I am dreaming. I am asleep.

  But Mount Olympus is absent—its golden peak nowhere to pierce the heavens or dominate the horizon. The mountain should stand unyielding, its presence unmistakable from any point in the divine realm. But it’s gone. Something is wrong—something impossibly wrong.

  As always, I run, but this time fear drives my steps. No emerald fields surround me. The air reeks of rotting bark and blood-soaked earth. Even here, in this forsaken forest—this lifeless, secluded wasteland devoid of any godly presence—I know I am not alone. The realm of the Olympians is vast, an endless tapestry, but never have I stumbled into such a vile corner, a pit where dry branches claw at my every step, and darkness instantly swallows the ground I leave behind.

  The rhythm of my strides echoes in the cold night, a hollow attempt to convince me I am alone. But it’s a lie. Whatever hunts me does so without sound, slipping through the shadows like a ghost, never once losing its sight on me. I push myself harder, fighting for any chance to break away, but the chase quickly starts to feel like some twisted game of cat and mouse. My patience runs out as I stumble into a moonlit clearing, a massive boulder at its heart. I step onto the rock, brandishing Crocea Mors, and slowly scan the dry canopy, trying to steady my heartbeat with each deliberate breath.

  "Show yourself," I murmur, voice low and commanding. "I know you're watching. Show yourself."

  Silence answers. The night conspires to make me question my instincts, but I hold firm. Whatever stalks me is real, I feel it in every tense muscle, in every alert nerve. Turning slowly, I keep my sword ready and let a smirk edge onto my lips.

  "I can see you…" I whisper, cocky now.

  That provokes a reaction.

  "How can you see through my spell?" A hollow, ethereal voice drifts through the air, chilling in its calm.

  I chuckle, gripping my shield tighter as I remember her teachings. “A powerful enemy should always be deceived or avoided. Only when escape proves impossible do we stand and face them. Only when cornered do we reveal our true might. But in that moment, there must be no room for doubt.”

  "Are you ready, then?" the goddess taunts, her presence inching closer, unseen yet undeniable. "Speak your enemy's name and bear the weight of your choice."

  Taking a final breath, I clear my mind, banishing the pulse of fear that threatens to spill out of my chest and weaken my legs, my arms, my soul.

  "You are Athena…"

  Her attack is instantaneous—a single, crushing blow of her shield, as swift and merciless as death itself. If I hesitate, even for a moment, it will be the end of me. But I don’t. Her strike finds no wavering, no weakness, I am nothing but silent, unyielding focus. Our clash lasts only a heartbeat, and when it ends, I collapse to the ground, breathless yet alive. Alive is enough.

  Athena towers above me, her tall, pale form draped in the shifting shadows of the forest. Her eyes glint with an assessing gaze, and the barest hint of a smile tugs at her lips. Without a word, she turns and walks away, her form disappearing into the shadows. Yet, by some unseen force, I am pulled along. In a blink, the forest dissolves into the vast expanse of her private library—a maze of dark wood and endless shelves, a labyrinth of knowledge stretching into the unknown as a single, organized force of inquiry.

  "Speak to me, Jaune," she murmurs, her voice detached, her focus already elsewhere. She vanishes and reappears between shelves, pulling down tomes with a precision born of centuries. Pages flutter under her swift hands, though I doubt she’s forgotten a single word. The motion seems... restless, nervous even.

  Finally, she halts, turning her long neck to face me. Her eyes—deep and fathomless—bore into me, framed by a cascade of pitch-black hair against her marble-like skin, her face almost avian in its cold intensity.

  "Your heart has been troubled these past days," she observes quietly. "That is not how I’ve trained you. What weighs on you, child? Is everything okay?"

  Rooted by the weight of her silent presence, it takes me a moment to find my feet. “Y-Yeah, I’ve… Aphrodite’s been helping me, now that I’ve made it into Beacon. She—”

  I see a flicker of frustration flash across her face as she takes a deep breath, her brow furrowing just before she returns to her composed stance.

