LYRRISE'S POV...
The training field was nothing like a normal practice yard. It looked more like a battlefield—scorched earth, artificial Rift energies swirling, jagged stone terrain, and drones flying overhead projecting holographic Riftborns based on real field data.
This was the Crimson Arena, where elite squads trained to fight Riftborn as if it were real.
We were no longer a collection of misfits thrown together—we were officially a team.
Edric called it Team Zero. Not because we were weak. But because "zero" is the point of reset. The origin. The unknown."
And today? We were here to become killers of monsters.
"Begin Combat Simulation: Class B Riftborn Swarm."
The moment the signal echoed across the field, five red-tinged Riftborn projections emerged, their jagged, lean forms lunging across the terrain.
"Deyon! Front!" Cyril barked.
Deyon leapt forward like a wall in motion, slamming his katana into shield form and bracing just as two Riftborn charged him. Their claws scraped across his shield with a metallic scream, but he didn't flinch.
"I've got aggro!" he called, voice steady.
Team Dynamics Unleashed
From behind Deyon, Soryn knelt on one knee, already nocking an energy-tipped arrow to her transformed sniper bow.
"Target locked."
She fired—the glowing arrow pierced the Riftborn's neck mid-lunge, dropping it into static.
Kaelenna was a blur, sliding to the side of Deyon while typing commands into her gauntlet.
"Deploying kinetic traps. Healing pulse activated in 3… 2…"
A green ring of light pulsed outward from her boots, wrapping around Deyon, restoring his energy bar by half.
"Nice timing," he muttered.
Then it was me and Cyril.
We dashed in unison—his dual blades glinting, my katana drawn. One Riftborn tried to flank Deyon from behind, but I was already in front of it.
Slash. Parry. Step. Pivot. Stab.
Cyril and I moved like synced shadows, cutting down two more before they even reached the others.
Working as One
"Lyrrise, go right!" Cyril called.
I obeyed without hesitation, catching the last Riftborn mid-air with a glowing slash. Its body flickered, then shattered into static light.
The arena lights pulsed red, then blue—simulation complete.
Catching Our Breath
We all stood in the dust, breathing hard. Sweat clung to my forehead, but my heart was racing—not from exhaustion… but from exhilaration.
"That," Soryn said, stretching her arms, "was better than expected."
Deyon gave a small, content nod. "We're syncing faster than most new squads."
Kaelenna grinned. "That's 'cause we're not most squads."
I turned to Cyril, who was already wiping his blade clean. "We did good, huh?"
He looked at me for a long second, then gave a rare, small smile. "You're starting to feel like a soldier, not just a rank."
And Yet…
But as the team started gathering near the exit, I stayed behind for a second. The red training lights reminded me too much of the Bloody Dris, and the masked boy's words still echoed in my ears:
"You belong to us…"
"With those eyes, you'll attract them all."
I clenched my fist. Then I'll make them regret ever wanting me.
"Lyrrise?" Kaelenna called. "You coming?"
I turned with a nod and jogged to catch up with the others. We were strong—but we weren't ready. Not yet.
And I had a feeling… the real test was coming soon.
——
After training, my body was sore and my eyelids heavy. We had pushed ourselves to the limit—physically and mentally. For the first time in a long while, I collapsed into bed without hearing the hum of soul fire outside or feeling my own heartbeat race with nightmares.
But tonight… the dream didn't wait for me to fall asleep gently.
It dragged me into it.
When I opened my eyes, I was standing barefoot in an unfamiliar room. The air was heavy. Too heavy.
The walls were stained with crimson, not paint—but blood. The ground beneath me was cold, slick, and when I looked down… I saw bodies. Men, women, students… all collapsed, eyes open but lifeless.
Their uniforms were those of the academy.
My breath caught in my throat. I took a shaky step backward, the soles of my feet squelching in the blood. I wanted to scream, but my voice wouldn't come out.
Then I saw it—on the far wall, written in smeared blood:
"You can't outrun what you are."
My heart thundered. I turned, running toward the only source of light—a large, shattered window. I reached it and stopped dead.
Because standing there—half-shadowed by the blood-red moonlight—was him.
His mask gleamed silver, stained with dark crimson, the same clawed hand resting on the window frame. The Riftborn energy swirled faintly around him, pulsing like a heartbeat.
My legs froze. "No… you're not real. This is a dream."
He tilted his head, voice calm and disturbingly close.
"You keep saying that… and yet, we keep meeting."
I staggered backward, bumping into the cold, lifeless wall. I could feel the blood still dripping from the ceiling, hitting my skin.
