Two men and a lightless panther walk down a curved hallway, its walls coated in cave morels.

  Both men are dressed for battle. Their garments—mana-infused to endure spellwork—hang beneath midnight-blue hoods embroidered with a stylized gold sun. Golden eyes gleam beneath those hoods, one pair shining slightly brighter than the other. Each wears long hair, though the weaker man’s is cropped a bit shorter.

  Koln woke me up today—apparently we’re leaving for Old Aresia. This time, instead of turning left, we head right into the unexplored section. ’Strange that I never checked it out during my long stay; to be fair, I was preoccupied.’

  We pass countless doorways. The panther rubs against my legs as we walk, seeking attention?

  At last we reach the corridor’s end: a massive doorway twice the size of any other. Beyond lies pitch-blackness—so dark even mana-sharpened eyes can’t pierce it.

  Koln gestures for me to wait. The panther and I linger, its whiskers brushing my fingers while it pesters me for scratches.

  A moment passes. Then the doorway begins to glow, and blue fire flares in the lamps mounted along the frame. Mana hangs in the air; Koln must have triggered the lights.

  He turns and beckons me forward. The chamber beyond is barren except for the glowing lamps and a huge circular stone slab in the center, etched with runes.

  I step beside him.

  “This will warp us,” he says. “Voi will hide in your shadow.”

  “Voi?” I glance at the panther—so that’s its name. ’Bit late to learn that, but whatever.’ “And what do you mean, hide in my shadow?”

  Koln nods at the cat. Voi melts into pure darkness and slides into my footsteps—so that’s how it disappears.

  “Nice. So we’re warping to Aresia. Where exactly?”

  Koln chuckles; the sound unsettles me. “You’ll see.”

  He strides onto the center of the slab and motions for me to follow. ’Guess this thing is the medium.’ The moment we stand inside the carved ring, he raises his arms. Mana pours from him into the stone, the runes blazing until a shimmering veil encloses us.

  “Remember,” he says quietly, “I observe—and everyone is an enemy.”

  Light erupts—brighter than the sun. Vision whites out; a humming pressure deafens me. My body feels dismantled and reforged, twisted like hot iron. Scents flood my nose—sweet perfume, rancid decay—until everything slams back into place.

  I collapse, palms smacking dirt. Nausea surges, and I retch.

  When my eyes clear, I see cratered earth, shattered jungle trees, vines still burning. Corpses—some charred, some not—litter the ground. Bullets whistle past.

  The air reeks of blood, smoke, and gunpowder.

  We’ve dropped into the middle of a jungle war zone. Koln is nowhere in sight.

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  ’So when he said “war,” he meant right now.’ Instead of panic, a thrill rushes through me. I tremble—in a good way. I’m stronger now; I bet I could single-handedly take on an attack-mage.

  Koln warned me—everyone here is an enemy. Back in the lab he added that we’d have to do some conquering to fulfill the promise. He never gave a reason beyond ‘it has to happen,’ and I’m not exactly opposed; I love fighting, and conquering usually requires plenty of it. Some people might gripe about this bare-knuckled acceptance of violence, but ‘this is what I want.’ I don’t care about right or wrong—I just want to flood myself with the delight of combat. Ever since the numbness lifted I feel alive, human, and nothing makes me feel it more than a good fight.

  And if this war also lets me chase answers while doing what I love, all the better. It’s not like Koln is evil; I actually think he cares about me—just in a very strange way. Maybe my blind trust will betray me, but right now my hunger for battle drowns out everything else.

  I stand between two forces clashing in the jungle, leaving only ruin in their wake.

  ’Left or right—that’s the question clawing at me. Which side do I fight first?’

  A shot rings out—Clank!

  The bullet flattens against my mana shield. ’Right it is.’

  Lightning crackles through me, and in a blink I’m standing in front of the shooter. One swipe—his head rolls before he can even register I’ve moved.

  The kill sparks a flicker of satisfaction, but it isn’t a challenge. ’I want a real fight. If someone’s going to take a shot at me, fine—but they’d better make it interesting.’

  I keep moving toward the right-side front, turning that kill over in my head. ’Maybe I’ve become a monster. Shouldn’t I feel disgusted after taking a life?’ Instead, I only feel satisfaction. ’Is it because he was a warrior trying to kill me, or do I just enjoy killing?’ I decide it’s the former—he was a soldier who meant me harm. Killing a civilian wouldn’t thrill me at all. So I’m not claiming to be good, but I’m not completely evil either.

