what are you???

The Next Morning

At the end of class, Mr. Storm projected a screen in front of the whole class. A list of names appeared, sorted and classified differently.

"Please look at this carefully and see where your name is, as tomorrow will mark the start of your combat classes," Mr. Storm announced.

The list was divided into four different categories, each one based on the strengths and weaknesses a student might have or lack:

Mana Control Class

Familiar Combat Class

Physical Enhancement Class

Willpower Control Class

"Feel free to choose whichever class you believe suits you best. Students are also allowed to switch between combat classes if they wish," Mr. Storm continued. "However, the one your name is assigned to is compulsory, as the military believes it best suits your abilities."

The list of available classes was then sent to each student's wristwatch, where they were required to register for the classes they were interested in.

"I wonder which class is best suited for me," Kyle thought while scrolling through the list. "I'd like to focus on physical enhancement, willpower, and mana control so I can start learning how to control my familiar."

---

After classes had finished for the day, Darius had once again offered to help Jace with his training, especially since the two of them would be in the same combat class—Familiar Combat Class—starting tomorrow. Since both of them already had a familiar, it made sense for them to train together.

"Hey, do you want to come with us?" Jace asked Kyle.

"Nah, don't bother. I don't think I'd be of much help or learn anything anyway," Kyle replied.

Once Kyle had left, Darius and Jace remained in the room. Darius's expression shifted as he turned to Jace with a serious look.

"Hey, have you noticed Kyle's hair?" Darius asked. "It looks like there's more white in it than before."

Jace frowned slightly, recalling the previous day's events. "Come to think of it, the white portion of his hair wasn't as large during the test."

Jace forced a nervous smile, uncertain whether to say more. "Maybe he's just trying a new hairstyle… or maybe his genetics make him age like an old man."

---

Kyle, of course, had decided to ditch them.

Although most lessons in military school focused on combat and the use of technology, science remained a core subject. It was thanks to scientists that humanity had discovered how to harness the various technologies they had today.

Because of this, students were encouraged to continue studying science throughout their service time, in hopes that some would pursue it further in the future.

Kyle wandered through the academy grounds, his hands tucked into his pockets as he tried to shake off the lingering conversation between Darius and Jace.

"More white strands?" he thought. He hadn't paid much attention to it, but now that they mentioned it, it did seem like his hair was gradually changing. It wasn't just a trick of the light or exhaustion.

Finding a quiet spot near the academy's training field, Kyle sat on a bench, staring at his wristwatch. The screen still displayed the list of combat classes. He could choose to focus on physical enhancement, mana control, or willpower training—all things that could help him understand himself better.

"I need to get stronger."

That much was obvious. The military had assigned him a class based on what they thought suited him, but they didn't know the truth. They didn't know about Boneclaw. They didn't know about the contract he had formed in the flames of his death.

And even he barely understood it.

Ever since that day, something had been changing inside him—subtle, yet undeniable. His mana felt… different. Not weaker, not stronger, just wrong. There were moments, brief ones, where it felt like the air around him was colder than it should be, where shadows stretched toward him like they were drawn by something unseen.

The thought unsettled him, but he shoved it aside. Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything.

"For now, I should focus on training. If I get stronger, I can figure this out on my own."

His fingers hovered over the Physical Enhancement Class on his wristwatch. He hesitated. Should he pick it? Or should he focus on Mana Control instead?

Whichever he chose, it would shape his training for the days to come.

---

Kyle stood alone in the academy's training hall, his breath steady but his mind restless. The overhead lights cast long shadows across the floor, the room otherwise silent except for the faint hum of machinery.

Most students had already turned in for the night, but Kyle couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to his fight with Jared.

That was the first time it happened.

The moment Jared pushed him to the brink, something inside him stirred. His mana had surged in a way that didn't feel normal. The air had grown cold, and for a brief second, it felt like something else—something deeper—had taken over.

Kyle clenched his fists. He needed answers.

Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the reinforced training dummy in the center of the room. If his body and mana were changing, he had to push himself until he understood how.

