Kiyomasa's arms shook.
Not slightly—full tremor. Elbows locking, unlocking, barely holding his weight.
His face hovered inches above the floor, sweat dripping straight down and spotting the metal beneath him. His breath came out rough, uneven, scraping his throat.
Jade stood on his back like she had nothing better to do. Hands in her pockets. Weight relaxed.
"Down."
Kiyomasa dropped.
His chest stopped just short of the ground. His triceps twitched hard trying to hold it.
"Up."
He pushed.
Halfway up, his right hand fumbled toward the floor, fingers searching—
He grabbed a marble.
The moment his grip tightened—
crack
It shattered into powder against his palm.
"Fuck…" he breathed out, pushing himself the rest of the way up, arms wobbling.
"What was that? I don't hear no conviction in that lamentation," Jade shouted, her voice a jagged rasp.
"You got that fragile masculinity, boy? You breakin' under the pressure of a little glass? You fragile!"
"YES MISS!" Kiyomasa shouted, his voice cracking from the strain.
He pushed back up, his triceps screaming, and went down again. Snap. Another marble turned to dust.
"You really tryin' your best out here? 'Cause it looks like you're just performin' some low-tier theatrics," Jade jeered, looking down at the back of his head.
"YES MISS!"
"Liar! You ain't even close to peak synchronization!" Jade shouted.
"YES MISS!" Kiyomasa bellowed, his face turning a dark shade of purple as he shattered another one and forced himself back to a locked-out position.
Jade leaned down, her shadow falling over him. "Maybe we should just put a skirt on you and let you start receivin', since you can't handle the heavy liftin'."
"YES MISS!" Kiyomasa shouted instinctively, his brain fried into a loop of obedience.
Jade's smirk widened, sharp and predatory. "Oh, so you gay and a femboy now?"
"YE—FUCK NO, MISS!" Kiyomasa's head snapped up, his eyes wide with sudden, panicked clarity.
"Then what's your preference? What you into?"
Kiyomasa dropped for another rep, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I LIKE WOMEN, MISS!"
"So you're a lesbian?" Jade asked, her tone mockingly confused.
"HOW, MISS?"
Jade didn't answer with words. She raised her foot and drove it into the center of his spine, slamming him chest-first into the alloy floor with a heavy thud. She stepped off, clicking her tongue as she looked down at his flattened form.
"I told ya to only say 'yes' and 'no'. You overstepped the verbal boundaries, boy."
He went down. "y-yes miss....."
She looked toward the heavy vault door where Dennis was standing. He looked immaculate as ever, but his eyebrows were pushed together in a look of sheer, silent judgment that clearly translated to: What kind of psychotic training is this?
Jade strolled toward him, her gait loose and arrogant. "You want somethin', homeboy? Or you just here to audit the curriculum?"
Dennis pointed a gloved hand at the half-dead Kiyomasa on the floor.
"Oh, those?" Jade glanced back at the shattered remains.
"Them marbles are coated in a high-viscosity lubricant. Slipperier than a politician's tongue. He's gotta apply force just to hold 'em, but the second he over-indexes that pressure, they disintegrate. He's gotta put ten in that bucket. It's about that micro-calibration."
"That looks... exceedingly difficult," Dennis noted, his voice smooth and precise.
Jade's eyes twinkled. "It's hard, but the cognitive and physical dividends are worth it."
"On that note... you wanna try your luck?"
"What?"
Dennis stepped back, his usual composure flickering into genuine shock. "I believe I shall decline."
Kiyomasa's eyes suddenly gleamed with a half-dead, manic energy. He sprang off the floor like a reanimated corpse, scurrying to bring the bucket and a fresh batch of marbles over to Dennis.
"Please show me how it's done, Sir Dennis!" he chirped, looking up with terrifyingly pure expectation.
Dennis clicked his tongue, a faint, internal curse fluttering behind his lips.
"Go on, start, homeboy," Jade challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Show the kid how a pro handles the pressure."
Dennis let out a long, weary sigh. He stripped off his formal coat, folded it neatly, and dropped into a perfect, textbook pushup position. But as his fingers hovered over the floor, Jade kicked a new set toward him.
