The sound of the stream rushing over the stones was the first thing Riku felt even before opening his eyes. There was no musty smell of the cathedral or the odor of ozone from the streets of District 9. The air was clean, with a hint of wet earth and pine trees.

  Riku tried to sit up, but let out a muffled groan. His body felt as if it had been disassembled and put back together with second-hand parts.

  “Slowly,” Ayane’s voice emerged from his right. “Your muscles are still remembering what it’s like to carry your weight without a demon’s help.”

  She was sitting near a small campfire, stirring a pot. She wasn't wearing her armor.

  “Where... where are we?” Riku asked, blinking to push away the glare of the sun filtering through the trees. “The cathedral...”

  “The cathedral is behind us, Riku. You were out for an entire week,” Ayane explained, handing him a mug with a hot, bitter liquid. “The government didn’t take the loss of that helicopter well. They sealed off District 9 and started a block-by-block sweep. If we stayed there, Morrvhael would have more laments to collect than I could handle.”

  She pointed north, through the dense vegetation.

  “We’re in a thick forest zone, near the highway that leads to District 7. It’s neutral territory, far from the government for now. I had to carry you for three days until we got here.”

  “Finally awake, lazy vessel,” Kael’Zhorun’s voice resonated, vibrating in Riku’s ring with an aggressive impatience. “Your human flesh is disappointing. A week to heal a few bullet holes?”

  Riku looked at the ring, feeling Kael’s energy more contained, yet sharper.

  “The government... will they come after us here too?” Riku asked, taking a sip of the tea.

  “Eventually,” Ayane replied seriously. “District 7 has a major technology center. If they suspect we’re heading there, they’ll send the Highers. Because of that, we can no longer depend on your luck or your blind rage.”

  She stood up, her expression shifting from caregiver to mentor. The spectral veil flickered slightly around her shoulders.

  “Kael’Zhorun asked me for something while you were sleeping, Riku. And I agreed. You have the power of an Alpha, but you fight like an amateur. If we encounter another bearer, you will die.”

  “She’s right, boy,” Kael intervened. “The board is getting crowded. The time for playing ghetto hero is over.”

  Ayane walked to the edge of the stream and looked at the water’s reflection. Riku stood up with difficulty, his bones cracking like dry twigs. He tried to clench his fist, feeling Kael’Zhorun’s energy bubbling beneath his skin, ready to be summoned.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Ayane said, noticing the reddish glow in his ring. “No armor. No flames. No Kael tricks. If you depend on the iron shell to fight, then the demon is the master, and you are just the battery.”

  “I don’t like this...” Kael’Zhorun grumbled. “My strength is what keeps us alive.”

  “Your strength is what makes him careless,” Ayane retorted, looking into the void where the demon’s voice echoed. “Riku, if you lose the ring, you die in ten seconds. I’m going to teach you to be dangerous even if you’re naked and bleeding.”

  She positioned herself at the edge of the stream. Her posture was relaxed, feet slightly apart, hands open and low. She didn't look like a warrior; she looked like part of the forest.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” she said. “Hit me.”

  Riku took a deep breath. He lunged forward fast, throwing a straight punch aimed at Ayane’s shoulder. He expected a block, an impact. Instead, he felt air.

  Ayane didn't retreat. She simply rotated her hip to the side at the very last millisecond. Riku’s punch went straight past, and he felt a light touch, almost like a caress, on his forearm. It was enough to use Riku’s own weight against him. With a fluid movement of her foot, she swept his supporting leg.

  Riku hit the ground with a thud, his face in the damp earth.

  “Again,” she said, returning to her initial position without even panting.

  Riku got up, wiping the dirt from his mouth. He was irritated. He lunged again, this time with a sequence of rapid strikes, trying to corner Ayane against a tree. She moved like Morrvhael’s smoke: fluid, intangible.

  She dodged a hook, slipped under a high kick, and with an open palm, gave a short shove to Riku’s chest. The strike seemed small, but it hit his center of gravity perfectly. Riku was thrown back, falling into the shallow waters of the stream.

  “You’re fighting me as if you’re trying to break down a wall,” Ayane said, walking to the bank. “You’re tense. Hate makes you rigid, Riku. And everything that is rigid breaks.”

  Riku stood up from the water, soaked and frustrated. “How am I supposed to beat someone like Mika if I can’t even touch you? She’s too fast!”

  “Mika is fast because she doesn't fight the opponent, she fights the space between you,” Ayane explained. “And I can do it because even before you move, I feel your intention.”

  She reached out her hand to help him out of the water.

  “She’s right, boy...” Kael’Zhorun admitted, reluctantly. “You attack like a rabid animal. If you learn to move your human body with the precision she has, when I put the armor on you, we will be unstoppable.”

  Ayane looked at Riku’s hands. “Try again. But this time, don’t look at where you want to hit. Feel the weight of your own body. If you don’t master yourself, you’ll never master Zan Mode.”

