After that day.
Veyl Academy Cafeteria
Storm clouds never looked this calm.
Shigeo Moto walked with his usual slouch one hand in his pocket, the other flicking a coin between his fingers. Lightning crackled faintly at his wrist, barely noticeable. His scarf flapped behind him like a loose afterthought, runes on his gloves pulsing in slow rhythm.
His expression?
Blank.
Half-lidded.
Quietly calculating behind those electric-blue eyes.
The mont he passed the courtyard, a voice chased him like a gust of wind.
"Shigeo! Where are you going!"
He didn't even turn.
The voice belonged to Saya Kurenai braided blonde hair, sharp bloom-poison eyes. Always loud when she wanted to be heard. Always trying to get under his skin.
"None of your business," he muttered over his shoulder.
"Go to Lira."
Saya puffed her cheeks in frustration.
"Hmph! You'll regret not bonding with ! Watch, I'm going to sis Lira now!"
Shigeo exhaled through his nose.
"Tch… what a complicated world."
He entered the cafeteria.
Buzzing voices. Chairs dragging. The scent of broth and grilled fish.
But his target was already in view.
Khael Corzedar.
Sitting across from Kaen Suro, munching like it was just another normal lunch break.
But nothing was normal anymore.
Not since the Thousand Way broke.
Not since he broke it.
Shigeo approached the table with slow, deliberate steps. Eyes on Khael. Mind flashing like lightning behind calm glass.
Khael looked up, blinked once, and raised an eyebrow.
"Pardon?"
Kaen, still chewing, gave a side glance at the stranger.
"What are you looking at?"
Shigeo didn't answer.
Just stared.
Silent. asuring.
Then Khael stood, placing his tray aside.
"Kaen… I'm going ahead."
"Huh? Where you going?"
"This guy needs to talk to ."
Kaen narrowed his eyes at Shigeo for a second, then shrugged.
"Alright. Don't die."
They stepped out of the cafeteria down the stone hallway, past a glowing glyph lamp, and out into the quiet garden courtyard.
Shigeo finally spoke.
His tone? Calm. Unapologetic. But direct.
"You broke it."
Khael tilted his head.
"Broke what?"
Shigeo's eyes narrowed slightly.
"The grid. The loop. My calculation web."
"…Oh. You an Thousand Way."
"No one breaks it. No one should break it."
Khael stayed silent. He let the wind settle before answering.
"Then maybe it's ti soone did."
Shigeo studied him.
Like he was peeling back layers of a code he couldn't yet debug.
"How?" he asked, voice softer now. Not angry. Not defensive.
Just curious.
Khael looked at him.
Long and steady.
"Legacy."
"That's not an answer."
"Exactly."
Shigeo looked away, a small flicker of emotion on his face—irritation, wonder, sothing in between.
"…What a complicated world," he muttered again.
"If you don't want to tell … fine."
His tone was flat, but there was sothing behind it.
A flicker of tension. Maybe curiosity. Maybe frustration.
Khael didn't flinch.
He just looked at him again, direct, steady, unshaken.
And said: "Then be my friend."
Shigeo blinked.
Once.
"…Friend?"
As if the word was so ancient code he hadn't heard in years.
Khael gave a slight grin.
"Exactly what I said.
Friend. Comrades. Soone I can rely on."
The wind rustled faintly between them.
Shigeo stared at him, like trying to run the numbers in his head again like he was checking if this was a trick, or a new algorithm, or so kind of test.
It wasn't.
Khael's expression didn't change.
Warm. Open.
Not fake.
Not manipulative.
Just real.
For a mont, Shigeo said nothing.
Then—
"…That's troubleso," he muttered.
But his voice had changed. Softer. Less guarded.
He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
"Tch. You're weird, you know that?"
Khael chuckled under his breath.
"I've been told."
Shigeo looked away, but the edge of a smile tugged at his lips.
….
anwhile, Deep Within Vernara…
The forest didn't speak.
But it rembered everything.
Far beyond the borders of the village, in the quiet heart of Vernara's wildlands, mist floated low across the ground. The trees stood tall and silent, their bark glowing faintly with Shinrei threads signs of lingering Echo energy.
Sowhere between the roots and the shadows, sothing moved.
A young scout ran, gasping for air, branches tearing at his sleeves. Blood not his own streaked across his arm. Behind him, an Echo Beast stalked through the fog: once a deer, now misshapen, twisted by corrupted emotions. Antlers like broken branches, body pulsing with dark veins, eyes burning a sick violet.
The scout slipped on wet moss. He fell, rolled, scrambled back to his feet.
He wouldn't make it to the village in ti.
But then… the air changed.
Not colder. Not hotter.
Just… softer.
The beast froze. Sniffed.
The scout blinked through his panic. Was that… a flower?
Yes.
The grass around him was blooming even though it wasn't spring
A slow wave of petals rolled across the ground. From behind a veil of vines, she appeared.
A girl no older than him walked calmly into the clearing. She wore layered robes of green and ash-gray, her sleeves shaped like falling leaves. Her hair was tied with a vine-knot, her steps silent. A strange blade hung on her back, curved like a flower stem.
She didn't look scared. Or angry.
Just… still.
The scout tried to speak. "I— it followed — I didn't—"
She raised a hand.
No words.
Just a single bloom of pale violet light, floating from her palm.
The flower drifted toward the beast. It paused. Confused.
Then it attacked.
One flash.
SHHHK.
A clean arc.
The Echo Beast dropped without a sound. Its body crumbled into mist, petals scattering across the ground. Not even a leaf was disturbed.
The scout could only stare.
She turned to him. Her voice was quiet more like a whisper carried by the wind.
"Tell the Elders… another sorrow has blood."
And then she walked back into the trees.
The forest closed behind her.
The flowers wilted.
And the silence returned.
…
anwhile He stood at the edge of the cliff, staring down at Vernara, the peaceful village of Verdyn. Below, lanterns glowed like fireflies, lighting up the forest that once welcod him.
But he no longer felt its warmth.
Only the pain it left behind.
His crimson-amber eyes glowed faintly, with floral-shaped pupils that seed to flicker like burning petals. A vine-shaped scar ran down his left cheek, a mark left by the Elders, a reminder of the Ritual.
The wind blew through his maroon hair, fading into rose at the tips. A small braid on the left side held a burned pink flower, tied with a black ribbon. His dark, sleeveless robe clung to his fra, stitched with faded vine designs. A torn crimson half-cloak fluttered at his back, the Bloom Clan's symbol scratched out and nearly gone.
Once, he wore his traditions with pride. Now, they felt like a burden.
His arms were wrapped in sharp vine-like tal gauntlets, made from anger, not honor. His legs wore mismatched armor, petals now dirty and dull with age.
He lifted a trembling, calloused hand and pointed at the glowing village.
"I will destroy the village." he said quietly, but firmly.
To be continue
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