The night was silent.
Too silent.
Akira sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the small black object on his desk. It was the same one that had appeared the night the city nearly fell apart. A faint hum pulsed from it, slow and rhythmic — almost like a heartbeat.
The pendant on his chest began to glow in response, a deep, obsidian light weaving through its silver threads.
Akira frowned. "What now…"
The object lifted slightly off the desk. The glow brightened, swallowing the room in black light.
Before he could react, the floor beneath him fractured — not in sound or touch, but in reality.
The world dissolved.
---
He opened his eyes to find himself standing in a vast emptiness — a void of gray mist and fractured light. There was no sky, no ground. Only floating shards of land, like remnants of a shattered world.
His breath trembled in the cold stillness. "Where… am I?"
A voice echoed behind him, calm and strong.
> "You're where all souls train before they fall — the Void of Resonance."
Akira turned.
Masahiro Kurogane stood before him — tall, composed, his cloak flickering with faint streams of light. The same warrior whose power he'd felt through the pendant.
Akira stepped forward, stunned. "You're the one I saw before… the man in my visions."
Masahiro nodded slightly. "And you… are the one who bears my blade. The path has chosen you."
Akira clenched his fists. "Why am I here? Why me? And what am I supposed to do with this thing?"
Masahiro's gaze softened. "The blade you hold — Kurohikari — is not just a weapon. It's a reflection of your soul. As long as you fear your power, the blade will remain sealed. To wield it… you must embrace both light and shadow within."
Akira stared down at his hand. "Light and shadow, huh? Easy for you to say."
Masahiro gave a faint smile. "Then find it for yourself."
His body began to fade, dissolving like mist.
"Wait!" Akira reached out. "Old man, where are you going? I can't do this alone!"
Masahiro's voice lingered faintly as he vanished.
> "You already have what you need. Listen to your soul, Akira. Let it answer."
Then he was gone.
---
Akira turned around — and froze.
From the mist, shadows began to crawl forth. Their forms twisted and stretched, echoing the creatures he'd fought before, but now they looked faster, sharper, almost alive. Their hollow eyes glowed with hatred.
"Figures," Akira muttered, dropping into a stance. "No instructions. Just straight to the nightmare."
The first shadow lunged. Akira barely dodged, feeling the wind of its claws slice through his sleeve. He countered with a punch, but his hand passed through its smoky form.
Another came from behind, striking his back. Pain exploded through him, sending him sprawling.
He gasped, rolling across the ground. "Old man! A little help would be nice!"
No answer. Only the whispering of the void.
The shadows circled him, dozens now, their movements synchronized. One kicked him hard in the ribs; another slammed him into the cracked stone. Akira's breath caught — his vision blurred.
"Not… again…" he whispered.
He closed his eyes — and in that instant, visions rushed into him.
---
He saw Masahiro's war — flames devouring cities, twelve colossal shadows tearing through the skies.
He saw Masahiro's comrades, their faces full of resolve and sorrow, fighting beside him under a blood-red moon.
He saw a woman — his mother — reaching toward him, her voice faint.
> "Don't run from your pain, Akira. It's part of your strength."
His eyes snapped open.
Something inside him snapped too — a spark igniting into a storm.
His right arm darkened, veins glowing black like liquid obsidian. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as his body moved on instinct.
When the next shadow leapt, he raised his hand — and a blade of black light erupted from his grip.
Kurohikari.
The same blade that once belonged to Masahiro now shimmered in his hand, pure obsidian edged with silver light. It hummed, alive, resonating with his pulse.
Akira exhaled slowly. "Alright… let's see what you can do."
He swung.
The shadow exploded on contact, torn apart by dark energy. The blast sent shockwaves through the void, scattering the mist. The others charged him, dozens at once — but Akira was faster now. His body moved like lightning, his senses sharpened to unnatural clarity.
He could see every attack before it came.
He struck once, twice — each blow burning through the creatures like fire through paper.
His feet moved with instinctive precision, his blade slicing arcs of black light that shattered the ground beneath him. For every shadow that fell, another rose — but he no longer backed down.
His voice echoed through the chaos: "I'm done running!"
The final shadow roared, lunging with inhuman fury. Akira's mark ignited on his arm, blazing white against the black. He pivoted, thrusting the blade through its core. The creature froze, cracked, and burst apart into ash and light.
Silence.
Akira stood in the middle of the void, chest heaving, the blade's light flickering gently in his grasp.
Then he heard it — Masahiro's voice again, soft, almost proud.
> "You've awakened your first ability. Shadow Burst. The bridge between will and reality. Remember… strength without control becomes destruction."
Akira lowered his blade, the words echoing in his head. "Shadow Burst…"
The void began to crumble around him, cracks of light splitting the ground. He felt his body being pulled back — back to his world.
---
With a flash, he fell onto his bed. The room was silent once more. His pendant now glowed faintly before dimming back to its normal state.
The blade had returned to it — sealed, sleeping.
Akira lay still, staring at the ceiling. His body trembled, but this time… he wasn't afraid. He understood what the power meant — and what it could become if he lost control.
He whispered softly, "Thanks… old man."
Just as he closed his eyes, a faint whisper echoed from the pendant — Masahiro's voice again, quieter this time.
> "The shadows are moving. Be ready."
Akira's eyes opened wide.
The pendant flickered once — an obsidian gleam spreading across the room like rippling darkness. For a second, it looked almost alive.
Then everything went still.
The faint reflection of Akira in the dark window showed his mark glowing faintly — as if something deep within was staring back.
The Eclipse of the Soul had only just begun.