Lucian didn't sleep again.
He sat on the cold stone floor, back against the iron wall, listening to the faint crackle of distant torches and the rhythmic drip of water from pipes buried overhead. His veins emitted a soft glow, a quiet throb of readiness he hadn't asked for but now relied on to keep himself awake.
Draven Coil's voice still burned in his mind:
_"Tomorrow, you die."_
The words weren't a threat—they were a promise spoken by someone who had killed enough times to know the shape of death and how to deliver it cleanly.
Lucian exhaled slowly.
He'd barely survived Rank 49.
Barely escaped Jarek.
Barely held himself together through the dream of Kaelis.
And now?
Now a stronger enemy waited in the Pits' shadows.
It wasn't fear that kept Lucian awake.
It was anticipation.
And the whisper of a memory he still didn't understand.
When dawn finally broke—if the faint shift in the glow of the runes could be called dawn—footsteps echoed down the corridor. Not hurried. Not aggressive. But steady, paced, controlled.
Lucian looked up.
The Warden unlocked the cell and stepped inside without invitation.
"You look terrible," he said.
Lucian rubbed his eyes. "Didn't sleep."
"Understandable." The Warden leaned against the wall. "Draven Coil visited you."
Lucian stiffened. "You knew he would?"
"I expected it." The Warden sighed. "The Coil brothers don't forgive easily. Sera is the exception."
Lucian frowned. "So he'll challenge me?"
"Yes," the Warden said. "And not in the Arena. The Coils prefer unofficial killing grounds."
Lucian's stomach tightened. "You mean ambush."
"Ambush," the Warden confirmed. "Poison. Cornering. Anything that notches their kill count."
Lucian ran a hand through his hair. "And you're telling me this why? Aren't Marshals supposed to stop internal killing?"
"Marshals stop _public_ violations of Arena rules," the Warden said. "Private matters… resolve themselves."
Of course. The Pits were a self-feeding beast—blood regulating blood.
Lucian stood fully. "What do I do?"
The Warden gave him a long look, then said:
"You evolve."
Lucian blinked. "I barely survived Jarek. I only copied one of his techniques."
"One is enough—if you refine it." The Warden stepped aside. "Come. Your first training session begins now."
Lucian followed him out of the cell.
The corridor was already alive with activity—fighters sparring, guards dragging unconscious men away from brawls, beastmasters herding creatures into reinforced cages.
Some stared as Lucian passed.
Some whispered.
Some grinned like predators sensing a new scent.
But one set of eyes made Lucian falter.
Kaelis stood on the upper walkway, arms folded, watching him with that unreadable calm. Her silver gaze lingered on the faint glow of his veins.
Lucian slowed.
The Warden noticed. "Ignore her."
"I can't."
"You must." The Warden's voice dropped. "Her presence destabilizes your Core."
Lucian frowned. "What does that even mean?"
"Later," the Warden said. "For now, your only focus is staying alive."
Lucian forced his gaze away from Kaelis and followed the Warden into a wide training hall filled with ash-dusted mats and wooden dummies carved to resemble beasts and men alike.
Dozens of fighters trained around them, sparring in pairs or hammering fists into reinforced posts. Some stopped when Lucian entered, studying him with interest.
The Warden gestured toward an empty mat.
"Show me your Chain Footwork."
Lucian positioned himself.
Feet sliding.
Weight shifting.
Hips angled.
He moved into motion—fluid, low, smooth.
The Warden nodded once. "Good. You've integrated Jarek's style faster than expected."
Lucian exhaled. "Feels natural."
"That's the Core," the Warden said. "It adapts instinct into instinct-like familiarity. But it's still only one percent. Weak. Unrefined."
Lucian paused. "Then how do I refine it?"
The Warden stepped around him, analyzing every motion.
"You refine it by combining it with something else."
"Something else?"
"Yes." The Warden gestured. "You stole strength from the Shatterbeast—its feral instinct. Combine that with Jarek's precision, and you begin creating an evolution node."
Lucian swallowed. "How do I combine them?"
The Warden smiled faintly. "You figure it out."
Lucian stared. "That's it? That's your instruction?"
"Yes."
Lucian dragged a hand down his face. "Great."
"Again," the Warden said.
Lucian moved.
