After Jason had fully recovered thanks to the nurse, he and Luke left the infirmary together.
For a moment, neither spoke.
"…Hey," Jason said finally, rubbing the back of his neck. "About earlier."
Luke glanced at him. "You rushed me."
Jason let out a short laugh. "Yeah. And you nearly erased me from existence."
Luke smiled "You're still alive."
"That's one way to put it." Jason hesitated, then extended his hand. "No hard feelings?"
Luke looked at the hand for a second before shaking it. "No hard feelings."
Just like that, the tension between them eased.They hadn't been gone long—only the second period had passed. Still, when Luke and Jason entered the classroom together, conversations died down. Strange stares followed them as they took their seats.
Whispers spread.
The darkness user.
The ice prodigy.
The fight.
Jason leaned closer and muttered, "Guess we're popular now."
Luke ignored him. That's when he noticed her, Annabeth.
She was sitting a few rows away. Luke could tell she was glancing at him now and then, quick looks, immediately looking away when their eyes nearly met. Strange girl, Luke thought. For a brief moment, an absurd idea crossed his mind.
Does she… like me?
Before he could think further, the door slid open. The room fell silent. A man stepped inside wearing an all-black suit. His red hair was neatly combed, and his eyes were sharp, calculating. The moment he entered, Luke felt it, pressure. This man was strong. Stronger than Luke was right now.
If I fought him, Luke thought, I'd die.
"Good morning," the man said. "My name is Mr. Han. I'll be your combat training instructor."
His gaze swept across the class, lingering just a little too long on certain students—including Luke.
"Today," Mr. Han continued, "we'll head to the practice arena. You'll receive hand-to-hand combat training. No weapons. No abilities."
Groans filled the room. At the arena, the class was split into two groups. Jason was assigned elsewhere. Luke ended up in the same group as Annabeth.
Mr. Han clasped his hands. "I'll demonstrate a few techniques. I need a volunteer."
No one moved.
Mr. Han smiled thinly and pointed. "You. Annabeth. Come here."
Annabeth stiffened but obeyed, stepping into the center. Mr. Han took her wrist and began demonstrating grapples and counters, his movements fast—too fast. To most of the class, it looked normal.
Luke saw it.
The twist of the joint. The extra pressure. Then a snap. Annabeth tried to hide the pain, but it was no use.
He did that on purpose.
Luke felt… nothing at first.
He'd seen this countless times across centuries. Abuse disguised as training. Power disguised as authority. Normally, he would have looked away. But then he saw it, the smile.
Small. Disgusting. Satisfied.
Something stirred inside Luke's chest, anger. Cold. Heavy. Familiar.
He turned slightly, already planning to leave. There was nothing he could do—not yet.
Then—A sound echoed in his mind and he looked up.
[Mandatory Quest Issued]
[Target: Kill Teacher Mr. Han]
[Time Limit: 18 Hours]
[Penalty:
• Every hour: HP −5
• Failure upon time expiration: Death]
Luke didn't mind dying. His expression didn't change—but inside, something snapped. Maybe it was the host's body telling him to get revenge. The boy had gone through similar events, which eventually led to his death.
Across the arena, Mr. Han released Annabeth's wrist and stepped back, still smiling. Luke's eyes darkened.
He had decided
Eighteen hours was plenty of time. Annabeth rubbed her wrist slowly, pretending nothing was wrong. The ache lingered beneath her skin, sharp and deliberate. She didn't look at Mr. Han again. She didn't want to.
What unsettled her wasn't just the pain but also Luke. She felt it the moment Mr. Han stepped away. The air changed, not around the instructor but Luke, it frightened her.
"Go to the infirmary, you weakling," Mr Han ordered in an arrogant voice as the students backed up in fear.
She quietly started walking away, trying to look strong. Then she glanced at Luke from the corner of her eye.
His gaze wasn't on her anymore. Her chest tightened.
Something's wrong.
Annabeth had grown up around awakened people. She knew what rage looked like. She knew fear. She knew arrogance. This was none of those, this was a decision.
A strange pressure brushed against her senses, subtle but unmistakable. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
Danger.
She swallowed and looked away, then back again.
Luke's eyes had darkened—not visibly, not in a way anyone else would notice. But she felt it, deep in her gut, the way prey knows when a predator has chosen its target.
For a split second, their eyes met, her breath caught. It felt like staring into a storm held perfectly still, then he looked away. The pressure faded—but the unease didn't.
Annabeth exhaled shakily as she exited with only one thought in mind. That she was being pulled into a danger she didn't understand.