It was true that this trial would be harder than anything Damien had ever faced, but at least he wouldn't have to go through it alone. He was allowed two teammates, and who he wanted was obvious. Looking around, he finally spotted Luka and Summer. The two had already grouped up, and Damien walked over to join them.
Summer looked worn out from her battle. Her hair was a mess, strands sticking to her sweaty face, and her eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Despite all of that, she still looked as beautiful as ever. On the other hand, Luka looked like he hadn't even fought. His hair was perfectly in place, his skin dry and flawless as always, and his eyes gleamed with the energy of someone just getting started.
Out of the three of them, Damien was sure he looked the most messed up. He was still struggling to recover from the healing Mrs. Abby had done on him earlier, and the limp in his step was a clear sign that he wasn't fully back to normal. As he hobbled over to them, both Summer and Luka noticed him and flashed him warm smiles. Before he could say anything, Summer wrapped him in a tight hug.
Damien's face flushed red as her fit body pressed against his. Damn, she's so cute, he thought, momentarily distracted by the warmth of her embrace. He quickly shook off the embarrassing thoughts and returned the hug, trying to keep his voice cool. "Good job on your win. I didn't get to see it, but I'm sure it wasn't easy."
Summer let out a little laugh and replied, "Yeah, it wasn't easy. That girl was a maniac. She even bit me at one point." Letting go of Damien, Summer pulled down the collar of her shirt to reveal the bite marks left by the crazy woman. "See? Mrs. Abby couldn't even heal it right away."
Damien examined the marks. If Mrs. Abby couldn't heal them immediately, it must have been something related to the opponent's ability. Damien chuckled at the thought of an ability that involved biting. Summer narrowed her eyes at him, her voice tinged with annoyance. "Why are you laughing? It's not funny!"
Damien threw his hands up in defense. "No, no, no. I wasn't—"
But before he could finish, Luka burst out laughing. "It's so funny, Summer. She gave you a little hickey!"
The comment broke the tension, and the three of them burst into laughter. At that moment, all the stress and fear from the exam seemed to melt away. They had passed the first round together, and for a brief second, everything felt like it would be okay.
After their laughter died down, Damien turned to Luka and Summer with a serious expression. "So, we're teaming up, right?"
Luka and Summer stopped laughing and exchanged a quick look before both answered in unison, "No shit."
Damien paused, a thought striking him. He had just realized he didn't know Summer's ability, which made sense since she had only recently awakened while he was unconscious. He also wasn't sure what his own ability would be, considering he was still unawakened. He had a vague idea of Luka's abilities, but only the basics. If they were going to be a team, they needed to be in sync with one another. They needed to know what each of them could do and their tendencies.
"Hey, why don't we all meet at Luka's tomorrow to train and figure out how to best use our abilities?"
They nodded in agreement, but Summer spoke up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Yeah, let's do that. But Luka lives far from me, so how about you guys come to my house instead?"
Luka raised an eyebrow, confused. "So you're going to make us travel the long distance instead?"
Summer giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth. "Well, duh. I'm the girl; it's the least you guys could do."
Damien opened his mouth to protest. He had hoped that if they went to Luka's, he could see Mrs. Sharp and Summer together, which would surely drive his mind wild. But before he could say anything, Summer had already turned around, heading toward the shower, leaving Damien and Luka standing there, speechless.
Later that evening, Damien found himself back at the Sharps' residence with nowhere else to go. He was exhausted and slightly injured from his earlier fight, but he still couldn't shake the thoughts in his head. He couldn't help but admire Mrs. Sharp, and the observant Luka punched him for it. After finishing his meal and quickly excusing himself, Damien retreated to his king-sized bed.
Ah, the pity is welcomed, he thought, collapsing onto the mattress.
As he lay there, Damien couldn't help but reflect on his time with the Sharps. It had only been two weeks, but in that time, Luka and he had grown closer, and Mrs. Sharp had treated him like one of her own. It was a strange feeling—comfort but also confusion. On the one hand, being cared for like a son was nice. But on the other hand, he already had a mother. The more time he spent with Mrs. Sharp and Luka, the more he thought about his own family—his mother and brother. The memories he cherished were tainted with guilt—the guilt of being the only survivor of his family.
He knew he couldn't have done anything for his father and brother; he was just a kid when they lost their lives in battle. But his mother's death was a different story. She had taken her life months after Damien's father and brother had died, and Damien blamed himself for it.
If only I had been there for her and not stuck in that stupid academy...
His mother had fallen into a deep depression after losing her husband and eldest son. She couldn't bear the thought of losing Damien, too, especially with him being a deviant. The likelihood of him dying in the same way was almost a certainty. Damien often wished he could have returned in time, left the academy, and stayed with her. He wished he could have abandoned the mission, abandoned everything to keep her alive, to keep her with him. But he knew that would have been pointless. His life was never truly his.
I really do hate this world.
Damien glanced at the clock beside his bed, shaking off the negative thoughts. It was 10:43 PM. A small smile tugged at his lips as he felt a surge of excitement. Tomorrow. I will be awakened.
It was the day every deviant dreamed of—the day his life would either be sealed or given a new purpose. Still smiling, Damien closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion take him under as he drifted off to sleep.
…
Damien's mind was empty—eerily, unnaturally empty. No dreams. No nightmares. No flickers of thought drifting through the void like usual. Just silence.
