Max hauled himself up through the rusted grate and into the night air, collapsing onto the dew-soaked grass behind the school.
[ Essence Stored: Dark Essence (57) ]
For a moment he just lay there, chest heaving, the stink of the sewer still clinging to his clothes. His arms trembled from the climb, and the weight of the weapon strapped across his back felt heavier than ever like it was judging him, humming with its own restless energy.
[Im pretty sure that weapon can shapeshift to fit the user once you get stronger.] Raven said looking around where max surfaced.
He pushed himself to his feet.
"Where am I anyway? This is the school still?"
The courtyard was empty. The school's windows glowed faintly from the lingering evening lights inside, but everything else was swallowed in shadows. Max adjusted the strap of the weapon, the one he had stolen… or maybe inherited? He wasn't totally sure anymore. All he knew was that it wasn't normal. It whispered sometimes. It moved differently in his hands. And sometimes it felt alive wanting to devour his very soul.
A crunch of gravel behind him froze his breath.
Max spun around.
A hooded figure stood at the edge of the courtyard, half-masked by darkness. Same height, same build as before. Max's pulse hammered. It was him. The man he'd seen before he was thrown deep beneath the school. The one who'd dropped the weapon in the chaos with him and the one Max knew was coming to reclaim it.
But instead of anger, the man only tilted his head, as if studying Max.
"So," the hooded man said, voice low and rough. "You found your way out alive. And you kept it."
Max swallowed hard. "If you want it back…"
"I didn't come to take it," the man said. "I came to see if you were worthy of it."
Max blinked. "…Worthy?"
Raven whispered to max. [I think I'll sit this one out. Goodluck.] she giggled.
The man stepped forward, moonlight catching the faint metal clasp on his gloves. "That weapon chose you in the end. If it didn't want to be used by you then I guess you would be dead already. I don't get to argue with it. But if you're going to wield it, you're going to learn how. Otherwise it will destroy you long before anything else gets the chance."
Max hesitated. "You're… offering to train me?"
"No," the man said. "I'm telling you your training begins now."
He reached out and tapped the weapon on Max's back.
"Draw it."
"But—"
"Draw. It."
Max pulled the weapon free. The metal hummed at his touch with recognition.
The hooded man nodded once. "Good. Now let's see if you can actually fight with it."
He dropped into a stance Max didn't recognize it was balanced, loose, deadly.
"First lesson," the man said. "Never assume the person in front of you is your enemy. But also never assume they're your friend."
Then he lunged.