The Brotherhood Of The Damned.

Six months of relentless training, and the pressure was starting to get to me. I could feel my body growing stronger, but it was my mind that was cracking. Every time I thought I had control over my half-vampire nature, it slipped through my fingers. Today, though, it was different. Today, I could almost feel it inside me, clawing its way to the surface. The hunger, the thirst—it was all getting harder to ignore.

Lawrence was pushing me harder than usual. After the weeks of Shotokan Karate, Wing Chun, and basic Flux training, we were now moving into Judo. I had no idea how to throw someone or use their momentum against them. All I knew was how to punch and kick, not grapple or toss a man across the room. But Lawrence was insistent.

"Judo isn't just about throws. It's about control," Lawrence said, as he demonstrated a simple hip throw. "You need to control your body, your opponent's body, and your energy. It's about timing, not strength."

I nodded, trying to pay attention, but my mind wasn't fully in it. It was like I couldn't focus on anything for long enough to get it right. My body was heavy, slow, and my muscles felt like they were made of stone.

"Come at me," Lawrence said, setting his stance. I stepped forward, trying to grab hold of him the way he'd shown me. But my body just wouldn't respond the way I wanted it to. Every move was sluggish, every step heavy. Lawrence sidestepped me with ease and tossed me onto the mat again, his hands firm on my waist.

"Again," he said. His voice was calm, but I could hear the underlying frustration in it.

I got up, trying to shake off the fatigue. The more I struggled, the more I realized how far behind I was. I was supposed to be training to fight vampires, to survive against people who had centuries of experience and mastery in combat. But all I had was the body of a half-human, and the growing strength of something darker.

"You need to focus on your body," Lawrence said, his eyes scanning me. "You're not going to master it overnight, Kyon. But you're making progress."

I didn't feel like I was making progress. My frustration only grew, and as I pushed myself harder, it was becoming more and more apparent that something inside me was starting to change. I felt the hunger claw at the edges of my thoughts, and the thirst... the thirst was starting to get worse.

We spent the next hour working on my Flux training, trying to sharpen my Observation Flux. Lawrence moved around me in a blur, and I struggled to track him. The training was supposed to help me sense danger before it happened, but the more I tried, the more frustrated I became. I could feel the Flux building inside me, but it felt like trying to grab onto smoke. I couldn't hold it, couldn't focus enough to make it useful.

"Focus," Lawrence said, his voice snapping me back to the present. "You're letting the frustration take over. Relax. Let the Flux come to you, don't force it."

I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes. But every time I tried to concentrate, the thirst gnawed at the back of my mind, drowning out everything else. My senses were heightened, but in the wrong way. I could hear the tiniest sounds, smell the faintest traces of blood in the air. It was overwhelming. I felt like I was drowning in my own instincts.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. "I can't do this."

"You're getting better," Lawrence said, his tone softer now. "But you're not there yet. Observation Flux isn't just about seeing. It's about feeling what's around you. You're starting to get it, but you need to trust it."

I nodded, but deep down, I knew I wasn't getting any better. I was just barely keeping it together.

Later that day, Sia came to spar with me, and it was even worse. She was faster, more controlled, and I was struggling to even land a hit. I tried to use Flux to boost my movements, but it flickered in and out, useless. Every time I tried to focus my energy, it slipped away. Sia, on the other hand, moved with precision, using both Flux and martial arts to counter everything I threw at her.

"Your form is off," she said, her tone almost pitying as she dodged my wild strikes. "You need to relax, Kyon. You're trying too hard."

I gritted my teeth and tried again, but this time, something inside me snapped. My vampire side, that dark, animalistic hunger, pushed through like a flood. The strength surged through me, and my movements became faster, more powerful. But with it came the thirst. The undeniable, almost maddening thirst.

Sia's eyes widened in surprise as I shoved her back with a force she hadn't expected. My muscles were too strong, my body moving too fast. My teeth felt sharp, my senses too keen. I could hear her heartbeat, smell the blood in her veins, and every part of me screamed to tear into her.

But I held back. Just barely.

"Kyon," she said, stepping back cautiously. "Stop. You're not in control."

The hunger was clawing at me, demanding to be fed, and for a moment, I almost gave in. But then Lawrence was there, his voice cutting through the haze.

"Enough!" he barked. He grabbed my arm, pulling me away from Sia. "Your vampire side is growing stronger, it seems," he said, his voice grim. "How long have you been feeling it? The thirst?"

I swallowed, trying to push the darkness back. "Since I started training in Flux," I admitted, my voice hoarse.

Lawrence's frown deepened, and he released my arm, stepping back. "I see. That explains a lot."

I looked at him, still struggling to catch my breath. "What does that mean? What's happening to me?"

"This is exactly why I've been pushing you, Kyon," Lawrence said, his voice firm. "You're not just learning how to fight vampires. You're learning how to survive. Your vampire side is awakening. The thirst will get worse. And if you don't control it, you will lose yourself."

I felt a cold chill run through me. This was just the beginning. The hunger wasn't going away. It was only going to get stronger.

