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Chapter Four: In the Eye of the Storm
The sun was setting behind the walls of Peace Orphanage, casting long shadows across the worn, dusty courtyard. The air carried the scent of fresh bread from the kitchen, mingled with a faint saltiness from the nearby sea. Shinji returned carrying two heavy plates of food—crispy bread slices drizzled with wild honey and fresh fruit gathered from the orphanage garden. His heavy footsteps echoed on the dry ground, but he stopped abruptly when he saw his friend Anryu standing in the center of the yard, staring at the ground with hollow eyes. The signs of shock were written all over his face: extreme paleness, cold sweat on his forehead, and trembling hands. It was as if an invisible fire was raging deep within his soul, consuming everything from the inside.
Shinji (worriedly, setting the plates aside): "Anryu! I brought the food you asked for. What happened? You look... completely different, like someone who just escaped a nightmare."
Anryu turned very slowly, as if his body was resisting the movement. His eyes were wide open, reflecting a strange shock that combined terror and rage. He swallowed hard, then began to speak in a fragmented voice, each word coming out like a blow: "I was walking down that side path... the one overgrown with wild weeds. Suddenly, this mysterious man appeared out of nowhere. His face was hidden under a long black hat, and his eyes... his eyes were like those of a hungry wolf. He raised his hand, and a glowing red Riza shot out like a thin thread, a swift arrow that pierced the little boy's head in the blink of an eye. Blood spilled onto the ground, and the child fell like a broken doll. Then, that man looked at me and said in a voice as cold as a winter wind: 'I will leave you alive for your audacity.' I ran, but his voice is still ringing in my ears."
Shinji (staring deeply into Anryu's eyes, grabbing his shoulder firmly): "This... this is much bigger than us, Anryu. It's not just an accident. That man is a professional killer, and red Riza like that isn't common. We can't stay silent; it will happen again. We must tell the Orphanage Director immediately, before the sun sets completely."
Anryu nodded silently, but his mind was racing. He suddenly remembered his grandfather, who used to tell him stories about the world of Riza before he died, but always stopped at the boundaries, never revealing the full details. "Grandfather knew everything; why didn't he tell me?" he thought to himself.
They left the food cold on the ground and hurried toward the Director's office in the back wing. The office was a small, cramped room with ancient wooden walls covered in a thin layer of dust, and an old desk piled with scattered papers and old photos of former children. The Director—a man in his forties with a short grey beard and eyes that reflected years of worry—listened to the story in total silence, his hands clasped in front of him. When Anryu finished, he let out a deep, heavy sigh, as if carrying the weight of the entire city.
The Director (in a calm but heavy voice): "What happened is very grave, my boy. This isn't just an ordinary killer; that red Riza points to something much larger. I will inform one of the Commanders of this matter immediately. We cannot face this danger alone; this orphanage is not a fortress."
Anryu (curiously, stepping forward): "And who exactly are the Commanders? I've heard the older kids talk about them, but no one ever explained."
The Director (with a weary smile): "Every city has a Commander who protects it—an unofficial leader with assistants like police, but the Commanders possess advanced Riza abilities. They are the barrier between chaos and order in these dimensions."
The Director wasted no time. He picked up an old communication device, shaped like a metal watch, and contacted one of the Commanders: "There has been a horrific murder. The killer took the body and left, and the children are terrified. Come to Peace Orphanage at once."
Minutes later, Commander Regin arrived. He was a tall man, muscles bulging under a black coat, with a faint blue Riza shimmering on his arm. He entered the office with confident strides, scanning the room with sharp eyes.
Regin: "What happened exactly? Tell me everything."
The Director (repeating the story accurately): "As I told you, a young child was murdered by a red Riza arrow. The witness here is Anryu."
Regin (looking at Anryu with admiration): "You're brave, kid. Alright, we will take the necessary measures. We'll investigate the crime scene now—those weeds will tell their story."
They all went out to the side path. Regin stood at the scene, sweeping the ground with his hand glowing with blue Riza, revealing faint blood traces and strange scratches. "The killer is a pro, but he will face his punishment." Afterward, he ordered his assistants to set up extra security around the walls: guards armed with White Riza and temporary watchtowers.
The Director (anxious): "I want heavy protection on the orphanage, especially for the children."
Regin (confidently): "Didn't I tell you we would take the necessary measures? Don't worry, tonight will be safe."
When they were finished, a thick night had fallen, and the stars sparkled over the city. Everyone returned to their beds, but sleep remained distant.
The Orphanage Director was preoccupied with Anryu more than ever. He sat on his bed in his private room, staring at the cracked ceiling. "This child is uncannily intelligent. Even though the news about his past was shocking and sudden, he grasped it with incredible speed. If I were in his place, a few questions wouldn't have been enough; I would have asked dozens: Who is that man? Why this child specifically? What is the link between them?" He sighed, realizing that Anryu was stronger than he appeared.