  “Jaune…” Athena stumbles over her words—a rare thing. “I understand that you are a man, and a young one at that. But please, please, try not to give in to her every whim. There’s no quicker way for a warrior to meet his end than by following his heart. For your own good, I must expect you to be above such matters.”

  “I don’t give in to her every whim…”

  Words can’t describe the look on Athena’s face. She’s not offended by the lie itself; she’s offended that I would even attempt to pass such a thing as truth.

  “How many?” she questions me tiredly.

  “How many?” I echo, legitimately confused.

  “How many… companions has that woman already tie into your fate with her ceaseless weaving and knitting? Your soul is not a toy, Jaune! What will happen when her threads start to knot together? Do you really think Aphrodite will be there to untangle the mess for you and kiss you on the cheek? No, she’ll stay only as long as you amuse her, feed her, taking every girl you look at and throwing them into your bed, their moans—”

  “Doing what?!” I finally interrupt, her eyes immediately snapping back to mine.

  She leans down, gently tilting my head up. “You haven’t?” the goddess asks, and I shake my head, fighting the urge to retreat from her awkward touch. “Oh, thank the heavens. There might still be some hope…” But then she pauses, a finger pressed to her lips as she ponders. “Still, that’s… rare. She must have tried by now. Could there be some… impediment? Perhaps physiological or psychological? Erectile dysfunc—"

  “Athena!” I drag the divine being back from her thoughts, louder this time.

  Athena clears her throat, rolling her shoulders, slightly flustered. “I ask that you forgive me. Now, where were we?”

  Wiping the cold sweat from my brow, I finally reach the reason why I’m standing here. “I’ll be assigned a team today, and they will be my partners for as long as I stay at Beacon. I could really use some help.”

  Her gaze lights up with a brimming silver, countless possibilities flashing behind her eyes. “That would seem… acceptable. I was only planning on testing your might today, but if you are in need of direction, I will lend you my perception.”

  A pang of amusement flickers within me at how casually she describes a trial of life or death. But deities, after all. Leaving that aside, counting with her aid is an immediate wave of relief. Aphrodite’s… fun, but today I was hoping to have some luck and find someone a little bit more inclined to focus on my academic well-being. In other words, I am in good hands.

  “Athena…” I take a step forward, savoring the moment. “Lend me your wisdom.”

  ?

  Waking up, I’m immediately grateful to find myself on an actual bed. As comfortable as the trip to the academy was, nothing beats the luxury of a real mattress beneath me. Up until now, we’ve all been staying in a special building reserved for new students—those of us still waiting to be assigned to teams. It’s the best of both worlds: enjoying my own space while living close to everyone else. I could definitely get used to this.

  “Jaune.” Athena’s voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and omnipresent as always. “I’ve been reflecting on my words. I believe I owe you an apology,” she says as I finish getting ready for the big day ahead and step out of my room. “I cannot begin to fathom what you’ve endured under Aphrodite’s guidance. Worry not, child. From now on—”

  Before she can finish, a sharp pain jolts through me. It’s sudden, intense, and oddly not entirely unpleasant. Teeth sink softly into the space between my neck and shoulder, drawing a startled grunt from me as my back arches involuntarily. A pair of strong hands grip me just enough to keep me from escaping before releasing me.

  Spinning around, I find Yang standing there, arms behind her back, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all. “I just wanted a taste. A girl wakes up hungry for some fun, you know?” Her teasing tone is almost enough to make me forget the ache in my neck.

  But then she leans closer, her grin fading as her eyes narrow. “Jaune…? Are you okay? You look… different.”

  My mind screams under the weight of Athena’s silent disapproval. No, that’s not right—it feels like she’s physically there, dagger in hand, ready to deliver divine judgment. But Yang doesn’t seem to notice my internal panic, and I decide the safest option is to ignore what just happened entirely.

  “Different?” I echo nervously, rubbing the spot on my neck where her teeth left their mark.

