The girl didn't move.
Her white hair danced in the windless air. The sword hovered between them, pulsing with an angry light. For a moment, Coker thought she was just a shadow pretending to be human.
Then she blinked.
And the world shifted.
Suddenly, Coker was on his knees. Not from pain—but pressure. Like the sky itself was pushing down on him. His breath caught in his throat. His heart thundered. The power inside him flared wildly, trying to fight it.
She hadn't touched him.
"Do you feel that?" she asked calmly. "That's what real fear tastes like."
Coker's fingers dug into the ground.
"Why… are you doing this?" he forced out.
The girl tilted her head. "Because if you don't die now, you'll end everything."
The sword rose higher. The ground cracked beneath it.
Coker's vision blurred. His chest burned again, deeper now. Like something inside was waking… but not in rage. In *hunger*.
The voice in his head returned.
"Let me out."
"No," Coker whispered.
The girl raised her hand—and the sword shot forward.
Time slowed.
Coker saw it all: the blade spinning toward him, the dust rising, the trees bowing. He saw her eyes—sad, determined, afraid. And he saw the future.
Fire. Darkness. His own hand breaking the world in two.
"I'm sorry," he said.
And the Hunger answered.
---
A scream tore through the valley.
But it wasn't fear.
It was *release*.
Coker's body lit up from the inside—veins of black fire crawling through his skin. His eyes glowed. The sword stopped inches from his chest, held in place by an invisible wall.
The girl stumbled back, eyes wide.
"That's not possible—"
Coker stood slowly.
"I told you," he said, voice deeper, layered. "I wasn't supposed to die."
The air bent around him. The bones on the field began to shake. The sword dropped, no longer resisting.
The girl backed away. "You've already begun…"
Coker stepped forward. With each step, the battlefield changed. Bones turned to ash. The sky turned dark red.
The Hunger was not hiding anymore.
---
In a high temple above the shattered sea, bells rang without being touched.
A priest awoke, gasping.
"He has chosen the path."
His fellow priests gathered around. "Which one?"
The old man closed his eyes.
"Not the hero. Not the destroyer."
"Then what?"
"The blade."
---
Back in the field, the girl knelt, head bowed. Not in worship—but in fear.
"Kill me now," she said.
Coker frowned. "Why would I do that?"
"You don't understand. If I live, I'll have to fight you again. They'll make me. I won't have a choice."
Coker lowered his head. "Then I won't give them the chance."
He reached down and touched her shoulder.
A spark jumped from him to her.
Her eyes widened. "What did you do?"
"I gave you a choice."
The sword cracked. It dissolved into black dust.
And the valley… vanished.
---
Mina screamed.
The rock in her hand shattered.
Drell caught her before she fell. "What happened?"
"I saw him," she whispered. "I saw everything. He… changed."
Drell looked at the horizon.
"What did he become?"
She looked up, tears falling.
"Something new."
---
In a distant land, an old warrior dropped his cup.
He turned to his apprentice. "The blade has returned."
"The blade?"
"The one that cuts fate itself."
---
Coker stood alone in the now-empty field.
The girl was gone. The sword was gone. But something else had stayed.
A mark.
On his chest.
It looked like a scar—but it pulsed like a heartbeat.
He touched it. It didn't hurt.
But it felt… real.
And he knew, for the first time, that he wasn't just carrying power.
He was becoming it.
The Hunger was no longer separate.
It was him.
And whatever came next…
He would not run.
He would not hide.
He would become the blade between worlds.
The line between salvation and ruin.
The boy who should've died was now the one thing the world could not ignore.