Perspective: Alessio Leone
The previous day had been… wild.
And Alessio didn't think that just because of what he and Sith had done — although, honestly, it was hard to find a better word to describe what had happened between them than wild.
No.
The word fit everything that day had represented.
Every instant.
Every breath.
Every decision.
From start to finish, everything seemed shaped by the same primal instinct now pulsing within him.
Take his way of fighting, for example — the very thing that had once been his pride and signature.
It had proven useless against an enemy who understood nothing but brute force.
His defensive style — methodical, studied, refined — had always been an extension of himself.
A reflection of the rational man, the veteran player, the strategist who had spent ten years living by one rule: control.
He knew how to defend.
How to measure attacks, calculate timing, anticipate damage.
He was a warrior who survived with his mind, not his muscles.
But in the savanna… that wasn't enough.
Against the invading lion, every calculation failed.
Every dodge, every block, every retreat only fueled the beast's fury.
It was as if the mere act of stepping back branded him as prey.
As if, with every hesitation, the other lion grew stronger — more enraged, more exhilarated by the promise of domination.
That creature was driven by the certainty of victory — and the blood dripping from its fangs seemed to roar that truth aloud.
And Alessio, despite all his experience, didn't know what to do.
You don't break a lifetime's habits in a few minutes.
You don't abandon ten years of instinct for defense simply because you realize it no longer works.
And because of that, he fell.
Hard.
Heavy.
Wounded.
And for an instant, he believed that was the end.
For one fleeting second, he accepted that his test was over.
That he had failed.
That he would be remembered only as another player unable to ignite his Essence.
But then… something changed.
The invader stopped looking at him.
And turned toward Sith.
That image burned itself into his memory like fire — the other lion advancing slowly, fangs bared, eyes filled with the same primal hunger Alessio himself had been fighting to contain.
And in that instant, something inside him broke.
Sith was only there because of him.
Yes, she had chosen to take the risk — but deep down, he held himself responsible.
Not just here, in this trial, but always.
That was who he was.
Who he had always been.
In his previous life, Alessio had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders — shielding friends, allies, guildmates.
Taking blame that wasn't his, facing danger he didn't need to, bearing burdens no one asked him to.
Because that was what he knew how to do.
That was what he was.
A protector.
And at that moment, watching the invader approach Sith, that instinct — pure and unfiltered — awakened.
No more calculation.
No more strategy.
No more thought.
Only rage.
A fire without form or limit rose within him, burning through every fiber of his body.
He didn't think of winning.
He didn't think of dying.
He didn't think of anything.
Only of destroying.
Destroying the invader.
Protecting what was his.
And for the first time, Alessio didn't need to think to fight.
He simply fought.
And unexpectedly… it worked.
His body moved on its own.
The claws found their mark.
The roar erupted from the depths of his chest — effortless, unrestrained.
It was as if his entire being had finally aligned — mind, body, and instinct acting in unison.
And in that moment, he began to understand.
To understand what the trial sought to teach.
To understand what it meant to ignite one's Essence.
Strength, technique, calculation — they were only the surface.
What truly mattered was what lay beneath.
The flame that drove the man.
The instinct that defined the lion.
And his instinct was to protect —
with everything he had,
without hesitation.
When the invader fell — bloodied, beaten, and fled into the distance — Alessio understood, for one brief moment, the meaning of the word that had followed him all his life.
Leone.
Not just a name.
But a symbol.
A calling.
Yet the wildness of that day hadn't ended.
Because the day — already fierce, intense, and brutal — found a new way to define itself.
In the end, it became even wilder.
Not because of the enemy this time.
But because of Sith.
Truth be told, Alessio was in a lion's body.
And Sith, a lioness.
The Black Tower might have been full of mysteries, but even within its unpredictable rules, natural instinct remained a force too powerful to ignore.
They were the only ones of their kind for miles —
the savanna stretched endlessly in gold and heat, the air shimmering under the rising sun.
And in that vast desert of wind and silence, there was only the two of them.
For days, Alessio had felt it growing inside him —
a silent, primal pull that made him watch her from afar, follow her steps, inhale the scent that lingered after she passed.
It wasn't something he could control — it was part of the body, part of the beast, part of the new self he had become.
But the man inside still resisted.
The human reason, the discipline forged through a decade as a strategist and player, still tried to hold the line.
And for a while, it worked.
For days, he managed to suppress the instinct, deny the pull, pretend it was nothing more than distraction — another illusion of the trial.
But then… she made the first move.
And in that moment, everything he had tried to contain — all reason, all restraint, all composure — collapsed.
The man ceased to exist.
The lion took his place.
And the result was a night of pure wilderness.
Not the wildness of violence — but of freedom.
No words, no thought, no resistance.
Just two beings answering the oldest call of nature.
The night was long.
The sky clear.
The moon burned silver above the plains, and the breath of the sleeping savanna blended with their own.
And for a brief, eternal moment, Alessio felt something he couldn't name — a sense of absolute belonging.
As if, for the first time in a long time, he was exactly where he was meant to be.
When dawn came, the first light pierced through the leaves of the tree that sheltered them.
The warmth of morning brushed against his fur, and the breeze carried the scent of damp earth.
But Sith was gone.
He noticed immediately.
The space beside him was empty — the ground still marked by her paws.
Her scent lingered faintly in the air, mingled with crushed grass and distant dust.
She hadn't gone far.
He knew that instinctively.
He could feel her — not with his eyes, but with something deeper, as if instinct itself had become his compass.
She was out there, somewhere across the golden plain — running, hunting, following the call of the lioness within her.
And yet, something in the air told him she didn't want to be found.
It wasn't fear.
Nor shame.
It was silence.
A distance not measured in steps, but in thought.
Sith needed space.
And he knew there was nothing he could do to hurry her return.
So he didn't try.
Instead, Alessio simply remained beneath the shade of the old tree they had claimed as their temporary home.
He watched the wind ripple through the tall grass, the faint rustle of leaves, the soft beating of distant wings.
And for the first time since the trial began, he allowed himself to be still.
Not to understand.
Not to predict.
Not to control.
Just to wait.
Because he knew that when she returned —
with the same fierce, living presence as always —
he would be there.