Belle dusted her hands again and moved behind me, unhurried, as if blowing up half the colosseum had been part of a morning routine.
"Alright," she said, voice level. "Next exercise."
I didn't even bother pretending to be optimistic. "Oh, great. Can't wait to see how this one kills me."
"Sit still."Her hand came to rest against my back, warm and steady through the thin fabric of my shirt. "I'm going to force the mana in your body to move. It'll feel… unpleasant."
"Define unpleasant."
"Like being covered by ants."
"…Fantastic. You have such a talent for reassurance."
"Focus," she said simply, and the air hummed.
The warmth from her palm deepened, then spread. Threads of energy crawled through my body, slow at first, then faster, sharper, electric. My skin prickled. My bones vibrated. It wasn't pain, just a thousand invisible needles digging under my flesh.
"Now," Belle murmured. "Look inward. Find the warmth and pull it toward your hands."
I gritted my teeth, shutting my eyes. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Somewhere deep inside, I felt it, a flicker, faint and alive, like a coal waiting to breathe.
"I feel it," I rasped.
"Good. Guide it forward. Gently."
I obeyed, dragging that ember through invisible channels, coaxing it into my arm. The warmth surged, then blazed. My hand began to glow faintly, heat gathering in my fingers.
"I think it's working," I said through clenched teeth.
"Don't stop," Belle said. "Keep the flow steady."
But it wasn't steady. The heat spiked. The ember roared to life, expanding far too fast, like a dam bursting inside my veins.
"Belle," I said, voice tight. "Something's wrong—"
The world went white.
Pain detonated. A sound like thunder ripped through the air.
I screamed.
My vision swam. I was on the floor, clutching what was left of my arm, a bloody, ruined stump below the wrist. Steam hissed from the wound; blood spattered across the white tile in pulsing bursts.
My throat tore with the sound. "AHHHH FUCK MY HAND."
Every breath was fire. Every heartbeat another pulse of agony.
Belle's shadow moved over me. Her voice was calm, distant. "Hm. That's unfortunate."
She sighed, almost wistful. "Honestly… you're so loud."
"Die."
The sound rippled through the air, and reality shuddered.
The pain vanished. The smoke froze. Blood stopped mid-spill, each droplet hanging in the air like glass beads. Then, in reverse, the world rewound. Flesh and bone rewove themselves, tendons slithering back into place. The red receded, the heat faded, and my hand was whole again.
I gasped, shaking, staring at the perfectly intact skin.
"What… what did you…" My voice came out hoarse, trembling. "What did you do?"
Belle tilted her head, expression unreadable. "I killed the time period where your arm exploded."
I could barely breathe. My stomach churned; the memory of the pain still echoed through my nerves even though it was gone.
"You—" My voice cracked. "You killed time?"
She nodded lightly. "Yes. My will and affinity for death combined with Vespera allows for this."
I just sat there, staring at her. My hand shook - I shook. The phantom pain crawled under my skin, my body remembering what my mind couldn't process.
Belle smiled faintly, as if to reassure me. "Don't look so scared. You did well for a first attempt."
I laughed, a dry, half-hysterical sound. "I exploded!"
"Exactly," she said, almost proudly. "That means your flow was strong. You just lost control."
{Well,} Bastard murmured in my skull, voice low. {Congratulations, Seb. You've joined the prestigious One-Hand Club.}
I stared at my trembling fingers, the memory of fire still licking under my skin.
Belle straightened, dusting off her knees. "Again."
I looked up at her, eyes wide. "You're joking."
Her calm expression didn't falter. "No. And this time, try not to explode."
I didn't want to try again. My mind still remembered what my body had forgotten.
But Belle just stood there, calm, certain, as if blowing me apart was part of the curriculum.
"Focus," she said. "This time, guide it. Don't let it run wild."
I swallowed hard, forcing my hands to stop shaking. The phantom pain still lingered, a memory stitched into my bones.
"Right," I muttered. "No explosions. Great plan."
Belle placed her palm lightly against my back again. The warmth spread slowly this time, not as sharp as before. The air around us vibrated with faint static.
"Find the spark," she said quietly. "Breathe with it. Then pull."
I closed my eyes and reached inward. It came easier now, like my body remembered the path even if it hated the destination. The warmth stirred inside me, small but alive. I coaxed it upward, into my arm, through my wrist, into my hand.
Light gathered above my palm, faint at first, then growing until it glowed like a small, trembling sun. It wasn't stable. The edges shimmered, bending and collapsing in on themselves, like it couldn't decide what it wanted to be. But it was there. Real.
My breath caught. "I… I did it."
Belle smiled faintly. "Good. Now make it yours. Impose your will on it. Change that mana into your own affinity."
I stared at the wavering sphere floating above my palm. It pulsed like a living thing, unstable, trembling, refusing to stay in one shape for more than a heartbeat.
"Affinity, huh…" I muttered, almost to myself.
Belle didn't know what mine were. I hadn't told her. Not yet.Death. Life. Soulflames.
I could've started with Life, it would have been safer. Or Soulflames, that one always felt… strange. But no.There was only one that mattered right now.
The image of Belle saying a single word a killing time, space, and reality itself. That wasn't just power; it was artistry. I wanted that. I wanted mine to look like that.
I grinned faintly.
Alright, let's see how Death feels.
I focused on the orb. In my mind, I stripped the light away from it, piece by piece. I imagined the warmth draining, color fading, until only emptiness remained.
The white glow dimmed. The air around me grew heavier, colder.
A faint hum, low and uneven, began to ripple through the floor.
"Sebastian…" Belle's voice softened, uncertain. "What are you doing?"
I didn't answer. My heartbeat filled my ears, steady at first—then slowing, skipping, as if it too feared what I was touching.
The sphere darkened to gray, then to something deeper—like light dying. Shadows threaded through it, twisting like veins. A chill crawled up my arm, biting through skin and bone.
The floor beneath me frosted over in spiderweb cracks. My breath came out white.
"Sebastian," Belle said again, sharper this time. "Stop. Let it go. Now."
"I can handle it," I said through clenched teeth.
But I couldn't.
The orb pulsed, once, and the cold turned to pain.It wasn't a clean burn, it was rot, gnawing, unraveling me from the inside out.
"Sebastian!"
Too late.
The black sphere convulsed and collapsed inward, detonating with a dull, gut-wrenching whump.
My vision flashed white. The sound vanished. My entire arm felt like it had been hollowed out and filled with knives. The world tilted, the floor rushing up to meet me.
I dimly heard Belle moving, fast, the scrape of her boots, the sharp intake of breath.
Then her voice, clear and low, cutting through the ringing in my head.
"Die."
The pain vanished.
Just like that. The air rippled, and the agony, the frost, the burning cold, all of it rewound and disappeared, like it had never happened.
But I didn't have time to marvel at it. The world had already gone dark at the edges. My last sight was Belle kneeling beside me, her eyes unreadable, the faint shimmer of death vespera still dancing between her fingers.
Then everything faded.