  Riku growled in frustration, his boots skidding in the mud as he tried to stabilize himself. He tried to apply what Ayane said: he focused his gaze on an empty spot to her left while throwing a low kick with his right, trying to be unpredictable.

  Ayane just took a short step back, Riku’s kick cutting through the air uselessly. Before he could pull his leg back, she lightly touched his shoulder and, with a hip movement, threw him off balance again. Riku fell on his back, letting out a dull thud against the forest floor.

  “You’re trying to 'fake' it, Riku. That’s not being unpredictable,” Ayane said, crossing her arms calmly. “You look one way, but your intention, your weight, and even the way you breathe scream what you’re going to do. To me, you are an open book written in capital letters.”

  “She’s right,” Kael’Zhorun grumbled in his mind. “I feel your bloodlust rising before you move a muscle. If I feel it, she feels it too. You’re transparent as glass, boy.”

  Riku stood up, wiping the grass off his pants, his face red not just from the effort, but from the humiliation.

  “How am I supposed to hide it?” Riku exclaimed. “I’m trying, but it feels like you know what I’m going to do before I even decide!”

  Ayane walked toward him, stopping just inches away.

  “Because you fight in a hurry. You want to end the fight because you’re afraid of it. As long as you’re afraid of being hit, you will hesitate. And that hesitation is what I read.”

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  She picked up a small stone from the ground and tossed it up, catching it in the air.

  “Your problem isn’t technique, Riku. It’s that you haven’t accepted the 'silence' yet. You are pure noise. Kael’Zhorun is noise. Both of you are like a radio out of tune making a loud racket. Mika is a cutting silence. I am a heavy silence. You need to learn to quiet your mind if you want your attacks to reach the target.”

  She stepped back and took a strip of cloth from her own backpack.

  “Your eyes are hindering you. You rely on them to see what I do, but they only show you what has already happened. I want you to see what is going to happen.”

  Ayane held out the blindfold to him.

  “Put this on. We’re going to train your sense of danger. If you can’t read me without your eyes, you’ll never be able to hide your own movements.”

  Riku took the strip of cloth and tied it around his head, tightening the knot. Darkness was instant, but instead of peace, he felt a rising despair. Without sight, the sounds of the forest seemed amplified: the rustle of leaves, the snapping of distant twigs, and the constant thudding of his own racing heart.

  “Fear is the first noise you must silence,” Ayane’s voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Don’t try to 'find' me. Feel the displacement of air.”

  Riku stood still, knees slightly bent. He tried to calm himself, but the previous frustration still burned.

  A tree branch cut through the air coming from his left. Riku tried to dodge to the right, but he was too slow. The branch hit him in the ribs.

  “Agh!” Riku doubled over.

  “You’re listening with your ears, Riku. That’s slow. Sound takes time to reach you. Use Kael, but don’t let him take control. Let him be your nerves, not your master.”

  “Stop fighting the darkness. I am the darkness,” Kael whispered. “Expand your consciousness beyond your skin. Feel the pressure her body exerts on the world around you.”

  Riku clenched his fist and took a deep breath, trying to empty his mind. He focused on the cold of the stream at his back and the warmth of the sun still hitting his shoulders.

  This time, he didn't wait to hear the sound. He felt a change in air pressure near his neck. At the last second, Riku tilted his head to the side. The branch brushed past his ear.

  “Better,” Ayane said, and he could swear he heard a smile in her voice.

  But she didn't stop. Now, the attacks began to come from different angles and in irregular rhythms. Riku was hit three times for every one he managed to dodge. He took blows to the arms, legs, and back. With every strike, irritation tried to return, but Kael’Zhorun kept him focused, like an anchor of ice in his mind.

  “Here she comes... to the right... now!” Kael warned.

  Riku spun his body and, by pure instinct, reached out his arm. He didn't just dodge; he felt Ayane’s branch and caught it in mid-air. Silence fell over the clearing.

  “You felt me,” Ayane said, inches from his face.

  “I didn't see... I just... the world seemed to get heavier in that direction,” Riku panted, still blindfolded, but smiling for the first time.

  She removed Riku’s blindfold. The sunlight blinded him for a moment, but when he regained his vision, the forest looked different. Sharper.

  “Sensory training is over for today. But the day isn’t over yet.”

  Ayane put away the cloth and crossed her arms, observing Riku with a penetrating gaze. The atmosphere in the clearing shifted; the air felt denser and the sound of the stream lower.

  “You learned to hear the silence, Riku. Now, let’s learn to deal with the fire,” she said, her voice losing its softness and taking on a provocative tone. “Kael’Zhorun is made of hate. If you try to repress that rage, it will explode and consume you. But if you just surrender to it, you become an animal.”

