The monastery's dining hall glowed beneath rows of softly lit lanterns, their warm light reflecting off sliding paper walls painted with sweeping brushstrokes of dragons and rolling waves. The room felt lived-in, peaceful—steeped in tradition.
The scent of rice, grilled fish, and miso drifted through the air, comforting and familiar.
Levi sat cross-legged at a low table, eating quickly but not wildly. Bowl after bowl disappeared into his hands, his focus fixed on the meal as though he hadn't realized just how hungry he was until now.
The door slid open with a quiet sound.
Nury entered.
She looked nothing like the commander from the battlefield. Instead, she wore a sharp, schoolgirl-inspired outfit—a red suit jacket, black bow tie, black skirt, black gloves and high black boots. She paused at the entrance, removing her boots before stepping onto the tatami.
Her footsteps were soft as she crossed the room, unhurried and composed. Though she said nothing, her presence naturally drew attention—not heavy, not threatening, just unmistakable.
Levi slowed his eating slightly.
He knew she was there.
Nury: "Shouldn't you be resting?"
Levi (mouth full): "I was starvin'…"
He spoke between gulps, grains of rice spilling from the corner of his lips.
Nury lowered herself beside him, kneeling with practiced grace. Her eyes lingered briefly on the way he sat—legs crossed instead of the formal kneel.
A foreigner's posture.
Her expression didn't change.
Levi swallowed, his tone sobering.
Levi: "So what's next?"
Nury: "Training."
She paused, letting the word settle.
Nury: "A blade must be wielded to cut through anything—even steel. You may feel like you can do that now."
(She turned, meeting his gaze directly)
"But if you're careless… your blade will shatter."
Levi's expression twitched.
A memory surfaced unbidden—Hope.
That overwhelming pressure during the battle with Triumphant. The suffocating certainty. The realization that his Destruction meant nothing in the face of that power.
His hand froze mid-air, fork hovering above the bowl.
He didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
Nury saw it in his eyes.
Levi :"When do I start?"
Nury stood up
She turned, her feet clicking softly on the floor.
Nury:"Follow me."
They crossed the quiet courtyard. The moon was high, glinting on tiled rooftops. Levi's fists stayed stuffed in his pockets, his eyes darting around the elegant monastery grounds.
Nury: "There's no denying your power is lethal. That's why you stand as a Blade now."
(She let the compliment linger for only a breath)
"But you lack discipline. Without it, you'll never rise beyond what you are."
(She leaned in slightly, her gaze fixing on his—sharp, unyielding)
"Forge yourself into the ultimate weapon…"
(She stopped. The pause was deliberate. Then, quietly—)
"…if you truly want to be the worst one."
The words struck deeper than any blow.
Levi's fist tightened, nails biting into his palm. Rage coiled beneath his skin—but beneath it, something colder, heavier.
Reality.
Understanding that she was right.
They entered a chamber unlike any other in the monastery.
Sliding doors parted to reveal humming machinery.
This was the control room—rows of holo-screens, floating keyboards, and agents stationed at every console. Streams of galactic data cascaded across the displays: planets, weapons, enemy factions, Demons, Fighters. Cold efficiency clashed violently with the monastery's sacred halls.
Levi's eyes widened.
Nury: "This is the heart of the clan. Where we gather intelligence across the galaxy—anything that can be of use to us."
Levi scanned the room.
Dozens of eyes turned toward him. Some burned with anger. Others with fear. A few carried something closer to respect.
He said nothing. Just grinned.
A sudden shift on the main screen caught his attention.
A figure appeared—colossal in stature.
Levi: "…Rumbler?"
Nury: "Yes. He's our next mission."
Levi frowned.
Levi: "Didn't you already capture him?"
Nury: "We did. He's being held deep within the monastery. But he's part of a deal we've made with another faction from Nitchtron—the Ancients."
The screen changed, displaying a hostile planet—jagged terrain bathed in volcanic storms.
Levi: "What kind of deal?"
