Lucian’s mind floated in the abyss, weightless and slipping away.


    Then, a voice.Cold. Familiar. Inhuman.


    "Didn’t I tell you?"


    Lucian’s fading heart twitched.


    The voice chuckled—a dark, knowing sound.


    "You’re not ready to fight."


    Lucian’s mind screamed, but his body lay paralyzed.


    Then, from the depths of unconsciousness—


    A whisper.


    "Have a nice sleep. Let me take it from here."


    The battlefield fell silent.


    Lucian lay motionless in the blood-soaked snow, his body shattered, his wounds gaping, his pulse a slowing whisper.


    The enemy soldiers stepped over his corpse, already celebrating their victory.


    Then—


    Lucian stood.


    The cheers died.


    Gasps rang through the ranks.


    It was impossible.


    A moment ago, he had been dead.


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    Yet now, he was rising, his movements unnatural, his spine snapping into place with an audible crack. His head tilted at an odd angle as if he were adjusting to his own body.


    The air around him thickened, heavy with something dark and primal.


    One soldier, trembling, took a step forward, extending his sword to check if Lucian was truly alive.


    SNAP!


    Lucian’s teeth sank into his wrist.


    The soldier screamed.


    Lucian lunged forward, dragging him to the ground like a starving predator, his jaw locking on flesh, tearing through tendons.


    Blood sprayed into the air.


    "AAAAHHH! GET HIM OFF ME!"


    The others scrambled back, horror twisting their features.


    More soldiers rushed in, their instincts screaming at them to stop him before he tore through them all.


    They grabbed Lucian, striking him, kicking him, their boots slamming into his ribs and skull.


    But—


    It didn’t stop him.


    Their fists felt like whispers against his skin.


    One soldier, desperate, rammed his sword into Lucian’s back—


    It sank in deep.


    Lucian didn’t flinch.


    The soldier’s eyes widened in horror.


    Lucian simply turned his head, his lips curling into a slow, terrifying smile.


    The wind howled. The trees whispered.


    Something wasn’t right.


    The commander’s face darkened.


    "Kill him."


    The order rang through the battlefield.


    The soldiers surged forward.


    But Lucian was gone.


    A blur. A shadow. A phantom.


    Steel slashed through empty space.


    Lucian appeared behind them.


    He was playing with them.


    A soldier swung—Lucian ducked.


    Another lunged—Lucian sidestepped, twisting impossibly fast, slicing the man’s throat in one fluid motion.


    A third came from behind—Lucian feigned a stumble. The soldier’s confidence surged—


    Mistake.


    Lucian let the blade graze his arm before twisting mid-fall, using the momentum to drive his sword upward—through the man’s gut.


    The soldier choked, blood spilling from his lips.


    Lucian yanked the blade free.


    Bodies fell. Screams rose.