  “Yeah… You look… serious.” She steps closer, her face tilted in curiosity. Then, as if a switch flips, her smirk returns. “Ohhh, I get it. You’re nervous about the team thing, huh? Or…” Her grin sharpens. “Maybe there’s someone you really want on your team? Someone you wouldn’t mind sharing a room with?” She takes another step, and I instinctively back up—straight into the wall.

  Her warm breath tickles my lips, and her eyes gleam with mischief. “I know I’ve got someone in mind,” she whispers, leaning in closer, the space between us vanishing.

  Just as I feel the need to either say something or perish on the spot, a high-pitched voice shatters the moment. “Yaaaaaang!”

  A girl in a red hood rushes toward us, exasperation radiating off her like a storm. “Stop playing around! We’re gonna be late!”

  Yang pulls back, laughing. “Fine, fine.” But not before planting a quick peck on my cheek. “Hey, if we both do well today, you might just get another taste.”

  The sisters walk away, chatting like nothing happened. Meanwhile, I lean against the wall, trying to will the blood back into my brain.

  “Athena…” I manage in a breathless whisper. “I swear, this isn’t—”

  “Don’t.” Her voice cuts through me, cold and firm. “This is my fault. Clearly, I’ve been far too lenient with your training. It seems a watchful eye is no longer sufficient. From now on, I will personally involve myself in your… common affairs.”

  Oh, great. Nothing like having a goddess critique your life choices in real time.

  “Hmph.” A disapproving huff pulls me back to reality, and I see Weiss standing nearby, arms crossed and chin held high. “Such appalling behavior,” she says, disdain dripping from every word. “Though, I suppose I shouldn’t expect better.”

  She’s impeccably put together, as always. Her white hair falls loose down her back today, softening her usual sharp demeanor just a bit. She turns her head away with an offended sniff, but she doesn’t leave.

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  “Uh… should we get going?” I ask hesitantly. “Don’t want to be late, right?”

  Weiss sighs dramatically, her posture stiff. “It’s not as though I have a choice, is it? We’re heading in the same direction, after all. It’s… logical.”

  “Yeah. Logical.” I nod.

  Athena’s groan reverberates through my mind like thunder.

  And I thought Aphrodite would be hard to please.

  ?

  Half an hour later, we’re crammed into the cargo hold of an airship, grouped in teams of eight. The tight space buzzes with nervous energy as we sit shoulder to shoulder, the hum of the engines providing a faint backdrop. In the center of the room, a hologram of Professor Ozpin flickers to life, his calm demeanor at odds with the tension hanging in the air.

  “Today’s test is about more than just fighting,” Ozpin begins, his voice measured and firm. “You’ve proven yourselves capable enough to join Beacon Academy, but this is where the real challenge begins. Teamwork will be your first trial. If you cannot learn to rely on others and offer aid when needed, you will fail—not just here, but as huntsmen. I’ll make sure of it.”

  He pauses, letting his words settle over us. The room is silent save for the occasional creak of the airship, his hologram pacing deliberately in the center. “With that out of the way,” he continues, “let’s discuss your collective objective.”

  The hologram shifts, displaying a map of the terrain we’re heading toward. Three locations are marked with glowing indicators, drawing our focus.

  “Your task is to retrieve the trophies located at these designated sites. Any student who fails—"

  Ozpin stops mid-sentence. His head snaps to the side, as if addressing someone off-screen, and his calm tone is replaced by sharp, inaudible shouting. The tension in the room thickens instantly. Awkward glances and nervous chuckles ripple through our group, but the unease lingers.

  And then, without warning, chaos.

  A deafening explosion tears through the airship. Heat washes over us in an instant, searing and suffocating. The floor shudders violently beneath us as the world tilts into chaos. My body is flung to the side, the sensation of weightlessness blurring into disorientation. The air fills with panicked screams, desperate and raw, but they’re quickly swallowed by the roar of destruction.