"Take the rest of the day off," Lawrence ordered. "Go home. Cool down."

...

Lawrence told me to take the rest of the day to clear my head. But nothing about my walk through the bustling streets of the city felt calming. The sun was starting to dip lower, casting golden light through the trees and buildings, and the faint hum of people around me should have been comforting. It wasn't.

Something was wrong.

The first pang of unease hit me as I passed through a particularly dense section of the crowd. A sensation prickled at the back of my neck—something sharp, like needles brushing against my skin. My chest tightened, and my steps faltered for just a moment. Someone was watching me.

I tried to shake it off. The streets were crowded; people jostled past me, oblivious. A glance over my shoulder revealed nothing but the flow of strangers. But the feeling didn't go away.

It wasn't paranoia. My Observation Flux stirred to life like an instinct, a pulse of awareness that hit me harder than usual. Killing intent. Someone's focus was sharp, unwavering, locked onto me.

I quickened my pace, weaving through the crowd. My heart pounded, and the city suddenly felt too small, too constricting. The weight of those unseen eyes followed me, no matter how many corners I turned.

If I could just lose them—whoever they were—maybe I'd be fine.

The moment I veered into a narrower street, I realized my mistake. The noise of the crowd faded behind me, and I found myself in an alley boxed in by buildings too high to climb. My stomach dropped. The only way out was back through the way I came, but before I could retreat, he stepped into view.

"Running already?" he said, voice low, almost amused.

The man was ordinary at a glance, his frame lean and unassuming. But his eyes were ice-cold, devoid of hesitation, and they locked onto me with surgical precision. His hand flicked forward, and a glint of metal flashed in the dim light.

My body moved before I could think.

The blade—a small throwing knife—whizzed past my shoulder. It embedded itself into the wall behind me with a sharp thunk. The blade missed me by inches, but I knew what it was. Argent. A material designed to kill vampires. And this man was here to kill me.

I turned back to him, my heart racing, as he stepped closer.

"Not bad," he said, his voice calm and calculating. "Let's see how long you can keep that up."

Another flick of his wrist, and this time I saw it—his stance, the shift of his weight, the minute tension in his muscles. My Observation Flux sharpened like a blade. I knew the angle before the knife left his hand, saw it in my mind's eye. My feet moved on their own, pivoting just in time to dodge the second blade.

Muscle memory from six months of training kicked in, and I felt my body respond in ways I hadn't expected. A parry here, a sidestep there—each motion was instinctual, not deliberate. But it wasn't enough.

The hunter was relentless. He closed the distance with a fluid motion, his hand drawing an Argent dagger from his belt. The silver blade gleamed, deadly and precise, as he lunged.

Our fight was chaos. His attacks were overwhelming—swift and precise—but I wasn't helpless. My training flashed through my mind in pieces: Lawrence's voice correcting my stances, the fluid movements of Wing Chun drills. My arms moved almost on their own, redirecting his strikes, the knife's edge grazing my skin but never quite finding purchase.

But I couldn't counter. I saw the openings—his brief hesitations, the overextension of his arm—but my body hesitated. I wasn't aggressive enough, wasn't confident enough to seize the moment and strike back.

The hunter didn't let up. He pressed forward, forcing me toward the wall, cutting off any chance of escape.

I kept fighting to escape, every step edging toward the alley's mouth, but he anticipated it, cutting off my retreat at every turn. His blows came faster, and I couldn't keep up.

One strike grazed me. The Argent blade bit into my arm, searing pain burning through me.

I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the wound sizzle. But then something strange happened—the pain faded almost as quickly as it came. The wound began to close, the silver burn losing its bite.

The hunter froze for a fraction of a second, his expression shifting from calculated indifference to surprise.

"That shouldn't be possible," he muttered. "Even half-bloods don't heal that fast from Argent."

His words rattled me, but I didn't have time to dwell on them. The distraction was enough for me to slip past his guard. I ducked under his arm, my feet carrying me instinctively toward the exit.

He cursed, spinning around to pursue, but I was already running.

The city became a blur as I pushed myself forward, my breath ragged and uneven. My Observation Flux burned in my mind, alerting me to every sound, every movement behind me. I couldn't tell if he was still following me, but I wasn't about to slow down to find out.

I darted through alleys, weaving through the streets and doubling back on my path, trying to lose him. My heart pounded in my chest, and my senses were on overdrive. Every shadow felt like a threat, every sound like a whisper of danger.

By the time I made it back to the library, an hour had passed, though it felt like an eternity. My clothes were torn, bloodied in places, but there were no visible wounds. My body had healed itself completely, though my muscles still ached from the fight.

I pushed through the library doors, my legs trembling beneath me. Lawrence and Sia were there, their conversation halting the moment they saw me.

"Kyon?" Lawrence's eyes narrowed, taking in the state of me. "What happened?"

I caught my breath, heart still pounding. "Hunter," I said. "He… he was waiting for me."

Lawrence's expression darkened. "And you survived. Barely."