[Masha's POV]
I looked at Dante, at the hard lines of his face illuminated by the fire. He was an enigma, a puzzle of cruelty and logic that I couldn't solve. I had just laid my deepest fears at his feet, and his solution was to conquer this bloody world and call it home.
"This outworldly place is pissing me off," I admitted, my voice a low murmur of frustration. I hugged my knees tighter, trying to find some small comfort. "I don't understand how people are changing so fast. Every single one of them, it feels like they've forgotten we were ever the same. That we were classmates, that some of us were even friends."
My gaze drifted past the fire, to where Erica was sleeping fitfully in her bedroll. "And now… my best friend, Erica. She's changed most of all." I looked up at the canopy of leaves overhead, at the slivers of the twin moons peeking through. "You know, she was always too shy to make friends. She never wanted them, or so I thought. She was content to be alone, hidden away in the back of the class."
I paused, a secret bubbling up, a memory that seemed so innocent now, yet held the key to the fierce, obsessive person Erica had become. "Dante… promise me you won't tell anyone what I'm about to say. Especially not her."
He looked at me, his expression unreadable, but he gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "Umm, okay."
"One day," I began, my voice dropping to a whisper, "about a year ago, she came to me after class. She looked terrified, but determined. She asked me, 'Masha, please… tell me how to make friends.'"
Dante's brow furrowed slightly, the first hint of genuine confusion I'd seen from him all night.
"I was just as confused," I continued. "I asked her what it was all about. She had these pleading eyes, as if it was the most important question in the world. She hesitated for a long time, and then she said, 'I can't tell you who. But there's someone I want to understand. He's just… special. And I don't know how to even start.'"
I watched Dante's face carefully. I knew where this was going, but I pretended I didn't.
He looked away, back at the fire. "Okay. So she wanted to befriend someone." He was playing dumb, but his voice was a fraction too steady.
"It was more than that," I pressed on. "She wanted to understand him because he was always alone, just like her. She saw a kindred spirit, I think. She started following him. Not in a creepy way, but… she was studying him. Trying to figure out how to approach someone who didn't want to be approached."
I let the silence hang for a moment.
"She followed you, Dante," I said softly. "From college to your dorm. Then to that little cafe where you worked part-time. And then," I paused, a sad smile touching my lips, "she followed you to the orphanage."
His posture stiffened.
"She told me about it. She said she hid and watched you. And the person she saw there wasn't the cold, aloof boy from class. She saw you bringing gifts for the children, reading them stories. She saw you hold a genuine smile on your face, a lightness in your eyes that no one at college ever saw. It was as if…"
My words were cut short. From the darkness beyond our camp came a sudden, violent sound.
CLANG!
The unmistakable ring of steel on steel, followed instantly by a raw, agonized scream that was brutally cut off.
[Dante's POV]
The sound shattered the night. My body reacted before my mind did. I was on my feet, the exhaustion forgotten, replaced by a surge of cold, sharp adrenaline. Masha scrambled up beside me, her face pale with alarm.
"Masha," I said, my voice low and commanding. "Alert the others. Everyone gathers here, now. Full defensive formation. No one engages, no one moves from this camp. We regroup, then we assess the situation."
She nodded and sprinted toward the sleeping members of our team. I, however, was not content to wait. This was an opportunity. A chance to gather intelligence while others were distracted by bloodshed.
I moved away from the firelight, my feet making no sound on the damp earth. My shadow puppets, sensing my intent, detached from their guard positions and began to melt into the darkness around me, flanking me like silent, invisible hounds. I moved with a swift, practiced stealth, slipping through the massive trees.
The sounds of battle grew louder. Shouts, curses, the wet thud of blows landing on flesh, and the terrifying, high-pitched sizzle of magic. I reached the edge of a small, moonlit clearing and dropped into the concealment of a thick bush. What I saw was not a battle; it was a siege.
A small, organized team of seven was backed into a defensive circle, completely surrounded by a much larger group of at least twelve savage-looking students. The smaller team fought with practiced coordination, their gear well-maintained. The larger group fought with wild, brutish ferocity, their makeshift armor of leather and bone telling a story of pure survivalism.
"Nowhere to run, Leo!" roared the leader of the savages, a massive girl with a battle axe. "Your little tricks won't save you this time!"
"Better a smart rat than a brainless troll, Rhonda!" the leader of the smaller team, a nimble boy with twin daggers, shot back as he dodged a clumsy swing.
My eyes scanned the smaller team, cataloging them. The leader, Leo. A tank with a tower shield. A healer desperately trying to keep him standing. A lightning mage. And in the back, a quiet, unassuming boy who wasn't fighting at all. He was just watching. The Mimic.
A savage broke through the line, his club raised to crush the healer. Leo, the leader, used a skill—a short, instantaneous teleport, a Warpstep—to appear beside her, his daggers sinking into the savage's side. At the same moment, Rhonda, the axe-wielder, let out a roar, and a red aura enveloped her, a Berserker skill that amplified her strength.
The Mimic saw both. His eyes glowed with a faint silver light. A moment later, as another savage charged him, he vanished in a blur of motion, reappearing a few feet away. He had copied and used Warpstep. Then, as the savage charged again, the Mimic's body seemed to swell, the same red Berserker aura flaring around him. He snatched a fallen branch and swung it with unnatural force, smashing the savage in the face.
I felt a cold thrill. He didn't share power. He stole it for himself. He was a living arsenal, his abilities changing with every new skill he witnessed.
"Focus fire on Rhonda!" Leo commanded his team. "Break the head of the snake!"
His lightning mage unleashed a crackling bolt of energy. The Mimic, his Berserker aura fading, saw the spell. His own hands began to crackle, and he launched a second, identical lightning bolt. For a moment, it looked like it might work. The twin bolts of lightning screamed toward the savage leader.
"For the pack!" two of Rhonda's savages roared, leaping in front of her. They took the full force of the lightning, their bodies convulsing and charring as they were incinerated, but their sacrifice saved their leader.
Rhonda, her face a mask of pure fury, let out a grief-stricken howl. "You'll pay for that!" She ignored the tank in front of her and hurled her massive axe. It spun through the air like a giant throwing star. The lightning mage, his face frozen in shock, had no time to react. The axe blade slammed into his chest with enough force to sever his spine, pinning his corpse to a tree.
The loss of their primary offensive caster shattered the smaller team's formation.
"Anya!" Leo screamed as a savage finally broke through and slammed his club into the healer's side. She crumpled, her healing light sputtering out.
The tank roared in fury and charged, but he was immediately swarmed by three savages, their clubs and axes raining down on his shield until it splintered and he was brought down.
The battle had collapsed into a slaughter. Now, only two of them were left. The leader, Leo, bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts, stood back-to-back with the Mimic. They were surrounded, their faces pale with the certainty of their own deaths.
The Mimic's eyes darted around the clearing, desperately looking for a new skill to copy, a new trick to steal. But all he saw was the savage, overwhelming force of the enemy closing in. He was a library of stolen power, trapped in a burning building.
I watched from the shadows, a cold, analytical predator. I saw the potential. I saw the limitations. And as Rhonda and her remaining nine savages raised their weapons for the final kill, my mind was already calculating the most efficient way to acquire my new, priceless asset.