Aerith shifted her posture. She knelt at the edge of the pool, her back perfectly straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The playful expression from moments ago vanished, replaced by a serenity that bordered on the sacred.
She turned toward Johnny, her emerald eyes seeming to burn brighter within the dim cavern.
"Johnny..." she called softly.
"Hold my hand. Tight," Aerith requested. Her voice was serious, commanding yet gentle. "I am going to try to speak to the Lifestream."
Johnny asked no questions. His razor-sharp instincts sensed the shift in atmospheric pressure. The energy in the room had become dense, almost heavy.
Without a sound, Johnny scooted closer. He extended a hand—rough and heavily calloused—and carefully enveloped Aerith's petite, cool fingers within his grasp.
Johnny simply followed her lead, surrendering his trust to this strange girl.
Suddenly, the water's surface trembled, though there was no wind.
Green light rose from the pool, solidifying into a mist that enveloped them both. The whispering voices that usually created chaotic noise in Aerith's mind merged into a singular entity—a voice that was ancient, resonant, and vibrated directly against their sternums.
"Guardian..."
Johnny flinched. Aerith closed her eyes, accepting the voice.
"One of the Flower that Remembers. One of the Iron that Forgets."
"Gaia Weeps. The Sky Will Fall. Darkness From a Distant Star is Approaching."
The water in the pool churned violently. Two tendrils of luminous water rose like serpents, coiling around Johnny's left wrist and Aerith's right wrist.
"We bind you. Not as victims, but as a Shield."
A sensation of searing heat rushed up from Johnny's wrist. It felt like liquid metal was being poured directly into his veins. It was dangerously close to the agony of the Brand of Sacrifice, yet this was different.
The Lifestream wasn't trying to devour him; it was trying to fill him.
Johnny groaned through gritted teeth, "UGHHHHHHH...!"
His jaw clenched as he withstood the surge of energy. His body trembled, not from fear, but because his small vessel was barely capable of containing such immense power.
"Hold on, Johnny," Aerith whispered. Her voice sounded distant, yet it echoed from all directions.
"They want to greet you."
Suddenly, Johnny's vision went white.
The muscles of his teenage body seized, swelled slightly, then compacted with new density. He felt the raw strength of Guts returning—the power required to swing the Dragon Slayer—now flowing in torrents, amplified by the pure energy of the Planet. The physical limits of a normal human were being erased from his biology.
On the other side, Aerith took a deep breath, her body glowing with a soft radiance. She felt a sturdy protection, as if a fortress of steel now coated her fragile soul.
"Bound in life. Bound in pain. If one cracks, the other bleeds."
The light exploded silently, then absorbed into their skin.
Silence followed.
Johnny opened his eyes. His breath came in ragged gasps. He felt... incredibly strong.
He gripped a stone on the edge of the pool, and without any effort, the rock pulverized into fine dust in his hand.
"This power..." Johnny whispered, staring at his palm. "This is more than just muscle."
But suddenly, Johnny felt a sharp sting in his palm. He looked down and saw a small scratch—likely from a sharp shard of the stone he had just crushed. It was a trivial injury.
"Ow!"
Johnny turned, startled. It wasn't him who had cried out.
It was Aerith.
The girl was holding her own palm, grimacing in pain. On Aerith's flawless skin, a thin red line appeared—no scratch, but the pain was transmitted through the Lifestream.
Johnny's eyes widened in horror. "Aerith? Your hand..."
Aerith looked at her wound, blank but the feeling it was real, then up at Johnny. She smiled, though her eyes betrayed the weight of the destiny they had just accepted.
"It seems we really are a package deal now, Mr. Swordsman," Aerith said softly. "You are my sword, and I am your heart. If you are hurt... I feel it."
Johnny stared at the wound on Aerith's hand with pure terror.
In his old life, he was accustomed to letting his body be destroyed for the sake of victory. He didn't care about broken bones or torn flesh. But now? If he was reckless, this holy girl would bear the pain.
Johnny's face hardened. His gaze shifted into absolute resolve.
"In that case..." Johnny reached out and took Aerith's hand, wiping the drop of blood away with a thumb that trembled with guilt and a new oath of loyalty.
"I cannot promise this body will never be scratched. But the pain... I will crush it down to nothing. No matter how deep the wound, it will feel like nothing at all. For your sake.""
Under the green glow of Sector 5, the Bond was locked. Godlike power, bought at the price of human vulnerability.