Chain Footwork—glide, shift, step, pivot.
Then—
Feral Instinct—drive forward, attack openings, overwhelm.
He stumbled immediately, nearly falling onto the mat.
The Warden sighed. "No. That was terrible. Again."
Lucian tried again.
Chain Footwork—evasion.
Feral Instinct—aggression.
Mix.
Mismatch.
His rhythm crumbled instantly. He lost balance and caught himself on the wall.
The Warden crossed his arms. "Congratulations. You've discovered why hybrids require training."
Lucian wiped sweat from his brow. "This is impossible."
"Nothing is impossible with a Core," the Warden said. "It simply hurts first."
Lucian tried again.
And again.
And again.
Each failure scraped his patience raw.
Footwork.
Instinct.
Balance.
Aggression.
He couldn't make them fuse.
Feral Instinct pushed him forward—
Chain Footwork pulled him sideways—
He fell again.
"Again," the Warden said.
Lucian groaned. "I'm going to break something."
"You will," the Warden said. "Hopefully not your neck."
Lucian glared. "Your teaching style is terrible."
"Yes," the Warden said. "And effective."
Lucian tried again.
This time, something changed.
Not in his movements—
but in his Core.
A faint pulse.
A quiet surge.
A moment of clarity where both instincts aligned—
Chain timing.
Feral aggression.
Lucian stepped forward.
Not stumbling.
Not falling.
Attacking.
He struck the dummy in a single, fluid motion—sliding left, driving his fist forward with feral force.
The wood cracked.
Lucian froze.
The Warden raised an eyebrow. "There. You felt it."
Lucian exhaled shakily. "Once. For a moment."
"And you will feel it again," the Warden said. "If you survive what's coming."
Lucian wiped his hands on his shirt. "Draven?"
"Worse," the Warden said.
Lucian stiffened. "Worse than the man trying to kill me?"
"Yes." The Warden pointed.
Lucian turned.
A tall figure stepped into the training hall's entrance, arms crossed.
Kaelis.
Her silver eyes didn't move away from him.
Lucian felt the Core stutter—
pulse harder—
glow brighter—
Unstable.
The Warden muttered, "Of course."
Kaelis spoke.
"Lucian Raine. You move like someone who doesn't want to win."
Lucian's reply died in his throat.
She walked toward him, each step precise.
"You hesitate," she said. "Not in the Arena—but in your mind. That is why you will die."
Lucian swallowed hard. "I'm trying to survive."
"Survival is not climbing," Kaelis said. "Evolution is not survival."
Lucian clenched his fists. "Then teach me."
Kaelis stopped in front of him.
For a moment, her expression softened—
just a fraction—
as if seeing a ghost inside him.
"I can't," she whispered. "Not without breaking you again."
Lucian's breath caught. "What does that mean?"
Kaelis stepped back.
And then she said the last thing he expected:
"Your next opponent isn't Draven."
Lucian blinked. "Then who?"
Kaelis looked at the Warden.
The Warden nodded.
Kaelis turned to Lucian, eyes sharp as blades.
"Tonight," she said, "you fight me."
Lucian felt the world collapse inward.
"What—?" He staggered back. "I don't… I can't fight you."
Kaelis' gaze hardened. "If you cannot fight me, you cannot survive anyone."
Lucian shook his head. "You'll kill me."
"No," she said softly. "I will test you."
Lucian felt cold rush up his spine. "Why?"
"Because Draven Coil is not your real enemy," Kaelis said.
"Then who is?"
Kaelis stepped close enough that her breath brushed his cheek.
"You," she whispered.
"And the Core inside you."
Lucian's veins flared—
wild, bright, unstable—
The Warden sighed. "Your presence is destabilizing him."
Kaelis' voice didn't soften.
"Good."
Lucian stared, breath trembling.
Kaelis turned and began to walk away.
"Tonight," she said, without looking back, "bring everything you have."
Lucian reached out instinctively. "Kaelis—wait—"
She paused.
But didn't turn.
Lucian's words cracked out of him:
"What were we to each other before?"
Silence.
The training hall went still.
Kaelis lifted her chin.
"You were someone I could not save."
And she left without another word.
Lucian stood frozen, heart pounding, veins glowing, the Core pulsing like a storm preparing to break.
