The hover-car dropped David back at his apartment just after dark and the crowd had finally thinned some, enough that he could walk through the front door instead of climbing across roofs like some kind of delinquent. His body ached in ways it hadn't since the game, muscle groups he didn't know existed screaming at him for the abuse he'd put them through in that simulator.
He made it up the stairs, down the hall, and collapsed onto his couch without bothering to turn on any lights. For a long moment he just lay there, breathing, existing, letting his mind go blank.
Then his phone buzzed.
And buzzed.
And buzzed.
He groaned and fished it out of his pocket. Lucas, of course, a string of messages that had been accumulating all afternoon.
how'd it go
are you alive
becca's not answering either
did the grandma eat you both
okay seriously answer me
david
DAVID
The last message was from thirty seconds ago. David typed back with one thumb, too tired for full sentences.
Alive and training, i will tell you tomorrow.
The response came instantly: YOU'RE ALIVE GOOD SLEEP WELL TELL ME EVERYTHING TOMORROW
David almost smiled. He set the phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling, that familiar crack running from the corner to the window, and thought about the day.
The grandmother's sharp eyes, her unexpected laugh, the deal they'd struck. Kaito's easy smile and the warning hidden beneath it. Becca's composure cracking for just a second before she slammed it back into place.
And the training. Gods, the training.
He'd fought a copy of himself for hours, first with Kaito watching, then with Becca beside him, then alone while she ran through her own exercises. The simulator adjusted every time he got comfortable, throwing new challenges, new patterns, new ways to fail. By the end he'd stopped counting how many times he'd been knocked down.
But he'd gotten up every time. That counted for something.
His eyes grew heavy. The ceiling blurred.
He was asleep within minutes.
---
Morning came with Lucas letting himself into the apartment, because apparently locks were just suggestions when you'd been friends with someone long enough.
"Rise and shine sleeping beauty, I brought breakfast and also intense curiosity, you have five minutes to eat before the interrogation begins."
David groaned and pulled a pillow over his face. "Too early."
"It's nine-thirty, that's not early, that's practically afternoon." Lucas set containers on the coffee table with unnecessary noise. "Come on, up, eat, talk. I've been patient, I've been so patient, I didn't even call you last night after that one message because I'm a good friend who respects boundaries."
David emerged from under the pillow. "You sent seventeen messages."
"Seventeen is patient for me and you know it." Lucas shoved a container toward him. "Eat. Tell me everything. Start with whether the grandma tried to kill you and work forward from there."
David sat up slowly, his muscles protesting every movement. He took the container, opened it, and started eating while Lucas watched him with barely contained excitement.
"The grandmother didn't try to kill me," he said between bites. "She offered a deal. Training access in exchange for showing up at clan events sometimes."
Lucas's eyebrows shot up. "That's it? Just show up places?"
"I negotiated. I get to choose which events and leave when I want."
"Damn. Look at you, negotiating with assassin grandmas." Lucas leaned forward. "And Becca? How was she?"
David chewed slowly, thinking about Becca's face when she walked out of that meeting, the way her walls went up, the moment of cracks before she smoothed everything over.
"She's complicated," he said finally. "Her family's a lot."
"Yeah, I got that from the whole assassin clan thing." Lucas grabbed his own food. "But is she okay? Like actually okay?"
David thought about Kaito's words, his sister spending her whole life being used by people who claimed to care. He thought about the weight Becca carried, the expectations, the way she talked about fairness like it was a foreign concept.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I think she's used to not being okay. I think that's normal for her."
Lucas was quiet for a moment, which was rare. "That's sad, man. That's really sad."
"Yeah."
They ate in silence for a while, the weight of it settling between them.
Then Lucas said, "So what's next? Training every day? Getting super strong? Revenge quest?"
"Something like that." David finished his food and set the container aside. "Becca said we start real training today. Same time, same place."
"You heading back out there?"
"In a few hours." David stretched, feeling his muscles protest. "Gotta do something first though."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
David stood, ignoring the aches, and walked to his bedroom. He came back with his father's journal and the list of names.
"I need to study this. Learn everything I can about my bloodline, my abilities, the techniques my father developed. And I need to memorize these names, every single one, so I never forget."
Lucas nodded slowly. "Makes sense. You want company or privacy?"
"Privacy, I think. This is..." David trailed off, not sure how to finish.
Lucas understood anyway. He stood, clapped David on the shoulder, and headed for the door. "I'll check in later. Don't disappear too deep into your own head, yeah? That's my job."
The door closed behind him and David was alone again.
He sat on the couch, the journal in his lap, the list of names beside him, and began to read.
---
The journal was more than just training notes. It was a window into his father's mind, his hopes and fears, his love for David's mother, his pride in his clan. David read about techniques for shaping fire, for merging it with earth, for creating defenses and offenses that worked together. He read about meditation practices, breathing exercises, ways to connect with the mana flowing through his blood.
And he read about people.
