The morning bell clanged, pulling the recruits from their beds. Their bodies ached, but the instructors didn't care. Pain was part of the rhythm now, as constant as breathing.
Today, the recruits were marched not to the training hall, but to the arena.
The arena wasn't like the sparring grounds where Luna had been humiliated by Kai. This one was bigger, colder, the concrete stained with old blood. A circular steel cage loomed in the center, its bars slick with rust.
The instructor's voice rang out, sharp as a blade:
"Today, you fight. Not for drills. Not for rank. You fight for survival."
A murmur rippled through the recruits.
Luna's pulse quickened.
She had seen fights before—but never like this.
Pairs of recruits were shoved into the cage. Some fought with desperate ferocity, others with hesitation that cost them dearly. There were no rules. Only the demand to stand until your opponent fell.
Luna's stomach twisted as one boy was beaten unconscious, his limp body dragged out like trash. Another girl, trembling and too slow, had her arm snapped at the elbow.
The message was clear: mercy had no place here.
When Luna's name was called, her chest tightened.
Her opponent was not Kai, but a wiry girl named Sora. She was fast, with sharp eyes and a cruel smirk. Rumors said she'd already broken two boys' ribs in practice.
The cage door slammed shut behind them.
The horn blared.
Sora moved first—quick as a whip, lunging low with a kick to Luna's knee. Pain flared through Luna's leg, sending her stumbling. Before she could recover, Sora slammed an elbow into her ribs.
The crowd of recruits roared.
Luna gasped, clutching her side. For a moment, panic gripped her. She was back in the darkness, surrounded by shadows, helpless.
But then, the whispers came. The ones born in the Black Room.
Weak. Worthless. Nothing.
Her fear hardened into rage.
Luna steadied her stance, eyes narrowing. When Sora lunged again, she twisted, letting the girl's momentum carry her past. With a grunt, Luna slammed her fist into Sora's jaw.
The impact rattled up her arm—but it worked. Sora staggered, her smirk wiped away.
Something in Luna snapped free.
She pressed forward, blow after blow, every strike fueled by the years of torment, by every cruel word, by every shadow that told her she couldn't survive.
Sora tried to fight back, but Luna was relentless. At last, with one brutal kick, Luna sent her sprawling to the ground.
The horn blared again.
The fight was over.
The crowd was silent.
Luna stood there, chest heaving, her fists still trembling. She had won. Not with skill—not yet—but with something more dangerous: sheer will.
The instructor's voice rang out, flat but carrying a note of approval.
"Not elegant. But effective. She survives."
The cage door opened. Luna stepped out, her eyes scanning the recruits.
Some looked at her with respect. Others with fear.
But Kai—Kai's eyes held something different. Not mockery this time. Not dismissal.
Recognition.
---
That night, while the recruits ate in silence, a boy slid into the seat across from her. He was lean, with dark hair that fell into his eyes. His name was Jax—she had seen him before, quiet and watchful.
"You fight like you've got nothing to lose," he said softly.
Luna frowned. "Maybe I don't."
Jax studied her for a moment, then nodded. "That's the kind of fire that keeps people alive in this place. Stick with me, and maybe we'll both make it through."
For the first time since entering the House of Shadows, Luna felt something dangerous stirring inside her chest.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Something she hadn't let herself feel in a long time.
Hope.