My heart goes wild.
Kairo isn't human. He isn't normal. He's… a monster.
But I don't have a choice.
I clench my fist.
I swallow.
And I try. I try to channel the energy of my Word into this trembling fist.
Kairo watches me.
He's understood. He's seen what I'm preparing.
But he keeps walking. Unhurried.
As if I were… nothing.
— Looks like you awakened your Word, he says without stopping.
I don't care. Stay put.
I answer. My voice shakes. Stress leaks through.
— You just killed a man… and now you're selling me like a parcel?
You've got no values? No honor?
His gaze softens. But it's not kindness.
— To fulfill my goal, values and ethics are only brakes.
I'm ready for anything.
I straighten. I lock my fear away.
— Then you asked for it.
I feel the energy of Words pulsing in my hand.
It vibrates. Burning. Alive.
I hold it, as long as I can.
Then I move. I charge.
I focus.
I aim at his cheek.
I plant my foot.
I turn the hips.
I throw the shoulder.
I strike.
My fist crashes into his jaw.
His feet don't move…
But his torso tilts. The impact is real.
He took it.
I'm surprised. I hit. I really hit.
Maybe… maybe he's weakened.
It's now or never.
I fire my left fist.
Same path. Same force. Same impact.
I see his body react. He wavers.
Hope is born.
Maybe I can beat him. Maybe…
I gather everything.
My energy. My rage. My fear.
I throw an uppercut to the gut.
He lifts.
Light.
Spits blood.
This is the moment.
I have to run.
I turn.
But I'm stopped.
His arm clamps mine. Firm. Unyielding.
He's read me. He anticipated.
I slam his face so he'll let go.
— Let me go! Let me go!
He doesn't answer.
He doesn't step back.
He doesn't even move.
I keep going.
I hit. Again. Again.
But my blows lose force.
The energy of Words dissipates.
Fear takes over.
And he… stays there.
Why does he persist? Why won't he answer me?
— Bravo, bravo… magnificent.
A voice.
New. Unexpected.
I freeze.
I turn my head.
They're there.
Three men. Lined up in front of me.
The first is slender. Long pink hair, careful makeup.
Violet suit. Pale skin.
The second is massive.
Black glasses. Black suit. Tanned skin. He doesn't smile.
And the third…
The one in the middle.
He's… different. Darker. More dangerous.
Three-piece suit. Hat. Cigar. Glasses.
Black gaze. Empty. Too calm.
As if he had already seen everything. And couldn't care less.
The man with pink hair steps forward.
— Far be it from me to interrupt this magnificent conversation…
But we're here to collect a parcel.
Kairo hits me with a kick that forces me to shift.
I step back.
Then I try to move.
But I'm slow.
Too slow.
He still had energy. Enough to slow me, just a little.
Why use it only now?
Kairo looks at them.
— My money.
The man with pink hair comes closer and holds out an envelope.
The black-suited colossus steps toward me.
He's going to tie me up.
He raises his hand.
I see him coming. Slowly.
I close my eyes—stupid reflex.
Three against one.
I'm alone.
I don't stand a chance.
Even if I put this one down, there are two left.
It's over.
But…
Why isn't it happening?
I think. Several seconds pass.
And nothing.
I open my eyes again.
I'm in shadow.
The sun lit me a moment ago. And now… nothing.
I lift my head.
And I see it.
The black-suited man's hand is stopped.
Held.
By a presence.
Immense.
Behind me.
— HELLO, KID.
A voice.
Strong. Hoarse.
Brutal. Alive.
Feminine.
I turn.
And she's there.
A silver uniform, immaculate but heavy with authority, molds her figure. The shirt, bordered with three stars sewn with precision, declares a rank that crushes. The long gray trousers fall straight, rigid, as if determined to extend her already imposing stature. Her boots rise to the shins, dark and solid—each step she might take could resound like a sentence.
I lift my head.
The black beret sits proud, marked with three stars as well. Thick hair breaks free in waves, black and wavy, untamed cascades framing her face with deliberate savagery. Her mixed skin catches the light, giving her a living glow, almost burning.
Her shirt, slightly open, reveals a generous chest worn with a confidence that seeks neither excuse nor justification. And then her eyes.
Amber. Feline.
They spear into mine, deep, dangerous, gleaming with a silent promise of domination.
A slow smile cuts across her lips, sharp and certain, as if she were already reading the end of the story.
I understand.
She could break us all, here, without even lifting a hand.
— Who… who are you, ma'am?
She laughs. Loud. Unashamed.
— AHAHAHA! Call me Évra. I'm with the government. I'm here for you.
Her tone shifts; the air around us grows heavier.
My shoulders sink.
My breath shortens.
My legs want to fold.
No scream. No shouted threat.
Just her presence.
Crushing.
As if a monstrous, inhuman entity had opened its eyes… and seen us all.
— All of you… turn around. And run. Without stopping. Otherwise, I take your lives. One by one.
She doesn't shout.
Her voice doesn't need force.
She bargains with their lives.
Not a sound.
Not a single word.
Even Kairo freezes for a fraction of a second.
And I swear… I see his gaze change.
No challenge.
No strategic retreat.
Just a decision.
He turns on his heel.
And bolts.
Yes. Kairo bolts.
The other three hesitate.
One thousandth of a second.
Then they follow. Without a word.
Without asking questions.
Without even looking at each other.
They flee.
Not out of fear.
But because they know.
You don't debate with that kind of woman.
You don't test that kind of aura.
You step aside. Or you die.
I breathe.
I'm alive.
I'm… saved?
In the distance, a silhouette forms.
