10.

Viole knelt on the cold stone floor, his body trembling from the exertion of breaking the shard. His breaths were shallow and rapid, his muscles aching as though he had fought for days. Sweat dripped from his forehead, stinging his eyes, but he barely noticed. The shard had shattered, and the oppressive weight that had clung to the air had lifted. The creature was gone.

Toren and Seris stood a few feet away, watching him cautiously, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and unease. Seris wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her smirk gone, replaced with something more serious.

"That was… intense," she said, her voice breathless but steady. "What the hell was that thing?"

Viole slowly rose to his feet, his legs unsteady as he swayed slightly. The cavern felt smaller now, the lingering echoes of the creature's presence fading into nothing. He could still feel the remnants of its energy, faint but unmistakable, like the ghost of something far more dangerous lurking just beyond his reach.

"I don't know," Viole muttered, his voice rough from exhaustion. "But it's gone now."

Toren let out a low growl, his claws retracting as his body returned to its normal, human form. He wiped the dust and grime from his hands and shook his head. "I hope that was the last of these trials. I've had enough of this place."

Seris gave him a quick glance, her sharp eyes scanning the cavern for any sign of movement. "Don't count on it. That thing was just the beginning. This is Aetherfall Academy, remember? It's never that easy."

Viole couldn't disagree. The academy was designed to break them, to test them in ways they hadn't even begun to understand. And this trial—whatever it had been—was just the first step. There would be more. And they would be worse.

But right now, none of that mattered. He had survived. And for now, that was enough.

The cavern was still eerily quiet, the remnants of the shattered shard scattered across the floor like pieces of a broken mirror. The glowing symbols on the walls had faded, their light flickering weakly before finally going dark. The air was no longer thick with the oppressive energy, but it still felt heavy with the weight of something ancient, something that had been disturbed but not destroyed.

Viole glanced down at his hand, where a faint black mark had appeared on his palm. It wasn't just a bruise from gripping the shard too tightly—it was something deeper, something tied to the power he had just unleashed. The mark pulsed faintly, a reminder of the dark energy he had called upon to defeat the creature.

The personalities within him stirred, their presence more distant now, but still there. Watching. Waiting.

Aamon's voice came first, smooth and calculating. "You're learning, Viole. You can't win without us. The more you accept that, the stronger you'll become."

Viole clenched his fist, forcing Aamon's voice into the recesses of his mind. He wasn't ready to acknowledge that. Not yet.

The group began to move, making their way back through the narrow tunnels of the cavern. Their movements were slow, fatigued, but they kept going. There was no turning back now.

Seris walked slightly ahead of him, her eyes still sharp despite the exhaustion that weighed on all of them. She had proven to be more than just the confident, cocky fighter she seemed to be. There was depth there—something beneath the surface that Viole couldn't quite place.

Toren, for all his grumbling and gruffness, had held his own. His strength was undeniable, but there was a hint of something else—frustration, maybe. Or perhaps something deeper, a sense that he wasn't entirely in control of his own power. Viole had seen it in the way Toren's eyes had flashed with anger during the fight, how his transformation had come too easily, too quickly.

And then there was the silent boy. He still hadn't spoken, still hadn't revealed anything about himself. But Viole could feel his presence, his quiet, watchful gaze. There was something dangerous about him, something lurking beneath the surface that hadn't yet been revealed. Viole wasn't sure whether to trust him or to fear him.

As they walked in silence, Viole's mind wandered back to the shard, to the creature, to the strange figure he had seen in the void. That entity—whatever it was—was still out there, still watching. It had spoken to him, tested him, but for what purpose?

"You are not ready," the figure had said.

Viole's chest tightened at the memory. What had that meant? Was it a warning? A threat?

He shook the thought from his mind. It didn't matter now. He would find out in time, and when he did, he would be ready.

They finally emerged from the cavern, stepping into the dim light of the academy's stone courtyard. The weight of the underground trial seemed to lift slightly as they returned to the surface, though the tension between them remained. The academy was silent, its towering stone walls casting long shadows over the courtyard. There was no sign of the instructors, no sign of anyone else. Just silence.

"We're done here, right?" Toren asked, his voice low and rough.

Seris gave him a quick glance. "For now. But there'll be more. There's always more."

Viole stood in silence, his gaze drifting to the sky above. The trials weren't over. They were only just beginning.

The academy loomed around them, its dark towers reaching toward the sky like jagged teeth. Inside those walls were more tests, more dangers. And somewhere, in the depths of the shadows, that ancient figure waited. Watching. Waiting.

Viole clenched his fist again, feeling the faint pulse of the mark on his palm. He would be ready.

He had to be.