Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Astron nodded, the motion slow, deliberate. His hand remained steady against her back, his presence grounding, unwavering.

"When I saved Maya that time," he said, his voice even, calm, as though he had long understood the truth before anyone else had, "she was in the process of transforming into a vampire."

Her breath stilled.

His voice, steady and measured, settled into the space between them, pulling at something deep inside her.

"And since the transformation was interrupted halfway," he continued, "I had always assumed that her body changed. That she became a vampire, but incomplete."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"That was my initial assumption."

She listened.

Every word, every syllable, felt as if it carried something important.

Something that she had long wondered.

Astron's gaze remained steady, his voice calm, as if he had already turned this over in his mind countless times.

"Since her body changed, she naturally became a vampire, and her instincts began taking over from time to time," he said. "At first, I didn't think much of it. It seemed… normal."

Her breath slowed as she listened, her body still pressed against him, absorbing his words, his warmth.

"I assumed that was simply part of the transformation process," he continued, his tone quiet, measured. "That it was just a matter of time before she fully adapted."

A pause.

"But the more I researched, the more I started to suspect something wasn't right."

His hand, still resting lightly against her back, shifted slightly. Not in hesitation—Astron never hesitated—but in careful emphasis, as if guiding her through the truth he had already reached.

"The concept of drinking blood until near-madness," he said, his voice dipping lower, "isn't a normal vampire trait. Especially not for a Duke-class vampire."

Her body tensed at that.

Because she knew.

She had always known.

The hunger that clawed at her wasn't simply a thirst—it was a void.

A desperate, all-consuming obsession.

Duke-class vampires were powerful, disciplined, capable of controlling their cravings. Maya's body should have adjusted. Her instincts should have been manageable.

But they weren't.

That unbearable ache, that maddening fixation—it wasn't natural.

And he had seen it.

Astron continued, his voice calm but laced with quiet certainty.

"That's when I understood—there was a problem."

A slow breath left her lips, something heavy curling inside her.

"I thought Maya was in that state because of an incomplete transformation," he admitted. "That she simply hadn't fully become what she was meant to be."

Her grip against his uniform twitched, tightening.

"But what if…"

His next words hung in the air, sinking into the very core of her being.

"What if her transformation didn't just affect her body?"

Her fingers clenched.

"What if it also formed in her consciousness?"

The room felt too quiet.

Too still.

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, the weight of his words pressing into something deep, something she had never been able to name.

Because everything—everything—made sense now.

Her existence.

Her presence.

The reason she had felt separate from Maya, the reason her emotions weren't just instincts—they were hers.

The way she could think. Speak. Want.

She wasn't just a twisted instinct clawing at the edges of Maya's mind.

She was a consciousness.

A being born alongside Maya's transformation.

Not just a parasite of hunger.

Something real.

Her breath came shallow, unsteady, the realization settling into her bones.

And Astron—

Astron had seen it.

Understood it.

Accepted it.

His voice softened, but his words were as unwavering as ever.

"The way she acted was too dual," he said. "Too unnatural, as if she became someone else entirely."

Her vision blurred slightly, something unfamiliar pressing against her chest.

"So I realized—becoming a vampire isn't just about the body."

His fingers pressed lightly against her back, grounding her.

"It's also about the mind."

Her breath trembled, her body shuddering against him.

Because if that was true—if she wasn't just a mistake, wasn't just an uncontrolled instinct—

Then she wasn't just Maya's hunger.

She was something more.

She was someone.

Her fingers twitched against his uniform.

"Really…?"

The word left her lips softer than she had intended, quiet, uncertain.

She had acted bold before. Had lunged at him without hesitation, had spoken to him with confidence, had laughed with satisfaction at finally being seen.

But now—standing before him, hearing those words, the act of boldness and recklessness vanished.

Because this moment—this truth—

It was real.

Astron nodded. "Yes."

His hand didn't leave her back, steadying her, grounding her. "You yourself are a separate being from Maya." His voice was calm, unwavering. "You share the same body, yet your powers are different."

Her breath caught.

A separate being.

Not just an instinct.

Not just a hunger.

A being.

"…."

She had no words.

Only a quiet, unsettled silence.

Astron's violet gaze remained fixed on her, unshaken. "You are different," he said. "I can see that."

His voice lowered slightly, as if drawing her closer to the truth she already knew.

"And you can see that too, can't you?"

Her fingers clenched against his uniform, her breath slow and heavy.

Yes.

She could.

She had always known.

Maya wasn't like her.

She wasn't bold.

She wasn't reckless.

She wasn't driven.

Astron was directing the conversation there now—slowly, deliberately. And she knew why.

Because he knew.

He had seen it too.

Maya was different.

Weaker.

Hesitant.

Always holding back, always clinging to control, always second-guessing herself.

And it angered her.

Her other self hated it.

Because Maya could have everything—but she never reached for it.

She had seen it so clearly that day.

When Irina and Sylvie had come to visit him in the infirmary.

When Irina had confronted him, standing before him, speaking without hesitation, without fear.

Her fingers clenched tighter against his uniform, her breath uneven, trembling—not from weakness, but from something deeper, something boiling.

Because she knew.

Maya wasn't like her.

Maya's feelings were complicated, tangled with uncertainty, hesitation, and restraint. Maya didn't reach for him, didn't crave him the way she did. And it wasn't because she didn't care. It wasn't because she was indifferent.

It was because Maya simply didn't have the drive.

The fire.

The need.

That desire—the one that burned through her veins, the one that made her starve whenever he wasn't near, the one that made her obsess—that was hers. Not Maya's. Hers.

And yet—

She couldn't have him.

Even now, standing here, in his embrace, feeling his warmth, tasting his blood still thick on her tongue—she couldn't have him.

The realization made something inside her twist, coil, snap.

Her fingers curled into fists against his chest. Her voice, when she spoke, was low, strained.

"…I want to be close to you."

She could feel his steady, measured breathing. Could feel his pulse—her pulse now, because his blood was inside her, coursing through her, making her feel more alive than she had ever felt before.

And yet—

She still felt the distance.

Astron nodded, his hand still resting against her back, his voice just as calm as always.

"You want to be close to me as much as possible, isn't that the case?"

Her breath hitched.

Yes.

She wanted him.

Not in a vague, distant way—not in the way Maya hesitated, not in the way Maya second-guessed every single emotion she had toward him.

She wanted him wholly.

Completely.

Without question.

Without restraint.

Without hesitation.

"Yes."

The word left her lips like a vow.

And yet, before she could revel in it, before she could reach for more, his next words cut through her like a knife.

"But you can't."