Nothing happened.
No light filled the cave. No voice spoke my name. No sign appeared to tell me that my suffering had been worth it. The cave remained silent—cold, empty, indifferent—like it was mocking my hopes.
I lay there for a long time, staring into the darkness, my body aching, my wounds burning. My heart felt heavier than my injuries.
"So this is it?" I whispered bitterly.
"Twenty-one days… for nothing?"
Despair wrapped itself around me like chains. Hunger, fear, blood, pain—I had endured all of it. I had risked my life, followed every rule, resisted every temptation. And yet, in the end, I was left with nothing.
"I wasted my life," I muttered.
"I chased a lie."
The pain in my chest wasn't just from the wolf's claws. It was deeper than that. It was the pain of broken hope.
I didn't pray again.
I didn't chant.
I didn't beg.
Slowly, I forced myself to stand. My legs trembled, but I didn't care. I stepped out of the cave without looking back, without expecting anything anymore.
That night, I returned home in silence.
The forest no longer frightened me. Fear required hope—and I had none left. I reached my small, broken house, collapsed onto the bed without treating my wounds, and closed my eyes.
I fell asleep instantly.
As if my soul itself had given up.
When I woke up the next morning, something was wrong.
The first thing I felt was heat.
Not the warmth of the sun or a fever—but something deeper, something burning inside me. My eyes snapped open as my heart began to pound violently.
My entire body felt like it was on fire.
I sat up abruptly, gasping for breath.
"What… is happening to me?" I whispered.
My skin was hot to the touch. Heat radiated from my chest, spreading through my arms, my legs, my veins. It felt as if something powerful was awakening inside me—something that had been sleeping for a very long time.
Then it hit me.
A surge.
Like electricity rushing through my blood.
My muscles tightened. My breath caught in my throat. Every nerve in my body screamed as raw energy surged through me. My hair stood on end, and for a moment, I thought my heart might burst.
But instead of pain—
I felt alive.
More alive than I had ever felt before.
I stood up.
And then I heard it.
Voices.
At first, I thought I was hallucinating. But the voices weren't inside my head—they were coming from far away. Too far away.
Two men were speaking.
Their words were clear. Sharp. Distinct.
I froze.
My door was closed. My house was isolated. There was no way I could hear anyone from here.
Yet I could.
I focused.
And suddenly, the world expanded.
More voices appeared. Different tones. Different directions. Conversations carried by the wind from distances no human ear could reach.
My eyes widened in shock.
"I can hear them…" I whispered.
"All of them…"
Then the realization struck me like thunder.
I could hear voices ten kilometers away.
My heart raced—not with fear, but with awe.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't human.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My thoughts were clear. Sharper than ever before. No confusion. No weakness. Only certainty.
And then came another change.
Confidence.
Not the fragile confidence of hope—but something deeper. Something primal. A sense of dominance. I felt taller, stronger, as if the world itself had shifted beneath my feet.
For the first time in my life, I didn't feel small.
I felt like a leader.
Like others would follow me without question.
I walked toward the cracked mirror hanging on the wall and stared at my reflection.
My face was the same—but my eyes were not.
There was a wild glow in them. A predatory sharpness. The eyes of a hunter.
"The power…" I whispered.
"It's here."
Then I noticed something else.
My wounds.
The deep gashes left by the wolf's claws were almost gone. Fresh scars remained, but the flesh beneath had healed unnaturally fast.
My breath caught.
"That wolf…" I murmured.
"It wasn't trying to kill me."
Everything suddenly made sense.
The attack.
The timing.
The pain.
It was all part of the trial.
The wolf wasn't an enemy—it was the final test.
If I had given up that night…
If I had failed to reach the cave…
I would never have been worthy of this power.
I closed my eyes.
And that was when I felt it.
Something inside me.
Deep. Ancient. Wild.
A presence.
Not separate from me—but fused with my soul.
The spirit of the wolf.
Its strength flowed through my muscles.
Its senses sharpened my mind.
Its fury slept beneath my calm.
Its dominance filled my heart.
I understood then.
This power wasn't a gift.
It was a bond.
I was no longer the poor boy who cut wood to survive. I was no longer prey to hunger, fear, or fate.
I had become something else.
Something dangerous.
Something powerful.
I opened my eyes and whispered:
"This is only the beginning."
And somewhere deep within me—
The wolf howled.