"Hold a moment," she said.
"Them coated ones are too easy for a 0-star. Try these."
Dennis looked down. These weren't coated. They were transparent, thin-walled glass marbles. He went down, his movements a masterclass in control, and tried to pinch one.
Tink-shatter.
It disintegrated instantly.
Dennis paused, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the pieces. 'They are made of the thinnest glass... barely atoms thick. It's a structural impossibility.'
He tried again. And again. Each time, the glass gave way before he could even lift it. He sat back on his heels, looking up at Jade.
"This is impossible."
"Impossible, right?" Jade smirked. She didn't sound like she was bragging; she sounded like she was about to drop some heavy knowledge.
"Move."
Dennis shifted aside. Jade dropped into the position, her movements deceptively casual.
She went down, her hand moving with a strange, liquid stillness. Her fingers closed around the glass marble—and it stayed whole.
She rose back up into a sitting position, holding the fragile sphere between two fingers like it was a diamond.
"Homeboy, you listen as well," Jade said, her voice lose but firm. Dennis gave a slight, respectful nod.
"Oi man—only biologically," she looked at Kiyomasa.
"YES MISS?" Kiyomasa shouted, the reflex still hard-coded.
"Don't shout now. Lower the auditory output," Jade instructed. Kiyomasa nodded frantically, sealing his lips.
"The goal here ain't just strength," Jade began, her eyes fixed on the marble.
"It's about the deliberate withdrawal of vana from a localized anatomical sector. You gotta pull the energy back to lower the intensity of your touch. Now, you'd think, 'if I pull the vana back, won't my natural muscle just do the job?'"
She shook her head, her dark ponytail swaying.
"Nah. If you run out of vana in a scrap, your base stats stay the same. But when you purposefully retract it, you're creating a localized void. You're actually makin' that part of your body weaker than a normal human's for a split second. You're drainin' the conduit."
She held the marble over the bucket. She let it drop—a mere two inches. The moment it hit the bottom of the metal bucket, it shattered.
"See that?" Jade sat down, her expression serious.
"That glass is so fragile it breaks just by fallin' an inch. To pick it up, you gotta make yourself weaker than a toddler right at the moment of contact.
For me and the other 0-stars, we've mastered this 'cause we have to. But for someone on the rise like you, Kiyomasa, it's vital. If you don't learn how to dial it back, everyday life becomes a straight-up casualty zone."
Kiyomasa looked at the bucket, his eyes wide. "I understand."
"Good. Keep practicing 'til your hands stop actin' like sledgehammers," Jade said.
She turned back to Dennis. "And for you, homeboy—stop relyin' on your physical frame. Try to reverse the vana flow during the retraction. It'll facilitate a more profound stabilization—uh, it'll make you stronger in the long run."
"I shall endeavor to apply that," Dennis replied, his voice thoughtful. "Vana truly is fascinating.
It not only grants us immeasurable power, but it serves as the very mechanism through which we must embrace weakness."
Jade nodded, a rare moment of genuine agreement.
She turned her gaze back to Kiyomasa, who looked like he was deep in a philosophical crisis. "Watcha thinkin' about over there, element boy?"
Kiyomasa rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely distressed. "I was just thinking... how hard life would be if I stayed this strong without control.
Like, imagine I see a stray cat about to get hit by a car, and I run over to save it... but I grab it too tight. And then... the cat just bursts from the impact."
Jade nodded, her hand making a slow, rhythmic squeezing motion in the air.
"Exactly. Or imagine you're in the heat of a moment, feelin' the vibe, and you squeeze too hard... then it just blows and there's blood and viscera everywhere. That wouldn't be a pleasant night for nobody involved. Total mood killer."
Kiyomasa blinked, his head tilting in total confusion. "Squeeze what?"
Jade didn't answer. she just turned and started walking toward the exit, her boots clicking a sharp rhythm.
Dennis walked over to Kiyomasa, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder as they followed.
"The element of shame and social decorum has yet to grasp her," Dennis whispered.
Kiyomasa looked at him.
"…Why are you talking like Miss Jade now?"
Dennis paused.
Then cleared his throat.
"…That… vile woman has cra—"
He stopped.
