Chapter 12- Silver Pulse State
FACTION TRIAL- THE COLISEUM OF VELRENMAR
Away from the noise of the arena, Milo and Lio found a quiet corner behind the stands.
Lio rubbed his forehead, still thinking about Seren's fight.
"He's good," Lio said finally. "But... he doesn't seem like the strong one out there."
Milo laughed, shaking his head.
"Strong? Nah, not really. And talent? Eh, he's got some, but nothing flashy."
He glanced sideways, a grin tugging at his lips.
"But there's something about him. When the fight starts going south... that's when he gets weird."
Lio raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Weird how? Like losing control?"
Milo shrugged, eyes narrowing.
"Not losing control. More like... losing everything else except the fight. He gets unpredictable—like he's stepping outside the normal rules."
He leaned closer, voice dropping.
"Moves you can't read because even he might not know what he's doing next. It's not talent or strength—it's chaos that works."
Milo's voice dropped to a murmur.
"You'll know it when you see it."
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Moonfen Reach – Subterranean Basin Ruins
Seren moved first.
No words. No warning.
Just motion.
His palm slashed through the air — a razor whip of redirected force slamming toward Rhael's side with brutal efficiency. It hit.
No — it connected.
But Rhael didn't fall.
He staggered, boots scraping moss, coat flaring with the blast... then straightened with a soft laugh.
Like it tickled.
"Ohh, you're good," Rhael said, eyes lighting up. "That was cute. Really. A nice little tap."
Seren didn't answer. His stance tightened. His breath stayed even.
Rhael grinned.
"Did you know…" he said, walking sideways across the damp stone, blade twirling lazily between two fingers, "...it takes exactly seven seconds for a body to stop twitching after the spine is removed?"
He leaned back — narrowly dodging another shockburst from Seren — and kept speaking like they were sharing tea.
"I counted. Just to be sure."
Seren's jaw clenched. "You're sick."
"Oh," Rhael chuckled, "You have no idea."
Then he moved — fast, cruel, without rhythm — and backhanded Seren across the face with a resonant surge that cracked the air.
Crack!
Seren's body slammed into a stone slab.
"Aughh—!"
He gasped as pain flared through his arm.
He slid down the pillar, breath shaking.
"Guess I won't be watching the first trial today…" he muttered, coughing blood.
He crouched in front of Seren, grinning.
"Oh, you're still conscious. I'm flattered."
Seren pushed up from the cracked stone, one arm limp at his side, breath coming in ragged pulls.
Rhael crouched nearby, tilting his head with amusement.
"You know," he said, licking a small cut on his lip, "I was told your resonance affinity was flame-based."
His smile widened. "Yet here you are — tossing around invisible lashes of force like some overclocked physics lesson."
Seren didn't answer. His jaw was clenched too tightly to speak.
"Oh, don't be shy," Rhael went on. "Your Academy profile was very clear: 'Basic elemental resonance — flame alignment, moderate control. Functional, not combat-tier.'" He made a little box with his fingers and mimicked scanning a form. "'Unremarkable tactical threat. Low interaction risk.'"
He gave a delighted giggle.
"Lies, lies, lies!"
Rhael danced back as Seren hurled another burst of redirected momentum. He sidestepped it with a hop.
"You're not fire," Rhael said softly. "You're… something else."
His eyes sparkled. "Something wrong."
Seren braced himself against the wall, teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
Rhael stalked toward him.
"You really don't match your file," he purred. "Either someone covered for you… or something broke loose inside you."
"The first time I dissected someone still alive," he said conversationally, "they begged me to stop halfway through."
He paused, then grinned wider.
"So I stopped."
Seren launched a redirected blast at full force — it slammed into the basin wall as Rhael ducked low.
"Then I started again from the top."
"Aughh—!" Seren's arm spasmed as a delayed echo of one of Rhael's earlier attacks surged back into his ribs. He staggered, breath knocked out of him again.
