Within the hermetic confines of the Science, Health, and Technology Laboratory, the soft, rhythmic beeping of Aria's scanner hovering over Jake's arm was the only sound that dared to challenge the focused silence. Reiss, reclined on the treatment cot, watched them, his breathing still shallow but now more regular, the immediate crisis of his wounds having somewhat stabilised under Aria's expert care. Aria herself frowned intently at the complex readings flickering across the scanner's display, her brow furrowed in concentration as the device attempted to make sense of the bizarre energy signature emanating from the mark. Jake, meanwhile, felt the insistent, latent throb beneath his skin, a constant, unsettling reminder of the mystery he now carried – a vibrant, pulsing enigma anchored directly into his own being. They were absorbed in their immediate, internal struggle, a quiet battle waged with science against the encroaching unknown.
And then it happened.
It wasn't a sound that heralded the change. It was a sensation, raw and undeniable. A shockwave of pure, brutal energy that tore through the reinforced walls of the laboratory as if they simply didn't exist, unimpeded and devastating. It was neither the comforting warmth of pure stellar energy they were accustomed to, nor the chilling, biting sting of the abyssal energy they had felt before from Raven. It was… something else entirely. A violent explosion of negative potential, of inherent anti-vitality, that resonated directly in their very bones, vibrating through marrow and sinew with sickening force. The energy monitors mounted around the laboratory immediately went wild, their readouts spiking erratically, and silent alarms flashed angry red across the control panels, screaming a warning that only light could convey.
Aria's handheld scanner shrieked a high-pitched tone, registering a reading so colossal, so far off the charts, it threatened to overload and fry the internal circuits. She gasped sharply, recoiling instinctively from Jake's arm, her eyes wide with alarm and disbelief behind the spectral visor. Reiss winced and curled further into himself on the cot, a low groan of pain escaping his lips as the wave seemed to vibrate through his astral wounds, jarring them anew with its unnatural frequency.
Jake felt the mark on his arm erupt in a searing, jagged pain – not physical in the conventional sense, but intensely energetic, like a newly exposed astral nerve ending had been struck directly by lightning. The constant throb beneath his skin turned violent, syncopated, pulsing wildly in resonance with the raw, alien energy wave that had just slammed into them. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that this explosion came from the direction of the Coliseum. And he knew, with absolute, terrifying clarity, that it meant everything had just fundamentally changed.
Meanwhile, out in the academy's sprawling, manicured gardens, Sophia was sprinting across the main plaza, the heavy, strangely warm CEES prism clutched tightly in her hand. The desolate beauty of the grounds under the moon and the flickering Veil above barely registered in her peripheral vision; her mind was fixed entirely on the distant, ruined structure of the Coliseum and the faint, almost imperceptible sounds of the desperate combat that had reached her even out here. Urgency was her only fuel, a cold fire burning in her stomach born equally of a gnawing fear for her friends and a raw, burning rage at what had been done to Raven, the boy she had once known.
Suddenly, the very air around her felt wrong.
A single, vertical column of visible darkness – not smoke, not shadow cast by light, but a profound, active absence of light and energy – erupted from the precise centre of the Coliseum, shooting upwards into the night sky like an unholy, terrifying beacon. It was a silent eruption, utterly devoid of sound, yet it struck Sophia with an impactful force that resonated not in her ears, but deep within her own astral essence, vibrating her very core. The energy that billowed and emanated from it was overwhelmingly, sickeningly negative, not merely lacking life or warmth, but actively, maliciously opposed to it, pushing against the natural flows of the world.
Sophia skidded to a sudden, breathless halt, gasping for air that suddenly felt thin and cold. Her eyes were fixed, wide with horror and fascination, on the impossible phenomenon. It was massive. Unspeakably powerful. Far, far beyond anything she had ever felt emanate from Raven before, even at his most corrupted moments. This wasn't just an attack or a burst of dark energy. It was… a transformation. A monstrous regeneration.
A cold, crushing terror gripped her chest. If Raven had somehow unleashed that… if Professor Aldrich had somehow pushed him to that point… The implications were stark and horrifying. The professor was in mortal danger. Perhaps, already…
She squeezed the CEES prism in her hand so hard her knuckles turned white, the familiar warmth of the device a strange comfort against the sudden, pervasive chill in the air. "Faster," she murmured to herself, her voice hoarse with effort and fear, forcing her leaden legs to resume their punishing sprint, pouring every last ounce of her exhausted energy into her muscles. The Coliseum, though physically only a few hundred metres away, seemed to have been suddenly yanked light-years distant, an unreachable fortress of horror looming before her.
