The wind carried no noise, a dead silence, something you could somehow even hear through the trees.
The only noticeable sounds were those of the whispering students and wind making the leaves rustle.
It was as if the leaves were shivering, like they too, sensed something greater lurking in the depths of the forest.
The air pressed heavy against Koku's skin, though he felt nothing beyond the memory of what such weight once meant. Aron's question hung between them..
"I have to ask… who are you really?"
Koku's attention flickered at the words, but his interest died just as fast.
His violet glowing, unreadable eyes barely shifted, clearly his body was acting in some way to better assist him.
Waiting and while keeping his guard up his face remained a blank slate.
The memories of what it meant to feel curiosity or irritation surfaced, but they were just that—memories. Distant, like echoes from another life.
He simply answered with his name. Nothing more.
Aron studied him for a long moment, as if trying to peel back layers that weren't there to begin with. When it became clear that Koku wouldn't elaborate, he exhaled quietly, then changed his approach.
"Your senses are sharp. Your fighting ability is even sharper. I've never seen someone like you, Although i've heard of old texts in my families library that mention an old war where children were made to fight from young."
There was no arrogance or flattery in his voice, just a plain statement of fact. Then, without waiting for a response, Aron turned and crouched, he moved away to check on the others, wondering why his eyes glowed in the dark, very little light visible, a couple camp fires in the background, some distance away.
Even without the fires, you'd see his glowing eyes. Either it was cool, or dumb given their situation in the blind darkness. Maybe both.
Koku remained still beneath the vast, moonless sky. He tilted his head upward, staring into the darkness.
"A new moon… doesn't change anything. But it looks like I've unlocked an ability I didn't know I had."
There was no excitement, no shock. Just the knowledge of change. For a fleeting moment, the ghost of an instinctual smile brushed his lips—the first in a year.
It wasn't because he was happy. It was because he remembered the past, what it was like to be happy. The feeling never came. Only the memory of it.
The darkness around him wasn't absolute. In fact, it wasn't darkness at all. The world had shifted. Everything was outlined in shades of white, black and silver, details sharper than ever before. More than that, he saw… everything.
Not just ahead or to the sides, but all around. A full 360-degree awareness that shouldn't have been possible. His vision was temporarily under a sort of night vision and 360 vision effect.
Regardless of it, he could now see in the dark, and that was helpful.
The ghostly smile was gone as quickly as it came.
His expression returned to the neutral state it always did. He turned his head slightly as the air shifted.
The trees rustled, their branches swaying in a wind that wasn't there.
It was time.
Without hesitation, Koku moved. First a step, then another. Then he was running. Faster. The ground blurred beneath him, his footsteps light, nearly nonexistent. No sound.
No crunch of leaves. No shift in the air.
Only silence.
"So it's true..." he murmured, processing the confirmation. It wasn't just his vision. The moment he had absorbed the owl's abilities, everything about him had changed.
He slowed, stopping abruptly.
The sensation of being watched was unmistakable. But unlike before—he saw them.
Above, hidden in the thick canopy, three Night Owls lurked, their massive forms blending into the shadows.
Even with his enhanced sight, they looked monstrous. Two of them, standing at ten feet tall, radiated a quiet, simmering menace. But the third—
Fifteen feet tall.
Its eyes weren't yellow like the others. They glowed red, unnatural and piercing. Older. Wiser. Wounded.
Koku's hand tightened around the hilt of his aura sword. The blade hummed into existence, translucent energy pulsing, casting a faint glow onto the forest floor.
The two smaller owls attacked first. No hesitation. Their talons gleamed as they dove, slicing through the air with a force meant to kill.
Koku moved without thought. His sword met them head-on. Sparks flared as steel met claw, a brutal, fast clash of movement. A moment later, they broke away, vanishing back into the sky.
Then the largest one moved.
A powerful force slammed into him, like the wind itself had turned solid. The impact sent him flying back, his body crashing against a tree with enough force to crack the trunk. Bark exploded outward, splinters scattering in the air.
Koku landed on his feet after going through the tree, this would likely leave most experienced fighters unharmed while it left Koku in a staggering sensation of uncomfort, it had hurt him. The pain registered somewhere, but it never reached him fully.
His body had already started healing, the minor wounds sealing instantly.
He lifted his gaze. The massive owl loomed before him, its wings stretched wide, the air around it bending unnaturally.
It was testing him.
But he had already learned something important.
His grip on the aura sword tightened, the glow intensifying. He shifted his stance, waiting.
The moment the owl moved, he did too.
Their battle was relentless. The beast was impossibly fast for something its size. But Koku was faster.
His unnatural perception let him track every movement, every twitch of its feathers before it acted.
He adapted.
And so did it.
Every attack he landed, the owl countered. Talons raked his side, slicing fabric and skin. The pain was distant, muted. His body healed, the damage gone before it could slow him down.
This wasn't just an animal.
It was intelligent.
Learning.
Koku studied the creature as they clashed again, calculating the pattern of its movements. He adjusted, feeding more energy into his sword. The glow shifted from faint blue to deep, electric violet.
