(David POV)
I calmed my mind and lowered my breath, letting the world shrink until it was only the quiet inside me.
The evening wind slid across my skin, soft and cold, brushing through me like fingers tracing an old scar.
For a moment, I let it steady me. Relax me. Empty me.
I reached inward, searching for that path that led to my soul, the same path that nearly destroyed me last time.
My emotions were the key, and the lock, and the danger.
So I gathered them, piece by piece… anger, fear, confusion… all of them circling like shadows waiting to bite.
Minutes passed.
Nothing.
No spark.
No warmth.
No connection.
Just silence.
Frustration crawled up my throat, tightening everything inside me.
I almost opened my eyes, almost cursed under my breath, until I heard him.
Lazarus.
His voice came steady, calm, unshaken.
"Concentrate on your emotions… and take control of them."
Those words didn't shout. They didn't command.
They simply held me.
And somehow… they gave me just enough strength to push deeper.
I took a deep breath and gathered every emotion inside me, all of it.
The fear.
The anger.
The confusion.
The pieces of myself I kept running from.
They rose like a storm inside my chest, building pressure until a burning sensation spread through me. Not painful… but powerful. A signal. A door.
And then I saw it, the path.
Clear. Straight. Waiting.
I stepped through.
In an instant, I was back in that room again.
The empty darkness.
The cold silence.
The space inside my soul that felt weird.
But this time… there were no chains on me.
Instead, there was him.
A figure stood before me, shaped like a man, but carved from shadow. No face, no features. Only darkness given form. Chains wrapped around his wrists, not restraining him… but hanging loosely, like he was choosing to hold them.
It lifted its hand toward me.
My heart tightened.
I remembered the last time I touched it, the loss of control, the rage, the power that nearly tore me apart.
"Who are you?" I asked.
No answer.
Just that silent, outstretched hand.
I closed my eyes.
Steadied my breath.
I knew what this meant.
What I had to do.
Strengthen my mind.
Focus.
Control.
Slowly… carefully… I raised my hand toward its shadowed palm.
As our hands were about to meet, doubt struck me like a blade slipping between ribs.
What if I fail?
What if I lose control again?
What if this thing inside me destroys everything... again?
The fear clawed up my throat.
But then I heard his voice, Lazarus, steady, unshaken, echoing in the back of my mind:
"Never lose hope."
My fear loosened its grip.
My spirit steadied.
I forced my shaking hand forward.
When my palm finally touched the shadow's, the world inside me froze.
A cold, savage energy rushed through me, feral, endless, the same presence that once tore through my body like a storm. It felt like standing in the eye of destruction, and for a heartbeat… I panicked.
Its grip tightened. Mine did too.
The two of us stood there, man and shadow, locked together.
The cold tried to consume me, swallow me whole, drag me back into chaos.
But this time, I didn't run.
Focus.
Take control.
I repeated the words over and over, like a shield.
My breath lowered.
My heartbeat steadied.
My mind sharpened.
Slowly… painfully… I felt the raging energy inside me begin to soften, then settle, then bend, not in dominance…
…but in surrender.
The shadow released my hand.
No words.
No sound.
It simply stepped back into the dim, as if testing me… or acknowledging me.
I turned away from it, following the faint path that led out of that inner realm. With each step, the world around me faded, until the weight of my thoughts, my breath, my body pulled me back.
My eyes opened.
Lazarus was standing right in front of me, his face lit with an excitement I'd never seen from him before. A genuine smile, wide and proud.
"Well done, David," he said, his voice almost trembling with joy.
"You did it. You've taken control of your soul. Now the energy flows through your body by your will."
I looked down at my hands.
Warmth.
Pressure.
A pulse of power moving inside my muscles like living fire, calm, steady, no longer wild.
It felt… incredible.
Lazarus stepped closer, placing a hand near my shoulder. A soft wave of energy radiated from him, controlled, firm, familiar.
And I felt it.