In the shattered heart of the Coliseum, oblivious to the distant perceptions, Raven Lockhart had just fully straightened up, the abyssal energy that had enveloped him now receding to form a visible, shimmering aura of cold poison around his frame. His eyes, utterly devoid of the pain or confusion that had just been there, shone with a dark, empty light, the terrifying, unbound light of pure, unleashed psychopathy. And a slow, terrible smile, utterly devoid of human emotion or warmth, spread across his lips, a ghastly thing that didn't reach his dead eyes.
He spoke, his voice changed, no longer the boy's, but a chilling whisper that seemed to carry the echo of vast, empty spaces. "Hello, Professor. I'm your worst mistake."
Raven didn't wait for Lysander's response, or for him to recover from the sensory shockwave. He simply lunged. But it wasn't a linear charge, not a direct attack as a fighter would execute. His movements were a nightmarish, grotesque choreography, utterly defying the natural biomechanics of the human body. His torso remained unnervingly rigid, yet his limbs moved with impossible speed and unnatural flexibility, knees bending backwards, ankles twisting at angles no joint should tolerate, propelling him from surfaces that seemed not to exist. He flipped and contorted in the air with a grotesque, unsettling agility, like a puppet whose strings were being manipulated by a sadistic force that mocked the fundamental laws of physics for its own amusement. One instant he was directly in front of Lysander, the next his foot struck a broken column ten metres away, launching him sideways with absurd velocity, that cold, frozen smile plastered on his face as he moved, a silent, terrifying mockery made manifest in physical action.
Lysander evaded. His own agility was astounding, a fluid, elegant dance born of countless years of dedicated astral and physical training. He slid across the debris-strewn, slippery flagstones, pivoted on the heel with the effortless grace of a consummate dancer, leapt over jagged rubble with the lightness granted by pure stellar energy. His movements were fluid, precise, deeply rooted in a profound understanding of the body, space, and energy. It was absolute, disciplined control pitted against chaotic, possessive aberration. He ducked under a whip-crack of abyssal energy that hissed through the air where his head had been an instant before, then twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding a high kick that twisted Raven's knee in an utterly impossible direction during the trajectory.
But Raven's movements weren't just fast; they were horrifyingly unpredictable in their unnaturalness. They seemed absurd, illogical, yet each improbable contortion placed him at a lethal angle, presenting a new, impossible attack vector. Evading him wasn't just reaction; it was a constant, screaming tension, a muscle held tight that could never fully relax. Lysander felt the relentless pressure, not just from the physical attacks, but from the discernible presence of that unnatural energy radiating from Raven, an oppressive weight attempting to suffocate his own pure stellar connection, like trying to breathe vacuum.
Raven performed a bizarre backward flip, landing with a flexibility that defied the human skeleton. Then, in a movement that was instantaneously and incomprehensibly fast, he launched himself forward, not to strike with a fist or kick, but for a chilling gesture. He twisted his torso violently, his arms extending wide to his sides, and then snapped them inwards towards where Lysander's chest was. It wasn't a physical clap against the professor, but a brutal, forceful closing of his hands in the empty space just shy of Lysander's body, generating a concentrated, implosive shockwave of pure abyssal energy at close range.
It wasn't a physical impact felt on the skin and bone; it was a targeted explosion of directed entropy aimed specifically at Lysander's highly attuned astral and physical senses. For one horrifying instant, the professor's world simply disintegrated. Colours inverted violently, sounds distorted into a piercing, intolerable shriek, gravity seemed to simultaneously disappear and return, lurching sickeningly. His senses, honed to impossible perfection by decades of rigorous training, were utterly overloaded by the raw, unnatural dissonance of the attack. He stammered a wordless cry, stumbling back, the pure stellar light gathering in his palm flickering violently and dying out.
It was all the opening Raven needed.
With terrifying, inhuman speed, Raven blurred through the momentary disruption he had just created in Lysander's awareness. His arm shot out, not for a blunt force punch, but with fingers tense and palm open, as if preparing to deliver a forceful push. The abyssal energy around him concentrated into that point, visible now as a dark, trembling halo of sickly energy around his hand. And with brutal, focused force, it sliced effortlessly through Lysander's disoriented guard, burying itself deep into his abdomen.
There was no sound of tearing flesh, no sickening thud of bone. It was a dry, hollow impact, a blow that resonated not in the physical body, but seemed to strike directly at the soul, the very essence of being. The abyssal energy didn't tear or burn; it annulled, cancelling out the vital and astral energy at the point of contact with terrifying finality. Lysander's eyes snapped open wide, the brilliant light in them dimming rapidly, clouding over with utter surprise and an overwhelming, sickening pain that radiated from a wound he couldn't see but could profoundly feel. He looked at Raven, the chilling, vacant smile and empty eyes searing themselves into his consciousness in that final, terrible moment. His body folded in on itself, the invisible impact leaving him breathless, utterly sapped of strength, the connection to stellar energy collapsing completely like a snuffed-out sun. He fell to his knees amongst the rubble, hands clutched desperately over the invisible, gaping hole in his abdomen, his vital essence dissipating into the now truly frigid air of the Coliseum, dissolving into the alien energy that had just struck him down.