His father wrote about allies and enemies, about trusted friends and suspected traitors. He wrote about meetings and negotiations, about the slow dance of clan politics that David was only beginning to understand. He wrote about the weight of leadership, the loneliness of command, the constant pressure of being responsible for so many lives.
*Sometimes I look at Seraphina and wonder how she does it,* one entry read. *She carries everything with such grace, such strength. When I'm weak, she holds me up. When I doubt, she believes for both of us. I don't deserve her. I never have.*
*But I'm grateful every day that she chose me anyway.*
David's eyes burned.
*And our son. Our beautiful boy. He's only a few months old and already I can see the fire in him, literally and figuratively. His eyes light up when Seraphina enters the room. He reaches for her, grabs her finger, holds on like he'll never let go.*
*I hope I get to see him grow up. I hope I get to teach him, guide him, watch him become the man I know he can be.*
*But if I don't, if the worst happens, I hope he knows. I hope someone tells him. I hope he understands that we loved him more than anything in this world or any other.*
David closed the journal and set it aside.
He sat there for a long time, not moving, not thinking, just feeling the weight of his father's words pressing against his chest.
Then he picked up the list of names.
Ten of them. Ten people who had taken that future away. Ten people who had made sure his father never got to teach him, never got to watch him grow, never got to see the man he would become.
David read each name carefully, memorizing them, burning them into his memory.
Marcus Vane's father. A government official. A trading CEO. Seven others whose faces he didn't know yet but would learn.
He folded the list and put it in his pocket, close to his heart.
Then he stood, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.
Time to train.
---
The Moon estate looked different in daylight, less like a fortress and more like the beautiful home it pretended to be. Gardens stretched in every direction, carefully maintained, full of flowers David couldn't name and paths that wound in deliberate patterns. Servants moved between buildings with quiet efficiency, barely glancing at him as he passed.
Becca waited at the training facility entrance, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp.
"You're early."
"You said real training starts today. Didn't want to miss it."
Something flickered in her gaze, approval maybe, or just acknowledgment. She turned and led him inside.
The facility was empty except for them, the massive space somehow more intimidating when it was quiet. Becca walked to the center and turned to face him.
"Before we start, I need to know what you can do. Not what you showed in the game, not what you think you can do. What you can actually do right now, with no holding back."
David hesitated. No holding back meant revealing things he'd been hiding, abilities no one knew about, power that would raise questions he wasn't ready to answer.
Becca saw the hesitation. "I'm not asking for secrets, David. I'm asking for capability. If I'm going to train you, I need to know where you're starting from."
She wasn't wrong. But still.
"I'll show you what I can," he said carefully. "Some things I'm still figuring out myself."
Becca nodded like she'd expected that answer. "Fine. Show me fire first. Full output, no restraint. Hit me."
David blinked. "Hit you?"
"You heard me. I'm S-rank shadow, I can handle whatever you throw at me for a few seconds. Hit me with everything you've got."
He stared at her, looking for the joke, the test, the trick. Her expression gave nothing away.
"Fine," he said finally. "Don't blame me if you get singed."
He reached for his fire, the power that lived in his chest, and let it loose.
The flame that erupted from his hands was hotter than anything he'd produced before, a concentrated stream of crimson and gold that roared toward Becca like it wanted to consume her. She moved at the last second, shadow wrapping around her like a cloak, and the fire passed through where she'd been without touching her.
When it faded, she stood twenty feet away, watching him with new eyes.
"That's more than A-rank," she said quietly.
David's heart stuttered. "What?"
"That fire. I've seen A-rank fire, trained with it, fought against it. What you just did was beyond that." She walked toward him slowly. "You're hiding something."
David said nothing.
Becca stopped a few feet away, close enough that he could see the questions in her eyes. "I'm not going to ask what. I told you before, when you're ready to tell someone, I hope you'll consider me and that still stands." She paused. "But if we're going to train together, if we're going to fight together, I need to know what you're capable of. Not the details, not the secrets. Just the power level. So I know how to push you."
David looked at her, this girl who kept surprising him, who saw too much and asked too little and somehow made him want to trust her anyway.
"S-rank," he said quietly. "Both of them are S-rank. Not A. The public ranking is wrong."
Becca's expression didn't change but something shifted in her eyes. "I know."
David blinked. "You know?"
"I suspected at the awakening. The light was wrong for A-rank, the way the obelisk reacted, the way you looked afterward and then the things you've done since, the way you move, the fire just now." She met his gaze. "I've been watching you David. I told you that."
He should have felt exposed, vulnerable or caught. Instead he felt something else, something lighter.
"You didn't tell anyone."
"Not my secret to tell." She held his gaze. "And I meant what I said. When you're ready."
They stood there in the empty training facility, the weight of secrets between them, and for the first time David felt like maybe he didn't have to carry everything alone.
"Thank you" he said.
Becca nodded once. "Now show me what you can really do, no holding back."
David took a breath, reached for his power and let go.