The sky above the city didn't just turn dark; it bruised. The setting sun bled a deep, sickly violet across the horizon, casting long, skeletal shadows over the industrial district as Yuki, Seri, Derek, and Mika moved toward the northern docks. The air here was different—thick with the scent of salt, rust, and the metallic tang of old oil.
Yuki's breathing had leveled out. The manic, jagged edges of his fury had receded into a cold, clinical focus. The adrenaline was still there, but it was no longer a fire; it was a blade. He stopped walking, the gravel crunching under his shoes, and turned to look at the two students behind him.
"Raiko-san... Mizushi-san... you don't have to come. This isn't a school duel anymore." Yuki said, his voice eerily steady. "You've done enough. You saw the apartment. You saw the note. This isn't a school duel anymore. These people are killers."
Derek crossed his arms, the orange light of the dying sun reflecting off his calm eyes. "I don't walk away from a challenge, Kinatarou-kun. You should know that by now."
Seri stepped forward, her eyes scanning the dark skyline before landing on the group. Her royal instincts were kicking in, overriding her personal fury. She knew Yuki was right about the danger, but she also knew they couldn't win through raw numbers if they didn't have a plan.
"Raiko-san, take Mizushi-san," Seri commanded, her voice regaining its authoritative Kyorin edge. "Go to the Kyorin Residence. My father is away, but the Third-Tier guards know me. Tell them the Kyorin Princess demands an extraction team at North Port, Pillar 4. If my father's deputies give you trouble, tell them I'll have their heads when he returns."
Mika looked at Yuki, her deep blue eyes shimmering with worry, then at Seri. "But... what about you two?"
"We're just scouting," Seri lied smoothly, though her fists clenched tightly suggesting otherwise. "We won't engage until you get back with the reinforcements. Now, go!"
Derek nodded once, realizing the logic in having a backup plan. He grabbed Mika's shoulder, guiding the trembling girl away. As they retreated back toward the city lights, the silence of the docks began to swallow Yuki and Seri.
The walk away from the port was quieter. Mika clutched the hem of her sweater, her eyes darting toward the shadows. Finally, she looked up at Derek, her voice a tiny whisper.
"Derek-san... why?"
Derek didn't slow his pace. "Why what, Mika?"
"Why are we doing this? We're Luminaries and Paragons... we're supposed to stay safe. Kinatarou-kun is an Acolyte, and he's... he's dangerous to be around. Why are we helping him so much? We barely know him."
Derek stopped, looking back at the dark silhouette of the crane-filled horizon. A small, genuine smile played on his lips—the kind of smile he only wore when he was truly interested in something.
"Honestly? I'm bored, Mika," he admitted. "My life has been a series of 'correct' choices. I study, I train, I win. It's a cycle of perfection that has become a cage. But Yuki?" Derek chuckled softly. "There's never a dull moment with him. He's the first person I've met who treats a 'Zero' status like a hidden weapon rather than a curse. Helping him... it feels like finally being part of a story that wasn't written for me."
Mika looked down at her hands, feeling the cold Ki humming in her veins. "He feels like a storm," she whispered. "I'm just afraid we're going to get swept away."
At the edge of the North Port, the wind whipped off the ocean, carrying the chill of the deep water. The building ahead was a massive, rusted warehouse, its windows boarded up like blind eyes. To a normal person, it looked dead.
To Yuki and Seri, it was screaming.
"I can sense them," Seri whispered, her hand hovering over her hilt. "At least a dozen signatures. Some are weak, but two... two of them are dense. High Adept, maybe even Luminary."
Yuki didn't rely on Ki sensing. He closed his eyes, tilting his head. His physical prowess, he had a strong sense of smell and hearing, a trait he inherited from his father.
He caught it.
Underneath the smell of rot and salt, there was a faint, sweet scent—strawberry soap. It was the soap he had bought for Luna just two days ago.
"She's in there," Yuki hissed, his pupils dilating. "Left quadrant. Basement level. She's scared... I can hear her heartbeat. It's too fast."
He took a step toward the front loading bay, his muscles coiling like a spring, but Seri's hand snapped out, grabbing his wrist.
"You know for someone really smart you're very stupid." she hissed. "If you barge in through the front, they'll use her as a shield before you even clear the doorway. We need an alternative. A vent, a side hatch, anything."
Yuki gritted his teeth, the urge to tear the building apart warring with the cold logic in Seri's eyes. "Fine. We split. Circle the perimeter." Yuki chuckled lightly. "I don't even know what perimeter means."
Seri sighed in relief, she was happy Yuki could still maintain some of his original energy in the situation.
Seri nodded. "Five minutes. Meet back at the north-east corner. Do not engage, Yuki. That's an order."
