The River's Whisper
The forest thinned as the survivors moved, the air thick with the smell of moss and wet soil. The sound of rushing water reached them first—soft, distant, but growing clearer with every step. A river.
Kaen walked in front, weapon steady at his side, his shoulders stiff. He wasn't speaking much, but his silence wasn't emptiness. It was the silence of someone whose body felt the storm before the sky broke. His eyes scanned every shadow, every branch twitching in the wind.
The fog had thinned here, replaced by drifting sprays of mist as the river came into view. Its surface glimmered faintly under shafts of sunlight, but the water ran fast and restless, carrying white foam and broken branches downstream.
"Finally… fresh water," Fin muttered, his lips cracked from thirst. His knees nearly buckled as he stumbled toward the bank.
Riku's hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder. His tone was firm but calm.
"Not yet. Look."
Fin froze. The surface of the water rippled strangely—not just from the current. Something had disturbed it upstream. Kaen's hand tightened around his weapon.
Lyra's sharp gaze darted around the trees. "Tracks," she whispered, pointing at the muddy ground near the bank. Heavy boots. Too heavy for any trainee.
Daren cursed under his breath, his broad arms flexing as if preparing for a fight. "So they're here first."
Kaen didn't reply. But his instincts—the same ones that had kept him alive this long—screamed it clearly. A predator was near.
The group slowed, breathing shallow. The river whispered on, masking footsteps. And yet, Kaen's skin prickled with every passing second.
Then—
A twig snapped.
The sound was sharp, deliberate, cutting through the rush of water. Fin flinched, his breath hitching.
And from the mist on the far side of the river, a silhouette stepped forward.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Mask glinting like polished bone.
A Special Squad warrior.
---
The First Clash
The warrior didn't rush them. He stood there, silent, as though testing their resolve. The mist clung to his frame, his mask hiding any trace of humanity.
Riku was the first to whisper. "Formation. Don't scatter. The current will trap us if we fall in."
Kaen shifted his stance, feet firm against the mud. His voice was low, steady.
"Stay behind me."
Lyra stepped up to his side, blades drawn, her breathing controlled. Daren rolled his shoulders, gripping his crude weapon like it weighed nothing. Fin lingered at the back, trembling, his eyes wide.
The warrior moved first.
A blur of steel slashed across the air, the sound splitting the silence. Kaen barely caught the strike, sparks flying as his weapon met the squad's blade. The impact sent a shock up his arm, nearly knocking him off balance.
Kaen's jaw tightened. Fast. Stronger than before.
The warrior pressed forward, blow after blow raining down. Each strike wasn't wild—it was precise, meant to break stances, to create openings. Kaen blocked one, two, three, but on the fourth, he staggered, his boots sinking in the mud.
"Kaen!" Lyra darted in, her blade flashing, forcing the warrior to angle his attack differently. She moved like water—quick, cutting, her strikes sharp but controlled. Yet each time, the warrior countered effortlessly, as though reading her.
Riku's voice cut through the chaos. "Don't fight his rhythm! Break it!"
Daren roared, charging from the side. His raw strength slammed against the warrior's guard, shaking the air with the clash. For a brief moment, the squad was pushed back, his boots skidding in the mud.
But the warrior recovered quickly. He twisted, using Daren's momentum against him, sending the brute stumbling toward the river's edge.
Kaen lunged, catching Daren's arm just before he lost footing. His muscles burned, but he held firm.
"Stay grounded!" Kaen barked.
The warrior's mask tilted slightly, as though amused. Then he shifted his stance. The pressure rose like a storm tightening around them.
Fin's breath came shallow and fast. His back hit a tree, his hands clutching his weapon so hard his knuckles whitened. I… I can't…
But the fight didn't wait for his fear.
The warrior surged again. This time Kaen met him head-on, blade locking with blade. Their weapons screamed, mud splashing as Kaen forced himself not to give ground. His teeth grit, his instincts screaming to move, to survive.
And beneath it all, something stirred inside him. That same primal force he had felt before—whispers of something deeper, older, clawing at the edges of his will.
But he shoved it down. Not yet.
---
The Turning Point
The clash stretched into eternity. Each second felt heavier, the roar of the river mixing with the clash of steel and the ragged breaths of the survivors.
Lyra darted in again, her strikes aimed at the squad's knees and wrists—points to destabilize. For a flicker of a moment, it worked. The warrior staggered.
"Now!" Riku called.
Daren surged forward with a bellow, both hands gripping his weapon. He swung with raw, reckless strength. The impact was like thunder, forcing the warrior back a step, boots grinding deep into the mud.
The trainees' hearts lifted—until the warrior twisted his blade, knocking Daren's weapon aside. The brute stumbled, chest exposed.
The squad's blade rose.
"Daren!!"
Kaen launched himself forward, shoulder slamming into the warrior with all his weight. They crashed into the riverbank, water spraying high into the air. Kaen's vision blurred, but his grip on his weapon didn't falter.
The warrior rose again, relentless. He slashed—this time toward Lyra. She leapt back, but too late. The arc of steel was coming for her—
And then—
Fin moved.
His body moved before his fear could stop him. He dove forward, shoving Lyra aside. The blade slashed across his arm, blood spraying.
Fin screamed, collapsing to the ground. But Lyra was safe.
The warrior tilted his head, as though acknowledging the sacrifice.
Lyra's eyes widened, her chest heaving. She looked at Fin—terrified, trembling, clutching his bleeding arm—and something inside her cracked.
"Fin…" her voice shook, but then hardened. "You're not dying here. Not like this."
She stood in front of him, blades raised, fury burning in her eyes.
Kaen's chest heaved as he dragged himself out of the mud. His gaze locked with the warrior's mask, unyielding.
"We're not prey," he said, voice low, fierce. "Not anymore."
The fight wasn't over. But for the first time—it wasn't just survival.
It was defiance.
The river roared around them, the mist glowing silver in the waning light. And as Fin's blood dripped into the water, staining it red, the battlefield felt alive with something new.
The warrior adjusted his stance. The trainees did the same.
The clash was far from finished.