Kyon’s First Person Point Of View.
I pace, my feet echoing against the polished floor of the psychic plane. The sound is strangely comforting, grounding me in a world that feels increasingly unreal. Conrad’s voice cuts through the silence again, pulling my focus back to him. He’s patient—far too patient—and I can feel the weight of his question pressing into my chest.
“So, Kyon,” he drawls, his voice oozing with an unsettling calm, “have you made up your mind?”
I frown but don’t answer. I can’t. The words feel too heavy, too final. As if, by saying something, I’ll seal my fate. But what’s worse: speaking or staying silent?
I can feel the pressure building, my mind teetering on the edge. Every word I don’t speak is another weight on my shoulders. I walk to the large glass panes, looking out over the city that feels too distant to matter anymore. The skyscrapers stretch out, a forest of glass and steel, the neon lights flickering in the distance like ghosts. I’ve been here before. Watching the city. Feeling like an outsider in a world that doesn’t care. But now, more than ever, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve overstayed my welcome.
I don’t even realize that I’m sweating, the cold beads clinging to my skin. It’s strange—sweat should be a sign of weakness, but it feels like the only thing keeping me grounded.
Sia’s voice breaks through.
“Hey, Kyon... are you okay?”
She sounds so far away, and it takes me a second to realize that she’s not in the psychic plane with me. She’s in the real world, trying to reach me.
I can’t speak to her here. I can barely even breathe.
It’s like I’m on the verge of collapsing. My body is screaming for rest, but my mind is stuck, trapped in a battle I don’t know how to fight. To maintain this kind of focus, to hold on to a technique so powerful with so little training—it’s draining. Every second feels like an eternity, like the walls of my mind are closing in.
I don’t answer Sia, because I know that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.
My focus is slipping.
And then Elijah’s smile, that damned smile, cuts through the haze. It’s there in the real world, watching me like I’m some kind of experiment. I can feel his presence in the psychic plane, too. He’s watching me, waiting.
But in this world, he doesn’t smile. Not really.
“What will you do now?” Elijah’s voice is calm, almost disinterested, but I can hear the challenge in his tone.
I breathe in sharply, trying to steady myself. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. The mental energy is running out, leaking away like water from a cracked dam. But I can’t show weakness. I can’t let him see how close I am to breaking. I have to keep going.
I force myself to speak, my words coming out shakier than I’d like. “I... I can convince Lawrence.”
I say it like it’s the answer to everything. Like that’s the solution. But even as I say it, a part of me knows how fragile that confidence is.
Lawrence is stubborn. He’s unpredictable. I’ve trained with him. I’ve fought beside him. But that doesn’t mean he’ll back me. He’s as much a part of this as I am, and he’s loyal to Argent Sword. His loyalties could shift. Maybe they already have. But I push that doubt down. If I can just get him on my side, maybe I’ll have a chance.
I swallow, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling up. “And Sia... she’s a skilled Flux user. She might be reckless, but... she’s strong. She’ll fight.”
I believe that. I do. But it doesn’t feel like enough.
“I can convince Kadir, too,” I say, as though it’s a sure thing. But even as the words leave my mouth, a part of me wonders if I’m lying to myself.
Kadir. The enigma. He’s the one who keeps me awake at night, wondering where his true loyalties lie. I don’t know if I can trust him, not completely. He’s a scholar, an old man with more secrets than I can even fathom. But I have to believe that he’ll back me. I have to believe that I’m worth betting on.
Elijah’s voice interrupts, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. “Do you think Kadir would fight for you?”
The question hits me harder than I expected.
Would Kadir fight for me? Or would he watch from the sidelines, observing as if this were some kind of experiment? I can’t afford for him to remain neutral. I can’t afford for him to hold back. He’s too valuable.
I force myself to speak, trying to inject some conviction into my voice. “I can convince him. I know I can.”
But even as I say it, I feel the cracks forming. I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore.
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“Are you sure?” Elijah presses, his voice a quiet challenge.
I grit my teeth. “I have to be.”
Elijah doesn’t respond right away. His silence hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive.