"Why do you keep coming into my dreams?! What do you want from me?!"
He didn't move. Just stared at me. Then finally spoke:
"This isn't a dream, Lyrrise. It's… a memory."
My breath hitched. "A memory?"
His head tilted again, and for a moment, the red light flickered—revealing something even worse: the corpses in the room had changed. They were younger. Familiar. Kids. Classmates.
And then I saw it—myself—in the corner of the room, younger, blood on my hands.
"No… no, that's not possible!" I yelled.
The masked boy stepped closer now, eyes glowing behind the mask.
"You're not who you think you are. You never were."
He took one step forward—and the entire room shook. Blood poured faster. The lights flickered. His voice was the last thing I heard before I jolted awake:
"Soon… you'll remember everything."
I gasped and shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, breath ragged. My chest ached from how hard my heart was pounding. I stared at the ceiling of my dorm, hands trembling.
It was just a dream.
It had to be.
But then—
I heard the soft creak of the window behind me.
I turned slowly.
And there he was.
The masked boy, standing outside my window, one hand resting against the glass, looking at me.
Not fading.
Not disappearing.
Real.
And just before I could scream, he said one word through the glass—
"Soon."
I woke up with a gasp, heart thundering in my chest.
The window was closed. The room was quiet. No blood on the walls, no corpses. The eerie silence of early morning had replaced the horror that had just clawed through my mind.
It was just a dream.
I sat up, letting out a shaky breath. My hands trembled, but I hugged my knees and whispered, "Just a dream… just a dream…"
I looked toward the window. It was locked, the glass untouched. The red moon was gone, replaced with a pale sunrise. Birds were even chirping somewhere in the distance.
I chuckled weakly. "Gods… I'm losing it."
I slid off the bed and stood, stretching and trying to shake off the nightmare. Just as I turned around—
THUMP.
The window slammed open.
"GAAAH!" I screamed as the masked boy jumped in from the window, landing silently like a shadow with glowing eyes.
I fell backward, hitting the floor and scrambling away on my hands.
"You're real?! You—YOU'RE—!"
He tilted his head, watching me with that damn calmness.
Then—
he laughed.
Not a monstrous growl.
Not a glitchy Riftborn sound.
A full, genuine, amused laugh.
"Did you really think I'd leave after that cute little nightmare?" His voice was clear, mocking, dangerously human.
"You're not supposed to be here!" I shouted, still backing away, grabbing for the edge of my bed for balance.
"I'm not?" he asked casually, crouching by the window frame. "Well, that's awkward. Because here I am."
I reached for the emergency call orb on my nightstand, but before I could touch it—he raised a hand.
"No need for that," he said softly. "I'm not here to hurt you."
"Then what do you want from me?!"
He was quiet for a second. Then, almost gently—
"To remind you of what you are."
My hands froze mid-reach. He stood up, taking a step closer, just outside the sunlight spilling into the room.
"I'll be seeing you soon, Lyrrise."
And with a flick of his cloak—he vanished. No sound. No trace. Not even a whisper of energy. Like he'd never been there at all.
I was left panting on the floor, palms sweaty, heart racing like a drum in my chest.
But this time… I knew it wasn't a dream.
He was here.
In the Academy.
And he had gotten in again.
And worst of all?
He laughed.
Because now, it was a game to him.
——
I stood frozen, still shaking after the masked boy vanished from my dorm room window. My fingers hovered over the emergency orb… but I didn't press it.
Because a part of me—a terrifying, traitorous part—wanted him to come back.
And he did.
Only seconds later, the shadows in the corner of the room shifted—and there he was again. Like he never left.
His voice was calm, but his energy was anything but.
"Still breathing, huh?"
I backed away, still clutching my blanket like it would somehow shield me. "Why are you doing this?! What do you want?!"
He didn't answer. Just walked over to the window, looking out at the early dawn sky. Then, without turning around, he asked:
"Do you want to know my name?"
I froze. My lips parted, voice dry. "…Yes."
He turned to me, hand slowly reaching up to the side of his mask.
Click.
Hiss.
The mask came off.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
His features were sharp, almost regal, with pale skin kissed with faint crimson undertones that shimmered subtly beneath the light. His eyes—still glowing faintly red—were human-shaped, not monstrous, framed by long lashes and brows that angled with natural confidence. His lips curled into a half-smile, amused by my stunned silence.
He was… breathtaking. Not in the way a celebrity might be—but in the way that confused every emotion you've ever known.
I swallowed hard. "You're a Riftborn… and yet…"
He tilted his head. "Handsome?"
I blinked. "I—That's not what I—"
He chuckled softly, running a hand through his dark, crimson-streaked hair.
