity.
"Fine," she said. "Do you remember what Grim did earlier?"
"You mean… the eye? In his palm?"
She nodded. "That wasn't just a trick. He gave you something—a fragment of
his essence. We call it Inn. A living force inside you now. It responds to
will, to instinct. But it only awakens when you push beyond your limits."
As she spoke, my mind raced. I could still feel it—faint, like an itch beneath
the skin.
She moved again, fists raised. "Let's wake it up."
I braced myself. The blows came faster this time, more ruthless. My arms
screamed with each block, and every miss punished me with a body-rattling
impact.
"You're too focused on the pain," she said. "Inn doesn't live in
comfort. It thrives in chaos."
I roared and swung wildly—nothing landed.
She vanished around my defenses, slamming me to the floor.
My body screamed in protest. But in that moment, I stopped thinking.
I *felt*.
The space around me slowed. Her movements—the arc of her kick, the twist of her
foot—became clear. I raised my arm just in time to block.
My palm buzzed. A heat surged up my arm.
Anna pulled back, surprised.
"You're starting to sync with it," she said. "That's the first
stage—Instinct. You see before you understand."
"That… took you how long?" I managed between gasps.
"Thirty days. You? Two hours." She offered a smirk. "Not
bad."
Pride flickered in my chest, but I buried it.
"What's next?"
Her face turned serious. "Mind control. The second stage. You must learn
to command your Inn—or it will consume you. You think power is hard to earn?
It's nothing compared to holding onto it."
We returned to the surface. Grim was waiting, arms crossed, staring out into
the snowy dark.
"He's alive," he said without turning. "That's a surprise."
"He's not just alive," Anna replied. "He's ready."
Grim turned, studying me with one dark eye. "We leave at dawn. The infiltration
begins then."
"Infiltration?" I asked.
"You'll go behind enemy lines," Anna said. "Learn. Adapt. And if
you survive—strike."
My stomach twisted—not with fear, but anticipation.
"And if I fail?"
"Then die quickly," Grim said. "We don't mourn the
unworthy."
I nodded.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The moon watched me through the frost-lined
window, silver and silent.
Anna's voice broke the silence. "Awake?"
"Hard not to be."
She stepped into the room, arms folded. "Inn is alive now. You'll never
sleep the same again."
"How long have you had it?"
"Since thirteen." A shadow passed over her face. "I killed two
men the night mine woke up. I couldn't control it."
"Do you now?" I asked.
She hesitated. "I've made peace with it."
I nodded. "Then I'll do the same."
She smirked. "Good. Because tomorrow, the war begins."
I stared back at the ceiling after she left.
Tomorrow, I stop being a survivor.
Tomorrow, I become something more.
Or I die trying.