  The spiraling descent seems to stretch endlessly, but it all ends in a jarring, terrible crash. The impact is bone-shaking, silencing everything—screams, thoughts, even the pounding of my heart. I never thought I would be glad to be heavily tied onto a chair, but it might just have saved my life.

  For a moment, there’s nothing but thick silence.

  We’re all alone, sitting together yet on our own, isolated by the quiet barrier of panic. Then I feel it—a hand on my shoulder, steady and grounding. Athena. Her touch freezes time around me, pulling me into her Quick Thought. It’s a moment of clarity amidst the storm, giving me room to breathe, to think. I exhale slowly, letting the calm wash over me, and give her a silent nod. She releases her divine domain, and time resumes.

  My hand reaches for the button to remove the heavy bar, and I get on my feet, taking a look around to make sure everybody was as lucky as me. “We need to move,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “Whatever just happened, we need to be ready for worse, and fast.”

  Pyrrha is the first to stand, and together we begin helping the others. One by one, the group stumbles out of the wrecked airship. Minutes pass like hours, every second laced with the fear of another attack.

  Only two remain. One girl sits frozen in her seat, her companion frantically tugging at the safety bar. I move closer, and the one with orange hair glances up at me, desperation in her eyes.

  “I can’t,” she mutters. “I just can’t.”

  Breaking the steel bar with bare hands probably isn’t an option for most humans, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I focus, Athena’s wisdom guiding me as I analyze the mechanism, pushing aside the panic of it all, turning my mind cold. Emergency safeguards always have a release…

  “There.”

  I pull at the right junction, and the seatbelt disassembles with a soft click. The dark-haired girl stumbles free, her scarred face flushed with uncomfortable embarrassment as she looks up at me.

  “Thank you,” she says softly, offering a polite bow. “I’m Rin, Lie Rin. And this is—”

  “Nora!” the smaller girl chirps, a nervous giggle breaking through her tension.

  I nod, gesturing toward the exit. “Rin, Nora—let’s get clear of the ship until we know it’s safe, okay?”

  They exchange a glance, then follow silently.

  We emerge into daylight just as the ground begins to quake. Over the hill, tusks emerge first, followed by a massive boar barreling toward us with a round figure astride its back. The rider’s dark clothes are caked with dirt and blood, a crude, butchered pig mask covering his face.

  “Ho-ho!” the man bellows, raising a crude weapon in one hand. “Easy pickings! Ripe for the plucking!”

  Before anyone can react, another figure streaks past us like a burst of wind, wild laughter echoing in their wake. The guy in front of me barely has time to turn before the blur grabs him, dragging him away with terrifying speed.

  The boar skids to a halt with a snort, hooves digging furrows into the dirt. The second attacker steps forward into the clearing, a wiry, twitching figure with jerky movements that seem wrong, unnatural. His head tilts to the side, a faint, stuttering voice spilling from behind a crooked mask.

  “P-Port... S-should we… give them time to run? I-it’s… fun.”

  The words send a chill down my spine.

  I glance around, careful eyes scanning the faces of my group for any sign of resolve or a plan. Pyrrha is the first to act—subtle, as always. She shifts backward, herding the others with a quiet but firm hand, guiding them toward the wreckage of the airship for cover.

  But not everyone follows.

  A tall student steps forward, a golden eagle imprinted on his chest, his features twisted with fury. He holds a massive mace, gripping it tightly enough that his knuckles turn white.

  “Let’s show these freaks who’s boss!” he shouts, his voice brimming with bravado.

  Two others rally behind him, cheering as they move into position beside him. They stand defiantly, oblivious to the silence behind them—the rest of us hanging back, watching as their reckless courage isolates them at the forefront of the fight.

  The rider atop the boar lets out a chilling cackle and fires his weapon—a heavy, spiked chain snakes through the air with terrifying precision. It wraps around the raised mace, yanking the eagle-marked student forward with a brutal force that slams him into the ground. His voice quickly becomes desperate. The other two hesitate, their cheers dying in their throats as panic overtakes them. They step forward to try and help, but their movements are frantic, uncoordinated, clinging to the fading idea of glorious victory.

