The fourth morning of training started the same way as the others.
Marcus arrived before dawn. Adrian followed him through the dark passages to the training room. They began with defensive drills, Marcus attacking while Adrian learned to read and respond.
But today was different.
Adrian was better. Noticeably better. His blocks were cleaner. His footwork more stable. He anticipated combinations before they fully developed.
After twenty minutes, he blocked an entire five-strike sequence without taking a single hit.
Marcus stopped mid-motion, fist frozen in the air.
"That shouldn't be possible."
Adrian lowered his guard, breathing hard. "You're a good teacher."
"Stop saying that." Marcus stepped back. "Teaching accelerates learning. It doesn't rewrite the fundamentals of how the human brain processes combat. You're adapting at a cellular level."
He's not suspicious anymore. He's certain.
Adrian said nothing. His muscles burned despite the rapid recovery. Something else was happening beneath the surface. A strain that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion.
My body is changing faster than it should. But there's a price. I can feel it. A pressure building behind my eyes. In my bones. Like something is being consumed to fuel the adaptation.
Marcus circled him slowly. "Tell me about the explosion. In detail."
The question came from nowhere. Adrian's guard went up instinctively, though not the physical kind.
"I already told Warden Vale and the other wardens everything."
"Tell me."
Adrian kept his expression neutral. "I found the hidden room. Started reading the books. Got a paper cut. Blood fell on the symbols. Everything went white."
"What were you reading?"
"I don't remember the specifics. It was all in languages I couldn't fully understand."
"But you understood enough to complete a binding ritual." Marcus stopped circling. "Bindings don't happen by accident. They require intent. Knowledge. Precision."
"I got lucky."
"There's that word again. Lucky." Marcus's eyes narrowed. "You survived an explosion that destroyed an entire house. You emerged with minor injuries that healed within hours. You adapted to a binding that should have killed you. That's not luck. That's impossible."
He's not interrogating. He's testing. Seeing if I'll crack under pressure.
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth."
"I've told you the truth. I don't know what happened. I don't know what I am. If I did, don't you think I'd be using it?" Adrian let frustration bleed into his voice. "You think I'm hiding some secret power? I can barely defend myself against you."
Marcus studied him for a long moment. "You're lying. Not about what happened, but about how much you remember."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Are you training me or interrogating me?"
"Both. That's how this works." Marcus picked up two practice staffs from the wall rack. He tossed one to Adrian. "The Vigil doesn't waste resources on potential threats. I'm documenting your progress to determine if you're worth the investment or if you're a danger that needs eliminating."
At least he's honest about it.
Adrian caught the staff. The wood was smooth and surprisingly heavy. "And what have you decided?"
"I haven't. That's why we're still training." Marcus settled into a ready stance. "Defend yourself."
He attacked.
The staff came at Adrian's head in a wide arc. Adrian raised his own staff to block. The impact jarred his arms.
Weapons are different. Heavier. Longer reach. The patterns aren't the same.
Marcus spun the staff and struck low. Adrian barely jumped back in time.
"You're thinking too much," Marcus said, pressing forward. "Your body knows what to do. Trust it."
Another strike. Adrian blocked but the force pushed him back.
Trust it. My body has been adapting. Learning. Maybe it can learn this too.
He stopped thinking about the staff as an object and started feeling its weight. Its balance. The way it moved through the air.
Marcus attacked again. This time, Adrian's block was smoother. He redirected the force instead of absorbing it.
"Better."
They continued. Strike after strike. Adrian's movements became more fluid. Less conscious thought. More instinct.
But something was wrong.
That pressure behind his eyes was growing. His vision blurred at the edges, not from exhaustion but from something deeper. Something burning.
Whatever is fueling this adaptation, it's running out.
Adrian's block came too slow. Marcus's staff cracked against his ribs.
He dropped to one knee, gasping.
"Enough." Marcus lowered his staff. "You're done for today."
"I can keep going."
"No. You can't." Marcus walked to the water skin. "You're pushing past exhaustion into something worse. I've seen practitioners burn themselves out trying to advance too quickly. It doesn't end well."
He brought the water over. Adrian drank, his hands shaking slightly.
"What happens when they burn out?"
"Best case? Their binding destabilises and they lose their abilities. Worst case?" Marcus's expression was grim. "They die. Slowly. Painfully. The Dao consumes them from the inside out."
Consumption. The word from Mother's journal. 'Power that feeds on darkness itself.' Is that what I'm bound to? Something that consumes?
Adrian handed back the water skin. "How do I avoid that?"
"Rest. Proper nutrition. Don't overtrain." Marcus hung the staff back on the wall. "And don't lie to your instructor about your limitations."
"I didn't lie."
"You pushed through warning signs I could see from across the room. That's lying by omission." Marcus grabbed his coat. "Come. I'll walk you back a different way."
Different way? Why?
Adrian followed him out of the training room but instead of heading toward the cell block, Marcus turned down an unfamiliar corridor.