His thoughts were a blur.
Come on… focus... focus—
Rhael raised a hand and flicked his fingers toward the ground.
"You know what makes a hit funnier the second time?" he said with a grin. "When you don't see it coming."
He pointed to the stone beside Seren.
"I don't just strike once. I leave pieces of the force behind. In the air. On the ground. Sometimes even inside you."
He snapped his fingers. A small burst of pressure flared near Seren's foot — harmless, but sharp enough to make him flinch.
"They come back. Seconds later. Minutes, even. When you step in the wrong spot… when your heart skips… when you think you're safe."
Seren's grip tightened despite the trembling in his fingers.
"What kind of ability is that…?"
Rhael just smiled, taking a half-step back.
"It's called Reverberant Malice. And if you're lucky… you'll only feel it once."
He giggled.
"But you're not lucky, are you?"
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[ ∎ ACCESSING SYSTEM INTERFACE ∎ ]
Rhael Moren – Combat Status Preview (Tier Analysis)
(Note: This data is unknown to any character. For reader insight only.)
AFFILIATION: Northcrest Faction
POSITION: Special Operative
RANK: Yellow-Grade Enforcer
Attribute Ratings
Strength: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 6)
Speed: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 5)
Reflex: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 5)
Endurance: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 6)
Control: ⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 4)
Resonance Depth: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 7)
Affinity: Reverberant Malice — (Type: Spatial Displacement & Harmonic Rupture)Potential Rating: ★★★★★✦☆☆ (5.9 / 7)⟁
Ability: Reverberant Malice
A malicious resonance trait that causes every strike or trauma inflicted by the user to leave behind a delayed echo — a phantom aftershock that can trigger moments or minutes later. These echoes grow stronger and less predictable when the target is afraid or emotionally unstable.
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The tunnel trembled with silence. Not from the quake — but from the weight of what had just shifted.
Rhael's laughter had faded.
But not because he was finished.
No — it was because he noticed.
Seren staggered slightly, dragging one foot back, his breath shallow. Blood dripped steadily from his shoulder where the last echo had torn through — right after he'd tried to dodge, only for the force to explode behind him a heartbeat later.
His scarf was gone. So was most of his coat. One sleeve had been shredded at the seam, exposing the torn flesh underneath. A long gash ran down his ribs, still wet with blood, his breathing ragged and unsteady.
His eyewear — slim, custom-fit lenses anchored by a thin metallic arc — had already been cracked on one side. But now, the second lens split down the center with a quiet—
Tikk.
The broken shard slid off, striking the stone with a whisper of glass.
And behind it—
Rhael blinked once.
His lips parted — but the smile didn't return.
Seren's eyes, now fully visible, glowed.
A pale, unnerving silver. Not radiant like moonlight. No — like something beneath moonlight.
Each iris shimmered faintly, like cracked still water over something vast beneath.
Rhael tilted his head, his grin returning — slow and crooked, like a hinge on a broken door.
"Oh, now this…"
He stepped lightly over a trail of cracked stone, eyes fixed on Seren like a child discovering a rare insect.
"This is getting fun."
His voice dropped into a low murmur, meant only for the two of them.
"You've got something, don't you? Something stitched deep under that spine of yours."
He chuckled — softly, sincerely.
He licked a speck of blood off his glove like a chef testing his dish.
"I've dissected silence, guilt, pride… but whatever's inside you?" His pupils dilated. "That will be a joy to peel apart."
══════════════════════
Velrenmar Academy, Headmaster Office (Months Ago)
A late rain had begun to fall, soft and patient — like it had been waiting for someone to remember it.
Inside the old archives, the candles flickered low. Headmaster Verrian leaned over a collection of sealed resonance logs, fingers brushing dust from the faded cover.
Across from him, Asteran Vaile poured a second cup of strong black tea, steam curling between the two men like breath in a cold room.
They were both quiet.