Nury: "Rumbler is a Tier A Seraphim, a wielder of gravity itself. The Ancients believe that if they modify his brain—strip his will, make him obedient—and bind him with their artifact…"
(She paused, letting the implication settle)
"…he'll gain power capable of rivaling the Archangels."
The room fell silent at her final words. Even the steady hum of the machines seemed to fade, as if the control room itself was holding its breath.
Levi's eyes narrowed.
Levi: "…Hope."
Nury gave a single, deliberate nod.
Levi: "Can't you just do it here?"
Nury: "In an ideal world, yes. But Earth's technology isn't capable of that level of transformation."
Levi clicked his tongue.
Levi: "So are we supposed to deliver him?"
Before Nury could respond, the heavy doors slid open with a low mechanical hiss.
A man entered.
Skin pale as frost. A thin frame draped in a black long-sleeve shirt and a purple tie, gray hakama-style pants, and traditional samurai sandals. His long hair—white as snow—fell in loose strands around hollow, sleepless eyes marked by deep dark circles.
His presence was chilling. Quiet. Like a blade slipping free of its sheath.
The room stiffened instantly. Fingers froze over keys. Agents stopped typing.
Even Levi tilted his head slightly, curiosity flickering across his face.
Man:"Hey there, what are two love-birds doing here?"
(His voice is calm, lighthearted, almost playful)
Nury didn't look at him.
Nury: "Same to you, Nero?"
(Her tone is cold enough to drop the room's temperature)
The man—Nero—doesn't answer her directly. Instead, his gaze drifts lazily across the agents. None dare look up. Fingers keep typing, shoulders tense.
Levi: "Who is this guy?"
His voice cuts through the air, wary and stern.
Nero chuckled softly and dipped his head in exaggerated courtesy.
Nero: "Oh—where are my manners?"
He stepped forward and extended a hand toward Levi, his smile widening just enough to feel wrong.
Nero: "Nero Shiro. Sixth Blade of the clan. It's an honor to finally meet you, Levi."
Every instinct in Levi screamed at him. He stared at the outstretched hand, muscles coiled, then finally took it.
The handshake lingered a second too long.
A chill crept up Levi's arm, crawling beneath his skin
Nero tilted his head, amused.
Nero: "What's wrong? I thought this was how foreigners greet each other."
His tone was playful. His eyes were anything but.
Levi forced a grin, masking his unease.
Nury interrupts, voice like steel.
Nury: "You still haven't answered my question."
Nero releases Levi's hand and raises both palms in mock surrender.
Nero:"Relax. It looks like you've already started discussing it."
Her glare didn't waver.
Nury:"You're not part of this mission."
Nero laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.
Nero:"Wow, wow, easy with those eyes, Miss Golden Blaze. I ain't trying to get scorched."
(The chuckle fades, his expression sharpening)
"You're right. I'm not part of this mission. But I am part of one that must take place before yours."
Levi:"What are you talking about?"
Nero steps closer, his shadow stretching across the floor.
Nero:"We must retrieve the artifact and deliver it alongside Rumbler."
Nury blinks, taken aback.
Nury: "Why would we need to retrieve it? Don't they have more?"
Nero's smirk fades, his tone dropping low.
Nero:"According to the Shogun, the one they gave us—the one you tested with that failure named Crusher—was their only successful prototype on humans."
(His gaze hardens)
"That's why we're retrieving it. Without it, the next phase can't proceed."
Nury's lips press into a thin line.
Nury:"Strange. I wasn't informed of this."
Nero tilts his head, eyes glinting.
Nero: "Oh? Does the mighty Golden Blaze always need to be briefed first?"
(He smiled thinly.)
"Or are you upset the Shogun didn't include you this time?"
Levi clenches his fists, glaring at Nero, but Nero only flashes a cold grin back, savoring the tension.
Finally, Nury breaks the silence.
Nury:"Where is the artifact now?"
(Her voice is steady, emotionless)
The tension thins. Nero gestures casually to one of the agents.
