Chapter 50: Failure’s Dawn
[Leo’s POV]
I stood before the capsule, staring at its sleek surface. The faint runes carved into the glass glowed soft blue, pulsing slowly like a heartbeat. Behind , I could feel them—Mom, Dad, Mia, Lyra. Everyone who believed in .
Everyone I’d promised to co back to.
The training hall was silent. Even the mana-lamps seed to dim, like the world itself was holding its breath.
I turned.
Mom stood closest, her hands clasped tight in front of her. Her platinum-silver hair was ssier than usual—she’d been running her fingers through it all morning, trying to hide her nerves behind that brave face she always wore.
Those erald eyes of hers were wet, shimring, but she was trying so hard not to fall apart. Trying so hard to be strong for .
I walked over and pulled her into a hug. She lted into
imdiately, her arms wrapping around my back, holding on like I might disappear if she let go. Like she could keep
here through sheer will.
"Leo." Her voice cracked on my na. Just that one word, and it shattered sothing inside .
I held her tighter, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender that always clung to her. "I’m coming back, Mom."
She didn’t say anything. Just held
tighter, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs she was trying so hard to suppress.
When she finally let go, her face was a ss of tears she didn’t bother to wipe away anymore. She just looked at , drinking in every detail like she was morizing my face.
Dad stepped forward. He didn’t say much—he never did when it really mattered. Just grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. Once. Hard. Those ocean-blue eyes, the sa ones I saw in the mirror every morning, locked onto mine with an intensity that made my throat tight.
"Co back, son."
It wasn’t a request or a hope. It was an order. The kind only a father could give—gruff and steady, hiding a world of fear behind two simple words.
I nodded at him. "...I will."
Then Mia.
She was clutching Sir Fluffington the Second against her chest, her little fingers buried in the stuffed fox’s fur. Those big blue eyes were wide and watery, her lower lip trembling in that way it did when she was trying really hard not to cry.
She didn’t understand what the trial really ant but she knew I was leaving. She knew it was serious.
"Leo?" Her voice was so small.
I knelt down to her level, ignoring the way my knees protested. "Yeah, kiddo?"
"You promised." She held up her pinkie, her tiny finger extended like a lifeline. "Pinkie promise."
I wrapped my pinkie around hers. "Pinkie promise."
She smiled. That smile. The one that made everything worth it. The one that reminded
why I had to survive.
I stood up and looked at Lyra.
She stood apart, like she always did. Arms at her sides, posture straight, face calm. Those erald eyes watched
with that quiet intensity I’d gotten so used to over these months.
But I saw it—the slight tremor in her fingers, the way her jaw was set just a little too tight, the almost invisible tension in her shoulders that she couldn’t quite hide.
I walked over to Lyra, stopping just in front of her. She looked at
with those calm eyes, waiting.
I opened my arms.
For a heartbeat she didn’t move. Then she stepped forward and hugged —tight and quick, the kind of hug that said more than words ever could. Like she was afraid this might be the last chance she got.
"Young Master." Her voice was muffled against my shoulder, quieter than I’d ever heard it. "Please co back."
"I will, Lyra." I held her for a mont, then let go.
She stepped back. Her eyes were red around the edges, but she didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.
"Thank you," I said. "For everything. For staying. For never giving up on ."
She nodded, jaw tight, not trusting her voice.
I looked at all of them one last ti. Mom, crying openly now, tears streaming down her cheeks without sha. Dad, standing tall, pride and fear fighting for space in his eyes beneath that calm exterior.
Mia, holding up her stuffed fox, waving at
with that brave little smile that made my chest ache. Lyra, watching
like she was trying to burn my image into her mory.
"...I’ll be back." I said it loud enough for all of them to hear, putting every ounce of conviction I had into those words. "I promise."
Then I turned and climbed into the capsule.
The inside was padded and comfortable, lined with more of those glowing runes that pulsed with quiet energy. I lay back and stared at the ceiling, feeling the hum of power vibrating through the glass, through my bones, through my very soul.
The lid closed over
with a soft hiss.
Silence. Just my breathing. My heartbeat. The faint hum of the capsule’s systems waiting to do whatever they were designed to do.
Then a screen appeared before my eyes.
『 PATH AWAKENING TRIAL 』
Do you accept?
YES --- DEATH
I stared at the options. Just two. Accept or die.
"Really...?" I muttered, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "They don’t even give
a choice?"
The screen just waited, indifferent to my sarcasm.
I stared at the DEATH option for a second too long. The thought crossed my mind—what if I just clicked it? Pointless rebellion against a screen that didn’t care either way.
But I couldn’t.
Too many people were counting on . Mom’s tears. Dad’s hand on my shoulder. Mia’s pinkie promise. Lyra’s hug.
Fuck it.
I let out a breath.
"Yeah. Fine."