"…influenced my diction."
Jade didn't even turn around.
"Stop yo yap. We movin'. Gotta check on shawty."
Kiyomasa pushed himself up again with a groan, wiping his hands on his shirt.
"…Yeah… after this… I'm retiring from life…"
---
Ai's grip trembled before she even touched the glass again.
She crouched low beside the training table, knees bent uneven on the cold alloy floor. The metal pressed through her clothes, biting into her skin like it didn't belong to her world. Her fingers hovered over the glass—slow, careful—like she was defusing something explosive.
She wrapped her middle finger and thumb around it.
She held it lightly barely applying any pressure.
The glass didn't crack immediately this time.
Inside, the water shifted.
Not smoothly—violently.
It sloshed upward, smashing against the inner walls like it was reacting to her, like it knew her strength didn't belong there.
Ai lifted it a little higher.
Her hand started shaking.
Not from fear—from control.
Her forearm tightened, veins pushing against her skin, trying to stabilize something that didn't want to be stabilized.
A single droplet slid over the edge.
It fell.
Drip.
The glass shattered instantly in her grip.
A sharp crack split the air.
Fragments burst outward, scattering across the table and floor. One piece scraped her knuckle, leaving a thin red line.
Ai froze.
Her breathing stopped for a second.
Then—
"—fuck…" she muttered under her breath, staring at the broken remains like they personally betrayed her.
A strand of her hair slipped forward,brushing across her face.
She pushed it back.
It fell again.
She growled under her breath, more annoyed at that than the glass. Her fingers dragged through her hair, trying to push it behind her ear, but more strands came loose.
She grabbed it all, yanked it back hard, tying it tighter—
A few strands still slipped free, falling right into her eyes again.
Ai snapped.
Ai aggressively shoved the hair back over and over, her breaths coming in ragged hisses until she eventually just collapsed, sitting on the cold metal and burying her face in her knees. A string of the vilest, most creative curses poured out of her, muffled by her clothes.
"Who you cursing, shawty?"
Jade strolled into the room, her boots clicking a lazy, rhythmic tempo against the floor.
She looked down at the ball of frustration on the ground with an amused tilt of her head.
Ai bolted upright, her face flushed with a mix of exertion and pure, unadulterated rage.
"Everything! You! This godforsaken room! These fucking fragile-ass glasses! My fuckass hair! The absolute asshole that sent me to this place and the miserable fate that brought me here in the first place!"
Kiyomasa, who had been standing in the corner looking like he'd been through a car wash, gave a sympathetic nod.
"I just tried that," he said, his voice sounding a bit distant.
"The cursing. It definitely helps you calm down a little, Ai."
Dennis, leaning against the doorframe, let out a weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire building's logistics.
Jade, however, just grinned. "I like your enthusiasm. Keeps the blood pumpin'."
Ai snarled, her hand darting out to snatch another glass from the table.
"I'll just kill you!"
Crunch.
The glass turned to dust before it even left the pedestal.
Jade burst out laughing, a sharp, jagged sound that filled the room. "You can't even grab a drink, girl. Imagine that shit. Tryna catch a catch-fade like that."
Ai exhaled a long, shaky breath, her anger cooling into a sharp, bitter frustration.
"What is the point of this? What is the actual point of this training?"
Jade didn't answer with words. She walked forward, her movement as fluid as a predator's, and picked up a glass. She didn't look at it. She didn't tremble. She simply lifted it, drank the water in one smooth motion, and set the empty glass back down. It didn't even make a sound.
"What is your power?" Jade asked, her eyes locking onto Ai's.
"What?"
"I'm askin' you a simple question, girl. What is your power?"
Ai hesitated, her voice losing its edge. "It's... to adapt. To anything."
Jade nodded once, her expression unreadable.
"And how you control it?"
Ai opened her mouth to snap back, but the words died in her throat. She looked at her hands, then back at the shattered glass, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck.
"...I don't know."
"Exactly."
Jade turned a nearby chair around and straddled it, resting her crossed arms over the backrest as she faced Ai. "Right now, your body is runnin' the show. It adapts automatically to everythin' around you, and you got zero input in the matter. You're a passenger."