Back in the tense silence of the laboratory, the peak of the unnatural energy wave dissipated just as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving behind it a quietude that was now heavy with unanswered questions and an intense, lingering dread. The gentle hum and soft beeping of the monitors slowly returned to their normal patterns, but the clear, gut-wrenching feeling of wrongness remained, stark and undeniable. Aria stared at the scanner, then at Reiss, their faces pale and shocked, reflecting the shared trauma of the energy wave that had just ripped through them, violating the assumed safety of their sanctuary. The mark on Jake's arm was still pulsing violently, its heat increasing, as if the external surge of energy had 'fed' it, the unnatural resonance it carried now confirmed as a direct echo of the monstrous energy that had just been unleashed from the Coliseum.
Jake felt the initial spike of panic begin to recede, replaced by a cold, sharp determination. He looked down at his arm, at the mark that now felt undeniably linked in some terrifying way to the darkness that had just erupted. He thought of Sophia, alone, running directly towards that terrifying burst of power. He thought of Professor Aldrich, whose familiar energy signature hadn't been present in the explosion of regeneration, an absence that could only signify one terrible, tragic thing.
"I can't stay here," Jake said, his voice firm, cutting through the loaded silence in the lab like a sharp blade. He rose from the cot, his body still heavy with exhaustion, his arm burning with the mark's feverish throb, but propelled by an imperious, undeniable need that drowned out his fatigue.
Aria frowned deeply, pushing the spectral visor up onto her forehead. "Jake, what are you saying? You saw that explosion. You felt that energy. It's… monumental. A fundamental aberration. And your arm… we don't know what that mark is or how it will react to being near that source of energy. It's far too dangerous."
"I know," Jake responded, meeting her gaze directly. There was no youthful impetuosity or bravado in his eyes now, but a grim seriousness forged in fear and a dawning sense of responsibility. "I know it's dangerous. I know this mark is a massive problem. But if that energy came from Raven… and Sophia is running towards it… and if Professor Aldrich is no longer…" He didn't finish the sentence, the implication too painful to voice aloud. He looked over at Reiss, still weak and pale on the cot. "You can't move, Reiss. Aria, you are our only hope of understanding what this mark is and what the hell is truly happening on an energetic level. You have to stay here and work."
He took a step towards the heavy metal door, his posture tired but resolute, the decision hardening within him with every breath. "But I… I can move. Maybe the mark is a weakness. Maybe it makes me a target. But it also… it also feels like it's tied into all of this in a way I don't understand. Maybe it's the only way I can even hope to get close. I don't know. But what I do know is that I cannot sit here, safe, knowing Sophia is heading alone towards that… that monstrosity, and that the Professor is in such grave danger, or worse."
He looked back at Aria, seeking understanding more than permission. "This isn't about being a stupid hero, Aria. This is about recognising that someone has to go. And right now, with my limitations and my… my strange connection… I might be the only one who has even a minimal chance of doing something. Of reaching Sophia. Of seeing if the Professor… if he's alive. I'm not going to try and fight that thing. I can't. But I can't just leave them alone."
He stopped before the door panel, his hand hovering over the control dial. His determination was a tangible force in the room, not the loud bluster of a cliché hero, but the quiet, grim resolution of someone who is choosing the hardest, most dangerous path because they feel, deep in their soul, that it is the only one possible. The mark on his arm pulsed beneath his skin with a feverish intensity, as if in silent agreement.
Aria looked at him, her lips pressed into a thin, worried line. She saw the brutal logic in his words, the desperate, imperative need that was driving him. She saw that his decision was already made, deeply rooted in the unfolding situation and in the person Jake was rapidly being forged into.
"Jake…" Reiss began, his voice barely audible, attempting to protest or perhaps offer a word of warning.
Jake offered him a small, strained smile, a blend of gratitude and apology. "Take care, Reiss. Aria… figure this out. Whatever is on my arm… if it's important, the academy will need that knowledge. I'll go to where the energy exploded."
He turned fully to the door panel, his hand moving decisively to operate the control. The laboratory, their brief, fragile sanctuary of science and healing, was left behind. Outside, the night, torn apart by a terrifying, unnatural energy, waited. Sophia was running alone towards it. And Jake, marked by a profound mystery, armed only with desperate determination and a prism he might never get a chance to use, would follow.