"What..." he whispered, his voice trembling. "...what happened?"
The hall, once roaring with the clamor of battle, was now deathly silent, leaving only the groans of dying soldiers and the pungent, coppery smell of blood. Aris knelt in the middle of the horrific scene, surrounded by mangled bodies and the lifeless rubble of the Golem. The few soldiers who could still crawl had already fled for their lives, leaving their weapons and courage behind on the blood-soaked stone floor.
The silence was broken by a pained cough. Near a cracked pillar, Viren struggled to push himself into a sitting position. He hadn't been unconscious, not completely. His body had been paralyzed by the Golem's blow, forcing him to be a front-row spectator to the hell Aris had just unleashed. His emerald eyes stared at Aris, no longer with hatred, but with a mixture of horror and deep wariness. He had seen it all: the change in Aris's eyes, the arrogant smile that wasn't his, and the emotionless slaughter that followed.
"You..." Viren began, his voice hoarse and trembling. "That... that wasn't you."
Aris looked at him, confused, trying to process Viren's words and the scene around him. His memory was a blur, leaving only the echo of an immense power and a terrifying sense of superiority. He looked down at his blood-soaked hands—other people's blood—and a wave of nausea hit him.
But before he could answer, the side effects of the power he had just borrowed began to demand their price.
The overwhelming exhaustion was just the beginning. Suddenly, a searing pain exploded from within his body. The silvery-white Origin Power that usually flowed obediently now churned wildly inside him, spiraling out of control. It felt like a boiling river of ice flowing through his veins, tearing him apart from the inside. His muscles, forced to move beyond their limits, now felt like they were being pulled and ripped apart simultaneously.
"AAAAARRRGGHHH!"
A scream of pure, unadulterated agony tore from Aris's throat, echoing throughout the hall. He clutched his chest, his body convulsing on the floor. The silvery-white energy enveloped him, flickering erratically, sometimes blazing brightly, sometimes nearly extinguished. It was a terrifying sight—his own life force rebelling against him.
Viren could only watch, horrified and helpless. The monster that had just slaughtered dozens of soldiers was now writhing in pain like a wounded animal.
"That's enough playing around, you two."
A calm woman's voice came from above. From the shadows of the balcony, Lyra leaped down soundlessly, landing lightly amidst the chaos. Her professional expression cracked slightly upon seeing Aris's condition, but she quickly composed herself.
"Just as I expected, you managed to make a huge mess," she said, her tone flat.
She knelt beside Aris, ignoring Viren for the moment. She placed two fingers on Aris's neck, feeling the chaotic surge of energy. "Damn. His body is taking a massive backlash. He could die if this continues."
Viren snarled. "You! You were following us! Juro knew this was a trap!"
"Of course he knew," Lyra replied without looking up. "This mission had two objectives. First, stop Baron Kale. Second, see how you two, our unstable new assets, react under extreme pressure. Congratulations, you passed in the most troublesome way possible."
Lyra then looked at Aris, whose groans were weakening. Her eyes narrowed. "And you... the report on you is going to be very long."
Aris's screams turned into soft whimpers before his eyes finally closed and his body went limp, having passed out from the unbearable pain.
Lyra sighed, now turning to Viren. "Can you stand?"
Viren tried, but the pain in his ribs forced him back down. "Probably not."
Lyra surveyed the ruined hall, the two helpless young men, and the mystery that had just been unveiled. Her observation mission had turned into a rescue mission. "Alright," she said, pulling a small whistle from her pocket. "Plan B."
She blew the whistle, producing a high-pitched tone almost inaudible to the human ear. A few moments later, two other robed figures emerged from the shadows.
"Take them both," Lyra commanded. "We're leaving before the Baron's reinforcements arrive."
As one of the agents lifted Aris's unconscious body, Viren stared at his rival's peaceful face. The question "what happened" now felt far more terrifying, and for the first time, Viren felt that his hatred for Aris might be the most insignificant thing in the world he had just witnessed.
The journey back to the Veritas headquarters was a blur for Viren. The pain from his cracked ribs kept him in a state of semi-consciousness. But when they arrived at the underground medical bay, he forced himself to stay awake. An old healer named Elara skillfully tended to his wounds, applying a strange-smelling ointment that felt cool on his skin.
On the bed opposite, Aris lay motionless. His face was deathly pale, and Elara seemed far busier with him. The healer wasn't using ointments, but rather thin silver needles that she inserted at several points on Aris's body, trying to calm the Origin Power that was still raging beneath his skin.
"How is he?" Viren asked, his voice hoarse.
Elara turned, her wise eyes studying Viren for a moment. "Your physical wounds will heal in a few days. But him... his wounds are internal. Something has torn his energy network. I've stabilized him, but he'll need a long time to recover."
Two days later, Aris finally regained consciousness. He woke up to a dull ache all over his body, as if every muscle had been stretched to its breaking point. He found himself in a small, simple room. Viren sat in a chair in the corner, his arm bandaged, watching him with an unreadable expression.
Before either of them could speak, the door opened and Juro entered, followed by Lyra.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Juro said without preamble. "Now, it's time for a debrief."
They gathered in a small meeting room. Lyra gave a brief and efficient report. "Mission successful. Baron Kale's smuggling operation is completely crippled. The artifact—the Guardian Golem—has been destroyed. However, both agents sustained serious injuries and nearly failed."
Juro nodded, then looked at Viren. "Tell me what you saw."
Viren hesitated for a moment, then recounted everything with surprising detail: the change in Aris's eyes from blue to gold, the arrogant smile, the different voice, and the way he had slaughtered the soldiers and the Golem with incomprehensible power.
Aris listened in horror, as if hearing a story about a stranger. It had happened to him, but he had no memory of it at all.
After Viren finished, Juro leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping the table. "As I suspected. That wasn't Origin Power."
"Then what was it?" Aris asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"I don't know for sure yet," Juro said, his eyes fixed on Aris. "But I have a theory. There are other forms of power, similar to what the gods we know use. Powers that lie dormant within certain bloodlines. Perhaps... you've just awakened something that should have stayed asleep, but I don't remember the Ceans ever mentioning anything about this."
Juro stood up. "From this day forward, you are under special observation, Aris. Every one of your training sessions will be monitored. We need to find out what that power is and whether you can control it. Or... whether it will be the one to control you."
Juro and Lyra left the room, leaving Aris and Viren in a heavy silence. Aris looked at his hands, feeling afraid of himself for the first time. He was no longer just a fallen nobleman or a rookie mercenary. He was a vessel for something he didn't understand, something brutal and terrifying.
Viren looked at him, the hatred in his eyes had faded, replaced by something else—wariness, curiosity, and perhaps... a little bit of fear. Their rivalry had now turned into something far more complex.