As for Anryu, his mind was filled with thoughts of the murdered child. He lay on his thin mattress, listening to the faint sounds of the other children in the adjacent rooms. "I must become stronger to avenge him, so that I don't lose anyone else like I lost my grandfather. But first, I must understand these Ten Dimensions. This world is vast and full of secrets, but I will strive. Shinji and I will think for ourselves and build a powerful future."
In the next room, Shinji was reflecting on himself and his peculiar personality. "My friendship with Anryu will be strong; this is what I've been waiting for all along. But why am I so strange? I don't think as much as others do; I hear and I act immediately. When people listen to a conversation, they overthink, their minds get clouded, and they drift away. But when I hear a conversation, I focus 100% without any distraction. It's strange, but it's not a flaw—perhaps it's an advantage in this world of Riza."
The following morning, as the sunrise bathed the courtyard in warm orange hues, Anryu accompanied Shinji to the Director's office once again. Anryu was burning with curiosity regarding the Ten Dimensions, his eyes gleaming with excitement mixed with resolve.
Anryu to the Director: "All these dangers... this strange world... my grandfather didn't tell me much about it, as if he was afraid. I want to understand everything. Tell me about it, please, in detail."
The Director looked at Anryu for a long moment, measuring his strength. He took a deep breath and began to explain in a calm, organized voice, as if reciting an ancient legend.
The Director: "Understand, my son, that this world is not as simple as you imagine. It is composed of ten overlapping dimensions, each like a layer in a giant cake. Each dimension has its own laws, its unique fighting style, and even its gravity is different. Every person must choose only one fighting style from the dimension they select. This is a fateful decision—you cannot change it later."
Anryu (leaning forward eagerly): "And the Riza? How exactly does it work here? I saw people in the streets using it normally."
The Director: "Riza here is primarily used for direct attack and defense. You can shape it into thin threads with simple tips for grabbing, or make them sharp like spinning blades for rapid attacks. For defense, you can turn it into solid shields like metal walls or flexible nets that absorb impact. But remember, this is only the basic usage, before awakening the true power that awaits the 'Z-Act'."
Anryu (surprised, raising an eyebrow): "But I saw people in the city markets who had Riza, yet they didn't use any special abilities! They were just carrying their goods."
The Director (laughing softly): "That is exactly right. The world is divided into two main halves: Owners of White Riza—making up 45% of the population—use it for direct attack and defense only, with no additions. They are the majority, like laborers and merchants. The other half are owners of Colored Riza; they possess powerful latent abilities, but these do not awaken until the execution of a 'Z-Act'—a heroic or painful deed that transforms the soul. These abilities are hereditary, passed down from either the father or the mother, but never both. In short: every dimension has a unique fighting style, and if you choose one, you will never be able to fight with another. There are many different dimensions and various types of Riza, such as Fire or Shadow, but this specific dimension contains these two main halves."
Shinji to Anryu (astonished, clapping his hand into his palm): "This world sounds incredible! I thought there was only our dimension, or rather, that we were just here without any other hidden dimensions. But the big question is: what is our future? How will we define it in chaos like this?"
Anryu (smiling confidently): "I have already planned all of that. When we go to sleep tonight, I will tell you every detail in secret."
The Closing Scene:
After the atmosphere had seemingly calmed and the guards were patrolling the walls, the Director sat in his completely dark office. The only light came from his communication device, which resembled a small glowing blue crystal. His hands trembled slightly as he stared at it, then he pressed the button and made a call.
The Director (in a low but firm voice, full of suppressed rage): "Did we not agree clearly from the beginning? We agreed not to harm the children again, regardless of the orders!"
The Voice on the other side (cold and mocking, echoing in the room like a cave's resonance): "It is an order from the Leader himself. Do not interfere in this matter; you know the consequences."
The Director (protesting loudly, jumping from his chair): "He is still an innocent child! Our agreement still stands; we signed it with our blood!"
The Other Voice (with cynical opportunism): "Agreements are broken when the Leader's orders appear. Sleep well."
The call ended abruptly, leaving the Director in a deadly silence, wiping away his sweat. He carried a heavy burden, knowing that this might be the start of a storm they could never withstand. He hesitated for a moment, then called the Leader directly, his voice trembling: "Leader, did we not agree that you would not kill any more children? This violates everything!"
The Leader (a long silence lasting for minutes, followed by a deep, cold voice): "......"
The Director was struck as if a bolt of lightning had hit his heart. He said in a broken voice: "What? This can only mean one thing... total betrayal."
End of Chapter Four