"Ouch that hurt. I should be resistant to light shock attacks, but then there's you. Who are you? Seen you somewhere."
Anyway, bigger fish to fry. Explosion.
He leaves in a flash.
VEYRA: "We should check that out."
Both of them rush to the location.
They rush to the church. Find Raiji laid out cold. Kiro badly injured.
VEYRA: "What happened here?"
Aurora: "Must have picked a fight with the church. They're stronger than average."
VEYRA checks on Kiro. Aurora checks on Raiji.
Lazy Plumber comes to check the explosion.
"What happened here? You two are they with you? I know a guy. A doc. They can be fixed up there."
The church is in rubble. Only the cross remains.
BACK TO PRESENT
Bubble of healing tank pops.
Aurora walks in.
She looks tired. Not from lack of sleep from watching. Two tanks. Two men she barely knows but already trusts. That's heavier than sleep deprivation.
"He's in recovery," she says, nodding toward Raiji's tank. "Wants to get out, but not yet. I told him he's still healing." A pause. "So he had a brave idea. 'Mental training.' Whatever that is."
Her fingers tap the gauntlet. Nervous habit.
Kiro: "So I can't get out either?"
His voice echoes through the glass. Muffled. Mechanical.
Veyra: "No way." She doesn't look up from her tablet, but her jaw is tight. "Your arm isn't even fully healed. Stitching's still green. And you've got ribs that look like a dropped puzzle. You're not going anywhere."
Kiro: "Next best thing, then. Mental training too."
Aurora: "What is this 'mental training'?"
Veyra: "It's a type of shadow boxing." She finally looks up. "Don't know much about it. Old technique. Fighters use it when their bodies fail them."
Kiro: "It's in the mind. I pick fights in my head strong guys I've fought before. Run the simulations. Train that way." He shifts in the tank. The metal armor on his arm catches the light. "Long time since I did it. And right now?" A grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "I kinda need it."
Aurora: "So... you imagine yourself training, and you get stronger?" She tilts her head. Genuinely skeptical. "I don't believe it. Even if I saw it."
Kiro's bubble ripples.
He moves his arm the reattached one. The metal plates grind. His jaw tightens. Then he cracks it. A deliberate twist. The armor shifts. The bones settle.
Kiro: "Not stronger," he says, exhaling. "More like... more skillful. And other things." His eyes close. "Now let me focus."
Veyra and Aurora exchange a glance.
They stay anyway. Watchers in a quiet room.
Kiro's thoughts — The Dark Void
"Who to start with?"
The void takes shape. Familiar. Formless until he wills it.
"Okay. Dark void first. Warm up."
He breathes. The air tastes like nothing. Like potential.
"Veyra's brother. King Croc. Perfect. I had trouble with him last time."
The shape builds. Muscle. Scale. Height.
"Should be easy this time. Restrict myself. Only grapple moves. No strikes. No lightning."
"Okay, big guy"
Twenty feet. Too much.
Ten feet. Just right.
"Half man. Half crocodile."
The details fill in. Scales along the shoulders. Eyes like amber slits. A tail that drags sand.
"Some parts are still shadow. That's fine."
He adds color. Green. A personality to match.
"There he is."
King Croc: "I told you don't flirt with my sister."
His voice is gravel. Low and rumbling.
Kiro: "Wrong one."
He frowns inside the void.
"Let me fix that."
He adjusts the memory. The posture. The threat level.
King Croc: "I will crush you this time in our rematch."
He dashes.
Fast. Faster than something his size should be.
But Kiro is already moving.
Duck.
The claws pass over his head.
Dash to the back.
He feels the tail whip past his ribs—close.
Grab the hips.
Solid. Real enough in his mind.
Suplex.
The world flips. Croc's back hits the ground.
Sand erupts.
Kiro: "Let's see. That shouldn't damage him. But the ground is sand."
A pause.
"Minor annoyance."
Somewhere in the void imaginary? instinctive? fans cheer.
He doesn't acknowledge them.
He just dashes backward.
Creates space.
Waits for the next move.
Kiro watches King Croc rush at him again.
Deafening speed. Ground-shaking power.
First punch Kiro weaves out of the way. The wind from the blow alone stings his face.
Second punch an uppercut.
Kiro jumps.
Uses the force of the punch to launch himself into the air. Flips over Croc's head.
Suplex.
Again.
Two times. Back to back. The sand explodes on each impact.
Then Kiro throws him—actually throws him—into the air.
King Croc lands hard on the ground. Groans. Doesn't get up immediately.
Kiro's thoughts:
"That's it. Deflecting his blows will work somehow. Thanks, fake King Croc. You're useful after all."
Kiro opens his eyes.
