Unlike the other times, Soren did not leave the training area.

Even after Goldsworth came to tease him, and then their bet. (Again)

He remained there. Waiting.

From time to time, he would review his plans and sort out strengths that he had, as well as weaknesses.

Then he would sort out ways he could overcome them in the upcoming battle.

Then he jotted down the previous battle as well as information about the enemy he had come to figure out.

After which he would consider the known strengths of his friends and how they could participate in the toughest battle in their lives yet.

By the time he was done, it was already time.

He looked at his watch and then outside the square-shaped window.

Commander Jared and Boyed, leading the Soulbound knights.

Still, he did not act.

Soren had let an understanding sink into his mind.

He was not the target. At least not until he interfered.

For this reason, he would not interfere. This did not mean that he was not willing to save his friends.

But this time around, he had to do it.

He had to grow.

After a while, he left the room; checking his environment carefully, he made his way to the cafeteria.

Even before he arrived, the stench of blood reached him.

But he did not mind. It was evidence that things had gone according to plan.

The automatic doors attempted opening, but the weight resting on them from the inside made it difficult.

Soren forced it open, pushing them apart.

Thud.

A ripped torso fell at his feet. He did not care. His eyes darted around the room, searching for it.

Searching for the Eldritch.

And then he heard a whimper at the corner.

He turned. There. To his surprise, a person was still alive.

Well, she was missing one arm that looked like it was messily ripped out—still spitting jets of blood.

"Bloodshine?"

Soren stared, baffled. Even if anyone had survived, he was not expecting it to be the person with the most acclaimed weakest combat ability.

In fact, her ability could not even hurt a fly; calling it the weakest was a stretch.

And yet, there she was. But she was not alone.

Before her, the Eldritch slithered forward, heading for her.

She whimpered, breathing hard, teeth clashing against each other loudly.

Just as Soren saw her, she saw him, her eyes pleading for salvation.

However, just as the abomination launched at her.

~Slash.

Soren's Soul-steel dagger moved, dissecting it midair.

It fell on the ground, each cut part wiggling. screeching in its obvious pain.

Soren hurried to her, embracing her. "It's okay... it's okay."

Bloodshine's breath slowly calmed as her head sank into his chest.

Hot tears poured from her yellow eyes. However, it was only after hugging her did Soren realize how terrible her wounds were.

Right now, her back was practically nonexistent—like she had barely dodged a blade that should have split her vertically.

Yes, from the back of her head to her lower region was gone.

Such a wound should have killed a person instantly, but she had survived.

Clearly, she was very tenacious.

"Tha...thank...you." She barely muttered, her body spasming one more time before she moved no more.

Soren sighed. He looked below. Her eyes remained open, but there was no life in them.

"Once we settle this, I'll try to not run and be your friend." He closed her eyelids.

After which he stood up, looking around the cafeteria.

And then he took a deep breath.

Throughout the loops, Soren had learned a lot of things. But, ironically, it was Ivory's story that made him truly understand.

Ivory had said that to get her first form, she had concentrated on the emotion she felt during her bonding.

That made Soren reason something. Maybe, just maybe, all this time, he had be trying to get the first form using the wrong methods.

When Ivory taught the cadets and made them exchange Glasshearts, she had excited just the right emotion a lot of people felt during their bounding without them even realizing it.

It was Loss.

If the emotion during bounding was the catalyst to get the first form, what was the emotion he had during the Touching Glass Ceremony?

It had practically been years for Soren, but like a lot of things that have happened, he remembered it like yesterday.

Because he had not stepped towards that glass with 'loss' in mind and heart.

No. Not him.

He had stepped towards the Glass with a dream.

Ambition.

And was ambition not a kind of hunger?

For the first time in a long time since he got his Shade, Soren let that hunger loose.

From his side, his Glassheart opened. That overwhelming hunger flooded his senses.

It was so much that green veins around his neck and forehead became visible.

No doubt, he was holding back the weight of starvation.

Yet, he focused it all on his dream, his ambition.

"Chronovore... Devour."

The train literally shook to Chronovore's presence, a strike of grey light that navigated the room with incredible speed.

As it did, for the first time since he accepted Chronovore's hunger, Soren felt temporary... relief.

It was so deep, so profound, that he fell on his knees in the puddle of blood and body parts, tears rolling down his cheeks.

After all, Chronovore was feeding.

These cadets had all died very terrible deaths. It was well known that a shade and their warrior shared a bond.

While certain injuries to the warrior would not after the Shade, Death was a big blow to the Shade.

It only meant one thing: right now, Chronovore was having a buffet.

When it was done, it flew back into Soren's Glassheart.

And then, for the first time since he bonded with Chronovore, Soren willed in his mind.

A cool, nearly refreshing feeling rushed all over his body.

It was gray, and it leaked from his body like water vapor from boiling water.

This was it. Soren could not hold it back. He cracked a smile that led to a full chuckle.

This was Soul energy.

But there was more. In the crevice of his mind, he could feel more.

Something was engraved deep in his soul.

Could it be...

"You are not supposed to be here."

A voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

Soren was pulled from the feeling of euphoria.

Standing before him was her.

Ivory

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