  She walked around him, like a predator sizing up prey. Ayane stopped in front of him and gave a smirk of disdain Riku had never seen on her.

  “I doubt you can control it. Deep down, you’re still that little boy who hid while his sister died, aren't you? A scared orphan who got a ring by luck, not merit.”

  Riku’s blood boiled instantly. The name Akari in Ayane’s mouth, used that way, felt like a stabbing.

  “That’s it...” Kael’Zhorun’s voice purred, the embers in the ring beginning to glow intensely. “Listen to what she says, vessel. She despises you. She thinks you’re a mistake.”

  “Don’t talk about my sister,” Riku hissed, fists clenched.

  “Why not?” Ayane took a step forward, poking her finger into his chest. “Because it hurts to know she died because of your weakness? That while she begged, you were useless? You’re not a monster, Riku. You’re just a coward with an expensive accessory on your finger.”

  Riku let out a roar and lunged. But this time, Ayane didn't just dodge. She parried the blow and shoved him hard, making him stumble.

  “More rage, Riku! But don’t let it reach your eyes!” she shouted. “If your vision turns red, you’ve lost! Direct that hate into the ring! Force the energy to mold itself, not to explode!”

  Riku was possessed. He saw Mika’s face, the soldiers, the Iron Dogs’ headquarters... all the injustices blended with the image of Ayane taunting him.

  “Kill her!” the demon screamed. “Show her our ruin!”

  “NO!” Riku screamed back, both at Ayane and the demon itself.

  He closed his eyes for a second mid-lunge. He visualized the rage as a flow of lava and, instead of letting it out as an explosion, he "pressed" it down, funneling it toward his right arm.

  Riku’s arm didn't manifest the full armor, but it was covered by an incomplete gauntlet of black bone and crimson flames, much denser and brighter than usual. The heat was so intense that the grass beneath his feet began to wither.

  He threw a punch. It wasn't a desperate move; it was a strike loaded with every ounce of pain he felt, but focused on a single point.

  Ayane had to manifest Morrvhael’s armor to block. The impact created a shockwave that blew out the campfire and shook the surrounding trees.

  Riku fell to his knees, gasping. The gauntlet vanished, leaving his arm with light burns, but he was still in control. He hadn't become an irrational monster.

  Ayane dissolved her armor, her gaze returning to normal, full of silent approval.

  “Did you feel it?” she asked, approaching and placing her hand on his shoulder. “The rage didn't dominate you. You used it to create a tool. This is the embryo of your Zan Mode.”

  Riku was still on his knees, his chest heaving as sweat poured down his face. The heat of that improvised gauntlet still throbbed in his pores. That was when Kael’Zhorun’s laughter echoed, not as a growl, but as a dry, metallic laugh that seemed to come from all sides.

  “Hahahaha! Very good, vessel... very good,” the demon purred, and a scarlet smoke danced around the ring. “Did you really think I wanted you to kill her? I am not so foolish as to destroy the only person capable of polishing your glass spirit.”

  Riku looked up, surprised and still irritated. “You were instigating me... You told me to finish her!”

  “I said what you wanted to hear in your moment of fury,” Kael retorted, his voice now serious and sharp. “It was my final test. If you had surrendered to my command and tried to tear her throat out without thinking, I would have known you’d never be more than a slave. But you defied me. You took my energy and molded it with YOUR will. For the first time, Riku, you weren’t just a host... you were a partner.”

  Ayane, who had listened to everything in silence, gave a half-smile and relaxed her combat stance.

  “So the demon of Ruin has a sense of strategy,” she commented, turning back to the extinguished fire. “I’m glad he realized that. If you had lost control, Riku, I would have had to take you down in a way you wouldn’t have liked.”

  She knelt and began to rearrange the wood to reignite the fire.

  “What Kael did was dangerous, but necessary. An Alpha is only complete when the man and the demon agree on the target. Now you know that rage is not your enemy, but rather how you let it overflow.”

  “I still smell burning,” Riku said, looking at his arm, which was still emitting a bit of steam. “But it doesn't hurt like before.”

  “It’s because the energy flowed; it didn’t stay stagnant.”

  Ayane watched Riku stand up, noting how his ribs were still prominent under skin paled by the lack of sun and nutrition in District 9. His body was that of a street survivor: agile and resilient, but lacking the density needed to withstand the continuous impact of combat between Alphas.

  “Kael’s energy sustains your bones, but it’s your muscle that protects your organs,” Ayane said, approaching and evaluating his posture. “You spent years eating leftovers and running. Now, we’re going to turn this body into a foundry.”

  Since they didn't have a gym, Ayane used what the forest offered. She led Riku to the base of a steep slope, where the stream formed a small waterfall over smooth, heavy rocks.

  She pointed to two large stones, each weighing about 20kg. “Pick them up. You’re going to climb up and down this slope ten times. Without using the ring’s strength. I want to feel your sweat, not Kael’s power.”