The owl lunged. This time, Koku didn't dodge.
He struck.
A single, precise arc. The aura slash cut through the air, expanding as it traveled. The Night Owl's red eyes widened in realization.
Too late.
A deafening screech ripped through the night.
The impact sent minor shockwaves through the forest. Leaves tore from branches, the ground trembled. Koku shielded his eyes from the wind as his attack met its mark.
The owl was sent hurtling backward, swallowed by the darkness which was then followed by a massive thud noise.
And then—silence.
The battlefield was still. The only sound was the faint rustle of disturbed leaves settling again. Koku didn't move, waiting. Watching.
Then, the rustling started again.
Slow, deliberate.
The red-eyed owl emerged, its feathers ruffled but intact.
Blood dripped from its side where Koku had struck, but the wound was shallow. Its gaze locked onto him, unreadable, intelligent.
Then, to his surprise, it didn't attack.
It lowered its head slightly. A slow, deliberate motion.
Koku's grip on his sword tightened, unsure. It wasn't submission. It wasn't fear.
It must've been acknowledgment.
Then, without another sound, the great owl turned and disappeared into the shadows of the trees as it flew away, its form melting into the night as if it had never been there.
Koku let out a slow breath. He didn't lower his sword immediately, only staring at the empty space where the beast had stood.
Not a victory.
Not a loss.
Something in between.
He turned away, the glow of his sword fading. The forest had returned to silence, but the weight of the encounter lingered.
This wasn't over.
He knew it. They were still out there, watching and stalking.
And after what felt to everyone like an eternity, the forest held its breath. The night was eerily still, as if the very air had frozen in anticipation.
Then, without warning—a force, powerful and relentless, crashed into Koku like a storm given form.
A violent gust of wind, amplified tenfold, slammed into him. He barely had time to register the movement before the world twisted around him.
His body became weightless for a fraction of a second, then—impact.
The force of the blow sent him careening backward, his form cutting through the air like a stone flung from a catapult.
He collided with a tree, the sound of splintering bark ringing through the forest like a gunshot.
The impact sent shockwaves up the trunk, its once-sturdy foundation shaking under the sheer force. A numbing cold sensation seemingly introducing the warmth of his running blood.
Dust and fragments of wood scattered through the air, caught in the moonlight like frozen embers from a dying fire.
Yet, as the debris settled, Koku stood. His boots planted firmly against the ground, his breathing steady.
His violet eyes, glowing faintly in the dark, locked onto the massive owl before him, and again, the pain gnawing at his body.
It was testing him. Measuring his strength.
Koku's expression did not change. If it expected fear, hesitation, or even acknowledgment of its strength—it would find none. He had already learned something crucial.
His aura sword reformed in an instant, materializing in his grip with a vibrant hum. The blade pulsed with energy, the humming was the material of the metal wearing itself out due to the strain of the purple aura.
The glow intensified as he shifted his stance, poised for the next exchange. His body, though battered, did not falter.
His healing had already begun, sealing the minor wounds inflicted by the impact.
The Night Owl regarded him, its massive form partially obscured by the canopy. Its glowing red eyes reflected the faint light, twin beacons of raw intelligence and primal power.
Unlike the other creatures he had fought, this one was not simply attacking out of instinct. It was watching, studying and adapting all together.
Then, it struck.
The battle erupted with the force of a hurricane.
The owl moved impossibly fast for its size, its talons slicing through the air like razors.
But Koku was faster. He met each strike with precision, his aura sword clashing against claws strong enough to carve through stone.
Sparks ignited with every impact, illuminating the battlefield in brief flashes of violet and silver.
Yet, for every strike he landed, the beast retaliated with equal ferocity.
Talons raked against his side, cutting through cloth and flesh. Pain flared—but only for a second. His body responded before his mind could, sealing the wound with unnatural efficiency.
Blood spilled, but it did not linger. Something was helping him. Something or someone he wasn't aware of yet.
The sensation of the moment was numbing, when he focused on the feeling slowly overtaking him, the pain left slowly, and through it seeped comfort.
A warm eerie feeling which seemed to hug him.
He couldn't see what it was, but he could feel that something was real, or close to being real in the moment.
It could've been paranoia, but it could've also been something else, he wasn't sure. He didn't have magic, and last he remembered he never acquired Aura.
Gaining a second.
Koku's breath was steady, measured. The beast had not simply learned his speed. It had adjusted its rhythm, feinting, misdirecting, forcing him to react rather than dictate the pace.
It had adapted in mere moments, not physically, but mentally, to the battle.
A slow grin, faint but undeniable, tugged at the corner of his lips.
Excitement.
Whatever force kept him bound had begun seeding it into him, threading it through the cracks of his empty state, his emotions lack of presence.
Not just the sensation, but the memory of it—like a whisper from a time when anticipation had weight, when a challenge could stir something real. It flickered within him, distant yet undeniable.
Just like before. The rabbit chase. The thrill or saddening of the unknown.
The understanding that if it could adapt, so could he.
But the thought carried its own shadow—if adaptation failed, so did survival.