Tonight…
he would fight the one person whose shadow already lived inside him.
Lucian stood in the middle of the training hall long after Kaelis left, surrounded by fighters who pretended not to watch him while watching every breath he took.
He felt split down the center.
One half of him—cold, rational—told him Kaelis was setting him up for humiliation or hardening. Perhaps both. That it was part of the Arena's brutal system, a means of tempering reincarnators before they rose too fast.
But the other half—the half trembling with memories he didn't yet own—felt something else.
Fear.
Recognition.
A terrible aching familiarity.
_"You were someone I could not save."_
Her words looped in his skull like an echo in a cavern.
The Warden finally broke the silence.
"Don't freeze. Not now."
Lucian blinked and forced himself back to the present. "She wants to fight me tonight."
"She will," the Warden said. "There is no avoiding it."
Lucian paced, breath uneven. "She doesn't fight at Rank 49. She's above this level."
"She fights when she chooses," the Warden said. "And she chose you."
"That's what scares me," Lucian muttered.
The Warden stepped closer. "Lucian… Kaelis does nothing without reason. And she rarely reveals what that reason is."
Lucian rubbed his face. "She knows me. Or knew me. I'm sure of it."
"Yes," the Warden said. "And that is exactly why you should be careful."
Lucian exhaled through his teeth. "She said she killed me in my last life."
The Warden didn't blink. "Did she?"
"Yes. Maybe. I don't know." Lucian raked his hand through his hair. "I keep seeing her in fragments—on a battlefield, holding a blade, crying."
The Warden placed a hand on his shoulder. "Memory drift is a dangerous thing. If you force the fragments, the Core will destabilize you."
"What happens if it destabilizes?" Lucian asked.
The Warden didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "You lose yourself. Mind first. Body second."
Lucian stiffened. "Meaning?"
"You burn from the inside," the Warden said.
Lucian's veins flickered—erratic, unstable.
He forced them to dim.
The Warden stepped back. "Focus. You have one goal today."
Lucian nodded. "Train."
"No." The Warden's expression sharpened. "Evolve."
Lucian's pulse kicked.
"Evolving requires two things," the Warden continued. "Instinct and purpose. You have the first. You lack the second."
Lucian frowned. "I lack purpose?"
"Yes," the Warden said. "Your core is shaped by your will. And your will is fractured. A divided mind cannot unify its evolution."
"That's not helpful," Lucian muttered.
The Warden's brow lifted. "It is essential. Before tonight's fight, you must decide what fuels you."
Lucian spread his hands helplessly. "What choice do I have? I want to live."
"Survival is a weak purpose," the Warden said. "It will not unlock your next node."
Lucian stared. "Then what will?"
"That," the Warden said, "is what you must discover today."
Before Lucian could reply, a sharp whistle cut across the hall. Fighters parted as Sera Thorn approached, sweat dampening the collar of her training wrap.
She stopped beside Lucian, eyes narrowed slightly.
"You look ready to collapse."
Lucian forced a breath. "I'm fine."
"You're shaking," she said.
"No, I'm—"
"Shaking," she repeated flatly.
Lucian looked down at his hands.
He was.
Sera's expression softened—not with pity, but with understanding. "You're facing Kaelis. Fear is natural."
Lucian bristled. "I'm not afraid of her."
Sera's eyebrows rose. "You should be."
Lucian didn't have energy to argue.
Sera crossed her arms. "Listen. Kaelis doesn't kill fighters in these tests. But she breaks them. Mind, body, spirit. She doesn't test strength. She tests everything."
Lucian swallowed.
"So how do I prepare?"
Sera shook her head. "You don't. You survive."
Lucian sighed. "That's all?"
"No," she said. "One more thing."
She pointed at Lucian's faintly glowing veins.
"Control that."
Lucian frowned. "I'm trying."
"Try harder." Sera stepped close enough for him to see the scars along her cheek. "The Core is powerful, but if Kaelis pushes you too far, it will react. Instinctively. Violently."
Lucian felt his heartbeat stutter. "You've seen it before?"
Sera hesitated. "Yes."
"With me?" Lucian asked quietly.
"No," Sera said. "With someone else."
Lucian felt the Core pulse, hungry for clarity.
"Who?"
Sera didn't answer.