The man, visibly nervous, switches the feed on his monitor. A convoy appears on screen—armored trucks, steel containers, soldiers moving with precision. Inside, the artifact and the Crusher are being secured.
Levi squints at the footage.
Levi: "That's Sector Seven—the militia base. Where are they moving them?"
Nero's expression darkened, his voice shedding its earlier levity.
Nero: "You and the Crusher wiped out their powerhouses. With no Seraphim left to secure District 3, command pulled everything back."
Levi stiffened.
Levi: "Pulled back… where?"
Nero: "Sector Four."
Levi's eyes widened.
Levi: "That's still 7th District… which means—"
Nero cut in flatly.
Nero: "War. Tier B Seraphim. He's the nail in our tire."
The name settled over the room like a brewing storm.
Nury exhaled slowly, already calculating.
Nury: "When do we deploy?"
Nero: "The Shogun wants us back in New Breedom in two weeks."
Her gaze shifted to Levi.
Nury: "That gives you enough time to prepare."
Nero's brow furrowed.
Nero: "You're not seriously planning to send your lapdog along—"
Nury cut him off without hesitation.
Nury: "Yes. I am."
(She turned fully toward him, her tone unyielding)
"This mission will show us exactly what he's capable of."
Nero studied Levi for a moment, then smirked—amused, but unconvinced.
Nero: "Heh. If you insist."
(He straightened, slipping his hands into his pockets)
"Then it's settled. The Sixth and Seventh Battalions will execute the extraction together."
(He turned and headed for the exit, waving lazily over his shoulder)
"Better start getting ready, Levi. This isn't a stroll through the park."
The door hissed shut behind him.
Silence reclaimed the room.
Only the low hum of the holo-screens remained—steady, mechanical, buzzing beneath the skin like static before a storm.
The Shogun's Chamber.
The Shogun sits unmoving on his dais, cloaked in shadows, his mask unreadable. Around him, the Five Elders kneel, each hidden behind their masks, their voices the only sound that cuts the silence.
Elder One:"Are you certain about him, Lord?"
(His voice trembles slightly, directed at the Shogun)
Elder Four (snapping): "How dare you question the Shogun's will! If he chose that boy, there must be reason enough."
Elder Three:"I do not wish to doubt our Lord either… but I admit I share the concern. That boy is unpredictable."
Elder Two (calm, measured): "There is no need to let worry cloud our judgment. We shall see how this plays out. We must trust in our Shogun."
Elder Five (hesitant, uneasy): "Yet this is the first time in history that a foreigner has been chosen as a Blade of the Red Moon. And not just any foreigner—one with such immense, destructive power… If he were ever to turn against us—"
Elder Four (cutting in coldly): "If he turns against us… then we will deal with him."
The hall falls into heavy silence. No one else dares to speak. All eyes turned toward the Shogun, waiting.
But he said nothing.
His silence is more commanding than any decree—leaving only uncertainty, and the weight of his unseen thoughts.
The lantern flames flicker. The silence deepens.
The Next Morning — Levi's Quarters
The room is quiet save for the soft snore of Levi sprawled across his futon, half the blanket kicked away. Dust motes drift lazily through the pale morning light seeping in through the paper door.
Then the silence explodes.
Girl (bursting in): "GOOD MORNING, SIR!!!"
Levi jolts upright, fists clenched on instinct, eyes bleary and unfocused.
Levi (groggy): "Wha—?!"
He rubs his eyes hard, squinting toward the doorway.
A towering figure stands there—a woman at least 6'3, her short, wavy hair a bubblegum pink that nearly glows in the sunlight. Her wide eyes, the same vivid pink, shimmer with boundless energy. Dressed in a crisp black samue, she beams as if she personally dragged the sun into the room.
Levi (half-asleep, baffled): "Uh… who the hell are you?"
The woman snaps to attention.
Shiba: "My name is Shiba, sir!"
She bows so sharply it looks like her forehead might crack the floor.