"My name is Rael."
He walked closer again—slow, casual. Not threatening. Almost… sincere.
"I came back to ask something," he said. "Let me stay. Just for a while. Not to fight. Not to hurt anyone. Just to be in this form… near you."
I blinked. "Stay? Are you insane? Cyril would kill you the moment he finds out!"
Rael didn't flinch. "I'm not afraid of Cyril."
I narrowed my eyes. "You should be."
He smirked, but the amusement faded. "Still… it would be nice. To stay."
I looked at him—really looked—and for the first time, there was sadness in his eyes.
A longing that even the Riftborn glow couldn't hide.
"You're not allowed to be here," I whispered. "If they see you, they'll kill you. Again."
Rael's smirk returned, this time tinged with something darker. "You mean when your dear Cyril stabbed me in the back?"
My heart skipped. "You died. I saw you fall."
"I did fall," he said casually. "But die?" He leaned closer, eyes flickering. "You forget what we are, Lyrrise. Riftborn don't die easy. Especially not the Eclipsed."
I stared. "…You're Eclipsed too?"
He nodded once. "The strongest of us. The first prototype that worked. Cyril might've been built to obey… I was made to evolve."
I stepped back, heart torn. His voice had that strange pull. Like he knew me better than I knew myself. But I shook my head.
"You can't stay," I said, more firm this time. "If they find you—if he finds you—it'll mean war inside these walls. I won't let that happen."
Rael's smile faded just slightly. He tucked his mask under his arm. "Then I'll be watching. From the edges. From the dark. Because whether you believe it or not…"
He looked straight into my eyes.
"You're not just like us, Lyrrise. You're one of us."
And before I could respond—he stepped into the shadows again. Gone.
I stood there, breath trembling, hands clenching the sides of my blanket.
Rael.
He's alive. He's Eclipsed. He's… watching me.
And worst of all?
A part of me didn't want him to stop.
The morning sun filtered through the dorm window as I sat quietly at the edge of my bed, still shaken from the night before. My body had recovered from training, but my mind hadn't caught up. I couldn't stop thinking about Rael.
His face.
His voice.
That damn laugh.
And worst of all—what he said before disappearing again.
"You're not just like us, Lyrrise. You're one of us."
I pressed my hands against my temples, groaning. "Nope. No more cryptic creep-ins. Not today."
I stood, crossed the room toward the closet to get my uniform, and—
"You look terrible this morning."
I jumped so hard I knocked over my chair.
"WHAT?!"
I spun around.
And there, sitting casually on my windowsill, was a sleek, black cat. Piercing crimson eyes. Tail flicking lazily. Looking way too comfortable in my room.
"Did… did that cat just talk?!"
The cat yawned. "Well, if you're going to be dramatic about it, I'll start meowing instead."
My jaw dropped.
The cat sat up straighter and gave me an almost smug look.
"Relax, it's still me. Rael. I thought this form would be less… threatening. You said I couldn't stay. But you didn't say I couldn't shift."
"You—You—You turned into a cat?!" I stammered, still stuck somewhere between disbelief and rage.
Rael flicked his tail. "It's a Riftborn trait. Shifting into lower lifeforms for stealth. Took me a while to compress my energy into something this... small."
I backed away, pointing. "You can't just shapeshift into a house pet and sneak into my room like it's normal!"
"I did ask to stay," he said, curling his tail around himself. "You said no. So, I got creative. This way, I don't get caught by your lovely protector, Cyril. He's not exactly fond of stabbing cats. I think."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're insane."
"Possibly," Rael said with a nonchalant stretch. "But I'm quiet, low-maintenance, and charming. The perfect roommate."
I pressed a pillow to my face and screamed into it. I have a shapeshifting Riftborn cat in my room. This is my life now.
Knock knock.
My door creaked.
"Lyrrise?" came Cyril's voice from the hallway. "You okay? You sounded like you were yelling."
My eyes widened. I turned slowly toward Rael, who was now licking his paw.
"Don't you dare move or speak," I whispered furiously.
Rael blinked, then meowed innocently. The most innocent, devil-of-an-actor meow I had ever heard.
I opened the door a crack. "Y-Yeah! Totally fine! I, uh… slipped on my socks!"
Cyril frowned. "...You don't wear socks."
"...Well, today I did!"
He raised a brow but eventually shrugged. "Alright. We're meeting the team in ten. Don't be late."
Once he walked off, I slammed the door shut and turned back to Rael, who had now curled up on my bed, tail flicking smugly.
"You're going to get me killed."
Rael purred. "Better me than your curiosity."