Aren ran.
Not across flat ground—
but through a storm of shifting stone, crushing fog pressure, and spectral blasts that tore the ridge apart behind him.
Every breath burned.
Every step shook.
Every heartbeat triggered the Voidscar inside his chest.
The Remnant pursued him like a walking catastrophe.
BOOOOM—!!
A pillar of stone erupted from the ground, nearly spearing Aren through the ribs. He rolled under it, dust scraping his palms.
The Remnant's voice echoed across the ridge:
"Move with intention.
Not fear."
Aren hissed through his teeth.
"I'm… TRYING!"
He dodged another stone eruption—barely—while the operatives watched helplessly from a distant cliff.
The female operative clenched her rifle.
"He's going to die if this keeps up—"
The older operative shook his head slowly.
"No… He's adapting. Look at his feet."
She blinked.
Aren's trajectory—
despite the chaos—
was becoming controlled.
Precise.
Not random fleeing.
He wasn't just running anymore.
He was positioning.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The Remnant leapt, landing in front of Aren with a seismic crash.
Aren skidded to a halt, sliding through dust.
The Remnant raised a limb—
this time slower—
testing him.
Aren inhaled.
Void surged—
a reflex waiting to explode—
but he didn't let it.
Not yet.
He waited for the moment.
The Remnant struck—
Aren stepped aside.
Not void.
Not distortion.
Just movement.
A clean, human sidestep.
The Remnant's limb hit the ground beside him, cracking the stone.
The Remnant's eyes flickered.
"Good."
Aren panted heavily.
"So this… is pressure training…"
"Yes.
Void users rely on instinct.
Instinct is powerful…
but predictable."
The Remnant swept its arm sideways.
Aren ducked under the blow—
late—
but improving.
Dust burst around him.
He stood again.
The Remnant nodded once.
"Instinct alone makes you a weapon.
Intention makes you a fighter."
Aren clenched his fists.
"I want both."
"Then earn both."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The Remnant lunged again—
This time not at Aren's body—
but at his stability.
Void pressure slammed into him like a psychic hammer.
Aren staggered.
His vision blurred.
The world twisted.
The Voidscar trembled violently.
The Remnant spoke:
"Lesson three."
"Void answers emotion."
The pressure doubled.
Aren nearly fell to one knee.
His heart raced.
Thoughts spiraled.
Fear spiked.
Void surged upward—
Trying to burst—
Trying to react—
Trying to take over—
Aren screamed internally:
NOT. YET.
His feet dug into the ground.
He forced breath into his lungs.
He forced the void downward.
He straightened—
Barely—
But he stood.
The Remnant's runes dimmed slightly.
"Control rising emotion.
Or emotion controls void."
Aren wiped sweat from his brow.
"So what now?"
The Remnant crouched.
"Now—
you fight me."
Aren froze.
"…Fight—"
"Not to win.
To endure."
The Remnant charged again.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Aren drew the Voidscar—
not fully—
not wildly—
just enough.
A thread.
A flicker.
He slashed the air—
Spatial Rip!
The Remnant's strike twisted off course—
CRRRAAASSHH—!!
The ground blew apart beside Aren.
Dust blinded him.
But he didn't panic.
He breathed.
He controlled.
Another strike—
Aren rolled.
Stood.
Slashed again.
Spatial Rip — angled!
The Remnant's limb skidded sideways.
Aren took two steps back—
controlled, measured movement.
The Remnant paused.
Then nodded.
"You adapt fast."
Aren panted.
"You attack fast."
"I am testing survival.
Not victory."
Another pulse of void pressure rolled over the ridge.
The operatives shielded their eyes as stone trembled.
Aren pushed back physically—
leaning forward—
feet planted—
Voidscar pulsing beneath the skin.
He didn't break.
Not this time.
The Remnant lowered its arms.
The fog settled.
The ridge stopped shaking.
"Enough."
Aren collapsed to one knee, gasping for air.
The Remnant approached him slowly—
not as an enemy—
but as a judge.
"Voidscar bearer."
"Report."
Aren forced his breathing to calm.
"I held it back."
"Yes."
"I controlled it."
"Somewhat."
Aren managed a weak glare.
"…You're hard to impress."
The Remnant tilted its head.
"Good."
Aren blinked.
"Good…?"
The Remnant's silver runes glowed softly.
"If mastery came easily…
you would fear it too late."
Aren swallowed.
There was truth in that.
The Remnant lifted a limb and pointed deeper into the fog-covered valley.
"Lesson four begins tomorrow."
Aren asked:
"What is it?"
The Remnant answered:
"Learning to summon void…
without losing yourself."
Aren's heartbeat quickened.
He whispered:
"…Summon it?
On purpose?"
The Remnant lowered its head.
"Yes."
"You controlled the void today."
"Tomorrow, you command it."
━━━━━━━
Aren's chest tightened.
This was the path.
Not the one the void king wanted.
Not the one the system gave him.
His own.
He stood.
Barely.
But proudly.
"I'll be here tomorrow."
The Remnant rumbled approval and faded into the fog.
The female operative rushed over, wide-eyed.
"Aren—are you alive?!"
He gave her a tired smile.
"Barely."
The older operative smirked.
"That's the Frontier.
Live through today, and tomorrow hurts more."
Aren chuckled weakly.
"Good."
Because each day forward meant one thing—
He was evolving again.
But this time, by choice.