That was weird. His mind always wandered at night—usually to dark places, bad memories, or twisted versions of reality. Sleep was rarely restful. But now? He felt aware. Lucid. Like he was watching himself dream, only there was nothing to see.
He floated in a vast, infinite darkness. Not the kind that creeps in and suffocates, but the kind that cradles you. It wrapped around him like a warm blanket, a soft hush over every thought. It wasn't cold or frightening—it was… peaceful. Calming. For once, his mind wasn't screaming. He could just be.
No anxiety. No pain. No noise.
Just sleep.
But, of course, that didn't last.
A voice echoed from somewhere beyond the void—gentle at first.
"Wake up."
Damien flinched slightly, though he didn't move. The voice felt familiar. Not in a comforting way, but like something he'd forgotten long ago. He ignored it. Whatever it was, it wasn't strong enough to pull him out. He just sank deeper, embracing the dark stillness.
"Wake up."
Again, the voice came—firmer this time. And with it, a tug. Something yanked gently at his consciousness, like a thread being pulled loose. He grimaced, annoyed. Even in this serene nothingness, something had to bother him?
Nope. Not happening. He shoved the sensation aside and let himself dissolve into the quiet.
But then the voice changed.
"God damn it, will you wake the fuck up?!"
It slammed into him like a hammer to the skull. The void shattered, and something yanked him upward with all the subtlety of a Class Five monster tossing a car. Not that he'd ever fought one, but this sure felt like it. The peace was gone.
His eyes flew open. He sat up, groggy and pissed off, voice cracking as he barked into the empty room, "What the hell do you want, idiot?!"
His gaze darted around, half-expecting to see a certain blonde troublemaker grinning by the door—but there was no one. The room was dead quiet, dim, and empty. Just him, alone in bed, panting like he'd just run a marathon in his sleep.
He rubbed his face, pushing the lingering haze from his mind. Maybe it was just a dream. A weird, vivid one. Darkness, a voice, that strange sense of peace. Yeah, it had to be another one of his nightmares messing with him again. Just more creative than usual.
He sighed. "Dream. Definitely just a dream."
'Back to sleep.'
But of course, right as that thought crossed his mind—
"No, for heaven's sake, please don't do that." The voice was back. Same tone, the same panicked edge, the same incredibly annoying presence.
Damien's eyes shot open again, and he stared at the ceiling like it owed him answers. "Oh, come on."
He looked around. Again—nothing. No one in sight.
"Not the brightest tool in the shed, are we?" the voice snickered, echoing inside his skull like it had all the room in the world.
"Fully awake" was an understatement. Damien jumped out of bed and started checking his room, muttering curses under his breath as he opened drawers, kicked aside clothes, and checked under the bed like an angry gremlin. If someone was screwing with him, they were gonna regret it.
But the voice just kept going.
"You're cute when you panic. Like a confused puppy, but meaner."
Damien froze mid-search. Wait… no one's here. There's no one here. The voice… it's in my head?
"Bingo! There it is! Took you long enough. Honestly, I was starting to worry that you were hopeless. But nah, you're just slow."
"Are you serious right now?" Damien groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he stared up at the ceiling like it was the source of all his problems. "A voice in my head. Great. Just what I needed."
Still grumbling, he flopped back onto his bed and stared at the clock: 5:00 AM. Of course, it was.
"What kind of special idiot hears a super-cool, mysterious voice in their head and thinks, 'Yeah, I'm gonna just sleep this off'? You're unreal."
Damien sat up slowly, his exhaustion now competing with his rising urge to punch something. "Uh, me. Who the hell wakes someone up at five in the goddamn morning?"
The voice huffed, clearly offended. "Oh, I'm so sorry for trying to save your ass. Did you know you're a walking horror show when you sleep? I've never seen nightmares that gruesome before, and I've seen things."
Damien didn't even flinch. He just glared at the ceiling, then sighed and answered in his head this time, 'So… that darkness thing. That was you?'
"Correct!" the voice chirped, proud. "That nice void you were in? That was me shielding your mind. I gave you peace. I gave you rest. I gave you nothingness! And how do you repay me? By being a grumpy little goblin."
Damien closed his eyes and grumbled, 'Okay, fine. You win. I'm listening. What do you want?'
There was a pause—too long—and then:
"Ah, the golden question! So glad you asked. I was once a great man—strong, wise, devastatingly handsome—now reduced to a humble voice trapped in the heads of half-baked heroes like yourself. Some say I'm a guide, a helper… others call me a God."
Damien groaned again and flopped back onto the pillow, already regretting every decision he'd made leading up to this moment. The voice continued its self-important ramble like it was giving a TED talk to an audience of one.
"…and then there was the time I saved humanity from total destruction—oh! You should've seen their faces. There was this dramatic sunset and everyone—"
"Can you just get to the point already?!" Damien snapped, sitting up again and grabbing a pillow like he might throw it across the room.
The voice stopped mid-rant, coughed awkwardly, and said, "Right, yeah, sorry. Got a little carried away there. In short—"
Dramatic pause.
"I'm your ability."
Another beat of silence.
"You're welcome."
Damien stared at the ceiling again, eyes twitching.
"…Of course, I got the one ability that talks more than the people I actively avoid."