Ares stepped out of the infirmary, his eyes dull and lifeless—void-like. Each step felt heavier than the last, his legs trembling slightly, nearly causing him to stumble. Still, he pushed forward.
Ever since he was a child, he had feared needles. His mother would always hold him close during vaccinations, whispering comforting words while he pretended to be brave. But the sting always came. The pain always followed.
Yet nothing—not even those childhood fears—compared to what he had just endured. He had stared death in the face. And somehow, he'd survived.
The hallway lights stung his eyes, unnaturally bright. For a moment, he wondered if he was in the afterlife. But then he saw him.
Kendrick.
Leaning against the wall with his head bowed, arms folded, and eyes closed. His mere presence made Ares' blood boil. His fists clenched instinctively, a single vein bulging on his forehead.
"Kendrick," Ares muttered, struggling to suppress the rage bubbling beneath the surface.
Kendrick opened his eyes slowly, a mocking grin curling on his lips.
"Well, well, well… look who decided to live," he said, voice laced with sarcasm. "The hero himself, in the flesh. Honestly, I thought you'd be the first to die in there—"
Ares' fists clenched tighter, visions of tearing Kendrick apart flashing through his mind. He imagined torturing him slowly, chipping away at that ego until nothing remained.
"—but I guess strength means nothing if you don't have the brains—"
Ares cut him off. "What are you doing here? Don't you have actual duties?"
Kendrick's smile twitched. He hated being interrupted, but he held himself back. Brown's orders.
"Tch. Apparently, the old man assigned me to escort you to your dorm. Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't waste a second helping a low-rank like you otherwise."
Ares scowled. He didn't need Kendrick's help. Especially not from someone who reveled in others' deaths and treated low-rankers like dirt. He knew the rules here—survival of the fittest—but the sheer number of casualties in the first experiment couldn't have been sustainable. If they kept this up, they'd never reach their goal of creating the "Ultimate Hunter."
"I don't need your help," Ares said coldly, brushing past him.
Kendrick's smirk widened as he turned. "At least you've got some common sense. Unlike that pathetic wimp—what was his name again? Ah, right. Jonathan. Helped some girl, only to get betrayed. What an idiot."
Ares froze.
His fists began to shake, his whole body trembling with fury. He knew Kendrick was baiting him, and he couldn't afford to take the bait—not with Kendrick's authority.
Damn it. Calm down. Don't lose it… Don't give him what he wants.
But Kendrick was relentless.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled lazily. "Let's see… Jonathan... Puhahaha! Look at this guy's face. Absolutely terrified. What a loser."
Ares gritted his teeth, nails digging into his palms.
Kendrick laughed louder, mocking, cruel, loud enough to pierce the silence.
Then it happened.
He felt it.
A wave of killing intent flooded the corridor—dense, cold, suffocating. Kendrick's laughter died in his throat. His instincts screamed danger. It wasn't just anger—it was murderous, raw, and unnatural. Not even General Brown's presence had shaken him like this.
His eyes darted toward the source.
Ares.
Without thinking, Kendrick lunged and slammed him to the ground.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Ares shouted, caught off-guard.
He struggled, but Kendrick's strength overwhelmed him.
Then—cold steel.
A dagger with a flame insignia on the hilt and a blue-glowing edge appeared in Kendrick's hand. He raised it high—ready to strike.
"W-Wait—!"
Whoosh!
Ares shut his eyes, bracing for the pain.
But it never came.
When he peeked, the dagger hovered inches above his face, unmoving.
Kendrick's eyes glowed faintly blue, his expression unreadable. Something was wrong. He wasn't acting like his usual self.
Then, just as suddenly, Kendrick pulled back and let him go.
Ares didn't waste a second—he elbowed him in the chest and scrambled away. "What the hell was that about?!" he yelled, loud enough to echo.
No one responded. The corridor remained eerily silent.
Kendrick stared down at his weapon, his brow furrowed in confusion.
'What… was that?'
He felt the intent coming from Ares. But something was off. That wasn't just fury. That was murder. Pure and primal. And yet, somehow… it didn't feel entirely human.
He ruffled his hair, frustrated, then turned to Ares. "Oi. Let's go."
He paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Just so you know… this place is soundproof. Yelling won't save you."
With that, he walked away, leaving Ares frozen in place.
"HEY! Are you deaf?" Kendrick snapped again.
Ares snapped out of it and followed silently. The corridor, once stained with blood just hours ago, now gleamed as if freshly constructed—spotless. The dorms were quiet. Everyone was likely trying to rest, recover, and process the trauma of the experiment.
Once he reached his room, Ares shut the door quickly, locking Kendrick out before he could try anything else. Kendrick stood there for a moment, staring at the door with narrowed eyes, then left without a word.
Inside, Ares saw Jones and Sylvia asleep in their beds. But Nia… was missing.
"Where is she?" he muttered.
He pushed the thought aside and checked the time on the phone he left in his locker. 10 PM.
Letting out a sigh, he lay on the empty bed and stared at his phone, trying to access the internet. No signal.
He tried moving around the room, hoping for a better spot, but there was nothing. Not a single bar of service.
If I can't even get a signal here… how do they contact the outside world?
He thought about it for a moment, then gave up. He was too tired to care. Despite sleeping in the infirmary, his body still ached with exhaustion.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time in days, he wasn't afraid of dying in his sleep.
And that made the silence feel strangely peaceful.
The skyline was dark, every light in the city slowly dimming… except one.
At the very top of a high-rise building, a single window glowed.
Inside, Celeste Roshin sat at her desk, eyes half-closed, pen dragging lazily across a document. She'd been working non-stop, preparing to unveil a new combat technique to the world. She hadn't rested in over twenty-four hours.
Her head bobbed forward.
Just as she was about to drift off—
Ring. Ring.
She groaned, reaching for her phone. The name "Linda" flashed on the screen.
"…Linda?" she answered, her voice drowsy. "It's almost midnight. You should be sleeping. Don't you have an exam tomorrow?"
"I just finished studying!" Linda replied cheerfully, lounging in bed.
Celeste sighed. "That's nice. What do you want?"
"I was wondering if you've seen Ares. I tried calling, but it keeps going to voicemail. And he wasn't home yesterday."
Celeste rubbed her tired eyes. "Did you burn through another teleportation crystal trying to visit him again?"
"I just wanted to see him…"
Celeste exhaled slowly. "No, I haven't seen him in two days. But I'll check after my meeting tomorrow, alright?"
"Yay! Thanks, sis!"
"Alright. Now go to sleep. You've got exams tomorrow. Miss them, and I'll personally train you."
Linda gulped. "A-Alright!" click.
Celeste set the phone down and leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting.
'Maybe I should bring him something… for, y'know… breaking into his home last time.'
She allowed herself a soft smile, then closed her eyes.
Sleep finally claimed her.