  For the rest of us, that’s all we need to see. Chaos breaks our paralysis, and we retreat.

  “Jaune!” Pyrrha’s voice slices through the madness as we sprint away, abandoning all subtlety. “Where?”

  The question echoes inside my enhanced mind, ricocheting off half-formed thoughts. Where? Where do we go? The map. The sites. West. Sun. Morning. East. My gaze darts upward, finding the sun’s position, and I point in the opposite direction.

  “West!” I shout. “Let’s find one of the places Ozpin was talking about. We’ll figure something out once we’re there!”

  Pyrrha nods, determination flickering in her eyes, and pushes ahead. Rin matches her stride effortlessly, her movements smooth and practiced. Nora lags behind, burdened by the massive hammer strapped to her back, her breath coming in uneven gasps.

  The laughter starts again—sharp and wild, closer this time. It stalks us like a predator, growing louder with every step we take.

  No choice.

  I summon Athena’s power.

  The mantle unfurls around me like liquid shadow, flowing down my arms and weaving itself into twin bracelets around my wrists. From the lining of the cloak, I pluck feathers, their edges hardening into sharp, dagger-like blades under my touch.

  Armed and ready, I call upon Athena’s Quick Thought.

  The world doesn’t stop—not for me—but it slows. My mind accelerates past the limits of my body, calculating faster than I can move. It’s far from the goddess’s mastery, but it’s enough to plan. To act. I see him—the supersonic attacker closing the gap between us. His movements blur, but in this state, I can anticipate them. I know where he is and where he’s going to be. My fingers tighten around the daggers, and as I drop Quick Thought, I throw.

  The feathers fly toward him, deadly and precise. He panics, just barely dodging, skidding into the mud before coming to a silent stop. I can see the confusion behind the mask, the silent wondering of how did I just do that. Unfortunately, my companions do the same.

  “Run!” I scream wildly, before any of them can argue. “I’ll buy us some time!”

  I keep moving, of course, but now deliberately dragging behind. Each time he tries to turn in their direction, I punish him with another barrage of daggers, forcing him to turn his attention to me or be stabbed in the back. The strategy works, turning the chaotic battle into a one-on-one duel—though whether that’s a victory or a curse, I can’t yet tell.

  “Jaune,” Athena’s voice echoes again, untouched by doubt or worry. “Can you tell me who will come out on top?”

  Her question cuts through the adrenaline, pulling me into brutal clarity. My mind races, weighing options, outcomes. The truth is clear. Every time I step into Quick Thought, even if just for a split second, a huge portion of my energy vanishes.

  “I’m losing,” I admit silently.

  “Yes, you are.” There’s no judgment in her tone, only the quiet press of expectation. “What will you do about it?”

  Distance. It’s the problem. The further I am, the easier it is for him to read my movements, to dodge my attacks as they move toward him. There’s only one answer.

  I stop throwing.

  The daggers vanish as I take hold of my shield instead, its weight grounding me. Athena’s blessing surges through me, steadying my very soul. If I stand firm—if I believe, without doubt, that I can endure—her power will hold, no matter the attack.

  I brace myself, senses sharp, waiting for the faintest disturbance so I can present my guard. Finally, I hear the soft rustling of leaves.

  But he isn’t there. I turn around and he isn’t there.

  The attack comes from the side, a blur of force slamming into me and sending me rolling into the dirt. My shield slips from my grip, and I gasp as pain radiates through my ribs.

  “N-Not bad…” the figure stammers, stepping closer, his twitching form looming. “Not bad at—”

  Rustling. Soft, faint. The sound of something fragile being stepped on… But he isn’t there.

  I look up just in time to see Rin emerge from nowhere, her silhouette materializing like a ghost behind the attacker. Her fist arcs downward, striking the back of his head with brutal precision. The man stumbles forward, unsteady, before retreating with a grunt of pure pain. He dashes away, disappearing over the hill.

