The dawn over Hoshino City felt wrong.
The sky was pale, the clouds stretched thin like torn silk, and a faint hum resonated in the air — a sound too low for most to notice, but one that made Akira's skin crawl.
He stood by the classroom window, lost in thought. The city below looked peaceful, almost deceptively so. Yet deep inside, his mark throbbed — slow, rhythmic, and uneasy.
Ren was already at school. Early. Alone. Sitting near the courtyard fountain as the morning light painted him in silver.
Akira frowned. Ren? Early? That never happened.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and went down to meet him.
When he arrived, the sound of water trickling from the fountain was the only thing that moved. Ren sat motionless on the stone bench, his back straight, his gaze vacant. The wind ruffled his hair, but he didn't react.
"Ren," Akira called softly.
Ren turned slowly. His face was calm, almost too calm — expressionless, detached. "Morning."
"Morning…" Akira said cautiously. "You okay? You're here before the teachers."
A small, empty smile flickered across Ren's face. "Couldn't sleep."
Akira chuckled awkwardly. "That's new. You're usually late because you oversleep."
No reply.
Ren stood up, his movement oddly mechanical, and walked past him without another word. As he passed, Akira caught something strange — a shimmer on the ground. He looked down.
Ren's shadow didn't move like a shadow should.
It rippled, like liquid, sliding against the direction of the sun. For a heartbeat, Akira saw a second outline within it — faint, distorted, and wrong.
A whisper brushed against his ear.
> "He's changing."
He blinked — and the distortion vanished. The shadow was normal again. Ren was already halfway down the corridor, silent as ever.
Akira's hand trembled slightly. His mark pulsed once, hard. The faint black veins around it flared for an instant before fading. He could almost feel something crawling beneath Ren's skin — the same darkness that had haunted them since that night.
---
Deep beneath Hoshino City…
Ryozen moved through the abandoned subway tunnels, the beam of his lantern cutting through decades of dust and silence. The deeper he went, the heavier the air became — thick with energy that felt ancient and unclean.
Symbols covered the walls — worn, broken, still faintly glowing with residual force. He ran his hand over one, his gloved fingers tracing the grooves.
"So… this is where it started," he muttered. His tone was flat, but his eyes burned with focus.
The air vibrated. Somewhere in the distance, a low hum built, like a heartbeat echoing from beneath the earth. The sigils on the wall flared for an instant, reacting to his presence.
Then — a pulse.
A deep, resonant thud that shook the tunnel itself.
Ryozen's eyes narrowed. "The pulse of awakening…"
He reached out his hand, and golden light flared to life. The Wheel of Samsara materialized behind him, vast and radiant, its rings turning slowly like celestial machinery. Its sacred hum filled the air, pushing back the encroaching darkness.
But then — a crack.
Black lightning veined through the sigil, wrapping around his arm like chains. The energy fought him, resisting his control.
Ryozen gritted his teeth. "Still stubborn… after all these centuries."
The walls shuddered as the void energy surged. He tried to stabilize it, but the seal ruptured with a blinding flash. The explosion of force tore through the tunnel, throwing him back against the stone wall. His vision went white — then black.
When he opened his eyes, there was no tunnel. No light. Only silence.
He was floating in an endless void.
Whispers filled the dark. Countless, overlapping, echoing from nowhere.
> "The pulse has awakened."
"The fragments stir once more."
"The vessel remembers…"
Ryozen's body tensed. The void shimmered, and ahead of him, a crack split open in space itself. From within, something watched him — unseen yet unmistakably alive.
> "You can't stop what's already begun, Ryozen," the voice said. Deep. Calm. Terrifying.
"The chain is broken. The pulse has chosen its vessel."
Ryozen clenched his fist, eyes burning. "You underestimate me."
The Wheel of Samsara roared to life behind him, radiating golden light. He tore open a gate of blinding energy and stepped through, forcing the void to collapse around him.
He emerged back into the tunnel — but everything was shaking violently. Black cracks spread along the ground like veins, pulsing upward toward the surface.
"Damn it…" he hissed. "It's already reaching him."
He looked toward the ceiling — toward the world above.
"Akira… and that boy. The pulse is resonating."
---
Above, on the surface…
Ren stumbled down an empty hallway, gripping his chest. His heartbeat was uneven — too fast, too strong. His reflection in the window distorted. His eyes flickered between human and something else — something darker, older.
"What's… happening to me?" he gasped.
The voice inside him returned.
> "The pulse has begun. You are its vessel. You cannot silence it."
He fell to his knees, clutching the floor as a low, guttural sound escaped his throat.
The shadows beneath him came alive — twisting, writhing, crawling up his arms like serpents of smoke. His breath quickened, panic mixing with pain.
"No… not again… I won't lose control again!"
But the fragments of Oblivion inside him were awake — responding to the same pulse that had shattered the seal below. The darkness pulsed through his veins, whispering, feeding.
> "Embrace it, Ren. The fragments remember who they were."
He screamed, slamming his fist into the ground — and for a split second, his shadow exploded outward, swallowing the light around him. Then, silence.
When he looked up, the hallway was normal again.
But his reflection was not.
---
Akira froze mid-step.
His mark burned like fire. His pendant glowed violently, sending black light through the entire classroom. The other students didn't even flinch — frozen in time, unaware of the distortion tearing through the room.
Akira's breathing quickened. "No… this feeling…"
Masahiro's voice whispered faintly in his mind — from memories that weren't his own.
> "When the pulse awakens, balance collapses. One will rise… and another will fall."
The glow faded, leaving a faint black scar along his wrist. He turned toward the window — toward the courtyard where Ren had once been. But Ren was gone. Only a faint shimmer in the air remained — the echo of the pulse.
"Ren…" Akira whispered. "What are you becoming?"
---
Far below, Ryozen stood among the ruins of the broken seal.
The Wheel of Samsara flickered behind him, its light dim but steady.
"The pulse has awakened," he said quietly. "And with it… the fragments of Oblivion begin to stir."
He looked up — and for the first time in years, uncertainty clouded his gaze.
"Akira. Ren. The storm is coming."
The ground trembled, black light surging upward through the cracks.
Above, Ren's shadow flickered violently against the sunlight.
And somewhere beyond time and memory —
something ancient opened its eyes.