Levi winces, rubbing his temple.
Levi: "Ugh… I can hear you just fine. You don't have to be so damn loud."
Shiba straightens instantly, panic flooding her face.
Shiba: "UHHH—I'M SORRY, SIR!! I DIDN'T MEAN TO BE SO LOUD! I'M SO SORRY!!!"
Levi raises a hand, stopping her mid-spiral.
Levi: "Okay—okay. Enough. What do you want? And what's with the 'sir' thing?"
Shiba snaps into a salute, voice booming once more.
Shiba: "We're here to properly greet you, sir! We are the Seventh Battalion! At your service! It is my greatest honor to serve under you, sir!"
Levi frowns.
Levi: "We?"
He drags himself to the door and slides it open fully.
His eyes widen.
Outside, nearly fifty warriors stand in perfect formation. The moment Levi steps into view, they bow in unison—precise, synchronized, absolute.
The courtyard echoes with a single thunderous voice:
"GOOD MORNING, CAPTAIN!"
Levi freezes.
For a moment, he just stares—speechless, hair a mess, blanket still draped over one shoulder.
Slowly… a crooked grin begins to form.
Levi (thinking): "They're all mine?"
He steps further into the courtyard, and the mood shifts—subtle, but real. A pressure settles in the air, faint and unseen.
At the front row stands a boy with silver hair and sharp blue eyes. He trembles as he holds attention—posture flawless, discipline drilled deep—but his legs shake slightly. His gaze keeps flicking toward Levi, nervous, measuring.
Hiro (voice cracking): "G-good morning, Captain Levi, sir!"
Levi tilts his head, studying him a second longer than necessary. The kid looks like he's about to collapse.
Levi (smirking):"Relax before you pass out, shaky."
A few warriors release shallow breaths they didn't realize they were holding. Hiro stiffens instantly, face burning red, forcing his legs still through sheer will.
Then—without warning—two voices cut through the tension:
Yama Twins: "GOOD MORNING, BOSS!"
From the middle row, a pair of short siblings—a boy and a girl, mirror images with messy blue hair and mischievous black eyes—wave wildly instead of bowing.
Levi raises an eyebrow, gaze flicking to them.
Levi: "…The hell?"
Yama Girl (grinning): "We're the Yamas! And we're honored to have you as our new boss!"
Yama Boy (leaning forward with a smirk): "Don't worry—we'll make you look good out there!"
A ripple of laughter threatens to break formation—but it dies halfway, as if something unseen presses down. Levi chuckles softly, the sound easy… yet edged.
Behind them stands a towering man with broad shoulders, tanned skin, white hair slicked back loosely, and golden eyes half-lidded in calm detachment. His presence is different—anchored, immovable.
Togo gives a single nod.
Togo: "Morning."
Just one word. No fear. No bravado.
Levi meets his gaze, the grin on his face barely changing. Something unspoken passes between them.
Levi (thinking): "This one's solid. He won't break easy."
Shiba steps forward, snapping the moment clean in half.
Shiba (beaming): "I have a message for you, sir! The Fifth Blade requests your presence outside the monastery—at the top of the mountain! Miss Nury said it was urgent. Very serious. Stone-cold!"
Levi exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. His smile fades—just a fraction.
Levi (low): "Figures."
He turns toward the mountain path, then pauses.
Without looking back, he speaks—voice casual, weight unmistakable.
Levi: "Stay sharp while I'm gone."
The battalion straightens as one, spines stiff, instincts screaming louder than orders.
Levi walks on. His footsteps echo softly up the path, carrying something with them—
a promise, or a warning.
And high above, the mountain waits.
The Mountain Peak
Levi finally crests the summit, chest heaving as he stumbles onto solid ground. Sweat clings to his skin, cooling instantly in the biting morning air. The climb has wrung him dry—legs leaden, lungs burning from the thin oxygen.