This passage was wider. Better lit. Doors lined both sides, most with plaques indicating their purpose.
"Archives," Marcus said, gesturing to one door. "Every supernatural event recorded by the Vigil for two hundred years. Every creature catalogued. Every rogue practitioner documented."
They passed another door. Through the narrow window, Adrian glimpsed rows of weapons. Swords. Spears. Things he couldn't identify.
"Armoury. Once you're cleared for field work, you'll choose a weapon. Something that matches your abilities and fighting style."
He's showing me things. Deliberately. Why?
They climbed stairs to the ground floor. The building felt different in daylight. Less oppressive. Practitioners moved through hallways with purpose. Some wore the black coats of Hunters. Others dressed in regular clothing.
"Library," Marcus said, nodding toward a large doorway. Inside, Adrian saw towering shelves packed with books. Several people sat reading at long tables. "Open to all Vigil members. Even Initiates, once they're trusted."
"Am I trusted?"
"No. But you might be eventually." Marcus led him down another corridor. "The Vigil isn't your enemy, Adrian. We hunt monsters. Protect people who can't protect themselves. Keep the supernatural world hidden so society doesn't collapse into chaos."
He believes it.
"That's the official purpose. What's the real one?"
Marcus glanced at him. "The real purpose is survival. The world has things in it that would devour humanity given half a chance. Demons. Corrupted practitioners. Creatures from places that shouldn't exist. The Vigil stands between them and everyone else."
They reached a courtyard Adrian hadn't seen before. Larger than the training yard. Several Hunters were drilling with weapons, their movements precise and lethal.
"Most Hunters are good people," Marcus said, watching them. "They chose this life because they wanted to protect others. Some are here for power or glory, but most genuinely care."
Adrian watched the Hunters move. Their coordination. Their skill. "Which are you?"
"Both, probably. I wanted to matter. Make a difference. The Vigil gave me that chance." Marcus turned away from the courtyard. "But I also enjoy the hunt. The challenge. That probably makes me a worse person than the idealists."
He really is honest.
They walked in silence for a moment. Adrian's body ached, but the strange pressure behind his eyes had faded. Rest was helping.
"What if I'm the monster?" The question came out before Adrian could stop it.
Marcus stopped walking. "What?"
"You said the Vigil hunts monsters. Corrupted practitioners. Things that shouldn't exist." Adrian faced him. "What if that's what I am? What if this binding is to a dao that I shouldn't be?"
Marcus studied him for a long moment. His expression was unreadable.
"Then I'll know before you do," he said finally. "Corruption shows signs. Behaviour changes. Physical alterations. Loss of empathy. I'm watching for all of it."
"And when you see those signs?"
"Then I do my job." Marcus's voice was flat. "But right now, you're just a scared kid who got lucky and unlucky in equal measure. That's not corruption. That's trauma."
He sees more than I thought.
They continued walking. The route Marcus took wound through more passages, past more rooms. Adrian tried to memorise the layout but there was too much.
Eventually, they reached the stairs leading down to the cell block.
"Tomorrow we start weapons training properly," Marcus said. "Staff work. Basic sword forms. You'll be terrible at first."
"Like I was at hand-to-hand?"
"Exactly like that. Which means in three days you'll probably be adequate." He paused. "Get rest. Actual rest. Don't train yourself in the cell. Don't push through exhaustion. Your body needs time to adapt safely."
It was the first time Marcus had shown any concern for Adrian's wellbeing beyond keeping him functional for training.
"Why do you care?"
"I don't. But burning out a potentially useful practitioner because he's too stubborn to rest would be wasteful." Marcus started back up the stairs, then stopped. "And I don't like waste."
He disappeared into the corridor above.
Adrian stood alone at the bottom of the stairs. The cell block stretched out behind him. Silent. Cold.
But something had shifted.
He's not just suspicious anymore. He's invested. Watching to see if I succeed or fail. Maybe even hoping I succeed.
But he'll kill me if I become dangerous. No hesitation. No mercy.
I need to be careful. Need to manage the adaptation. Can't let it consume me.
Adrian walked to his cell. The door was already unlocked. Inside, breakfast sat waiting on the small table. Porridge. Bread. Water.
He sat and ate slowly, feeling the food settle in his empty stomach.
His hands were steadier than they'd been an hour ago. The pressure behind his eyes was gone. His body was already healing from the morning's training.
Too fast. Still too fast.
But maybe Marcus is right. Maybe if I rest properly, manage the strain, I can control this. Learn to use it without letting it burn me out.
Adrian finished eating and lay down on the narrow bed.
Tomorrow would bring weapons. New challenges. New patterns to learn.
But today, he would rest.
His eyes closed. Exhaustion pulled him down into dreamless sleep.
And in the quiet darkness of the cell, his body continued its impossible work.
Healing. Adapting. Changing.
The shadows in the corners seemed to pulse in rhythm with his breathing.
But Adrian didn't notice.
He was already asleep.