She leaned forward, her gaze intensifying.
"And then there's the other way—the way you force it. You've done that, right? You wanted to survive somethin' so bad, you focused every cell in your soul until your body caught up to the demand."
Jade shook her head. "Both of those have massive downsides. The first one? You can't control it. Homeboy,"
She glanced at Dennis, "did she seem bothered by the air in Beuno?"
Dennis pushed off the wall. "Come to think of it, you didn't seem irritated at all, Miss Ai. The wind was quite harsh, but you looked... normal after a few minutes."
Ai blinked, the memory clicking into place.
"Yeah. It was fine."
"Because your body decided it should be fine," Jade countered. "It adapted without askin' you. And the second way—forcin' it—takes too damn long. In a real scrap, 'too long' is just another word for 'dead'."
Jade tapped her knuckles against the back of the chair. "Your goal is to stand in the middle. Your body should be adaptin' to everythin' you do, but that action should be unconsciously in your control.
Think about breathin'. It happens while you sleep, right? Unconscious. But you can also stop it if you want. You can pant, you can hold it, you can push it. That's how you need to handle your ability."
She pointed a finger at Ai.
"You need to be able to use that automatic adaptation while simultaneously choosin' not to adapt when it doesn't serve you.
That's the secret to masterin' your physical strength. Unlike Kiyomasa over here, who's gotta rebuild his control from the bottom up, you'll have the ultimate advantage. Once you master the 'choice,' you can adapt to usin' too much force or too little in a millisecond. It'll be effortless."
Dennis frowned, his analytical mind whirring. "But wouldn't allowin' her body to adapt automatically be the superior choice? If her biology adjusts to the environment and the task perfectly every time, why is there a need for purposeful control? If her body automatically adjusts her strength to the glass, what is the point of the struggle?"
Ai nodded, looking at Jade for the answer.
"That's what I'm wonderin' too. Why fix what's workin' on its own?"
Jade smirked, a sharp, mocking twist of her lips.
"Homeboy, you appear real smart 'til you open your mouth and let the nonsense fall out."
Dennis didn't even flinch at the insult, merely waiting for the explanation.
"You don't really wanna adapt to anythin',"
Jade said, her voice dropping into a lower, more serious register.
"You do that, and you're lookin' at a total system overload. Imagine you're in a high-tier, complicated fight. Your opponent is smart.
They force your body to adapt to ten different stressors at once—heat, pressure, gravity, poison—and your body tries to handle it all on autopilot. Your system gets overwhelmed. It might just tear itself apart tryin' to keep up with the demands. But if you got control? You choose what to ignore and what to fix."
Jade stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the alloy. Her gaze fell to the floor, her eyes darkening as if she were looking at something miles away, or years in the past.
"Along with that..." her voice trailed off for a second, turning heavy and hollow. "It'll make you empty. To the core."
She looked back at Ai, and for a fleeting moment, the rough persona softened, revealing a glimpse of something raw and scarred.
"Being able to auto-adapt to everythin' sounds like a cheat code, until you realize it takes away your ability to react to emotions.
You wouldn't feel sad. You wouldn't feel happy. You wouldn't feel nothin'. Your body would just... adapt to the pain until the pain didn't exist. You'd be a ghost in your own skin. That's why you gotta trust me on this."
The room went silent. The frustration that had been radiating off Ai seemed to evaporate, replaced by a cold realization. She clicked her tongue, looking away, her voice softer.
"Fine. Fine, whatever. I get it."
Jade's smirk returned, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Wonderful."
Kiyomasa scratched his head, looking back and forth between them. "Her power really is interesting... there are so many components to think about. It's not just about hitting things."
"The vana itself is the mystery," Dennis added, moving toward the exit.
"The powers just become more surprising the deeper we go. Honestly, it's fascinating."
He waved a hand over his shoulder. "Well, enjoy your training. I'll be on my way to handle the rest of the day's logistics."
Jade leaned back against the table, watching Ai.
"Watcha waitin' for, shawty?The water ain't gonna drink itself."
Ai took a deep breath, reached out, and focused. This time more focused and determined.
---
The hallway was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of Dennis's polished boots against the metal floor. Suddenly, a translucent blue screen flickered into existence, pacing him as he walked.