  She then pointed to a nearby part of the stream where the water reached his waist. “Stay in a squat position against the current. Keep your spine straight. If you yield to the water’s force, start over.”

  Riku began the training.

  “This is humiliating...” Kael’Zhorun grumbled, though there was a tone of respect in his voice. “Here we are carrying boulders like quarry slaves.”

  “Shut up, Kael,” Riku panted, teeth gritted as he climbed the slope for the fifth time. “She’s right. My legs feel like jelly every time the armor deactivates. I need to be strong on my own.”

  Ayane wasn't just a spectator. She followed his movements, correcting his breathing and posture with firm touches. When Riku nearly collapsed on the eighth climb, she placed her hand on his back—not to carry the weight, but to not let him give in.

  “Breathe through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Rhythm, Riku. The body is like a forge: the more you hit the metal, the denser it gets.”

  By the end of the day, Riku was collapsed on the grass, unable to move a finger. Ayane brought a bowl with a mixture of starchy roots, some wild berries, and small fish she had caught in the stream while he trained.

  “Eat it all,” she ordered. “Your body will try to 'eat' its own muscles to recover if you don’t give it fuel. Tomorrow, we do double.”

  Riku devoured the food with a hunger he had never felt before.

  “You’re being very patient with me,” Riku commented, looking at Ayane under the moonlight. “Why are you doing all this?”

  Ayane gave Riku’s forehead a light flick, a gesture that mixed authority with a strange familiarity, cutting the emotional mood before it could deepen.

  “You’re very curious for someone who still trips over his own legs, Riku,” she said, returning to poking the campfire embers with a stick. “Knowing about my past isn't going to toughen your fists or give you the seconds of advantage you’ll need against the next Alpha.”

  Riku tried to insist, but Ayane just shot a look that said, without words, that the conversation was over.

  “Worry about your training. Worry about how you’re going to wake up tomorrow without wanting to tear your own arms off from the pain. The 'why' of me being here is less important than the fact that I *am* here. Use that. The rest is just noise.”

  “She gave you a monumental brush-off, boy,” Kael’Zhorun let out a boisterous laugh that reverberated in Riku’s chest. “But she’s right. Curiosity is a luxury for those who don’t have a bounty on their head. Focus on the pain in your muscles; it’s the only real thing you possess right now.”

  Riku huffed, settling himself on the ground of dirt and leaves. He was too exhausted to argue. His body throbbed, a mixture of real physical pain.

  “Fine, keep your secrets,” Riku muttered, closing his eyes. “But don’t complain if I start making up wild stories about you in my head to pass the time during the climbs.”

  Ayane let out a short, dry laugh, almost imperceptible. “If that helps you carry the stones faster, feel free. Now sleep. Dawn comes in 8 hours, and the stream is going to be even colder.”

  Silence finally dominated the clearing, broken only by the crackling of burning wood and the distant sound of the highway. Riku fell asleep in seconds, a dreamless sleep.

  The fire was already low, leaving only orange embers that painted long shadows on the trees. Riku slept a heavy sleep, his deep breathing revealing his physical exhaustion. Ayane remained seated, watching the dark horizon, when Morrvhael’s voice emerged from the depths of her consciousness.

  The voice was like the sound of wind blowing through ruins, laden with a millennial sadness that never left its bearer's mind.

  “Why do you insist on this cycle, Ayane?” the demon’s voice echoed, melancholic and cold. “Look at him. He is made of fragile flesh and a hate that burns too fast. You are polishing

  a blade that will break. Soon, his name will be just another whisper in my collection... one more lament I will have to keep for you. Why not let him follow the destiny of ruin alone?”

  Ayane closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the souls Morrvhael carried. The connection between them was intimate and painful.

  “I know what you see, Morrvhael,” she replied in thought, without moving a muscle. “You see statistics and ends. But when I look at him... I see the same blind stubbornness. The same hotheaded way of someone who thinks they can punch the world until it changes.”

  She glanced at Riku. In the darkness, with his face relaxed by sleep, he didn't look like the monster Kael’Zhorun desired.

  “He reminds me of 'him', Morrvhael. The same spark of an idiot who doesn't know when to give up. I couldn't save that past, but maybe...” she hesitated, a trace of pain crossing her face, “maybe I feel empathy for this boy because he is proof that that flame still exists. Even if he becomes a lament in the future, I prefer it to be the lament of someone who fought, and not of someone who was just crushed by silence.”

  “Empathy is the wound through which the lament enters, my bearer...” Morrvhael sighed, and the cold mist around Ayane seemed to recede slightly. “But if that is your will, we shall guard his fire as long as it lasts.”

  Ayane didn't respond further. She stood up silently, covered Riku with a blanket she had in her bag, and walked to the edge of the camp.

  Bloopers :