Valmer leaned forward on his creaking chair, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. "So, Ariel, does that mean there's no limit to how many skills you can copy or whom you copy them from?" he asked, his voice curious.
Kenshi, leaning against a cracked wall, his katana resting by his thigh, fixed his amber eyes on Ariel, his silence heavy with anticipation. His damp ponytail clung to his neck, raindrops tracing his leather jacket.
Ariel sat on a broken crate, her golden hair plastered to her face. "I can only copy skills from people of lower ranks," she said, her voice clear despite the storm's roar. "As for how many skills… I don't know yet." She shrugged, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face.
Valmer and Kenshi exchanged a glance, their shoulders relaxing slightly, a wave of relief softening their tense postures. The idea of Ariel copying limitless skills had painted her as a potential monster in their minds, but her limits made her seem less daunting—yet still formidable. If she could copy without a cap, she could become a terrifying foe or a luminous ally.
Celine, huddled on the floor beside Ariel, her red hair dripping, hesitated before speaking. "Then, those magic attacks you used earlier… were they?" she asked, her voice trembling, barely rising above the wind's wail.
Ariel nodded, cutting her off gently. "Yes, I copied them from your classmates earlier," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She hadn't revealed her second life yet, a secret that would surely stun them, but she held it back.
Ariel's expression shifted, growing serious as she leaned forward, her hands gripping the crate's edge. "There's something I need to ask," she said, her voice firm, locking eyes with Valmer, then Kenshi. Both men straightened, their attention sharpening, the room's chill seeming to deepen.
"The Whisperkin, one of the Seven Elite Rank Geminis, is holding my brother, Zane, captive in Ravenloch's heart," she said, her words heavy with desperation. She clasped her hands, her knuckles whitening. "I beg you to help me rescue him."
Kenshi's brow furrowed, his katana glinting as he shifted, his voice calm but probing. "How do you know that? Have you confirmed his location—or if he's still alive?" His amber eyes bored into hers, searching for answers.
Ariel's jaw tightened, her gaze unwavering. "The Whisperkin told me," she said, her voice steady despite the memory's weight. She described how the creature emerged from a swirling portal, its faceless head hissing her brother's fate, taunting her to come to his school. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying the fear she suppressed.
Valmer rubbed his chin, his chair creaking as he leaned back, deep in thought. "So, they can talk? Sounds like a trap," he said, his tone cautious, his eyes narrowing as if picturing the Whisperkin's ominous presence.
Ariel shook her head, her hair flicking droplets. "It's not a trap," she insisted, her voice firm, rising above the storm's growl.
Kenshi crossed his arms, his katana's hilt brushing his thigh. "Listen, kid, I get you want to save your brother, but we can't just rush in. We need a plan," he said, his voice flat, leaving no room for debate, his gaze hard as steel.
Ariel leaned closer, her eyes blazing with conviction. "The Whisperkin is stronger than you think. It could've killed me right there, but it didn't. It doesn't need a trap to crush me," she said, her words simple but heavy, each one landing like a stone. "I felt its power—it's hiding something."
Valmer raised a brow, his grin faint but curious. "You've seen what we can do, and you still think we don't stand a chance?" he asked, tilting his head, his rosary beads clicking softly.
Ariel's lips pressed into a thin line, her hands clenching. "It's not that. It's… strange. I hit its weak spot with all my strength, but it didn't even flinch. There's more to it than it lets on," she said, her voice tinged with unease, her eyes distant as she recalled the Whisperkin's eerie stillness.
Kenshi nodded, his expression grim. "That's why we need to think this through. We're heading toward Ravenloch anyway, but we should wait for the other two Primordials to join us before we make any decision. They'll arrive soon," he said, his voice steady, his gaze flicking to the storm outside, as if expecting their allies to emerge from the tempest.
Celine sat quietly, her knees drawn up, her shivering hands clutching her damp clothes. Valmer's eyes softened as he turned to her, his chair creaking as he shifted. "What about you, Celine? Will you come with us?" he asked, his voice gentle, a contrast to the storm's fury.
Celine's eyes widened, her body trembling not just from the cold but from the weight of the question. She swallowed hard, then nodded, her voice firm despite her shakes. "Yes, I will," she said, determination flashing in her eyes, though her chattering teeth betrayed her fear.
Ariel reached out, touching Celine's arm, her voice soft but urgent. "You don't have to come, Celine. It'll be dangerous," she said, her eyes searching her friend's face, worry etched in her expression.
