Day one of training nearly killed him.

  Mira didn't believe in gentle introductions. She woke Viktor at dawn—his timer reading 96:22:14, four days left—and immediately put a knife in his hand.

  "Attack me," she said.

  "What?"

  "Stab me. Drain me. Kill me." She stood in the center of the safehouse, arms relaxed at her sides. "I'm a Scavenger with eight days. You need my time. Take it."

  Viktor held the knife awkwardly. "I'm not going to—"

  Mira moved.

  One second she was three meters away. The next, she had him pinned against the wall, his own knife at his throat.

  "In the Arena," she said quietly, "Dominik won't hesitate. Won't give you time to think. He'll drain you in thirty seconds and walk away richer." She released him. "Again. Attack me."

  Viktor lunged. Mira sidestepped, tripped him, and he hit the floor hard.

  "Predictable. Again."

  This time he tried to grab her wrist—go for the drain instead of the stab. She twisted out of his grip, swept his legs, put him on his back.

  "Slow. Again."

  Hour one: Viktor didn't land a single hit.

  Hour two: He managed to grab her jacket. She broke his grip in half a second.

  Hour three: He got his hand on her wrist. Felt the connection form. Started to drain—

  Mira reversed it. Her will overpowered his. Time flowed backward.

  Viktor's timer dropped: 95:18:14 → 95:17:14 → 95:16:14.

  "Control," Mira said, letting him go. "Willpower matters as much as contact. If someone's stronger mentally, they can reverse your drain. Dominik's will is like iron. You try to drain him, he'll drain you back twice as fast."

  Viktor gasped for breath on the floor. Every muscle ached.

  "So how do I beat him?"

  "You don't drain him at all. You outlast him." Mira pulled him up. "Dominik has thirteen years. That makes him strong, fast, hard to tire. But it also makes him comfortable. He'll toy with you. Let the crowd enjoy the show."

  "And I use that?"

  "You survive. Stay defensive. Make him work for every second. Then when he's bored, frustrated—that's when you strike. One perfect moment. Drain him hard and fast before he realizes what's happening."

  "That's a terrible plan."

  "You have a better one?"

  Viktor didn't.

  They trained through the day. Knife work. Grappling. How to drain while fighting. How to protect your own wrist while attacking theirs.

  By evening, Viktor's timer read 94:08:14—three days, twenty-two hours. He'd lost almost a full day to training drains and time passing.

  And he still couldn't beat Mira.

  "Enough for today," she said finally. She was barely winded. Viktor could barely stand.

  He collapsed on the couch. "I'm going to die in two days."

  "Probably." Mira went to the kitchen, started making coffee. "But you'll die fighting. That's better than most Scavengers get."

  "Inspiring."

  She brought him coffee. Sat across from him. "Viktor. Real talk. You need more time before the duel. Your five days isn't enough. Even with training, Dominik will overpower you."

  "So what do I do? Ask him nicely for a postponement?"

  "No. You hunt." Mira pulled out her tablet, brought up a file. "There's a Scavenger named Jakub Král. Twenty-eight years old. Awakened six months ago. Current timer: fourteen days."

  She showed Viktor a photo. Ordinary-looking man. Thinning hair. Nervous eyes.

  "Jakub preys on dying Awakened," Mira continued. "Hangs around hospitals. Finds people in their last hours and offers to 'help end it peacefully.' Then he drains them and walks away with whatever time they had left."

  Viktor's stomach turned. "That's—"

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  "Legal. Technically. If the dying person consents, it's a trade, not a murder." Mira's voice was flat. "But Jakub targets people too sick to refuse. Too scared of dissolution to fight back. He's scum."

  "And you want me to kill him."

  "I want you to survive. Jakub has fourteen days. You drain him, you'll have over eighteen days total. That's enough to fight Dominik on more equal footing."

  Viktor looked at the photo. Jakub had a family—there was a ring on his finger in the picture. A wife. Maybe kids.

  "He has people who care about him," Viktor said quietly.

  "So did Tomá?. So will everyone you kill from now on." Mira set down the tablet. "This is the choice, Viktor. Be the good person who dies with clean hands, or be the monster who survives. The Chronos System doesn't reward morality."

  Viktor stared at his coffee. The steam rose in lazy spirals.

  He thought about his mother. How she'd died slowly, painfully, while Viktor watched helpless. How he'd failed her. Failed at architecture. Failed at life.

  The Chronos System had given him a second chance. A horrifying, blood-soaked chance, but a chance nonetheless.

  He could die in two days with his conscience intact.

  Or he could live.

  "Where do I find him?" Viktor asked.

  Mira smiled. It didn't reach her eyes.

  "Motol Hospital. He'll be there tonight, looking for fresh targets." She stood. "Get some rest. You hunt at midnight."

  Motol Hospital sat on Prague's western edge, a sprawling complex of white buildings and parking garages. Viktor arrived just after midnight—timer reading 90:14:08, three days eighteen hours.

  Mira had stayed behind. "This is your kill. You need to do it alone. Prove you can hunt, not just defend."

  He felt sick.

  The hospital's emergency entrance hummed with late-night activity. Ambulances. Nurses. Security guards who couldn't see the timers floating above everyone's wrists.

  Viktor walked past them. Headed for the oncology wing.

  If Jakub hunted dying Awakened, that's where he'd be.

  The oncology floor was quiet at night. Dim lights. Hushed voices. Viktor passed rooms where people slept—some with months left, others with mere days. Not all of them were Awakened. Those who weren't had no timers, no countdown.