On the other side of the transmission, Zazm moved through a white abyss. He didn't look at the camera; he stared straight ahead into a swirling vortex of ice and snow, his silhouette cut sharply against the white-out conditions.
His hair, longer now, was pulled into a functional ponytail that whipped behind him in the gale.
Zazm's voice came through the speaker, sounding colder than the sub-zero winds buffeting his frame.
"What's the status."
"Miss Ai and Kiyomasa are learning quickly," Dennis reported, his gaze fixed on the floor ahead.
"They'll be standing exactly where needed..." He trailed off, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper.
"...if they survive, that is."
Zazm didn't react to that.
He stepped forward, his foot sinking deep into the snow before pulling free again with a heavy shift.
"That woman," he said, voice flat, "is unstable."
A gust of wind pushed against him. His coat barely moved.
"But her skill is reliable."
"you're right."
There was a brief silence between them.
Snow kept hitting the screen in bursts.
Zazm spoke again.
"What about that."
The atmosphere of the call shifted. Dennis's tone became clinical, devoid of its usual warmth.
"I did background checks on Iron Halo. They are corrupted to the core. Every level of leadership is compromised."
Zazm's eyes, hollow and devoid of emotion, remained fixed on the horizon. "I suspected as much. Paul's submission just made the inevitable easier."
Dennis clenched his fists so tightly the leather of his gloves creaked.
"Going public with this information would be a seismic shock. It could lead to a civil war. Even if Iron Halo isn't strong enough to win, the fallout would be catastrophic.
The civilians would be shook, and with no one left to enforce the law, the crime rate would skyrocket. Obsidian Fang is already spread thin on the front lines. Sable Veil and Ember Forge wouldn't be of any help."
Zazm finally cut his eyes toward the screen, the movement slow and predatory. "Calm down."
Dennis instantly relaxed his hands, bowing his head slightly. "My apologies. I thought too far ahead."
"Paul is on our side," Zazm said, his voice a low, chilling drone.
"As long as we have the Supreme Commander of Iron Halo with us, things will be easier."
"That's true," Dennis muttered. "But what can be done, Supreme Commander Zazm?"
Zazm took a heavy, labored step, freeing his leg from a massive snow pile that had buried him to the hip.
"Wipe them out."
Dennis blinked, his composure slipping for a fraction of a second.
"Pardon?"
Zazm didn't answer immediately. He kept walking, he brushed snow off from sleeve.
"Mostly, corrupt individuals are the ones at the top. Once they meet their end, it will serve as an example."
Dennis leaned back against the cold stone wall of the corridor, his mind racing through the logistics.
"Very well then. I'll draft a party made with some of the strongest members of Iron Halo and send them to their deaths ."
"Ask Gilgamesh to lead it," Zazm commanded.
"But that would be dangerous," Dennis countered, his brow furrowing. "I don't even know who I'll use to get rid of the top individuals of Iron Halo—they are all Star level 1 or 2. It will be extremely hard to begin with. Adding Sir Gilgamesh would only lessen our odds of a clean sweep."
Zazm's eyes darted off to Dennis locking him in a stare, his voice was like ice cracking.
"Can you kill Gilgamesh?"
Dennis's eyes went cold, a sharp, lethal light flickering in the depths of his pupils. He looked up at the screen.
"I can."
"Can I leave it to you?"
Dennis pushed himself off the wall, a dark smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"This is perfect, actually. I have a plan."
Zazm looked directly into the camera for the first time, his gaze heavy and final.
"Give them a heroic ending."
Dennis's smirk widened slightly.
"Of course," he said. "They'll be remembered."
A pause.
"…though nothing will remain of them."
The screen flickered and then disappeared.
---
The screen flickered and died. Dennis was alone in the hall, while Zazm continued his march through the storm.
Behind Zazm, invisible to the sensors of the call, Zephyra clung to him like a shadow. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. She was a weight he carried without complaint, a dark tether in the white waste.
"Zephyra," Zazm muttered, his breath hitching slightly. "Would you stop holding me so tightly."
She didn't let go. Instead, she shook her head slowly, her hair brushing against his ear.