Celine managed a small smile, her hands tightening on her knees. "It's dangerous everywhere," she said, her voice steadying. "I don't have rich relatives to get me into a Safe Zone, so I might as well stick with you all." Her words carried a quiet resolve, her gaze meeting theirs.
Meanwhile, on planet Zoic, Zane finished preparing in his sparse room. The stone walls, etched with glowing runes, pulsed faintly, casting a luminous glow over his simple cot. Outside, a howling wind whipped through the craggy mountains, carrying the sharp tang of mineral dust and alien flora, a scent both strange and familiar after months of training.
Zane slung his pack over his shoulder, his boots echoing on the cold stone floor as he descended the narrow, winding stairs. His sharp features, hardened by training, were set with determination, his eyes glinting with resolve. He adjusted the bracer on his wrist, ready for the trials ahead.
In the hall below, Onilia stood lost in thought, her slender frame silhouetted against a massive arched window. The sky beyond cast an eerie glow on her blue skin, her silver hair shimmering like liquid starlight. Her eyes, usually sharp, were distant, clouded with unspoken worry. The hall's polished stone floor gleamed under the rune-light, its walls adorned with ancient tapestries depicting Zoic's history, its colors faded but fierce.
Zane approached, his steps steady, breaking her reverie. "I'm heading back now, Onilia," he said, his voice calm but firm, carrying over the wind's distant moan.
Onilia turned, her gaze meeting his, her lips parting but no words coming. She wanted to beg him to stay, to avoid the dangers of Earth's tutorial, but held back, her hands clenching at her sides. It would be selfish to chain him here.
"Take care," she said, her voice short, almost clipped, masking the ache in her chest.
Zane stepped closer, his calloused hand gently taking her right wrist. From his pocket, he drew a bracelet—simple, woven from dark cords and adorned with a single, polished stone that shimmered like a captured star. It was a treasure he'd cherished for years. With care, he wrapped it around her arm, the stone glinting under the rune-light.
Onilia's eyes widened as her fingers brushed the bracelet. "What's this?" she asked, her tone sharp, demanding an explanation, though her gaze softened.
Zane's lips curved into a rare, faint smile. "It's a gift," he said, his voice warm but steady. "You've always given me so much—knowledge, support. I don't forget those who wrong me, and I never forget those who help me. This bracelet is my promise: I'll repay your kindness someday." He met her gaze, his eyes earnest, then glanced at the bracelet, its stone catching the light.
Onilia stared at it, her fingers tracing the cords, a mix of surprise and warmth flickering across her face. "I didn't help you expecting anything back," she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. "But… thank you."
She straightened, her expression hardening with concern. "Be careful, Zane. Some Rankers like to meddle in tutorials, stirring trouble for sport," she warned, her silver hair swaying as she tilted her head, the wind's howl underscoring her words.
Zane nodded, his bracer humming faintly as he adjusted it. "Don't worry. With everything you've taught me about the system—its rules, its tricks—I'll be fine," he said, his voice brimming with quiet confidence.
A deep voice boomed from the doorway, cutting through the hall's hum. "Zane, come out! The Master's waiting," Instructor Marius called.
Zane turned, giving Onilia a final glance. "See you, Onilia," he said, his voice light but carrying a promise of return. He strode toward the door, his boots echoing, his pack bouncing slightly against his back.
Onilia's hand shot out, as if to grab him, her fingers trembling in the air before falling back to her side. She stood frozen, her eyes locked on the heavy stone door as it swung shut behind him, the sound reverberating like a somber bell. The hall felt emptier, the rune-light dimmer, as she stared at the bracelet, its stone a faint beacon in the gloom.
Outside, Zane descended the mountain with Instructor Marius, the wind tearing at their clothes, mineral dust stinging their faces. The path, carved into the cliff's jagged face, wound steeply downward, flanked by towering spires of black rock that gleamed like obsidian under the stormy sky. Lightning cracked, illuminating the distant valleys where alien flora glowed faintly, their bioluminescent fronds swaying in the gale.
Marius glanced at Zane, his weathered face cracking into a rare grin. "You know, your bold moves remind me of the First Son, the strongest of the five who completed training here," he said, his voice rumbling over the storm. "He bore the Zodiac sign of Cancer."
Zane's eyes narrowed, his steps steady despite the treacherous path, the wind whipping his hair.