The apartment was quiet in a way that didn't feel safe.
Shattered floor tiles still lay scattered across the room, half-repaired but not forgotten. Fine petal-dust clung to the corners of the walls like residue from a dream that hadn't fully faded. The window remained open, the sea wind pulling gently at the curtains as if testing whether the room was still real.
A single glowing petal drifted through the air.
It brushed against Rina's cheek.
Her eyes fluttered open.
For just a fraction of a second, the light caught her irises—and something fractured inside them. Six colors shimmered beneath the surface before fading away, leaving her staring at the ceiling in silence.
"…Ren?" she whispered.
Ren was already awake.
He stood in the kitchen, carefully repairing a broken shelf, anchoring the wood with impossibly thin silver threads before setting it back into place. His movements were precise. Measured. He hadn't spoken since morning light touched the walls.
Kai, meanwhile, was sprawled across the floor with a pillow he definitely hadn't brought with him, pretending very poorly that he hadn't slept there.
Azen was gone.
Ren turned as soon as he sensed Rina stir.
Their eyes met.
No dramatic exchange followed. No panic. Just the quiet understanding they'd shared since childhood.
"You okay?" Ren asked.
Rina nodded, still wrapped in her blanket.
"Did… did everything really happen?"
Ren handed her a cup of warm petal tea.
"Yes."
Kai sat up, hair sticking in every direction.
"You threw a grown man through a wall," he said proudly. "It was glorious."
Rina shrank back into the blanket, mortified.
"I didn't mean to—"
"Doesn't matter," Ren interrupted calmly. "You stopped him."
Kai grinned. "And I'd pay money to see you do it again."
Ren shot him a look.
Kai raised his hands in surrender, still smiling.
Rina sipped her tea, her eyes drifting to the staff beside her. The bells rang softly on their own.
Something inside her had awakened.
And it wasn't going back to sleep.
The walk to the Colosseum was louder than usual.
Stone bridges curved over the sea, banners of coral-blue and sea-gold fluttering overhead. Trainees, merchants, aura theorists, and eager spectators filled the pathways, voices overlapping in excitement.
And whispers followed them.
"Those kids caused a breach last night—"
"No, the girl awakened—"
"The boy with silver eyes fought someone from the Shadow Hall—"
Ren ignored it.
Rina stayed close to him.
Kai waved at anyone who looked their way like he was already famous.
The Pre-Trials Registration Hall was massive.
Silver stone walls stretched upward, carved with the symbols of the five Rings. Floating light orbs drifted through the air, illuminating lines of hopeful fighters.
A hovering crystal projected the rules:
Pre-Trials Regulations
• No lethal force
• Stable aura only
• Ring interference equals immediate disqualification
• No familiars inside the scanning chamber
Kai leaned toward Ren. "Bet you a candy fruit Rina breaks one of those rules just by existing."
Rina slapped his arm.
The official at the desk looked tired. Until Ren stepped forward.
"Name and aura type?"
"Ren Azurae. Neutral-tether. Micro-thread class."
The official froze.
"…Micro-threads? At your age?"
He recovered quickly and wrote it down.
Kai stepped up next, grinning. "Kai. Just Kai. Dual aura alignment. Chain manifestation."
The pen paused mid-air.
"Who's your sponsor?"
Kai smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Ren elbowed him.
Rina stepped forward last.
"Rina Azurae," she said softly. "Petal-tide user. Staff-class conduit."
The official's hand trembled.
"You three are flagged for Tier-Three observation," he said quickly. "Do not escalate your aura."
Kai whispered, "We're famous."
The Resonance Chamber was circular, its walls lined with rotating runes. A crystal orb hovered in the center.
One by one, fighters stepped in.
When it was Rina's turn, the room dimmed.
The runes flickered.
The orb spun violently.
"Warning," it intoned. "Unstable variable detected. Pattern unknown. Pattern un—"
The crystal shattered.
Petal-light burst outward, harmless but breathtaking.
Rina stood frozen.
"I didn't do anything," she whispered.
Ren was beside her instantly.
"Doesn't matter. Let's go."
A registrar rushed forward—then stopped.
A hand rested on his shoulder.
Azen stood there, having arrived without sound.
"I'll take responsibility," he said.
The registrar bowed and retreated.
Kai stared. "Does he teleport?"
"No," Azen replied calmly. "I walk faster than you think."
The training fields stretched across open platforms above the sea, connected by glowing bridges of aura. Fighters practiced everywhere—staff users, chain specialists, weaponless combatants.
Azen led them to an empty platform.
"Pre-Trials aren't about power," he said. "They're about resonance. Your ability to answer the Rings."
He gestured to the distant First Ring hanging over the water.
"That awakening wasn't an accident, Rina."
Then he turned to Ren.
"And neither was your control."
Ren blinked.
"You anchored her aura when she should have torn the room apart," Azen continued. "Micro-threads don't exist by chance."
Kai raised his hand. "And me?"
Azen didn't hesitate.
"You are chaos given legs."
Kai beamed.
Ren trained first.
Threads spread from his fingers, anchoring stone, air, even the sea below. Two trainees rushed him.
He moved once.
Both fell.
Rina clapped softly.
Kai whistled.
Rina trained next.
Petals rose from the water, forming shields and spirals—then collapsing when her focus slipped.
Again.
And again.
Azen's voice softened. "You're not weak. You're new."
Kai's chains came last—fluid, fast, unnecessary flips included.
"Stop enjoying yourself so loudly," Azen muttered.
That afternoon, a tower crystal pulsed.
"Pre-Trials commence in one day."
Rina tightened her grip on her staff.
Kai vibrated with excitement.
Ren calculated.
Azen tapped Ren's chest lightly. "Stop holding back."
That night, Rina dreamed of standing on the ocean.
Petals drifted.
The Rings burned bright.
A figure stood across the water.
"Awaken again, little bloom."
She woke gasping.
Ren and Kai were already there.
Outside, the Rings pulsed once more.
Calling.