Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 858 198.2 - Desire

Chapter 858 198.2 - Desire

"What did you say?"
The crimson bled into her vision, slow at first, then all at once.
Like ink seeping through paper, the colors of the Elemental Chamber dulled, swallowed by an overwhelming shade of red. The pulsing mana that once hummed softly around her now roared like a storm in her ears, thick and suffocating.
Maya staggered.
Her breath hitched, her hands flying to her temples as the air around her turned heavy—dense, oppressive, crushing. Her body knew this feeling. The creeping, smoldering hunger curling at the edges of her mind. The sharp, almost intoxicating pulse that accompanied it.
Her other self was furious.
"You don't understand?" the voice whispered, low and venomous, curling around her like a viper. "You think I don't understand?"
The pressure in her skull spiked. A burning heat coiled in her chest, twisting through her veins, demanding to be felt, demanding to be acknowledged.
Then, laughter—dark and edged with something raw, something dangerous.
"You think this is about caring?" the voice sneered, echoing in the chamber like a chorus of ghosts. "You really are a fool, Maya. Caring? What a pathetic excuse. Do you want to know the truth?"
Maya's breath came in short, shallow gasps. Her vision swam, the red deepening, consuming everything. And beneath it all, something darker, something primal, unfurled its claws.
Hunger.
A terrible, aching thirst.
Her body locked up, heat burning through her limbs, her fingers twitching as if longing to reach for something—someone.
The unbearable pull.
Her lips parted slightly, her tongue dry against the roof of her mouth. The thought slithered through her mind like a whisper of temptation, like a forgotten instinct reawakening from the depths of her soul.
His blood.
Her nails pressed into her palms, hard enough to break skin.
"He was the only one."
The voice came softer this time—no longer mocking, but cold, distant.
"The only one I could feel in that darkness."
Maya's breath hitched as the words slithered through her mind, wrapping around her like chains. The crimson haze pulsed, suffocating in its intensity, and the weight pressing against her chest became unbearable.
Her other self wasn't just angry.
She was grieving.
"When I had nothing, when the world was silent, when even you faded away, he was there."
The voice wavered, but not with hesitation—with conviction.
"You, who have seen the world, who have walked through it, touched it, breathed it—you will never understand that feeling. Nor do you want to."
The words struck like a dagger, raw and dripping with something deeper than rage.
"So don't ever talk about 'caring' as if you've figured me out."
A violent pulse of mana erupted from Maya's core, cracking the air around her. The chamber quaked, its crystalline walls warping, the mana-infused lights above flickering as if suffocating under the weight of her emotions.
But Maya…
Maya held her ground.
She gritted her teeth, the sharp tang of iron in her mouth as she forced herself to breathe—to resist the overwhelming pull.
The room trembled, but she did not.
She would not.
Her eyes, still drowning in crimson, burned with defiance. The hunger clawed at her ribs, her instincts screaming at her to yield, to fall, to give in. But she fought it—fought the weight of her own emotions, fought against the darker self that threatened to consume her.
"You're wrong," Maya murmured, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
A low, bitter chuckle. "Am I?"
Maya exhaled sharply, hands unfurling from their clenched state. She no longer trembled. She no longer recoiled.
"Yeah… that is just unhealthy."
Maya's voice cut through the storm of her mind, cold and certain.
Her other self hissed. "Unhealthy… coming from someone like you?"
Maya didn't flinch. Didn't engage.
Because this was pointless.
This argument, this cycle—it never ended. Her other self would always push, always claw, always try to pull her into that dark, suffocating abyss. And if she kept letting it consume her thoughts, she would never break free.
She exhaled, long and slow, and released the tension coiling in her shoulders.
Enough.
Without another word, she turned away, letting the lingering echoes of her other self's anger fizzle into the background. She ignored the way the crimson still pulsed faintly at the edges of her vision, ignored the phantom hunger that gnawed at the back of her mind.
She needed to focus.
Lowering herself onto the smooth floor of the Elemental Chamber, she crossed her legs into a lotus position, placing her hands lightly on her knees. The mana in the room still thrummed with unease, reacting to the storm she had just barely contained. But she had no intention of letting it linger.
Her breathing slowed.
Her pulse steadied.
Her thoughts narrowed into one purpose—control.
She let her mana flow, not forcefully, not recklessly, but with precision. The ambient energy around her bent to her will, forming into the familiar, delicate patterns she had practiced a thousand times before.
Slow. Measured. Exact.
She had done this countless times—calming her mind, pushing out distractions, sharpening herself into a perfect edge. It was methodical, something she could hold onto when everything else threatened to spiral out of control.
And yet—
Something shifted.
A flicker at the edge of her awareness.
A presence.
Not unfamiliar… but not entirely familiar either.
Her eyes snapped open.
"Hmm?"
She turned her head slightly, sensing the weight of a gaze lingering on her from the entrance of the chamber.
"Hello."
A voice. Low, even, and carefully controlled.
A young man stepped into the dim glow of the chamber's mana-infused light, his sharp blue eyes studying her with an expression that sent a faint ripple of irritation down her spine.
Trevor Philips.
Maya's expression remained unreadable as she regarded her classmate.
"Trevor."
She greeted him with a simple nod, keeping her voice neutral.
"What brings you here?"
Trevor didn't answer immediately. Instead, he just… looked at her.
That same look.
Maya's fingers twitched against her knee before she forced them to still.
She didn't like his gaze.
She hadn't liked it for a long time.
Even her other self, usually so consumed with its own obsessions, stirred in displeasure.
"Tch."
A faint noise echoed in her mind, a rare moment of agreement between them.
Trevor's eyes, sharp and unreadable, lingered on her for just a second too long.
Maya's jaw tensed.
She really disliked this gaze.
"Trevor?"
Her voice was sharper this time, cutting through the thick silence that had settled between them.
Trevor blinked, as if surfacing from deep thought. Then, almost too casually, he let out a short chuckle.
"Ahaha… sorry. I just spaced out."
Maya's lips pressed into a thin line.
He didn't look like someone who had just 'spaced out.'
His gaze lingered again—just a second longer than necessary. Not with open hostility, nor admiration, nor anything easily decipherable. Just that same unreadable, unwavering stare.
Maya's patience thinned.
Without a word, she shifted slightly, tilting her chin up just enough to signal the silent question hanging in the air.
Why are you here?
Her piercing blue eyes carried the same question as her voice when she finally spoke.
"Then? What brings you here?"
Trevor exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, as if realizing that ignoring the question wasn't an option.
But he didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he just watched her again, his expression unreadable.
Maya's fingers twitched against her knee.
She had never liked this feeling—the way he looked at her, the way his presence always carried a weight she couldn't quite place.
And neither did her other self.
"This guy."
A muttered thought, low and sharp, curled in the back of her mind.
Maya ignored it, but her body remained still, waiting.
Trevor finally shifted his weight slightly, his posture loose but deliberate.
"Can we have a talk?"