A young woman.
She is small, almost discreet, but something in her gait breathes tranquility. Long black hair falls like a curtain and veils part of her face, leaving only fragments of features, like a mystery she guards jealously. Behind that darkness, two bluish lenses catch the light: her glasses, thin, glacial, reflecting the world like a barrier.
Her skin is almost unreal in its paleness, fragile, as if the sun had never touched it. And yet, it is marked: freckles constellate her face, dark but strangely translucent, as if they floated on the surface of her skin instead of rooting into it.
Her military uniform is buttoned to the collar, strict, without a crease, lending her appearance an almost suffocating rigor. The gray skirt falls straight, long, stopping just above her shoes. Brown loafers, plain, without shine, complete her look.
She holds a strange key.
An artifact of luminous rings and a magical heart.
Évra looks at me.
— You see that girl? She's here for one thing.
Her gaze pierces me.
My heart kicks.
— Either you have your Word sealed. Forever. Or I kill you.
Everything collapses.
I… I wanted to live.
I wanted to be free.
And they offer me an impossible choice.
I stammer.
— Isn't there another option…? One where I live… and keep my Word?
She smiles.
Bloody. Luminous.
— Yes, of course.
Those amber eyes pin me.
— All you have to do… is kill me.
A shiver rips through me. Icy. Instinctive.
This is… different.
The others wanted to capture me. Seal me.
I knew it was the end. But I still had hope.
Here, no.
Facing her, I see nothing.
Only emptiness.
Only despair.
I don't want to lose my power.
I'd rather die.
But not like this. Not now.
I have to find a way out.
I have to think—maybe…
Maybe…
Well then—damned if I do, damned if I don't.
I have a plan.
Blurry, crooked, suicidal.
But it's all I have.
I raise my eyes.
Courage flares.
— Very well… I'll kill you in one blow.
Her eyes widen, a gleam amused.
— You? Kill me? In one blow? I'd love to see that.
I hold my ground.
— Unfortunately, my strike is easy to dodge. Here—let me offer a deal. If you take it, you win. Otherwise, you die.
She steps closer. Slowly.
Then tilts her head down to my level.
Her breath grazes my cheek. I shiver.
— Hit me, runt. And after that, I break you. Bone by bone.
I swallow.
— All right… don't complain after.
I set my stance.
My feet root.
Word-energy pulses in my legs.
Calves. Thighs. Knees.
Everything rises.
I jump.
High.
The sun is at my back.
She lifts her eyes; I hope to blind her.
I hide my fist behind me.
I hold everything. All my strength. All my fear.
I drop.
Just before impact—I strike.
A single blow.
And POP.
She vanishes.
Évra. Gone.
My heart stops.
I see her. Or rather… I no longer see her.
She's in the bag.
That bag. The object tied to the other man's power.
The Kidnapper's Bag.
I didn't know if I could use it.
But I felt capable.
My power seems very wide.
I thought hard of that filthy bag.
And it worked.
Damn… it worked.
Ow! My hand!
The bag burns me. The energy is unstable.
I throw it away on reflex.
No time to think.
I have to run.
I look at the girl with glasses, the key still in hand.
She doesn't move.
Good.
I turn.
I run.
No. I stumble.
Dizziness.
The world pitches.
My strength abandons me.
No more Word-energy. Nothing.
I try to get up.
My legs refuse.
Stand. Come on. Stand.
I push up.
I stagger.
My steps blur, dragging.
But I keep going.
Step after step.
And suddenly—
BOOM.
A shockwave.
My body lifts. I crash onto my back.
I look up.
The bag.
It is… red.
Not just hot. On fire.
Another shockwave. Then a third.
A rending crack tears the air.
I see first a claw, enormous, dark, glossy like heated metal, driven into the earth and making the ground tremble under its own weight. Then, slowly, an entire forelimb reveals itself, covered in red scales streaked with black, each scale seeming to bear a battle scar or a shard of frozen lava. A second leg emerges in turn, symmetrical and just as monstrous, anchoring into the soil with a tranquil power that makes it feel as if the earth itself could give way beneath its weight.
And then comes the maw.
Wide. Long. A mass of gleaming fangs, almost unreal in their whiteness, cut to crush and tear. Between those fangs leak fine threads of flame, an incandescent breath that dances like a warning. The whole head rises, bristling with black horns and scarlet crests, and every movement seems to make the air vibrate, as if the world refused to breathe at the same time it does.
Its body follows, titanic, a mass of red scales with shifting reflections—sometimes gold, sometimes crimson—as if its blood flowed just beneath the skin. Its wings unfold slowly, dark membranes stretched between black bones, wide enough to cover an entire village. The tail, long and supple, sways with the leisure of a predator sure of its power, each sweep carving invisible furrows into space.
It's a dragon. Not an image. Not a myth. A real one.
A monster. Majestic. Immense. Mortal.
It doesn't move yet, but its presence alone crushes the air, burns my lungs, knots my muscles.
Its eyes, yellow and slit, fall on me.
And I understand without a single Word spoken: it is here. It sees me.
And in that gaze there is only a cold, primal intent.
It wants me dead.
I close my eyes.
I want to go home.
I want to breathe. Just once.
When I open them again…
I'm on my mountain.
My inner world.
The only place that belongs to me.
I breathe.
A tablet lights up before me.
Word: Unbound
Rank: Dormant
Active Ability: The bearer can acquire what he desires.
Passive Ability: The bearer is free to choose his passive ability.
I smile.
I'm at the end.
But I still have a choice.
And sometimes, a single choice…
is enough.