The Forsaken Seal

The forest floor felt uneven beneath Layron's boots, damp moss and rotting leaves squelching underfoot as he stood at the edge of the clearing. The cold morning air pressed against his skin, but his hands were sweating — not from the weather, but from what Gramps had told him just minutes ago.

"Your training's done for now," Gramps had said. "I've seen enough."

Layron's shoulders had sagged with relief — until Gramps continued.

"There's only one way to know if you actually learned anything." Gramps' voice had been almost playful, but his eyes were all steel. "Out here, in the deep woods, there's a wild bear. You're going to wake it up."

Layron's stomach had dropped. "And then?"

"And then," Gramps said, smiling like it was the simplest thing in the world, "you survive."

Before Layron could argue, Gramps turned and walked back toward the village, leaving him alone.

No weapons. No backup. No explanations.

Just him. And the bear.

Now, standing alone in the silence of the forest, Layron could still hear Gramps' words echoing in his head. Survive.

His heart pounded. The training — two days of learning how to unlock the Foresight Break, predicting movements before they happened — was still fresh in his mind. He'd managed to see Gramps' punches before they landed, even dodge some of them.

But Gramps wasn't a bear. And Gramps had been holding back.

The low rumble of the bear's breathing drifted through the trees, deep and heavy, like distant thunder rolling beneath the earth. Layron crept forward, eyes darting around the clearing, until he saw it — sprawled out under the twisted roots of an ancient tree.

The bear was massive, fur matted with dirt and old scars, its chest rising and falling with every breath. Its claws, long enough to split Layron in half, dug into the earth even as it slept.

Layron's breath came faster. His hands shook.

Just trigger it and run. That's the task. Trigger it… and survive.

He took a slow step forward.

Another.

The third step pressed down on a dry, brittle twig.

CRACK.

The bear's breathing stopped.

Layron froze.

Its eyes opened — two black pits locking onto him immediately. Its snout twitched, catching his scent.

Layron's stomach plummeted.

Then the bear rose.

Not slowly. Not groggy. It moved like something had flipped a switch inside its massive frame — one second lying down, the next lunging forward, dirt exploding beneath its paws.

Layron bolted.

Branches whipped at his face, undergrowth clawing at his legs. His breath came in sharp, panicked bursts as his boots pounded the uneven forest floor. His mind screamed at him to use his training, to focus — but the terror was too loud.

It's too fast.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Zorthaal's voice — sharp, calm and furious exploded inside his mind.

"RUNNING BLIND?! AFTER ALL THAT TRAINING?!"

Layron stumbled, nearly losing his balance. "Shut up!" he shouted aloud, even though his own legs refused to obey him.

"TURN AROUND! FACE IT! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!"

Layron's legs froze mid-sprint — not because of fear, but because Zorthaal's will pressed down through his bones, holding him in place.

He fought against it, but his neck twisted on its own, dragging his eyes back toward the charging bear.

It was so close.

Jaws wide. Saliva spraying with every roar. Eyes locked on Layron, pure predator focus.

"Foresight Break! Now!" Zorthaal roared.

Layron's trembling hands clenched into fists as he squeezed his eyes shut. His chest heaved, fear crashing through him like a tide, but somewhere beneath it — deep in his mind — the technique Gramps had hammered into him snapped into place.

The world stretched.

The bear's charge slowed into broken fragments. Every footstep rippled through the dirt, every shift in its weight dragging out into a series of half-motions. Layron could see the exact position where the bear's paw would strike, the precise moment its jaws would snap shut.

Layron's hand moved — not out of confidence, but desperation — and caught the bear's massive paw before it could crush him.

His bones screamed under the weight of it, his knees nearly buckling, but somehow… he held.

But the bear had another paw.

The second one lashed out, too fast for Layron to block — and in that split second, something changed.

The air around Layron shifted.

The ground beneath his feet darkened, his shadow stretching unnaturally far, tendrils curling at the edges like ink dissolving in water.

The bear's second paw froze mid-air.

Its breath stuttered. Its muscles trembled.

Its eyes — those dark, primal eyes — shrank to pinpricks.

The bear felt something.

Not Layron.

Something inside Layron.

The predator's instinct, sharper than any human's senses, recognized it immediately — the presence of a greater predator.

Zorthaal.

The bear let out a strange, broken whimper — the sound of something at the top of the food chain realizing it wasn't at the top anymore.

It stumbled back. Once. Twice.

Then it turned and fled, crashing through the underbrush, never looking back.

Layron stood there, knees shaking, his chest heaving so hard he felt dizzy. His fingers still curled from the grip on the bear's paw, the phantom sensation still tingling in his skin.

"What… was that?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Zorthaal's laughter curled through his mind, low and satisfied.

"You did it."

Layron blinked. "What?"

"You made it run." Zorthaal's voice was filled with pride. "That's your power, boy — your Foresight Break sharpened your presence. You gave off the aura of a predator — and the bear felt it."

Layron's breath slowed. He glanced down at his hands, shaking slightly, but now with something else — something closer to excitement.

"I scared it…" he whispered.

"You didn't just scare it," Zorthaal said, voice smooth.

"You ruled over it. With nothing but instinct."

Layron's heart pounded again — but it was a different beat this time. Not terror. Thrill.

For the first time, Layron saw himself not as prey.

But as something far more dangerous.

And Zorthaal smiled, unseen inside the depths of his mind.

Because Layron had no idea…

That fear had never been his.

It was Zorthaal's all along.

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What This Version Achieves

Foresight Break feels powerful and mythic.

Zorthaal manipulates Layron into thinking he unlocked the fear aura himself.

Layron's confidence grows — dangerously — while Zorthaal's influence stays hidden.

Gramps' training still matters, but Layron's progress feels unnatural, which fits the curse's influence.

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