I wake up in this room.
Again.
The same white. The same silence. The same emptiness pressing against my skin.
I think I'm getting used to it.
And maybe that's the real trap.
I think back to Valie's words.
"Rest. Tomorrow will be more physical."
I smile. A thin smirk.
No warmth. No strength.
How physical, exactly?
I close my eyes.
Silence the voice in my head.
I meditate. A little. Badly.
Then I let sleep take me.
Tomorrow will come.
Inevitably.
—
The next day.
The Coliseum. Again.
A relic of the Great War, repurposed as an examination hall. Nothing has really changed. People still die here.
Valie sits in the stands.
Perched. Straight. Distant.
No speakers. No shouting.
Today she stays silent.
And it's worse.
This silence—
thick, suffocating—
presses on my bones like an invisible countdown.
Then I see them.
Two silhouettes.
Flanked by guards, black sacks over their heads.
The fabric barely moves. No struggle. No panic.
They know.
Just like me.
I clench my fists.
My heartbeat slows.
No panic. No adrenaline.
Just a cold, lucid mechanism.
We're going to have to kill each other.
I can feel it.
It's written in the air.
The sacks drop.
And the Coliseum's light reveals their faces.
—
On the right… a girl.
Beige skin. Pale, but alive.
Fragile—
No. Not fragile.
An illusion.
A weapon.
Her wavy red hair falls over her shoulders.
A beauty mark decorates her left cheek. Perfect.
Too perfect.
Like even her flaws were drawn by hand.
She wears the same gray uniform as me.
But on her, it doesn't look heavy or dull.
Almost… elegant.
Wrong.
Her golden eyes meet mine.
Veiled. Absorbed.
No fear.
Not even defiance.
Just emptiness—
a quiet void—
as if nothing, no one, can reach her anymore.
As if she's been waiting for the end for a long time already.
—
On the left… a boy.
Lightly bronzed skin. A matte tone shaped by sun or war. Maybe both.
Calm. Upright. Anchored.
He stands like a pillar.
His deep-blue hair falls in thick curls.
Two strands slide across his forehead, brushing his eyes.
Green eyes.
Not the green of hope.
The green of raw emerald.
Sharp. Unshakeable.
He doesn't speak. Doesn't move.
But he's there.
Fully. Completely.
Irreducible.
He has that silence—
the silence of survivors.
Not the ones spared—
the ones shattered,
who rebuilt themselves piece by piece.
—
I watch them.
They watch me.
No exchange.
None needed.
The place speaks for us.
This isn't a meeting.
It's a selection.
And here…
there's no room for three winners.
I feel them.
It's not intuition—
it's physical.
Like a wave rippling through the air.
A shiver under my skin.
These two aren't normal.
Their Words are awakened.
I sense it in their bodies.
In their silence.
In that invisible density wrapped around them.
Energy. Power.
Raw. Controlled. Brewing.
They don't need to speak to exist.
They simply are.
And that's enough to worry me.
Then suddenly, without planning it,
the three of us turn.
Like puppets pulled by the same string.
We step back.
Instinct.
Something approaches.
Something every awakened child has learned to fear.
That pressure.
That aura.
I'm not the only one who sensed it.
Nor the only one scarred by it.
A woman.
No—
a presence.
The air splits around her as she walks,
her silver military uniform catching the light like divine armor.
A black beret with golden stars rests on her wavy black hair.
Her half-unbuttoned shirt reveals a brutal, feral sensuality.
She hides nothing.
Not her power.
Not her beauty.
Not her danger.
She's tall. But it isn't her height that crushes—
it's her gaze.
Amber. Feline.
Locked onto mine.
And instantly…
I feel small again.
It's Évra.
The same one.
The one who broke me.
The one who made me believe I died.
The one who transformed—
into a dragon.
A damn dragon. Seriously?
I glance at the others.
The boy stays straight… but his clenched jaw betrays him.
The girl doesn't move,
but the boredom in her gaze cracks for the first time.
She's frozen.
Like me.
Everything spirals.
I try to anticipate.
But my confidence dissolves.
Then her voice—
too loud, too amused, too much.
"AHAHAHAHA! These are my three anomalies!
My dream team!
Starting today, I'll be your instructor."
She steps closer,
a predator's smile stretching across her lips.
"I've got exactly three months to turn you into demon hunters.
Real ones.
Certified.
Survivors."
She stands in front of us.
"My name is Évra.
My Word is Beast.
And I'm here to make you the greatest demon hunters in history."
The blue-haired boy steps forward.
Determined.
Not to perform—
to hold his ground.
"My name is Aris.
Seventeen.
My Word is Supremacy.
I intend to hunt a certain demon.
And I'm ready to become a hunter.
Pleasure to meet you."
Supremacy.
It fits him too well.
My eyes drift to the girl.
Still staring somewhere beyond us.
Empty.
Detached.
Fine.
I speak.
"My name is Heyo.
Seventeen.
My Word is Unbound."
I could say more.
A purpose. A conviction. A spark.
Nothing comes.
So I shut up.
The girl finally speaks.
Soft. Almost sleepy.
"My name is Fortuna.
My Word is Fortune."
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
No justification.
No explanation.
Yet…
it unsettles me.
Fortune.
Really?
What kind of absurd, terrifying Word is that?
Does it protect her?
Make her win coin tosses?
Make a bullet miss because the wind sneezes for her?
Ridiculous.
Good thing she isn't my enemy.
Just a teammate.
In theory.
And him—Supremacy—
is he really superior to me?
Stronger?
Faster?
More… everything?
He stands well. Talks well.
Knows what he wants.
But is that enough here?
I don't believe in Words.
Or their rules.
And then… Évra.
Beast.
As if that means anything anymore.
She's no animal.
She's a dragon.
A myth.
A curse with claws.
I felt her strength touch my throat.
I remember the heat of dying.
I came back—
but I didn't forget.
No way she's human.
Not entirely.
And she's the one who'll train us.
I sigh. Long.
My throat dry.
My back tense.
This training will be hell.
A hell for three.
Supervised by a dragon.
A girl who bends probability,
a boy who embodies superiority,
and me.
Me, the Unbound.
The one who wants to belong to no one—
yet is trapped here,
forced to play a role.
But fine.
I'll play.
For now.
Because there's one thing I understand clearly:
The only way out alive
is to survive long enough.