Trisha was pacing like a cat trapped in a glass box—silent, sleek, and internally screaming.
Her boots made soft thuds on the marble floor of her absurdly oversized bedroom, as if trying not to wake the ghosts of all the dead conversations she'd had here. The chandelier above swung lightly as she passed beneath it for the sixth time, like even it was dizzy from her internal monologue.
She had spoken with her father after they brought Alexandre back to his hotel—well, dragged, more like—but their "civilized" conversation had ended with her father clutching his chest like a melodramatic telenovela star and shouting, "You're marrying a stranger with military boots and zero background check?!"
She had simply raised a brow and replied, "Better than marrying one of your political donors' inbred sons, Dad."
The real storm, however, was yet to come. At breakfast, they were all scheduled to face the family tribunal: her mother—a woman so proper she could turn a handshake into a royal inquisition—her two elder brothers, who thought protecting her meant tracking her phone like she was a wayward Labrador, and her "delightful" stepmother, who always looked like she smelled something rotting when Trisha entered the room.
They would tear her apart.
And they might kill Alex. Or try to.
Meeting another awakened has been her goal for the past two weeks since that night. She had been very grateful for what happened to her, thinking that this must be the gift that God prepared for her after all the frustrating events in her life.
She even tried visiting different provinces with her father in his never-ending political campaign. They thought she was finally showing signs of interest in their "family business," but all she wanted was to scan all the people that they met, only to be disappointed that no one actually showed some sign. She's starting to think that she might be the only one awakened in this country. But she is already planning to go to Manila and other parts of the archipelago; finding another awakened is the first quest given by the sentient, after all. She must complete it.
But destiny seems to be kind to her, bringing Alex to her doorstep. She had studied him from a distance in the bar, and she felt the energy coming from him. When the sentient confirmed that he is an awakened, she made up her mind to use him in her plan to get away from this place.
She stopped pacing, exhaled slowly, and stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror. "No," she whispered. "I'm not waiting for morning."
Trisha had been a rebellious soul long before she was an awakened Assassin.
As a child, she'd once climbed the tallest mango tree in their backyard just to escape a boring etiquette class. She lived in a world of rules and cameras, the "princess" of Davao, but she'd never felt like one. While her siblings posed for press photos and recited rehearsed lines at charity events, Trisha was behind the scenes, hacking into her school's grade database just to prove it could be done.
Then came the Awakening.
When the broadcast of the Sentients surged through the air, she was in the middle of a shower, singing K-pop at the top of her lungs with shampoo in her eyes.
By the time she realized what was happening, she was already glowing like a lightbulb.
But unlike the epic stories she read online of people slaying wild beasts and leveling up like anime protagonists, Trisha's first kill was… less heroic.
The only thing she could see when she burst out of her bathroom—wrapped in a towel and vibrating with cosmic energy—was her pet cat licking itself on the windowsill.
She almost sacrificed it, honestly.
But then she saw a hairy little spider on the ceiling. Smash. That was her first DNA point. She got the wall-climbing ability.
Then, in an emotional crisis and still half-soapy, she hugged her cat and spotted a flea nestled near its neck. Squish. Second point.
From that tiny parasite, she gained the ability to leap high. Really high.
And a super strong skeleton that can withstand ultrahigh pressure.
When asked by the Sentient to choose her class, she didn't even blink—Assassin, obviously. Always Assassin. She'd been one in every MMORPG since she could hold a controller. It's also one of her motivations for why she pursued martial arts; having a black belt in both taekwondo and karate has been very handy in her nightly adventures.
But this wasn't a game. In real life, she learned quickly; there were no tutorial quests. No NPCs. No easy XP. Just a girl in a fortress-like mansion with cameras in every hallway and a growing urge to jump off roofs and stab monsters.
Trisha took a deep breath as she closed her eyes to focus on her current stats.
Name: Patricia Duarte
Race: Human (Evolved)
Age: 19
Class: Assassin
Health : 200/200
Energy : 150/150
STATS:
Strength : 20 = 20
Wisdom : 12 = 12
Agility : 15 (x5) = 75
Constitution : 15 (x5) = 75
Intelligence : 15 = 15
Perception : 10 (x5) = 50
Vitality : 12 (x3) = 36
Stamina : 18 = 18
Acquired Abilities through DNA Integration:
Wall Climbing (Adhesive hands and feet)
High leap (200x body length)
Uncrushable bone
Ancestor's Blessing: Dark Element
Assassin Class Skills:
Dagger Mastery (Advanced)
Shadow blend
Sneak attack
Ambush
High Evasion (Passive)
Critical Damage (Passive)
Stealthy (Passive)
Lightfoot (Passive)
Current Mission:
"Survive. Discover the other Chosen." – Completed
Reward: New Skill—Burst Damage
Meeting Alex has completed her mission, giving her a new skill as a reward. It looks like that guy is really a heaven-sent.
Tonight, the city was quiet. Too quiet for what Trisha was about to do.
Dressed in sleek black gear, complete with twin hidden blades and a custom utility belt—she called it her "Batgirl Starter Kit"—she stood by her window, her fingers dancing across the security keypad.
"Override. Silent mode. Code: Tiger Claws," she muttered.
A soft beep confirmed her success. The window eased open without a creak. She glanced back once at her massive bed, its pillows stacked like cakes at a five-star buffet, then at the framed family portraits on the wall.
"Sorry, guys," she whispered. "I'm not a trophy."
And with that, she leaped.
The wind bit at her cheeks as she landed nimbly on the balcony below, then on the rooftop beyond it. She crouched low, her pulse steady. Her Assassin class came with natural agility, shadow blend, and enhanced reflexes. But still—she was rusty. Practice and watching anime were not the same as real-world escape.
She sprinted across the roof tiles, then bounded like a gazelle onto the next building. Her legs compressed, then launched her skyward—one floor, two floors—until she caught the edge of a tall communications tower and climbed to the top in seconds.
There she paused, her raven-black hair fluttering in the breeze like a superhero's cape. Below, Davao City glowed in a mix of neon signs, lamp-lit streets, and late-night karaoke echoes.
And far in the distance, to the west, stood the hotel where Alex was staying. Probably asleep. Or training. Or sharpening some ridiculously ancient sword like an anime protagonist. She smirked.
"Time to crash your night, mystery man."
Then, she leapt again—silent, focused, powerful.
Whatever happened tomorrow, whether it was wedding bells or war cries, she was done playing princess.