Rolling his shoulders, he dropped into a stance. Then, he moved.

His punches struck hard and fast, his body flowing through a series of attacks. Each impact sent a dull thud through the air, his movements precise. He focused on speed, endurance, power—everything he'd need for tomorrow's combat classes.

But it wasn't enough.

Gritting his teeth, he stepped back and let his mana flow.

Instantly, he felt it.

The shift was subtle at first—an unnatural chill running through his veins. The air around him grew heavier. His mana surged, but it wasn't like before. It came too quickly, too easily, as if something was waiting for him to call upon it.

Dark wisps flickered around his arms, curling like smoke. The shadows stretched unnaturally, twisting toward him, drawn by his presence.

Kyle's pulse quickened. This was exactly what had happened during his fight with Jared.

He gritted his teeth and forced his mana outward.

The shadows moved.

CRACK!

A tendril of dark energy lashed out, striking the dummy with enough force to send it skidding backward. Kyle staggered, his breath sharp as the energy recoiled, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

Silence.

His hands trembled slightly. That wasn't normal mana. That wasn't something he had ever trained for.

For a moment, he thought he heard something in the back of his mind—a low chuckle, distant but familiar.

> "You are learning."

His breath hitched. The voice was gone before he could place it.

Kyle clenched his fists, pushing down the unease crawling up his spine. He couldn't afford to let this shake him. Whatever was happening, whatever his connection to Boneclaw was doing to him—he had to figure it out.

Alone.

Straightening up, he grabbed his bag and left the training hall without a word.

Tomorrow, he'd be training with everyone else.

And no one could know what was really happening to him.

The academy's training hall was supposed to be empty this late at night.

Vivian Marchand had only been passing by when she noticed someone inside. Normally, she wouldn't have cared—students sneaking in extra training wasn't unusual. But when she saw Kyle Corvayn, she paused.

Kyle wasn't the type to stand out. He kept to himself, didn't talk much, and rarely reacted to anything. Even after his match with Jared, where he had fought well but not exceptionally, he hadn't drawn much attention.

But what she had just witnessed?

That was not normal.

Vivian remained hidden in the shadows of the upper observation deck, her Silverwing Moth resting lightly on her shoulder. The faint glow of its wings gave her just enough light to see, but not enough to reveal her presence.

She watched as Kyle stood in the center of the training hall, his breathing steady but tense. He had been going through a normal combat routine at first—strikes, dodges, endurance drills. She had almost left, thinking it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Then his mana changed.

It wasn't gradual. It wasn't even controlled.

One second, he was normal. The next, something dark coiled around him like a living thing. The air had dropped in temperature, and the shadows in the room had stretched unnaturally toward him.

Vivian had instinctively tensed, her body preparing for something dangerous.

Then it happened.

A single strike—no, not even a physical hit. A tendril of energy lashed out from Kyle's mana, striking the training dummy with enough force to send it skidding backward.

She had almost gasped. Almost.

Because that wasn't a normal mana burst. It wasn't just a surge of power. It was something else entirely.

Kyle had immediately withdrawn after that, his expression unreadable, his body stiff. He wiped the sweat from his brow, grabbed his bag, and walked out as if nothing had happened.

Vivian remained motionless, staring at the empty space he left behind.

Her mind was racing.

"Why didn't he use that during his test?"

Kyle had fought Jared earlier that day. The match had been real combat, an actual challenge. He should have used everything at his disposal to win.

But he hadn't.

Instead, he had held back.

The realization sent a shiver down her spine. People held back for different reasons. Some didn't want to reveal their full strength too soon. Some were hiding weaknesses. And some…

Some were afraid of what they could do.

Vivian exhaled slowly, her silver eyes narrowing.

"Kyle Corvayn… just what are you?"

Her familiar fluttered its wings in response to her unease, but she ignored it.

One thing was certain—tomorrow, during combat training, she'd be watching him very carefully.

And if he tried to hide again?

She'd make sure to find out why