  Lucky them.

  Room 412. The door was ajar.

  Inside, Viktor heard voices.

  "—just end it," a man said. Old. Tired. "I'm done fighting."

  "I understand." Jakub's voice. Soft. Sympathetic. "Cancer is cruel. But you don't have to suffer through dissolution. I can help you go peacefully."

  "How?"

  "You give me your time. All of it. Consensually. It'll drain fast—thirty seconds, and you'll be gone. No pain. No fear. Just... sleep."

  Silence.

  Then: "What do you get out of it?"

  "Your remaining time. Five days, according to your timer. I'm being honest with you, friend. I'm not doing this from kindness. But it's still a better death than the alternative."

  "I have a daughter—"

  "Then leave her a note. Tell her you loved her. Tell her goodbye." Jakub's voice dropped lower. "But your time is yours to give. And I'm offering you peace."

  Viktor's hand tightened on the knife in his jacket.

  The old man inside sighed. "Alright. Do it."

  Viktor moved.

  He pushed the door open. The hospital room was small—one bed, machines beeping, medical charts. The old man lay propped on pillows, skeletal thin, his timer reading 5:08:14—five days.

  Jakub stood beside the bed, hand already reaching for the old man's wrist.

  He looked up. Saw Viktor.

  "Occupied," Jakub said coldly. "Find your own mark."

  Viktor stepped inside. Closed the door.

  "Leave him alone."

  Jakub's expression shifted—annoyance to calculation. His eyes flicked to Viktor's timer. 90:13:08. Three days.

  "You're the one who killed Tomá?," Jakub said slowly. "Dominik's blood debt. You've got guts showing your face in public."

  "Walk away," Viktor said. "Find someone else."

  "This is a consensual trade. Legal. None of your business." Jakub's hand moved closer to the old man's wrist. "Leave. Now."

  Viktor pulled the knife.

  Jakub smiled. "You won't use that. Security's two floors down. Stab me, and you'll be on camera. Arrested. Timer hits zero in a cell."

  "Then I won't stab you." Viktor stepped forward. "I'll drain you. Just like you drain them."

  For a moment, they stared at each other.

  Then Jakub lunged.

  He was faster than Tomá?—six months of Awakening, fourteen days of time, desperation making him efficient. His hand shot out, grabbed Viktor's wrist.

  The drain started immediately.

  90:13:08 → 90:12:14 → 90:10:22

  Viktor felt the cold flow, felt his time leaking. He yanked back, broke contact.

  Jakub came again. This time Viktor was ready—sidestepped, training kicking in, grabbed Jakub's wrist instead.

  Reversed the drain.

  14 days → 13 days 23 hours → 13 days 22 hours

  Jakub's eyes widened. "Wait—"

  Viktor didn't wait.

  He channeled everything Mira had taught him. Willpower. Focus. Intent.

  The drain accelerated.

  13 days 22 hours → 13 days 18 hours → 13 days 12 hours

  Jakub tried to pull away. Viktor held on, gripping with both hands now, pouring his will into the connection.

  13 days → 12 days → 10 days

  "Stop," Jakub gasped. "Please—I have a wife—a daughter—"

  8 days → 5 days → 2 days

  Viktor thought about the old man. About all the dying people Jakub had drained. About his mother, who'd died slowly while Viktor could do nothing.

  1 day → 12 hours → 4 hours

  Jakub's struggles weakened. His timer plummeted.

  1 hour → 30 minutes → 5 minutes

  "Please," Jakub whispered. "Please don't—"

  2 minutes → 1 minute → 30 seconds

  Viktor let go.

  Jakub collapsed against the wall, gasping. His timer flickered: 00:14:22. Fourteen minutes.

  "Go," Viktor said. "You've got fourteen minutes. Use them however you want."

  Jakub stared at him. Then he ran.

  Viktor's timer glowed: 104:22:14. Four days, eight hours.

  He'd gained fourteen days from Jakub.

  No. Not fourteen days. He'd left Jakub with fourteen minutes.

  The old man in the bed spoke. "Thank you."

  Viktor looked at him. The man's timer still read 5:08:14. Five days. Cancer would kill him long before the timer ran out.

  "You should spend your time with your daughter," Viktor said quietly.

  "I will." The old man closed his eyes. "Get out of here before security comes. And son? Whatever you're becoming—don't lose yourself completely. Not yet."

  Viktor left.

  He made it three blocks before he vomited in an alley. Less than last time. That should have been comforting.

  It wasn't.

  He'd just stolen fourteen days from a man. Had been ready to drain him to zero, to dissolve him. Had only stopped at the last second out of... what? Mercy? Weakness?

  The worst part: no guilt. Just cold calculation. Jakub had fourteen days. Viktor had taken all but fourteen minutes. Strategic. Efficient.

  Mira had been right.

  He was becoming a predator.

  His phone buzzed. Text from Mira:

  Hospital security cameras show Jakub Král fleeing. Timer visibly low. His wife just posted a 50-day bounty on you. Congratulations. You're officially fucked.

  Viktor looked at his timer. 104:18:14. Four days.

  Forty-eight hours until Dominik.

  And now Jakub's wife wanted him dead too.

  He started walking. Back to the safehouse. Back to training.

  Because Mira was right about something else: the Chronos System didn't reward morality.

  It rewarded survival.

  And Viktor Krause intended to survive.