The academy's western woods stretched far ahead, filled with old oaks and tall pines that blocked out the sky.
Their branches formed a thick canopy overhead, dulling the sounds of the outside world. Leaves rustled softly, and birds darted between the trees, their calls blending into a calm, steady noise.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy in thin lines. Dust drifted in the air. Moss brightened where the light reached, and pale wildflowers grew through the underbrush. The air smelled of pine, damp earth, and faintly sweet vines.
Kael's boots crunched over a carpet of fallen brittle twigs.
Why bring me here specifically? The lecture hall would've been easier. More controlled. Unless he doesn't want witnesses. Unless this is about something he can't risk being overheard.
Professor William walked three paces ahead, his stride was measured, but Kael noticed the tension in his shoulders the way his hand occasionally drifted toward the leaves before falling away again.
He's nervous.
The thought cut off abruptly.
They stepped into a small clearing where an ancient statue stood, half claimed by the forest. Thick vines wrapped its weathered stone, flowers blooming from the cracks. The face was worn smooth, its expression unreadable.
Moss covered the ground at the base, soft and untouched, with petals scattered like they'd been left behind.
The clearing felt quieter than the woods beyond.
William stopped before the statue, then slowly turned to face Kael fully, and something in his expression made Kael's pulse quicken.
"Activate your system." The words fell simple and direct.
Kael's jaw tightened on instinct. The dull ache in his neck from his spar with Aurélien flared hot and sudden.
"My system?"
"Yes. Your system," William replied evenly. "I want you to activate it."
Is this some kind of test? Kael's gut clenched. He knew for a fact that activating his system wasn't something he'd mastered if he was being honest, he didn't even know how to.
He pushed the thoughts down, then forced his breathing steady, and reached inward for that familiar sensation. The void that lived in his chest. The interface that had saved his life and changed it.
The forest remained exactly as it was birds singing their songs, wind teasing leaves into gentle motion, sunlight painting everything in gold and green. No surge of power. No crimson text bleeding across his vision.
Just... nothing.
"It's not responding," Kael admitted, the words tasting like failure on his tongue. "It never does."
William's expression didn't change. "Try again."
Of course. Because the first humiliation wasn't enough.
Kael closed his eyes this time, shutting out the distractions of light and movement. He focused deeper, pulling at the threads of power he knew existed somewhere inside him. The void stirred he felt it shift like a sleeping beast rolling over in its den but it didn't wake. Didn't rise to answer his call.
His fists clenched at his sides.
A second attempt yielded the same emptiness. As if the interface had decided he wasn't worthy.
On the third try driven more by frustration than hope something flickered in his vision.
A glitch. A text that appeared and vanished too quickly to read.
William nodded slowly, and Kael realized with uncomfortable certainty that the professor had expected this. Had known this would happen.
He's testing something specific. This wasn't about seeing if I could activate it he already knew I couldn't. So what is this really about?
William moved to the statue's base and sat on the low pavement stone surrounding it. He settled himself with deliberate care, his elbows coming to rest on his knees, fingers steepled thoughtfully beneath his chin.
"Most systems," William began, "activate on sheer will alone. The user's intent serves as the bridge between consciousness and the System Lattice.
"Desire becomes command. Thought becomes action." He paused, eyes fixed on Kael with uncomfortable intensity. "But yours... the Curse Tyrant Interface... I suspect it operates on fundamentally different principles."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Different how?"
The question came out sharper than intended, edged with defensiveness he couldn't quite suppress. Why is mine different? Why can't anything about this be normal?
William leaned forward slightly, and the quality of his attention shifted.
"It could require an objective. Not just vague desire or general intent, but a clear, defined purpose. Something concrete and specific to channel the activation." He spread his hands. "That's my working theory, at least. Unproven until we test it properly."
Kael's mind immediately raced backward.
Against Corvin. I was dying. Bleeding out on stone while he prepared to finish me. The objective wasn't 'activate system' it was 'survive.' Clear. Simple. Desperate.
Against Aurélien. I wanted to prove I wasn't weak. To show I belonged. 'Don't lose' became the objective. Specific enough to trigger that partial sync.
His eyes widened fractionally as the pattern clicked into place. "It needs a goal," he said slowly, working through the logic aloud. "Not just 'turn on' or 'give me power.' Something tangible. Like... destroying something specific."
Or someone. The thought whispers from somewhere dark.
William's expression changed, approval lighting his features in a way that made him look younger, more like an excited researcher than stern professor. "Precisely."