Just as he felt mine.
"This," he said with a gentle nod, "is presence. The signature of one's soul."
Our energies brushed against each other, two currents, acknowledging.
For the first time… my own didn't frighten me.
Lazarus bent down and lifted a massive block of wood, thick enough that even seasoned hunters would need several strikes to split it. He placed it upright in front of me.
"Use the axe," he said.
"One strike."
One strike?
That was… impossible.
But after what just happened inside my soul, part of me wanted to test this new power flowing in my veins.
I tightened my grip on the axe. The handle felt lighter than before, almost too light. I planted my feet, inhaled slowly, and lifted the blade above my head. Lazarus stood at my side, arms crossed, studying me with that unreadable calm of his.
I swung.
The moment the axe came down, power surged through my body—clean, precise, overwhelming. The blade hit the wood and the entire block exploded into splinters.
Not split.
Not cracked.
Shattered.
The force traveled through the stump and into the ground. I heard stone break beneath it, a sharp crack echoing under my boots.
I froze, staring at the mess.
What… was that?
My breath caught in my chest. My arms trembled slightly, not from fear, but from shock.
My strength… had multiplied.
I looked at Lazarus.
He wasn't shocked.
Not even a little.
He just nodded, as if this was exactly what he expected.
"Good," he said softly, eyes still on the shattered stone.
"Your control is beginning."
I didn't know whether to feel proud… or terrified.
He watched the shattered wood and cracked stone at my feet, then glanced back at me.
"Because of the energy flowing through your body," Lazarus said, "your human abilities have increased greatly. Your strength… your speed… everything is rising."
I turned to the broken pieces around us, splinters scattered like dust, stone cracked from a single strike and for a moment my mind couldn't keep up with what my eyes were seeing.
This is me?
Lazarus bent down, picked up a few small stones, and rolled them in his palm with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Let's test something."
He flicked one stone at me, fast, quicker than any thrown object should move.
Before I could think, my body reacted.
I shifted to the side, almost effortlessly, and the stone shot past my face.
I blinked.
He threw another.
Then another.
Then three more.
And each time, without strategy, without planning, my body slipped out of the way. Smooth. Instinctive. Almost… natural.
I stared at my hands as the last stone bounced harmlessly behind me.
"That," Lazarus said, stepping closer, "is only a glimpse of what your power offers."
He turned and began walking.
"Follow me." he said
I did.
We moved through the trees until the faint roar of water reached my ears. Then the river opened before us, clear, running strong, reflecting the dying orange of the sun. The sound was… calming, the most peaceful thing I'd heard all day.
For a moment I just stood there, watching the sun sink lower, painting the sky in fading gold.
When I turned, Lazarus was already beside two large rocks near the water's edge. He didn't speak. He just stood there, his hand resting on one of the stones, waiting.
I stepped beside him.
We both stared silently at the rocks, the river whispering behind us, the world holding its breath.
He turned to me and said a single word.
"Break it."
I followed his gaze to the massive rock before us stood a thick, old, unmoving, like something carved from the bones of the earth. It felt… impossible. Even with the strange power flooding through me, even with the cold shadow still coiled somewhere in my veins, whispering its quiet hum, I couldn't see myself shattering something like that.
"I… I can't break it," I said. "It looks impossible."
Lazarus didn't argue. He only smiled, soft, knowing—like someone who had already read the end of a story I hadn't even begun.
He stepped forward, placed his feet, and clenched his fist. I watched the muscles in his arm tighten, watched the calm in his eyes sharpen into something fierce.
Then, with a single punch
the rock exploded.
Not cracked.
Not split.
It broke. Completely. Fragments scattered across the dirt, scattering like fleeing birds. Dust lifted in a soft grey cloud around us.
The echo of his strike trembled through the ground… and through me.
Lazarus relaxed his hand and turned back to me, his voice quiet but heavy with meaning.
"That," he said, "is what power becomes when doubt dies."