"Cold," she muttered softly. "And I'm sleepy."
She raised her hand slightly dusting snow off Zazm's head.
A shadow erupted from the white-out. A man, blade bared, lunged at Zazm's throat with desperate speed. He never made contact. In the blink of an eye, the attacker vanished—erased from existence before his steel could even whistle through the air.
"Looks like we have reached our destination," Zazm said, his eyes locking onto a massive, jagged building looming through the snow.
He stared at the monolith.
'So that's where that 0-star threat resides.'
"Why not just remove the entire building from existence?" Zephyra whispered, her voice a mix of boredom and lethargy.
"Her ability is related to mind control," Zazm replied, his voice flat.
"People under her control can be saved."
Zephyra looked up at the looming structure as Zazm reached the entrance. He didn't reach for the handle.
He kicked the door. The massive, reinforced door tore off its hinges, flying through the air like a piece of scrap paper.
As he stepped inside, a dozen of men lunged from the shadows.
'Some of them are from obsidian fang'
They never reached him. As Zazm walked, every attacker froze in place, their bodies locked in time.
He reached the primary chamber. Zephyra's grip tightened on his shoulders, her eyes narrowing.
"There are two 0-star threats."
"Doesn't matter," Zazm said.
He approached the final door. Before he could strike it, the heavy door swung open. He walked inside to find a woman sitting on a throne of bone and iron.
Standing beside her was a man holding a giant sword—a 1-star soldier Zazm recognized instantly. He had gone missing a few weeks back.
She shared her vana with him, Zazm noted silently.
The woman, her hair the color of fresh blood and eyes a deep, swirling red, smirked.
"Welcome, Supreme Commander Zazm. I was waiting for you."
She noticed where his gaze was fixed.
"I'm rather sad... are men your type?"
"Cut the bullshit," Zazm said, his voice a low chill.
"What did you do?"
She rose from her throne, laughing, the sound echoing off the high ceilings.
"Nothing much. He just fell for me. I guess it isn't his fault... I'm just so irresistible."
Her eyes began to glow with a hypnotic, rhythmic light. She fixed her gaze on Zazm, her voice turning into a honeyed command.
"Come to me. I'll satisfy you."
In the next heartbeat, she vanished from her throne and reappeared inches from Zazm's face. Zazm raised a hand to strike, but he was too slow for the jealous shadow on his back.
Zephyra launched herself off Zazm's shoulders with a snarl. She caught the woman's face in one hand, the force of the tackle driving them both into the floor. The alloy plates shattered, and both women plummeted through the floorboards into the level below.
Zazm didn't even look down. He turned his attention to the mind-controlled swordsman who was already swinging. Zazm caught the massive blade with his bare hand, the metal groaning under his grip.
With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the man unconscious.
In the crater below, the red-haired woman scrambled back, coughing up blood. She looked at the girl standing over her—Zephyra, whose eyes were burning with a dark intensity.
"Who the fuck are you?" the woman spat.
Zephyra's expression was flat, her voice a terrifying whisper.
"That doesn't matter."
The woman laughed, wiping blood from her lip.
"Are you with that Supreme Commander?"
Zephyra lunged, grabbing the woman by the throat and lifting her off the ground with one hand.
"What if I am?"
The woman smirked through the pain, her red eyes flashing.
"Well... I'll make that Supreme Commander mine."
Zephyra's grip tightened until the woman's neck bones began to creak.
"So I was right. You're a bitch after all. Well, doesn't matter."
Zephyra grabbed the woman's arm, and a black-and-purple flame erupted from her palm. The smell of burning flesh filled the room as the woman screamed in agony.
"Why are you doing this to me?!" the woman shrieked.
Zephyra crouched on her side, leaning in until their ears almost touched. Her voice was a chilling, possessive purr.
"I'm a rather jealous person. I don't like it when others try to take what's mine."
Without hesitation, Zephyra's fingers moved. She poked both of the woman's eyes out in a spray of red. "I didn't like the way you looked at him either."
The woman's screams reached a crescendo of pure agony before Zephyra unleashed her full power. The black and purple flames roared, consuming the 0-star threat entirely until nothing but ash remained on the shattered floor.
________________________