Then Verrian spoke — not with urgency, but the weight of someone speaking an old truth aloud.
"You still remember those cases, don't you?" he asked softly.
Asteran didn't need clarification. He gave a faint hum of agreement.
"Silver-veined pulses," he said, voice almost reverent. "Resonant irregularities. Burnout states. The scribes gave them a dozen names. But they all meant the same thing."
Verrian nodded.
"Not ascension. Not evolution. Just... something raw. A surge that shouldn't exist in anyone who hasn't been refined."
"Instinct overriding structure," Asteran murmured. "It's not taught. It's not safe."
"I've only seen three in my time. Maybe four. One was a miner's son who'd never touched a blade. The other was a girl from Virelle who broke a war priest's ribs with her bare hands."
"They didn't know what it was," Verrian said quietly. "They thought they'd broken something inside themselves."
Asteran leaned back.
"The records say less than one percent are even capable of waking that state. And that's only among those who get the chance. Half of them are out farming wastelands or hauling stone for cities that don't know their names."
He looked toward the far window, rain trailing slowly down the glass.
"And even fewer ever find themselves in a place where the right push, the right pressure, brings it out."
His gaze lingered on the window — on the slanted rain and the faint glow of moonlight above the archive towers.
Then, softly:
"Sometimes I wonder…"
A pause. The candle beside him flickered once, then stilled.
"…if I'll ever see it again."
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A long gash ran down his ribs, glistening wet, each breath drawing a sharp tremor through his body.
Tikk.
The broken shard slid off, striking the stone with a whisper of glass.
And behind it—
Rhael blinked once.
His lips parted — but the smile didn't return.
Seren's eyes, now fully visible, glowed.
Each iris shimmered faintly, like cracked still water over something vast beneath.
Rhael blinked.
His grin didn't fade immediately, but something in his posture shifted — slight, instinctive.
Rhael didn't step back — but something in his posture shifted. His fingers twitched. His head tilted slightly… as if seeing Seren for the first time.
Then Rhael stopped smiling.
Seren took a step forward, slow, deliberate — the mist curling back from his presence.
His voice was quiet.
But it struck like a blade.
"You want to study me?"
"Then you crawl to your grave knowing this—"
"I'm not something you should have studied. I'm the last thing you will see."
Rhael blinked once.
Then slowly, he smiled — a gleam of delight curling through his expression like smoke.
"Oh… now that's the tone I was waiting for."
His moonlit eye, now exposed narrowed.
"I'm going to kill you."
"You twisted fucking bastard."
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[ ∎ SYSTEM ACCESS GRANTED ∎ ]
❖ STATUS WINDOW — SUBJECT: Seren Vael (Silver Pulse State) ❖
• Strength: ⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 4)
• Speed: ⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 4) ⟶ ⟶
• Reflex: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 5)
• Endurance: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 6) ↑
• Control: ⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 6)
• Resonance Depth: ⟁⟁⟁⟁ (Tier 4) ↑
• Affinity: [Kinetic Redirection]— Converts, redirects, and repurposes external force. Trajectory-based manipulation enhanced by line-of-sight and limb-driven contact.
• Potential Rating: ★★★★✦☆☆ (4.4 / 7)↑
⊳ STATUS ANOMALY DETECTED
⊳ Vital instability recorded
⊳ Threat potential escalated
═════『✦』═════
╔═「SILVER PULSE STATE — ACTIVATED」═╗
✦ User: Seren Vael
✦ Affinity: Kinetic Redirection
The Silver Pulse isn't a technique. It's a fracture — a moment where instinct overrides thought, where fear burns into violence, and something buried deep snaps loose. Reflexes sharpen. Movement turns brutal, efficient, alive. It's not control — it's clarity born from chaos. No hesitation. No restraint.
when the body breaks past its limits — when fear, pain, and rage mix together until something changes.
The Silver Pulse is like flipping a switch you didn't know existed.
There's no more hesitation with only one thing left — instinct.