"Systems like yours rejection-based, anti-sorcery by fundamental design might thrive specifically on intent tied to negation. To destruction. To unmaking."
He stood abruptly and reached up to a low branch of an old fruit tree that had slowly pushed its way among the conifers. With a soft snap, he plucked a perfect, glossy red apple, its skin catching the sunlight like it had been polished.
"Destroy this," William said simply, turning back to Kael with the apple resting in his palm like an offering.
Kael stared at the fruit in confusion. The apple was maybe three inches in diameter, unblemished, the kind of perfect specimen that would've commanded premium price in market. "Why an apple?"
Of all the tests, of all the demonstrations an apple? This feels absurd. Childish.
"If objective-based activation is your system's mechanism, we need to confirm it experimentally." William's voice took on the patient tone of a teacher explaining basic principles to a struggling student.
"This provides a clear target. No moral ambiguity. No risk of collateral damage." He lifted the apple slightly. "Focus: your singular goal is this fruit's complete destruction. Clear your mind of everything else. Make it the only thing that matters in this moment."
Kael hesitated. What if it spirals? What if I can't control the output?
"It's worth the risk," William said quietly, and something in his tone suggested he'd read the hesitation accurately. "We're in a controlled environment. I'm here to intervene if necessary. And you need to understand your system's parameters before circumstances force you to use it blindly again."
He's right. I hate that he's right. Every time it's activated, I've been reacting desperate, cornered, half-dead. Never in control. Never prepared.
Kael nodded once. He extended his right hand toward the apple in William's palm close but not touching it, his fingers spread, as if he could somehow grasp it from a distance.
His eyes closed, shutting out the clearing, the professor, the forest symphony. Only darkness and the void within.
Destroy it, he commanded internally, the thought crystallizing with laser focus. Reduce it to nothing. Completely. Totally. Make it cease to exist as matter.
His intent sharpened like a whetstone on steel, turning desire into weapon. The void responded, coiling and surging with sudden eagerness. It rose through him like water up a well, spilling into his arm, hand, and fingertips.
Red mist evolved around his extended hand. It moved with purpose, tendrils reaching hungrily toward the apple as if the energy itself possessed appetite.
The aura amplified, expanding, and Kael felt the shift in his chest.
Red-black lightning sparked around his fingers, flickering in short, sizzling bursts that smelled sharply of ozone. The air hummed with restless energy, making Kael's teeth chatter and his bones ache.
The temperature in the immediate vicinity dropped several degrees, William's breath briefly visible.
Then the interface manifested.
The text bled across Kael's vision in crimson luminescence, each character sharp and clean, hanging in the air between him and the apple:
[ CURSE TYRANT INTERFACE: ACTIVATE ]
► User Online
[Objective Recognized: Destroy Target]
[Nullification Protocol: Active]
[Power Level: Minimal Output]
[Warning: Extended Activation May Cause Physical Degradation]
The words pulsed once, twice, then faded still visible but no longer dominating his vision.
William's eyes widened fractionally, impressed and Amused. His lips curved in a rare smile that transformed his usually stern features. "Remarkable," he breathed, the word barely audible.
The apple began to react.
Its glossy skin wrinkled, creases appearing as if the fruit had aged decades in seconds.
The red darkened, shifting to brown, then deepening to black. The flesh beneath the skin followed, it's cellular structure breaking down at accelerated rates that defied natural law. Moisture evaporated, Sugars caramelized and then carbonized.
Within fifteen seconds, what had been a perfect fruit crumbled to fine black ash in William's palm, powder so light it began drifting away immediately on the clearing's minimal breeze, dissipating like smoke from a snuffed candle.
William stood perfectly still, staring at his ash-stained hand with fascination.
"Remarkable," he repeated, this time louder, turning his palm to examine the residue from different angles. He brushed it off carefully.
"Anti-thaumic degradation. You didn't apply force or heat or any conventional destructive method. The contact alone no, not even contact, proximity unraveled the apple's structure at the molecular level."
Kael stared at his own hand, the red mist already fading back into his skin. His heart hammered against his ribs not from exertion exactly, but from the sheer rightness of what had just happened.
The void had answered. The system had obeyed. For the first time since awakening, he'd activated it deliberately, with intention, with control.
I did that. Not Ravok. Not some ancient curse taking over. Me. Kael.
The satisfaction was immediately complicated by unease. But was it really me? Or was that the void responding to something Ravok understood intrinsically?
"It worked," Kael managed, his voice coming out rougher than expected.