Velastra's back training field was nearly empty after hours.
Which was perfect.
Noctix didn't want an audience. Not for this.
---
He stood in the middle of the dirt circle, shoes off, hoodie tied around his waist, sleeves rolled up.
The warped violet mark on his arm glowed faintly under the moonlight—no longer hiding itself.
It pulsed.
Like a heartbeat.
---
He took a deep breath.
Focus. Move. React.
---
With a sudden dash forward, he struck out with his right fist.
Nothing special.
Until he moved again.
---
This time, mid-swing, the mark flared.
Just for a split second.
His body moved sharper—faster, like it had shaved off hesitation. His balance felt smoother. His step? Cleaner.
It wasn't a full transformation.
But it was real.
---
"Alright..." Noctix whispered. "Let's push it."
He ran another round.
Punch. Dash. Slide.
Mark flashes.
With each movement, the lines along his fingers shimmered brighter. Every time he trusted his instinct, it responded.
He tried a spin-kick.
The wind cracked.
He didn't just move faster—he felt lighter. Like gravity tugged on him just a little less when the mark was active.
---
Then came the weird part.
He stood still.
The mark began to shrink in, dimming… until it returned to a faint glow.
It only activates when I push myself?
---
Noctix sat in the grass, breath steady, mind racing.
This wasn't just a power.
It was a system. A living skill tree that only answered when challenged.
---
He smiled to himself.
"I'm not broken."
He looked up at the stars.
"I'm just... built different."
---
From the trees behind the field, a quiet pair of eyes watched him.
They didn't move.
Didn't speak.
But they had seen everything.
---
End of Chapter Six.
Next: "Transfer Student"