This time a hook, coming from my right. I ducked, the blow passing over my head.
Hask smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the kind of smile that said he was about to stop being polite.
"Class," he said, eyes never leaving mine, "watch carefully. This is what fighting without an Anima looks like."
He attacked. Not fast for an S-rank contractor with stat transfer. Insanely fast for anyone else.
I slipped the first punch. Blocked the second with my forearm. The impact shot pain up to my shoulder. Even holding back, his strikes carried enough force to break bone.
The third caught me in the ribs. I staggered back, breath leaving my lungs in a rush.
"Too slow," Hask said. "A gate creature won't give you time to recover."
He closed the distance again. Threw a combination that would have dropped me if they'd all landed. I managed to avoid two, partially deflect one, and take the fourth on the shoulder instead of the jaw.
Fire bloomed in my shoulder. I grit my teeth, shoving the sensation down. It was just noise.
The only thing that mattered was Hask's left foot, already pivoting for another strike.
"Not using your Anima is stupid," Hask continued, circling me. "But if you can't use one, you'd better learn to compensate. Show me what two years of training without stat transfer looks like, Zero."
The name sparked something in my chest. Not anger. Something colder. More useful.
I moved first this time.
Quick jab at his face, not meant to land. When he brought his guard up, I dropped low and drove a kick at his knee.
Hask shifted his weight, letting the kick slide off his leg. "Better."
He countered with an elbow strike that would have broken my nose if I hadn't leaned back. I used the momentum to create space, resetting my stance.
The class was silent. Watching. Learning what happened when someone with no Anima fought an S-rank contractor who was barely trying.
"You move well," Hask said. "But you're fighting defensively. In a real gate, being strictly defensive means you die tired."
He came at me again. This time I didn't back up. I moved inside his guard, accepting a glancing blow to the shoulder to get close enough to land a strike to his ribs.
My knuckles connected with his ribs. The sound was a flat, dead thud, like punching a side of granite.
A jolt of pure kinetic shock shot up my arm, and I knew instantly I'd done more damage to my own hand than to him.
His hand clamped around my wrist before I could pull back. "Commitment. Good."
Then he threw me.
Not pushed. Threw. One moment I was standing, the next I was airborne.
I hit the mat and rolled, coming back to my feet just in time to see Hask charging.
No time to think. I sidestepped, using his momentum against him, adding a strike to his kidney as he passed.
He grunted. Actually felt that one.
"Now we're getting somewhere," he said, turning to face me again.
He attacked again, a flurry of strikes that forced me to give ground. I blocked what I could, dodged what I couldn't, and looked for an opening that never came.
A straight right caught me in the solar plexus. The air left my lungs. My vision blurred. I dropped to one knee, fighting to breathe.
Hask stood over me. "Not bad, Zero. But not good enough."
He turned to the class. "Pair up. One attacker, one defender. Attackers, your job is to land three clean hits. Defenders, your job is to prevent it. No abilities. Just movement and stat transfer."
Students began pairing off. Rafi with a girl who had short black hair and a dark bow—Thessa, the one who'd called me useless earlier. The platinum-haired student with someone small who looked nervous. The mountain with a guy who was checking his pockets for something.
"Sterling," Hask said, "sit this one out. Catch your breath."
I nodded, still trying to get air back into my lungs.
As Hask walked away to observe the pairs, I felt something shift in my pocket. A familiar warmth against my ribs.
The box. Always warm. Always there.
Something new, though. A sensation I'd never felt before. Like... attention. As if the box was suddenly paying attention to what was happening.
I pulled it out slightly. Just enough to see.
Twenty-two cards. Twenty-one blank. One showing The Fool.
Except the top card wasn't blank. Not completely. A faint tracery of lines spiderwebbed across the surface, the ghost of an image that had absolutely not been there this morning.
Holy shit!
I slid the box back into my pocket as Hask approached again.
"On your feet, Zero. Break's over. You're with me for the rest of class."
I stood up, ignoring the pain in my ribs. "Lucky me."
Hask almost smiled. "Attitude. Good. You'll need it."
He moved into a fighting stance. "Again. Show me what you've got."
I settled into my own stance. The box pressed against my side, warmer than before.
Something was changing. I didn't know what. But for the first time since that failed awakening ceremony, I felt like I wasn't alone in this fight.
The sensation vanished as quickly as it came. But the warmth remained.
I looked at Hask—S-rank contractor, professional gate runner, man who could break me without trying—and grinned.
"You wanted to see what a Zero can do," I rasped, tasting copper. "Class is in session."
Hask's grin was ferocious. "Now we're talking."
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A/N: Thanks for reading this chapter! Support by adding to your library and giving a power stone or two. Comment for a cookie!