The healing tank hums around him. The metal armor on his arm feels tighter now. Or maybe that's just reality settling back in.
Aurora: "Did it work?"
Her voice is careful. Like she's not sure she believes in any of this but she's willing to be proven wrong.
Kiro: "Kinda." He stares at the ceiling of the tank. Bubbles drift past his vision. "I figured out a way to beat the pastor. He's super strong, but deflecting his attacks will work. He used the same openings against me and Raiji somehow."
A pause.
"Who even are they? And how did a shadow version of King Croc help me figure that out?"
Veyra: "So you used my brother to train?"
Her tone is flat. Not angry. Just... watching.
Kiro: "Maybe."
Veyra: "Use someone else."
She doesn't say please. Doesn't need to.
Aurora steps in before the silence gets heavy.
"The church. I heard they're a strong faction. Most light users say it's a gift from God, but..." She hesitates. Chooses her next words like she's handling glass. "I don't believe it's generational. There's a way to select babies at birth based on their genes. Experiments on them. Make them into knights."
She looks at Kiro through the glass.
"But the pastor? He's different. He was chosen from a long line of loyal blood. Let's just say... they breed them."
Kiro's jaw tightens.
Kiro: "More reason to beat them."
He closes his eyes again.
"Okay. Next is the General. Then the pastor. Then both together."
A breath.
"Wish me luck."
Aurora: "I'm going to check on Raiji."
She leaves. Footsteps soft on the metal floor.
Veyra: "Good luck, mayor."
The word hangs in the air. Mayor. She's never called him that before. Maybe it's a joke. Maybe it's a test. Maybe it's the closest thing to I'm worried that she knows how to say.
"I'm going too."
She follows Aurora.
Both of them stand in front of Raiji's tank.
He floats inside. Eyes closed. Baneblade fragments on the table beside him. A silent monument to how badly that fight went.
Veyra: "How's the loser doing?"
No warmth. But there's something underneath. The way she crosses her arms. The way she doesn't walk away.
Raiji opens his eyes.
Raiji: "Who's the loser? Not me."
A pause.
"You."
Another pause. Longer.
"I'm not getting it yet. That wind moves so hard."
His voice is quieter than usual. Not defeated. Just... calculating. The way a blade sharpens itself against stone.
Veyra doesn't respond.
She just watches.
Aurora: "Try to calm your mind. To be a wind elemental, you must be calm."
She places a hand on the glass of his tank. Not quite comforting. Not quite clinical. Just... present.
"Which you are not."
Raiji closes his eyes.
The healing tank fades. The hum of machinery dissolves. The weight of his broken body slips away like water through fingers.
He stands somewhere else now.
A training ground. Ancient stone. Wind that doesn't come from anywhere but touches everything. The sky is wrong too white, too still but the ground beneath his feet is real. He can feel every grain.
And then he sees them.
His father.
The knight beside him.
Raiji's Father: "Son."
The word isn't warm. It's an evaluation. A blade testing another blade's edge.
"How weak you have become. To lose to that man?"
He doesn't move. Doesn't need to. His presence alone is heavier than any strike.
"I taught you better than this."
A pause. The wind stops.
"Now try again. The Wind Spear. Or the Wind Thrust. I don't care which. Just do it right this time."
Raiji: "Yes, master."
Not father. Master.
That's what he's always been.
The knight moves.
No warning. No tell. Just action.
A heavy straight strike from above. The kind that splits boulders. The kind that doesn't leave room to breathe.
Raiji moves.
Quick motion.
His blade not Baneblade, just a training sword, but it feels right cuts through the knight's armor.
Slice.
He lands behind him.
The knight stumbles. Doesn't fall.
Raiji's thoughts:
"As I thought. His armor is tough. How do I get through it?"
He exhales.
"What about this? Remain calm."
He does a back slice.
Facing away from the knight now. Blade extended behind him.
Looking in front of him.
But the cut isn't there.
It's everywhere.
A green line of wind.
Not visible. Not really. More like the memory of a blade. The idea of a cut.
Wind sound.
Then silence.
Then the slice.
The knight splits in half.
Raiji: "..."
He doesn't celebrate. Doesn't relax.
Because the two halves reconnect.
Flesh knitting. Armor sealing. The knight stands again. Unharmed. Unbothered.
Raiji: "Not enough."
The knight gets up.
Same move.
But bigger.
The overhead strike comes down like a falling sky. Raiji blocks
Gets pushed back.
His feet carve trenches in the stone. His arms shake. His teeth grind.
Raiji's thoughts:
"Okay. That won't work."
He resets his stance.
"What else? This guy can copy every move I make."
His father watches in silence.
Waiting.
Judging.
The knight doesn't attack again.
It just stands there.
Ready.
Mirroring.
Learning.