The rooftop of the Upbringer's Citadel was not meant for training.
The wind soared strongly. The stars were clearly visible. The moonlight reflected off the glass.
Like usual, Royoshi was waiting for the translucent man. But this time he wanted to know something.
He was still confused by what Master Devrik told him.
Why did he hide his real identity?
The hologram arrived after a few moments.
The stars stretched across the sky like scattered glass.
"I suppose you already know who I am." The hologram continued. "So I don't need to hide it anymore."
"Did you ever plan on telling me that…" Royoshi asked.
"Yes, I did," Rikishu replied.
"Then why not sooner…"
"It's because I wanted to prepare you beforehand."
"So every time you helped me… was that training or guilt?" Royoshi asked.
"A blend of both." Rikishu continued. "I train you not just because I want you to become strong, but I want someone who can replace me. Someone who doesn't inherit my regret."
"What if I want to be myself? What if I don't want your role?"
Rikishu was silent for a moment.
"Then you already understand more than I did," he said finally.
The wind shifted.
"I didn't want my role either," Rikishu continued. "I accepted it because the world needed it."
Royoshi's jaw clenched.
"And look where that got you."
"Yes," Rikishu said softly. "That's why I'm not asking you to become me."
Royoshi met his gaze. "Then what are you asking?"
"I'm asking you to choose," he said. "Something I never did."
"If you walk away," Rikishu continued. "I won't stop you."
Royoshi frowned. "That doesn't sound like you."
A faint smile crossed Rikishu's face.
"That's because I'm trying not to make you me," Rikishu replied. "I'm trying to make you something better."
Royoshi felt something then.
"Did you feel it too?"
"Yes, I did," Rikishu replied. "It's time for me to go. Take care of this."
"WAI-" Rikishu vanished before Royoshi even finished speaking.
Something was watching Royoshi. He felt it.
It was not a person.
The stars dimmed. The wind stopped. Moonlight bent. Citadel's sensor didn't react right away.
"Show yourself," Royoshi demanded.
"You're not here to kill me," Royoshi said quietly.
Royoshi exhaled slowly.
"You're here to see what I do without him."
"Bring it on."
A mysterious figure appeared. It's Shuryoku that was leaking. It was as dark as the space. It was as red as blood.
Royoshi felt it. It's Shuryoku brushed off his skin. His own Shuryoku started circulating.
He knew he had to do something quick.
The thing in front of him did not move closer.
"Still not talking?" Royoshi said. His voice flattened, as if the space itself didn't care enough to echo it.
He remembered Rikishu's voice.
Fail without collapsing.
He let his circulation drop—just enough to be noticed.
The pressure shifted immediately.
"So you react," Royoshi muttered. "You're watching how I regulate."
The anomaly tilted—if that movement could be called a tilt. Space bent around it.
"You're not here to end me," Royoshi continued, this time with more confidence. "If you were, you wouldn't be waiting."
The pressure deepened.
For the first time in ages, Royoshi felt something close to fear. Not heavy. Not sharp. But heavy.
This wasn't a test of strength.
It was a test of identity.
Royoshi exhaled slowly.
"If you're here to judge me," he said quietly, "then watch carefully."
Royoshi's Shuryoku started to charge up.
The anomaly did not strike.
It waited.
The pressure snapped right after.
Space folded to Royoshi's right, and the anomaly was suddenly there, red-black Shuryoku tearing through the air.
Royoshi barely twisted aside.
Pressure crushed inwards, forcing his Shuryoku back into him, distorting the loop mid-cycle.
That wasn't combat.
It was suppression.
"Okay," he coughed, sliding back. "So that's how you want to do this."
He stabilized too late.
Another distortion struck, not aimed at his body but at the space around him. Royoshi felt his balance vanish as gravity twisted sideways for a fraction of a second.
He hit the ground hard.
Pain flared.
The anomaly hovered above him, form pulsing, Shuryoku thickening.
Then— it stopped.
Not because Royoshi acted.
Because something else did.
The anomaly's form tilted sharply towards the far edge of the rooftop.
Royoshi felt it too.
A presence.
"Ishara," he breathed.
The anomaly didn't hesitate.
It tore away from him, space snapping back into place as it collapsed distance.
Royoshi lay there, stunned.
Then Rikishu's voice surfaced as a memory, not instructions.
I accepted it because the world needed it.
Royoshi clenched his fists.
He forced himself up, circulation uneven but holding.
"No," he said hoarsely. "You're not attacking her."
This time, he didn't hide it.
He ran.
Royoshi didn't slow his circulation this time.
He let it run.
Alarms finally stirred somewhere inside the Citadel, delayed.
Too late, Royoshi thought.
The rooftop above the eastern wing came into view.
Ishara stood near the edge, one knee braced against the wind.
She hadn't drawn her weapon.
That terrified him.
"ISHARA!" he shouted.
She turned sharply.
For a split second, relief crossed her face.
Then the anomaly moved.
It didn't rush her. It pressed.
The air thickened around her, pressure rose.
Royoshi felt it.
A warning.
A boundary.
"Don't," he said, stepping forward.
The anomaly acknowledged him.
This was the test.
If he surged, Ishara would be crushed.
If he hesitated, she would be taken.
Rikishu had chosen the world.
Royoshi chose a person.
He dropped his circulation.
The pressure snapped inwards—not around her but him.
Royoshi staggered, vision dimming.
But Ishara breathed again.
Not injured.
Interested.
For the first time, it faced Royoshi fully.
In that moment, Royoshi understood something with clarity.
This thing wasn't measuring his strength.
It was measuring what he was willing to lose.
The anomaly shifted gain.
Royoshi felt it before he saw it—
a distortion that didn't aim at him.
"ISAHRA—!"
Air folded behind her.
The rooftop edge twisted, gravity sliding sideways instead of down. Ishara staggered boots staggered.
She reached—
Missed.
The anomaly pressed.
Royoshi moved before thinking.
He didn't surge.
He interrupted.
His Shuryoku snapped outward— it forced between her and the distortion like a broken circuit.
It worked.
Ishara slammed into him instead of empty air.
The pressure didn't stop.
It turned inward.
Royoshi felt his circulation collapse on itself. Vision blurred. Sound dropped to a dull ring.
The anomaly hovered above them.
Watching.
Evaluating.
It struck again.
Royoshi didn't block.
He shifted.
He twisted his body just enough that the impact only hit him.
Pain exploded.
He gasped.
Pain flared inside him.
Then it began to dissolve. Like a conclusion.
Space unfolded back into place. The air began soaring again. The moonlight reflected off the glass near them.
Royoshi lay still.
Ishara pushed herself up first.
"Royoshi!"
He opened one eye.
"I'm okay," he said, voice barely there.
She stared at him in worry.
He swallowed, trying to force breath back in rhythm.
"…Are you okay?"
She nodded once.
"Good…," he murmured.
Then his circulation finally failed.
Alarms screamed across the Citadel.
"Royoshi?" Ishara asked.
Security lights flared.
Boots hit the rooftop.
Royoshi Kairo was already unconscious when they reached him.
And whatever had come to see him—
was gone.