  Invisible. Semblance. Friend. Saved. Good.

  My thoughts tumble over themselves, spiraling into chaos even as the danger recedes.

  Rin extends a hand toward me, her long, dark hair falling loose around her soft, gentle face. I grasp her hand, and she pulls me to my feet with surprising strength.

  “We should probably…” she begins, her voice quiet, hesitant.

  “Yes,” I say quickly, cutting her off as I resume the desperate run. “T-Thank you!”

  The ghost of a smile presents itself over her lips, making the shy girl look almost proud.

  ?

  A few minutes later, we reach the designated facility—but it’s nothing like I expected. What might once have been an advanced research or communication center now lies in shambles, any semblance of awe or safety long since eroded by rust and time. Rin glances at me, her fear plain despite the brave front she struggles to maintain. The hopelessness settling in her eyes is undeniable.

  “We should try to find Pyrrha and Nora,” I say, keeping my steps deliberate and steady.

  If I stop now, I know desperation will catch up with me too. So I push forward, leading us into the derelict building, hoping to find a way to call for help—or, failing that, a place to barricade ourselves until we can think of something better. Both plans are short-lived. The sound of combat echoes from deeper inside, sharp and unmistakable.

  Nora’s hammer flies through the hallway, spinning like a whirlwind toward a silent, feminine figure. With a flick of her riding crop, the woman redirects it effortlessly. The wide brim of her witch’s hat tilts as she lets out a soft, mocking chuckle. Her posture shifts, and suddenly every piece of debris—rubble, shards of glass, remnants of machinery—comes to life. They glimmer as they disintegrate and reform, merging into a spear of pure, unstable entropy.

  Determined to stand my ground, I plant my feet and intercept the spear mid-flight with my shield, parrying an impact that should have crushed me on the spot.

  “Pyrrha!” I shout.

  Nora’s hammer returns to her with a vengeance, slamming into the witch from behind. The three of them surge forward, capitalizing on the split-second opening I’ve managed to create.

  “Nora!”

  Pyrrha grips her shield with both hands, leaping into the air and turning around mid-flight. That’s all the instruction Nora needs. With a powerful swing, she sends Pyrrha flying forward like a bronze-clad missile. The witch raises her hand to block, but it’s too late. Pyrrha crashes down, using her opponent as a makeshift cushion and landing with a brutally heavy kick.

  And just like that, the battle is over.

  Or so I think.

  Athena’s voice cuts through the fog of victory, sharp and commanding, as my mind accelerates again.

  “Take a breath,” she says. “Think.”

  I hesitate, her words gnawing at my thoughts. Slowly, I retrace the events of the day, piecing together the subtle signs I missed. My heart sinks as realization dawns, and I cannot honestly believe just how stupid I am. By the time Ozpin emerges from the basement, the fight is already over. He steps into the room with an air of calm, his applause echoing mockingly.

  “Well done,” he says with a faint chuckle, his tone as much a taunt as a compliment. “But I dare say you let your guard down, if only for a moment.”

  Before I can respond, a barrier of light slams into us, pinning the entire team against the wall.

  Exhausted, I dig my heels in and push back against the barrier. My shield barely creates a small gap, but it’s enough to breathe, enough to think, enough for her.

  “Did we, Professor?” I manage to grunt through gritted teeth, my arms trembling from the strain. “Did we?”

  The sharp click of a safety disengaging cuts through the tension. Rin stands behind him, a gun pressed firmly to the back of his head.

  “Oh…” Ozpin’s eyes visibly gleam with something between amusement and admiration. “Now that… is truly remarkable.”

  ?

  The initiation concludes with a small ceremony. One by one, each team steps onto the stage, where they’re formally assigned their names and leaders. Team Juniper—my team. It doesn’t feel real. Somehow, I manage to walk myself off the stage, my head swimming with a thick fog. Leaning against the wall for support, I glance back toward Pyrrha.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

  “Why?” Her radiant smile falters as she turns to me, confusion flickering in her eyes.