Then, for the briefest moment, an image flashed in his mind.
Chains.
Not just one, but many, stretching in every direction, vanishing into the endless darkness the setting took place.
But only one part of their prisoner was visible—a hand. Pale, motionless, bound by a jet-black cuff. The chains spiraled outward, twisting like living things, dragging toward something unseen.
Something waiting beyond the frame of his vision.
The air between them crackled with tension.
Koku tightened his grip, channeling more unknown purple energy into his sword.
The glow deepened, shifting from its usual light purple to a rich, electric violet. The hum grew sharper, resonating with a power that vibrated through his very bones.
The owl lunged again.
This time, Koku did not evade.
He stepped forward.
His blade arced through the air in a perfect, fluid motion. A single, precise slash, carrying with it the full weight of his power.
The energy expanded outward, cutting through the darkness like a crescent moon descending upon the earth.
The owl's glowing red eyes widened as it tried flying over the slash in a slope-like way. Recognition. Realization.
Too late.
The aura slash connected. A deafening screech tore through the night as the force of the attack sent the beast flying.
Trees groaned under the sheer pressure, leaves ripped from branches, and the very ground seemed to tremble beneath the shockwave.
Koku shielded his eyes from the blast of displaced air, the force rolling over him like a tidal wave.
Then—silence.
The dust settled. The battlefield, once alive with motion and sound, was now eerily still.
The only noise was the faint rustling of leaves, slowly drifting back to the earth.
Koku remained motionless, his gaze locked onto the spot where the owl had fallen.
Had he won? Or had the fight merely paused again?
A shift in the air.
Before Koku could react, a deep, guttural sound rumbled through the trees. Not a screech. Not a cry of pain.
A growl.
His grip on the sword tightened.
His gaze snapped to the darkness where the owl had disappeared. The ground trembled once more—not from the aftershocks of his attack, but from something rising.
The owl emerged.
Its wings hung slightly lower, its body marred by fresh wounds. But it stood. It stood.
Smoke-like energy coiled around its form, its red eyes burning brighter than before. Its breathing was slow. Controlled.
The reckless aggression from before was gone. In its place—something far more dangerous.
It had learned from this too.
Koku exhaled, a quiet sound in the vast emptiness of the forest. He had wounded it. But it was still here. Stronger. Smarter. More aware of what he was capable of.
"So that's how it is."
The Night Owl moved.
Faster than before. Its attack pattern was different now—less predictable, more precise. It no longer relied on brute strength.
It twisted mid-air, using its wings to change direction unnaturally, making it harder to track.
Koku met it head-on.
Their battle intensified, a clash of pure speed and strategy. Each exchanged blow carried more weight, each dodge was narrower than the last.
The owl's talons clipped his shoulder, a shallow wound that sealed before the blood could even drip.
But Koku was bettering himself too.
He stopped attacking. He dodged. He sidestepped.
He let the creature attack again and again—watching, analyzing, waiting.
The owl hesitated. A fraction of a second.
It was all he needed.
Koku lunged, feinting an overhead slash. The owl reacted instantly, shifting its wings to block.
Exactly as he predicted.
He twisted, redirecting his attack mid-motion. His aura blade cut deep into its side, energy searing through flesh.
A cry of agony ripped from the beast's throat.
It stumbled. Its eyes flickered. The glow—dimmer now.
Koku landed, sword at the ready, but the owl did not retaliate.
Instead, it stepped back. Then another. Now, without warning—it spread its wings and launched itself into the sky.
Koku's eyes tracked it as it vanished into the dark over the trees, the sound of its flight fading into the distance.
The good things were that its flight was noticeable now, and he could still see due to whatever ability was granting him night vision.
The fight was over.
Not won exactly, but for the most part.
He remained still for a long moment, letting the forest return to its usual quiet state. Then, exhaling slowly, he sheathed his sword.
He could pursue it. End it. But something told him that wasn't necessary. Not yet, or at all.
Turning, he made his way back to Group Lotus.
By the time he arrived, the camp was still.
The fires burned low, casting long shadows across the ground. Most of the group was resting, but one figure stood waiting.
Aron.
The older kid watched him carefully, his silver eyes unreadable in the dim light.
After some time, feeling the tension in the air he spoke.
"You know,"
Aron murmured, voice low, trying not to wake some who managed to begin resting.
"They say everywhere in the world, monsters started getting stronger, acting out of place, and leaving their territories overnight."
Koku didn't reply, but he listened.
"Recently as of a few years ago stories about creatures that aren't just strong started popping up. Monsters that adapt and learn things that aren't supposed to exist."
Koku replayed the battle in his mind. The way the owl moved. The way it adjusted.
Aron met his gaze.
"You saw it too, didn't you?"
Koku acknowledged it.
"Yeah,"
He admitted.
"I did, and don't assume monsters can't learn, you could call humans, monsters too. We learned, grew and adapted to the times, just like other creatures do."
But oddly enough, the sensation of his excitement was gone now, it was all normal again.
His wounds healed over the surface, no bleeding but pain still present.
His bones were either strained or even fractured.