The peak is swallowed in dense white fog. Beyond it, the horizon burns softly with dawn. Sunlight spills across the clouds below like a vast golden sea, the distant city flickering faintly through breaks in the mist. Up here, the world feels unreal—small, far away, irrelevant.
At the center of the summit, framed by frost-dusted pines, Nury waits.
Her posture is immaculate. Arms folded behind her back. Unmoving.
Nury (flatly): "You took longer than expected."
Levi bends forward, hands on his knees, breath tearing out of him in thick plumes of vapor.
Levi: "Yeah—well… screw you."
He straightens, wiping sweat from his brow, eyes drifting despite himself toward the glowing sky above the clouds. For a brief moment, even he's caught by it.
Levi: "So… why'd you drag me all the way up here?"
Nury steps forward. Her shadow cuts through the fog like a blade.
Nury: "This is where your training begins. What you do with it—whether you exceed expectations or fall short—is entirely on you."
Levi tilts his head, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Silence settles between them. Just one heartbeat.
Then—
Nury (quiet, precise): "He's here."
Levi's body locks up.
The air behind him presses in—dense, suffocating, heavier than the mountain itself. Instinct screams. The fine hairs along his neck rise.
Cold steel kisses the small of his back.
Levi (whipping around): "You—!"
He lashes out on reflex—but the presence is gone. No impact. No resistance.
A blur. A shift in the fog.
The figure reappears beside Nury, silent as thought itself. The mist parts just enough for the rising sun to catch long brown hair tied back neatly.
It's Kayo.
Levi's eyes widened, fury snapping through his exhaustion.
Levi: "What the hell?! I thought he was dead. Is this some kind of setup, Nury?!"
Nury doesn't flinch. Her expression remains unchanged, her voice calm as the morning wind slipping through the fog.
Nury: "He was… nearly dead. We brought him back."
(She turns her gaze slightly toward Kayo, then back to Levi)
"Kayo is an asset—just as you are. Years of preparation went into forging him into a Blade. Did you truly believe we would discard him so easily?"
Levi clenches his teeth, anger grinding against reluctant understanding. His pride bristles, but the weight of her words roots him in place.
Kayo's voice cuts in, dry and sharp.
Kayo: "Looks like you're not completely empty-headed after all."
Levi snaps back instantly.
Levi: "Shut the hell up. Don't forget—I already kicked the crap outta you."
Their gazes lock, tension coiling tight as fog drifts between them like smoke from a dying fire.
Levi jerks his chin toward Kayo.
Levi: "So why's he here, then?"
Nury answers without hesitation.
Nury: "Because he's training you."
Levi blinks.
Levi: "What? No way. I basically killed him. What use could he possibly be to me?"
Her eyes sharpen—each word precise, deliberate.
Nury: "Knowledge is not bound by victory. Even a man defeated in battle carries lessons."
She steps closer, her presence pressing down on him.
Nury: "You defeated Kayo once. But had he chosen differently moments ago… you would have been dead within seconds."
(Levi's jaw tightens. The truth cuts deeper than any blade)
"There are countless things you still don't understand. Kayo will teach you—not merely how to fight, but how to survive as a Blade."
Kayo steps forward. Gone is the arrogance. His voice is steady, restrained.
Kayo: "I won't deny it—I'm still bitter about losing my place to you."
(He meets Levi's eyes head-on)
"I don't acknowledge you as one of us."
Then he bows deeply, fog curling around him as the sun rises higher.
"But I made a promise. To this clan. And to Miss Nury."
(He straightens)
"If this is what it takes, I will serve under you. I will be your lieutenant."
Levi stares at him, genuinely caught off guard. Then a crooked grin creeps across his face.
Levi: "Tch… you really gotta be that formal?"
(He exhales, shaking his head)
"Fine. I think I could use someone like you."
Nury gives a single nod—final, unquestionable.
Nury: "Prepare yourselves well."
She turns and walks into the fog. The morning light swallows her silhouette until even her footsteps fade away.
Left alone at the summit, Levi and Kayo stand beneath the rising sun—
Two rivals.
One path.