"Not alive, huh?"
She stepped forward—slow, deliberate—until her face hovered inches from his. "Then maybe I'll do you a favor… and unalive you for real." At first, Lucian didn't flinch. Another threat. Another fight. He'd heard worse, survived worse. Or so he thought.
WHOOSH
The world twisted. And Before he could even react—CRACK! He was airborne, sent crashing through the air like a ragdoll. He slammed into a garbage bin, its rusted shell groaning under the impact. Trash exploded outward, burying him in the filth of rotting scraps and broken glass.
Dawn smirked. "That look suits you better." Lucian groaned, pushing himself upright—only to freeze.
STING
A sharp, foreign pain shot through his chest. It wasn't like anything he'd felt before. Not a surface bruise. Not a fracture. It was deeper. Hollowing. Real. His knees buckled, forcing him to the ground again. His breath caught—then quickened. Shallow gasps. Heart pounding like war drums. Blood surged violently through his veins, flooding every nerve with white-hot urgency. Adrenaline
His hands trembled. Vision blurred. The world became too bright and too dark at once. For the first time in a long, long while… Lucian felt the weight of death pressing against his spine. He'd always said it didn't matter. Life. Death. What difference did it make?
He was just a tool. A slave. Not truly alive, so what did it matter if he died?
LIES
They echoed now, cruel and hollow. Lies he told himself to survive. To keep going. But survival wasn't the same as living—and coping wasn't the same as hope. And Dawn knew that. She wasn't here to kill him. She was here to strip him bare.
Lucian's eyes widened as realization crashed over him. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live. His fingers curled into the dirt. His jaw clenched. His heart—beaten and abused—screamed from the inside out. "I… wanna… live…" he breathed, barely above a whisper.
Dawn leaned forward. "Hmm? I didn't quite catch that. Say it again."
Lucian lunged. Fury, desperation, survival—everything exploded at once. "I WANNA LIVE!!" he roared, swinging wildly with a jagged rock he'd grabbed from the ground, aiming straight for her face.
POW!
Her boot connected cleanly with his chest—sending him flying once again. He hit the ground hard, coughing, gasping, the rock clattering away from his fingers. Dawn stood above him, calm and cold.
"Oh? Do you now?" she said with a sigh. "Shame I've already made up my mind…" She turned slightly, one heel grinding against the stone. "Give up."
Lucian coughed up blood. His body trembled as he looked at her — desperate for options, for anything. But there was nothing. No strategy. No hope. Just a void.
Dawn tilted her head, a touch of pity glimmering in her eyes. "You know what? I'll give you a chance..." she said, voice mockingly sweet. "A chance to defend yourself. My elemental affinity is Wind... and my major is Pinpoint." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Make whatever you will of it."
Lucian's mind ticked. Elemental affinities—he knew those. Everyone did. But majors? Pinpoint? That was new. But not irrelevant. Still, he stood. Shaky knees pressed against the ground as he forced himself up, shoulders heaving. A subtle glow — azure blue — radiated from his chest, coiling into his limbs like a cerebral flame. He reached for another stone. If this was the end, he'd meet it standing.
Dawn's gaze narrowed. "That glow... Behavioural Ability of Wit, huh?" Her smirk widened. "Let's see if brains make a difference."
Lucian didn't wait. He hurled the stone at her — fast. Bullet fast. Dawn lazily pointed a finger in the shape of a gun. Snap. The rock shattered into a hundred fragments mid-air. But Lucian was no longer there.
ZAP
He appeared behind her — lightning dancing around his arms, crackling with intent. He struck — Or tried to.
WHOOSHA violent gust struck before he could land the blow, sending him crashing to the side.
Dawn blew the invisible smoke from her finger gun. "Too bad. Looks like you won't be surviving after all."
Lucian grimaced. He had to be faster. Much faster. He racked his brain. Pinpoint — what could it mean. A sharp strike. A focused wind. Targeted spots. It wasn't raw power — it was precision.
She was concentrating wind into a single, exact point — weaponizing accuracy to lethal effect. A sniper with air itself.
He launched a burst of lightning. Fast. Faster. It flew — but she waved her hand dismissively, nullifying it like a gnat. He charged anyway. Hook. Blocked. Counter-kick. A straight thrust — BOOM — blown away before it could even connect.
His body ached with every impact. Close combat wasn't working. He wasn't fast enough to overwhelm her control.
"You're boring me," Dawn yawned. "Is this really all you've got?"
Lucian's breaths grew ragged, lungs burning from overuse. He was nearing his limit. Do or die — and this time, he meant it. He shot lightning again — two bolts this time.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Again? Seriously. It's not—" She stopped. Too late. Lucian appeared behind her and slammed a stone into her cheek—
CRACK!
She stumbled back, wiping blood off her lip. "...What was that?" She winced, then smiled again. "Damn. That hurt." But her tone lied. She was impressed.
Lucian didn't stop. Lightning surged from him in all directions—surrounding her.A storm of chaos. He emerged from one bolt—vanished into another. Again. And again.She turned—he was gone. Countered—he warped. Impossible to track. Impossible to pinpoint.
Dawn's eyes lit up with realization. "Lightning Travel?" She laughed softly. "Interesting. That's a hard skill to master." She paused, remembering someone. "Maybe Clarence wasn't making things up after all. But then again... he's always right."
She turned—Lucian behind her again. Same move. Same strike. But this time, it failed.
BOOM
A wind burst sent him crashing into a wall. His body went limp from the impact. Pain exploded through him—far worse than before. His limbs refused to move. His vision blurred.
From beneath her cape, a ruby red glow pulsed to life—mixing with her wind's pale shimmer and matched the crimson colour of her cape. Violent and elegant. Like an artistic symphony of destruction.
Lucian didn't even scream. He just... passed out. Dawn walked up to his broken form, looming over him. She smiled, satisfied. "Sleep tight while you can, Lucy-boy. From now on... it's only chaos." She turned without another word. Her cloak whipped through the air like a final note.Her work was done.
And so were Lucian's lies.
The night passed — Along with Lucian's delusions, his pain, and his fractured grip on consciousness.
At the entrance of the villa, Arlen stood leaning against the stone archway, arms crossed.
Dawn returned, her boots clicking softly against the marble.
"So?" Arlen asked, barely glancing her way. "How'd it go?" Dawn smirked, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. "It went well," she said. "Clarence was right. Again."
"Of course he was," Arlen muttered, pushing himself off the wall. He studied her more closely now.
"And your personal thoughts?"
Dawn blinked. "Personal opinion?" She paused — then threw her hands up dramatically."I think he's an absolute piece of shit! Look what he did to my pretty face!" She pointed at the bruise on her cheek with mock offense.
Arlen didn't smile. His voice came low and sharp. "I'm being serious, Dawn."
Dawn sighed, rolling her eyes. "You really need to learn how to chill, Arlen."
But then, something shifted in her tone. Just slightly. "...Alright. Serious mode. My real opinion?"
She looked toward the hallway — the direction of Lucian's unconscious body.
"The boy's got potential."