I feel my pulse quicken, my body growing hotter as the tension rises. But I can’t back down. Not now. Not when I’m this close.
“Kadir may be mysterious,” I continue, trying to push past the doubt gnawing at the edges of my mind. “But he’s a scholar. He understands the value of power. Of knowledge. If I show him what I’m capable of—if I show him that I’ve already killed Vincent... I think he’ll back me. He’ll see that I’m not just some kid. That I can lead. That I’m worth following.”
I feel a strange surge of confidence at the words, like I’m convincing myself more than anyone else.
It doesn’t matter that Kadir is an unknown, that he’s a wild card. I have something he’ll value. Something that he’ll respect. He’ll see the potential in me. He’ll see that I’m more than just a boy trying to survive.
I swallow again, pushing aside the fear. I can’t afford to doubt myself.
“I killed Vincent,” I say, the words coming out more firmly this time. “A three-thousand-year-old monster. I did it on my own. With just six months of training.”
I can feel the weight of that truth in my chest. It’s not arrogance. It’s fact. I did it. I took down a being older than anyone in this world—and I survived. That has to mean something.
Elijah doesn’t speak immediately. He doesn’t need to. His silence is just as telling as any words could be. I can feel him watching me, waiting for me to crack.
But I’m still standing.
“I have value,” I mutter under my breath, almost as if convincing myself.
For a moment, it feels like I might break. I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of something—something big, something dangerous.
I know that Elijah sees it. He’s just waiting. Waiting for me to give him a reason to stop.
But I won’t. Not now.
I won’t back down.
I have value.
......
The silence lingers in the air after I speak. My words hang there like a thick fog, and for a brief moment, I almost believe I’ve made my point. But then Elijah’s voice cuts through the quiet, smoother and colder than before, a shadow of a smile pulling at his lips.
“That’s good,” he says, almost approvingly. “You fought alone before, and yes, you defeated Vincent. But like I said before, Vincent and Conrad are on very different levels.”
I feel a flicker of frustration. He always comes back to this. Always pulls me back into doubt when I think I have something solid beneath me.
I take a steadying breath, my mind already racing for a retort. “They’re still vampires.”
Elijah’s silence tells me he’s waiting for more. So I push forward, words flowing with more confidence than I feel. “And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Flux is always effective against vampires—no matter their lineage.”
I expect him to push back, to offer some cryptic response or dismiss my claim. But instead, I see something I didn’t expect: a flicker of genuine, almost impressed recognition.
For a split second, I think I’ve won the conversation.
But then Elijah’s eyes narrow slightly, the smile never leaving his face, and he repeats the same question with chilling calmness. “That may be true. But it doesn’t answer my question.”
He lets the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “Are you willing to sacrifice your soul to take Conrad down?”
My chest tightens at the weight of his words. The thought of what he’s suggesting sends a shiver down my spine, but I refuse to show it. I step forward, trying to steady my breath and find my ground in this psychic battlefield.
I clench my fists, trying to suppress the uneasy feeling swirling in my gut. “Sacrifice my soul?” I repeat, as if the words taste strange on my tongue. “You’re asking me if I’m willing to lose everything just to bring down one monster?”
He nods slowly, almost thoughtfully. “Those who can’t sacrifice their humanity can never achieve anything.”
I feel a coldness settle in my bones at his words. Is that really what it takes? To give up everything that makes me… me? The thought stings, and I feel a tremor ripple through my chest, but I refuse to show it.
“So, you’re saying…” I start, trying to piece the puzzle together in my head. “You’re saying that if I’m not willing to lose myself, I’ll never be able to do what needs to be done?”
Elijah doesn’t answer right away. His eyes stay fixed on me, calculating. Then, after a long pause, he speaks again. “Exactly.”
The word settles in my stomach like a weight.
I shake my head, refusing to accept it. “No. There’s another way. There has to be.”
Elijah’s expression shifts, his smile widening, and it sends a chill through me. “You’re speaking like someone who doesn’t really understand the stakes. Someone who’s never taken risks before.”