  As I press toward the right-side front, the ambient mana thickens—I can feel each soldier like a faint spark on the edge of my senses. ’Dropped right into no man’s land, huh? And that last guy… what was he doing so far out?’ I’ve been walking nearly ten minutes now with nothing but distant artillery for company, and that’s exactly where I’m headed.

  Then the guns fall silent. ’Which means… an advance is coming.’

  A lone soldier breaks from the tree line and spots me. He sprints straight at me, rifle rising. ’Right—charge after the barrage.’

  He fires. The bullet slices empty air; I’m already behind him. One clean swipe—another head hits the dirt.

  Clank! Clank! Clank!

  Bullets hammer my back, flatten against the shield, and plink to the ground like pellets.

  I pinpoint the shooters—four to the left, eight to the right. Smaller group first.

  Lightning flares and I blur forward, after-images crackling in my wake. Their wild bursts can’t track me. I reach the first man—one swipe, he’s down. I pivot; rounds ping off the shield as I drive the next soldier into the earth, the ground caving beneath the impact. A third falls, sliced clean in half; blood spatters over me while I grin like a madman. ’Maybe I really am evil.’

  The last of the four bolts. A snap of lightning from my palm chars him and the foliage around him.

  I turn to the cluster of eight. ’This is fun—but a bigger challenge would be nice.’

  I close in, grab one of them, and use him as a meat shield— not that I need it. His comrades don’t hesitate; they riddle him with holes. I hurl the corpse like a cannonball, obliterating it and one of his compatriots. The remaining six freeze for a heartbeat, horror etched on their faces, yet they keep firing. Impressive. Lightning flickers as I blur through their line—slice, flash, slam, kick. Three more drop: one neatly decapitated, one crushed into the mud, another kicked clean through a tree.

  Three left. I zip forward—then a fireball detonates, engulfing all of us in a roar of heat. I stride from the flames unharmed, but a new opponent hovers above the treeline: an attack-mage, floating and lobbing explosions. Unlike the first one I fought, he isn’t wearing a lunatic’s grin—his face is grim. ’Seems I’m the crazy-looking one now.’

  I glance up just as he flings another fireball, the blast carving a fresh crater in the jungle floor. When the smoke clears, I’m gone. He sweeps the area, searching—then spots a blur of lightning streaking toward him. He fires again; the explosion blossoms around me, but I tear through unscathed, grab his leg mid-air, and whip him down like a hammer. The impact hollows out the earth and leaves him disabled.

  I drop into the crater’s lip to admire my handiwork. A last, defiant fireball whistles past my ear. ’Persistent.’ I raise my palm—Zap!—and fry him where he lies.

  ’Better, but still too easy.’

  I keep pushing on, mowing through wave after wave of soldiers too weak to slow me. Bodies pile behind me like stepping-stones, each one a testament to their failed attempts. At last I reach their main defensive line.

  A massive ward shimmers over the position—an iridescent dome of mana strong enough to warp the air around it.

  I walk straight up to the barrier and press my hand against it; it’s nearly as strong as the cave ward.

  I funnel mana into the shell, probing for a weak seam while they treat me like a target dummy. Bullets spark off my shield as I work.

  There—the flaw. The power that cracked the cave wards is plenty for this. Mana floods from me into the dome until the lattice saturates and overloads. The ward shatters like glass with a deafening crack, and the mana stones anchoring it detonate in blue flashes, ripping apart the soldiers clustered nearby. Hundreds more remain, all eager to kill me. ’Mercy isn’t on today’s agenda.’

  I stroll forward, bullets pinging off the shield. ’Might as well take it slow—once this lot is gone, only the left front remains. Funny, I feel the same sorrow you get when saying goodbye to a friend.’

  I’m deep inside their lines now. With rifles useless, some soldiers charge at me hand-to-hand; a few even fall to their own friendly fire. The closest lunges with a trench spade, the blade screeching across my barrier without a scratch. I grab him by the collar and fling him into the rushing crowd, sending bodies sprawling. A bolt of lightning leaps from my palm—only to crash against a shimmering sword. Someone blocked it.

  Another mage. ’Good.’