They parted like shadows. Yuki moved with the silent grace of a wolf, staying low beneath the rusted shipping containers. He moved clockwise, his nose twitching, his ears straining for any sign of a guard. He found a small drainage pipe, but it was too narrow. He found a reinforced steel door, but it was locked with a Kizo-seal that would alert the whole building if touched.
He completed the circle, reaching the north-east corner in exactly four minutes.
The corner was empty.
"Seri?" he whispered into the dark.
No answer.
Yuki waited another minute. Then two. The silence of the docks felt heavier now, pressing against his eardrums. He walked to where she should have been standing. The ground was disturbed—gravel kicked aside as if someone had pivoted sharply.
He leaned down, pressing his nose to the cold earth. He caught Seri's scent—sharp pine and ozone. But it didn't lead back toward him. It led straight toward a rusted ventilation grate that had been pried open just enough for a slender girl to slip through.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
Did she find an opening and go in without me? Or did one of those 'dense' signatures catch her scent
Yuki stared at the dark hole in the wall. He was an Acolyte, his friends were gone, his guardian was missing, and his sister was screaming in the dark.
He didn't smile this time. He simply stepped into the hole, descending into the belly of the beast.
The atmosphere in the warehouse shifted the moment Yuki stepped into the center of the floor. The air was thick with the smell of seawater and grease, but beneath it was the overwhelming, suffocating pressure of a high-tier Kizo presence.
Yuki was completely surrounded. Forty men emerged from the shadows of the shipping containers—thirty hired mercenaries with assault rifles and ten Kizo users, their hands glowing with varying elemental signatures.
"Fuck." Yuki sighed raising both hands. "I shoulda stayed outside."
At the far end of the warehouse, a makeshift throne had been constructed out of steel crates. There sat Giyu Kinatarou.
Yuki's breath hitched. Giyu looked exactly as he did in Yuki's nightmares: a towering figure of muscle and arrogance, his ember eyes glowing with a predatory warmth that contradicted the cruelty of his actions. His dark orange hair was swept back, and despite being in his forties, he radiated a vitality that made the room feel too small.
The sight of Giyu was enough to trigger a visceral reaction, but it was the scene at his feet that broke Yuki's restraint.
To Giyu's right lay Luna. She was panting, her breath coming in ragged, painful hitches. The clothes Yuki had carefully chosen for her were shredded and stained with crimson. To Giyu's left, Seri was forced onto her knees, her hands bound tightly with thick cords. Giyu's large hand rested on her head, his fingers stroking her green hair with a mocking gentleness.
Yuki didn't speak. He didn't offer a witty retort or a plea for mercy. The sound that came from his throat was low and guttural, a sound of pure, unadulterated hatred. Veins bulged along his neck and across his temples, throbbing with the sheer pressure of his blood as his heart hammered against his ribs.
His gaze was fixed on Luna. Every ragged breath she took felt like a blade twisting in his chest. Then his eyes shifted to Giyu's hand on Seri's head.
"Take your hand..." Yuki's voice was a jagged rasp, barely human. "...off her."
Giyu's smile didn't falter. He leaned back, his muscular frame dwarfing the makeshift throne. "Or what, little wolf? You'll growl at me? You're an Acolyte. You're nothing. You are the same pathetic boy I broke years ago, still crying over things too weak to survive."
Giyu's grip tightened on Seri's hair, forcing her head back until she was staring directly at the trembling, vein-riven face of the boy she thought she knew "This girl put up quite a fight. I used a gas like chemical made from this little one's blood to cancel out her kizo."
"Look at him, Princess," Giyu purred, his voice dripping with mock pity. "You see a hero, don't you? A tragic 'Zero' fighting against the odds." Giyu's ember eyes snapped to Yuki, a cruel, knowing smile stretching across his face. "But you haven't told her what you really are, have you, Yuki? You haven't told her what happened when you were ten." Giyu's smile grew even wider. "He's a murderer."
"Stop," Yuki whispered, but the authority was gone from his voice. It was replaced by a hollow, childlike dread.
"He hasn't told you about the screaming, has he?" Giyu continued, leaning closer to Seri's ear. "About the way the cabin looked when he was done? He isn't a 'Zero' because he lacks power, Seri Kyorin. He's a 'Zero' because he's a monstrous killer. He's afraid that if he lets that demonic Black Ice out, there won't be anyone left to bury the bodies."
Yuki's head lowered. His shoulders slumped, and the terrifying pressure he had been exerting on the room vanished, replaced by a crushing weight of guilt. He didn't deny it. He couldn't.
Seri looked from the mocking Giyu to the broken Yuki. "Yuki...?" she breathed, her voice filled with a mixture of confusion and a growing, sickening fear.
But Yuki wasn't in the warehouse anymore. As the rain drummed against the metal roof, the sound transformed into the crackle of a burning estate ten years in the past.