I reached out and pressed YES.
The hum grew louder, deeper, resonating in my chest like a second heartbeat. Light seeped through the glass—soft at first, gentle gold, then brighter, more intense, until it was blinding. It wrapped around , warm and all-consuming, seeping into my skin, my bones, my soul like it was rewriting
from the inside out.
My consciousness started fading.
The edges of my vision blurred. The training hall, my family, the capsule—all of it dissolving into white, into nothing, into sowhere else entirely.
Then I heard it.
[...Host.]
Nova’s voice. Low. Quiet. Different from anything I’d ever heard from him before.
Nova...?
[Listen to , Host.] His voice was urgent. Desperate. Sothing I’d never heard in all our ti together. [I know you’re strong. I know you can survive this. But—]
"Hey!" I tried to focus, tried to hold onto his voice, but my thoughts were slipping away like water through my fingers, dissolving into the white. "What are you—what’s happening? Tell —"
[Not now, Host! I can’t go with you into the trial. You’ll be alone in there. Completely alone.]
His voice sharpened, cutting through the fog for just a mont.
What...?
[But I know you can do this.]
His voice softened, and for the first ti, I heard sothing I never thought possible from my sarcastic, annoying, endlessly frustrating companion.
[I know you’re strong enough to survive. So please—]
A screen appeared in front of . Nova’s face—those two glowing eyes I’d seen so many tis, always dry, always unimpressed—looked back at . And then, I saw sothing in them.
Sadness.
[Please take care of yourself, Leo.]
Nova, what are you—
[I believe in you.]
Then the screen faded. Nova’s voice faded. Everything faded.
And the white swallowed
whole.
_
Blood.
So much blood.
It was everywhere—on the ground, splattered across broken walls, pooled in cracks and craters like crimson water after a storm.
The air was thick with it, heavy and copper-sweet, coating my tongue with every ragged breath I fought to draw. The stench of death clung to everything, so overwhelming it was almost a taste, almost a texture against my skin.
I tried to move. Pain exploded through my body—white-hot, agonizing, everywhere at once. I looked down.
My left arm hung at a wrong angle, bones shattered into jagged pieces that pushed against the skin from inside. My chest rose and fell in shallow, rattling gasps that sounded wrong, wet, like breathing through a straw filled with fluid.
A deep gash ran across my stomach, edges gaping, blood pulsing out with each weak heartbeat and pooling beneath
in a dark, spreading stain that grew larger by the second.
...Ah.
This is it.
Around , bodies. Dozens of them. Maybe more. I couldn’t count anymore—couldn’t focus past the pain, past the fog creeping in at the edges of my vision.
They were just... there.
Pieces of people who used to be alive, who used to have nas and families and dreams. Torn apart. Ripped open. Scattered across the ground like soone had spilled a bucket of broken dolls and walked away.
Everyone I’d ever known. Everyone I’d tried to protect.
All dead.
All gone.
A figure moved at the edge of my vision.
I forced my head up. Every movent was agony, fire racing through my nerves, muscles screaming in protest—but I did it anyway. I needed to see.
He stood there at the edge of the carnage.
Tall. Silent. His face hidden in shadow, features impossible to make out in the dim light.
But I could feel him. Could feel the weight of his presence, the casual cruelty of soone who had done this a thousand tis before. He stood among the bodies like they were nothing. Like we were nothing.
My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth would crack. Sothing hot and angry flared in my chest—not fear, not despair. Rage. Pure, burning, incandescent rage that cut through the pain like a blade.
You.
I tried to speak. Tried to curse him, to scream at him, to demand answers, to do sothing. But all that ca out was a wet, broken rasp, blood bubbling on my lips with every failed word.
He raised his sword.
The blade caught the dim light—cold and sharp and beautiful in its terrible purpose. It glead. Waited. Hung above
like the answer to every question I’d ever asked.
"...I can’t believe he chose you." The voice was calm, almost tired. "What a disappointnt."
The sword rose higher.
"You’re not special. You’re just the last one left."
I stared at him, at the sword gleaming in the dim light, at the death waiting for
with open arms. Sowhere in the back of my mind, a voice whispered that this was it—the end of the road, the final page, the last breath.
...How did everything go so wrong?
Mom. Dad. Mia. Lyra. Nova.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.
A tear slipped down my cheek—warm against skin gone cold. I didn’t rember when I’d started crying. Maybe I’d been crying this whole ti.
My hand curled into a fist, nails biting into my palm hard enough to draw blood. I looked up at him and poured everything I had left into that stare—weeks of training, months of hope, years of finally believing I could be sothing more. All of it, right there.
He just watched. No anger, no satisfaction—just the mild boredom of soone finishing a chore. Then his lips curved into sothing almost like a smile.
"Finally."
The sword ca down.
_
[End of Volu 1: Failure’s Dawn]
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