His words hit harder than I expect, and for a moment, I feel the sting of his accusation. But I know better than to let it break me. “I’m not reckless,” I snap back, trying to steady my breathing. “I know the risks. I’m not blind to them. But that doesn’t mean I have to sacrifice everything to win.”
He raises an eyebrow, the amusement in his eyes growing more evident. “You think you can win without giving up something? Without truly understanding what’s at stake? Without understanding your own nature?”
I want to argue, to push back against everything he’s suggesting, but his words linger, gnawing at the edges of my mind. He’s right in some ways. I don’t understand what it means to take risks—not in the way he does, anyway. But I’m not going to let him twist that into a weakness.
“I’m not going to let you manipulate me,” I say, my voice sharp with defiance.
Elijah’s eyes flicker, and for a moment, I see something else behind that calculating gaze—a subtle hint of something darker, more dangerous. “Manipulate you?” he says softly, as though amused. “I’m not the one trying to make you do something you don’t want to do. You’re the one who wants to defeat Conrad. And I’m simply offering you a means to do that. If you’re brave enough to take it.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and loaded with implications. I want to push back, to tell him I don’t need his help. But the truth is, I do. If I’m going to defeat Conrad, if I’m going to stand a chance against someone like him… maybe I do need something more.
But what would it cost me?
Elijah watches me closely, reading me like a book. “You don’t have leverage,” he says, his tone softer now, almost pitying. “You’re still trying to play by the rules—still trying to maintain some moral high ground. But if you truly understood what it meant to wield power, you’d stop fighting it. You’d stop pretending that you’re above it.”
I feel my pulse quicken, my anger rising. “I’m not pretending to be above anything!” I snap. “But there’s more to this than just power. You’re asking me to throw away everything just for a shot at victory.”
“You’re wrong,” Elijah replies smoothly. “You’re afraid of it. You’re afraid of your own power. You’ve had the chance to take blood—take what’s rightfully yours. But you haven’t. Why do you think that is?”
I stiffen, caught off guard by his words. The question cuts deeper than I expect.
I know what he’s talking about. The blood. The temptation that’s always been lurking there, just beneath the surface. I’ve thought about it. I’ve felt it call to me. The pull of my darker nature, the power I could gain if I gave in to it.
But I’ve held back. Every time I’ve been faced with it, I’ve resisted. And now, Elijah is pointing it out, exposing me for what I am.
“You hate yourself, don’t you?” he asks, his voice like a whisper in the back of my mind. “Or, rather, you’re afraid of what you could become. That’s why you haven’t taken blood. You’re frightened of what that would mean for you.”
I grit my teeth, trying to hold on to my control. “I’m not frightened. I’m just not going to throw away everything I’ve worked for. Not for power.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” Elijah says, his voice quiet but firm. “You think it’s about power. You think it’s about winning the fight. But it’s about something deeper. Something more real. And you don’t understand it. Not yet.”
I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but the words don’t come. Instead, I feel a strange tension building in my chest. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am afraid of what I could become. Of what I might become if I took that step.
“I’m offering you a way to win, Kyon,” Elijah continues, his voice steady and calm. “All you need to do is step up to Conrad and take a bite.”
I blink, stunned. “What?”
“It’s simple,” Elijah says, his smile returning. “You take his blood. You weaken him. And in doing so, you strengthen yourself. The blood of a PureBlood is exactly what you need to awaken your full potential. To become what you’re meant to be.”
I stare at him, my mind spinning. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I’m not doing that.”
“You can’t hide from yourself forever,” Elijah says, his voice dropping lower, more serious now. “It’s time to make a choice. Time to be decisive. You want to defeat Conrad, don’t you? Then stop holding back. Stop pretending you don’t have the power to do it.”
I look at him, my hands trembling slightly. The thought of taking Conrad’s blood—of giving into that darkness—makes my stomach churn. But I can’t ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe this is what I need. Maybe this is what I’ve been searching for all along.
But is it worth it?
Elijah’s smile widens as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And for a moment, I wonder if I’ve already lost.