  “It should’ve been you,” I continue, my voice heavy. “Today, I was just… following your lead.”

  “Oh, Jaune…” Her expression softens, her eyes shimmering with warmth. She steps forward and wraps her arms around me until we hear the clash of our breastplates.. “I’m just glad we’ll keep fighting together like this. It’s hard sometimes—to have no one to lean on. You’ll be a great leader, I know it. Everyone can see it. And one day, you will too.”

  Her words settle in my heart like a quiet ember, and I smile, though the uncertainty lingers. I wander the academy grounds under the pale light of the moon, my thoughts pacing with me. Eventually, I find my way back to the dormitory, ready to spend my last night as a novice.

  But when I open the door to my room, I’m met with the last thing I’d ever expect.

  Rin is sitting on my bed. Her tall frame is slightly hunched forward, and the soft rhythm of her breathing fills the stillness. Her dark, glossy hair spills loosely around her face and shoulders, a single streak of pink catching the faint glow of the room. Even with the scar running across the bridge of her nose and cheek, her face carries a rare tranquility—peaceful, unburdened.

  She’s sleeping. Sitting upright. On my bed.

  “What… do I…?” I mutter, now fully convinced the last few days have been a fever dream.

  “I swear I’ll talk to Aphrodite first thing in the morning…” Athena’s voice in my mind is as exasperated as I feel. “Just… be gentle. She was probably waiting for you.”

  Steeling myself, I step closer, careful not to make any sudden movements. I poke her forehead lightly, testing the waters. Her head tilts back a bit, but she doesn’t react.

  Gods, she sleeps like a log.

  “Ren…” I whisper, gripping her shoulders gently. I give her a small shake. “Ren!”

  The reaction is immediate—and exactly what I feared. She gasps, now fully awake, her eyes darting wildly around the room. One hand instinctively reaches for one of her weapons, and I take a cautious step back. Her entire frame trembles. She’s shaking like a frightened animal. Tears glisten in her eyes as awareness slowly seeps back into her, clarity pushing the terror away with painful slowness.

  “Hey…” I whisper calmly, circling around her to sit at the end of the bed. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

  Rin doesn’t respond, but the tension in her shoulders slowly begins to ease. The room falls silent save for the uneven rhythm of her breathing. Her fists remain clenched, her knuckles white, then red, as if fighting a battle I can’t see.

  “Thank you,” she finally whispers, her voice fragile as her form vanishes as if she were hiding under the sheets. “People… People don’t usually notice I’m there. Thank you for… for not leaving me behind.”

  Her words twist something deep in my chest. I don’t fully understand what she’s saying, but the pain in her voice is awfully clear. Carefully, I reach out into the empty darkness. For a moment, she flinches, pulling back. But then, after a long pause, she takes my hand and guides it lower, toward her face, holding it there. My thumb brushes against her cheek, warm and damp with tears, until it meets the ridges of her scar. She stiffens under my touch, but doesn’t pull away.

  “What… What happened?” I ask as softly as I can.

  She shakes her head, silent tears slipping free. Cold drops hit my hand, and before I can think, I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m here now. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll keep us safe.”

  Rin trembles as she leans into me, burying her face in my shoulder. Her muffled apology is barely audible, a faint echo of the anguish she’s been carrying inside her soul. We stay like that, time slipping into nothingness. Seconds, minutes, maybe hours. I hold her close, letting her grief seep into me, as if sharing the weight could somehow ease her burden.

  What could have shattered her soul into so many jagged pieces? How had she managed to find her way to me like this—so lost, so raw? She’s not a soldier, not some grand defender of humanity. She’s just a girl: confused, hurt, and scared.

  And I’m supposed to lead them. To guide them.

  This isn’t about me anymore, is it?

  A flicker of warmth spreads through my chest. Athena’s presence lingers for a heartbeat, her silent approval settling over me before vanishing like a soft breeze.

  I won’t let them suffer like this. They deserve better. But if I’m all they have? Then never again.