The morning sun spread soft light across the rooftops of Soren Town. The same arena where cheers had echoed yesterday now stood silent, covered in early mist.
"Ugh… Bolt, stop howling this early!"
Riku groaned, still half-asleep as a furry lightning tail wagged near his face.
"Arf! Arf! Training time!"
Bolt's voice echoed directly in Riku's mind — the bond between them always sharp, even when Riku wished it wasn't.
"Yeah, yeah… I know. Mom said I should rest after yesterday's battle."
Riku sat up, hair sticking out in every direction.
From the workshop next door, metallic clanks and hissing steam filled the air — his mom was already working on Spirit Core maintenance for local Masters.
"Morning, sleepy hero!"
A cheerful voice called from the doorway. It was Toma, Riku's childhood friend — short, clever, and always carrying a backpack full of tools.
"You were on the town's news board! 'Local kid wins first match!' Hah, they even caught your face when you shouted, 'I won!'"
Riku's face flushed red. "Wait, seriously?! Delete that!"
Toma laughed, adjusting his Spirit Engineer goggles. "No way, it's trending already."
He tossed Riku a shining capsule — a mini-core stabilizer.
"Mom told me to give you this. It'll help Bolt recover faster between battles."
Bolt tilted his head curiously. "Can I eat it?"
Riku sighed. "No, you idiot. You don't eat tech."
Toma grinned. "You'd be surprised. Some Spirit Beasts actually like the energy taste."
Then, more seriously, he added, "By the way, have you heard? The Regional Spirit Cup qualifiers start next month. The top four from every district go to the main tournament."
Riku blinked. "Wait—what?! Already?!"
Bolt's eyes lit up. "Another fight?! Let's go, let's go!"
Riku stood, excitement rising again.
"Alright then… Guess we're not stopping here. Bolt, we're training twice as hard starting today!"
The wolf spirit barked joyfully as electricity sparked across the training yard.
Toma sighed, muttering, "And there goes my quiet morning…"
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled faint
ly — as if the world itself was listening.