Her silence was answer enough.
Another reincarnator.
Another core.
Another tragedy.
And Kaelis had been involved.
Lucian's voice dropped. "Did she test him?"
Sera nodded.
Lucian swallowed. "Did he survive?"
Sera looked away.
Lucian felt cold rush into his bones.
The Warden stepped forward. "Enough. Lucian doesn't need more shadows today."
Sera exhaled slowly. "He needs truth."
The Warden's eyes hardened. "Truth is as lethal as any blade. Let him take it in pieces."
Lucian forced himself to breathe.
Sera stepped back. "If Draven approaches before tonight, find me. I won't let him kill you yet."
Lucian blinked. "Yet?"
Sera shrugged. "If you survive Kaelis, you'll gain enemies faster than allies. Enjoy my protection while it lasts."
She walked away, leaving Lucian standing between a Warden who believed in pressure and a Core he barely understood.
Lucian rubbed his temples. "This day keeps getting better."
The Warden clapped once. "Now you train."
Lucian stared at him. "Again?"
"Until you stop looking like someone waiting for death."
Lucian mumbled something under his breath and stepped onto the training mat once more.
Training wasn't kind.
The Warden didn't offer praise.
Didn't offer mercy.
Didn't offer explanations.
He only instructed, corrected, and pushed Lucian harder than before.
"Chain Footwork again."
Lucian moved—glide, pivot, shift—
"Faster."
Lucian pushed himself—veins glowing faintly—
"Stop hesitating."
Lucian struck the wooden dummy—his fist cracking its surface—
"Too sloppy. Again."
Sweat poured down Lucian's face. His lungs burned. His muscles screamed.
The Warden didn't slow.
"You have two instincts fighting inside you," he said. "Chain precision and feral aggression. Unify them."
Lucian gritted his teeth. "I'm trying."
"Trying isn't enough."
Lucian pivoted, sliding into Chain Footwork—
but the moment he attempted to layer Feral Instinct into the movement—
he stumbled again, nearly falling face-first into the mat.
"Focus!" the Warden barked.
Lucian snapped, "I can't focus while thinking of survival!"
The Warden stepped close, eyes blazing.
"Then stop thinking!" he yelled. "Let the Core think for you!"
Lucian froze.
The Warden rarely raised his voice.
He didn't do it out of anger.
He did it to cut through Lucian's spiraling mind.
Lucian inhaled.
Exhaled.
Closed his eyes.
He let the Core speak in its silent way—through pulses and flicker-instincts.
Chain timing.
Feral push.
Merged momentum.
Lucian stepped forward.
And for one beautiful, effortless second—
his body moved perfectly.
Smooth.
Savage.
Balanced.
His fist connected with the dummy.
The entire torso snapped off its base and landed three meters away.
The hall fell silent.
Lucian gasped, staring at his hand. "What… what was that?"
The Warden nodded slowly.
"Your first moment of unity," he said. "Remember how it felt."
Lucian swallowed. "I didn't feel anything. It just… happened."
"That is evolution," the Warden said. "You don't force it. You allow it."
Lucian's chest tightened. "I don't know if I can do that in a fight. Especially against Kaelis."
The Warden's expression softened—barely. "You won't have a choice."
Lucian pressed a hand to his chest.
The Core pulsed in agreement—
ready
hungry
waiting.
The Warden stepped back. "Rest. You will need strength tonight."
Lucian sat on the mat, breath shallow.
But rest never came.
Because the shadows shifted again—
and someone else approached:
Draven Coil.
Chains rattling.
Eyes burning.
Smile sharp as broken steel.
"So," Draven said casually, "training for our little reunion?"
Lucian froze.
The Warden placed himself between them, expression flat. "Leave."
Draven smirked. "Relax, Warden. I'm only here to watch. And to tell him something."
Lucian rose slowly.
Draven leaned forward, grin widening.
"Your fight with Kaelis?" he said. "It doesn't matter."
Lucian frowned. "Why?"
Draven's eyes gleamed with cruel delight.
"Because I'll be waiting outside the Arena when it ends."
Lucian's veins flared—
fear and determination intertwined.
Draven whispered:
"Tonight, reincarnator…
you face a Marshal."
He stepped closer.
"Tomorrow…
you face me."