He limped into the Marveller's main bay, the torn suit heavy on his aching body. Every step sent a jolt through his ribs. The adrenaline that had pushed him through the fight was gone. Now, only exhaustion remained.
The emptiness of the train car, the lost passengers, it all settled deep inside him. He had failed. The thought burned worse than any physical wound.
I couldn't protect them.
He dragged himself to a wall, sliding down to sit on the cold metal floor. His head fell back. His vision swam with the memory of Silvermane's cold grip.
Garia sat in his usual chair, his silver-white hair flowing around him. His eyes, silver-blue, opened slowly. They fixed on Takuya, taking in the ripped costume, the defeated posture, the shallow breaths.
The alien's gaze held no judgment, only a deep, knowing quiet.
"What happened, Takuya?"
Garia's voice was calm, yet an undercurrent of concern ran beneath it.
He swallowed, the taste of ash still on his tongue. The words felt heavy, hard to push out.
"It was a train. The Iron Cross Army… they attacked it."
His voice was raw.
He saw them again, the black figures, the glowing red visors.
Ninders.
"Nijika and Ryo were there. They were scared."
The memory of their faces, pale and frozen with terror, twisted something in his gut. He had seen their fear. He had felt their helplessness.
"Then Silvermane showed up. He… he just walked through everything."
The image of the towering Machine BEM, its silver frame untouched, its energy mane crackling, filled his mind. Every punch he threw, every web he shot, had meant nothing.
"I hit him. Again and again."
He looked at his hands, still shaking slightly.
"It was like hitting a wall. He caught my leg. Threw me like I was nothing."
Shame burned in his chest. He had been so sure. So ready.
"I couldn't stop them. He just… he took them all."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"How can I fight something like that? I don't think I can beat him."
Garia's silver eyes narrowed. His voice, usually calm, became sharp.
"Is that all it takes? One setback, and you crumble?"
Takuya flinched. The words felt like a slap.
"Your father died for this, Takuya. Professor Monster took him. He took my home."
Garia's hand gripped the armrest of his chair, the glowing scars on his skin pulsing faintly.
"You found the Bracelet. You accepted this mission. Was that all a lie? Are you truly so weak?"
Each question was a jab. Takuya felt his face heat up.
He doesn't understand. He wasn't there.
"They were just kids. My friends. You saw what he did."
He tried to defend himself, but Garia cut him off.
"Your friends are gone, taken by the Iron Cross Army. Do you think moping here will bring them back? Will it avenge your father?"
Garia leaned forward, his voice dropping but losing none of its edge.
"Or will you stand up? Will you make them pay?"
Takuya had no response. The cold metal pressed against his back. He just sat there, silent, the weight of Garia's words heavy. His mind replayed the images of Silvermane, then of Nijika and Ryo being dragged away.
They're gone. Because I wasn't strong enough.
He stared at the floor, the metallic tang of shame filling his mouth.
Garia was right. Giving up now meant his father died for nothing. It meant Nijika and Ryo were lost for good. The thought stirred a cold fire in his gut.
He couldn't just sit here.
He pushed himself up, his muscles protesting. His ribs screamed.
It doesn't matter how much it hurts.
His eyes met Garia's. A silent understanding passed between them. The alien warrior nodded, a subtle gesture of acceptance.
"Follow me," Garia said. His voice had softened, losing its sharp edge. "Your training begins anew."
He followed Garia into the training room, the metallic tang of his failure still in his mouth. The room was dark, but familiar.
Garia stopped in the center.
"Into a fighting stance, Takuya."
Takuya hesitated. Now? After all that?
"We're really doing this now? Nijika and Ryo… they're out there."
His voice held the worry. He pictured their faces again.
"Precisely because of that," Garia said, his tone firm. "You failed them today because you lack control. You lack understanding."
Garia reached into his robe. He pulled out a strip of dark fabric.
"Put this on."
He held out a black blindfold. Takuya stared at it.
"A blindfold? What's the point? I can't see anything with this on."
He reached for it, confused.
"You are too reliant on your eyes, Takuya," Garia explained. "You are too focused on what is visible. Your spider-sense is more than a tingling in your head. It is a network of invisible threads, a precognition of danger. It is the Way of the Spider."
Takuya's spider-sense was Garia's term for the precognitive ability to sense danger, like invisible threads of fate. It had always been a confusing static for Takuya, a vague hum rather than a clear warning. Garia's challenge was to make him translate that raw feeling into actionable insight.
"I can't just… see with it," Takuya said, fumbling with the blindfold. He tied it around his head. Darkness pressed in. The room vanished.
"You will not leave this room, Takuya," Garia's voice echoed, "until you land a single hit on me."
A single hit? With no sight?
"That's impossible."
"No," Garia said, his voice closer now, "it is not."
Takuya stood there, lost in the sudden, total dark. The air felt colder. Every sound sharpened. He could hear Garia breathing, steady and even, somewhere nearby. He could feel the floor beneath his feet. But the static in his head, his spider-sense, still felt like a distant buzz, not a map.
How do I even start?
I can't just… see with it.
He stood there, blindfolded. The Marveller's low hum filled the dark. Garia's breathing sounded nearby, then shifted.
He's moving.
Takuya threw a punch. His fist cut through empty air. A light tap hit his side.
He stumbled.
Too slow.
He tried again, a kick this time. His leg swished. Another tap, this one on his shoulder.
His body felt heavy, uncoordinated. His spider-sense gave him nothing but a faint, confusing buzz. It was like trying to catch smoke. He swung wildly, gritting his teeth.
Garia moved with a silent grace. A soft thwack landed on Takuya's ribs. It was not hard enough to hurt, just enough to show him he had missed. He lashed out, frustration building. His fist met only air again. Another precise tap landed on his leg. He almost fell.
This is useless. I can't hit him if I can't see him.
The thought screamed in his head. Garia's movements were fluid, like water. Takuya's were clumsy, all effort and no connection. He felt helpless. Each missed strike, each precise, light impact from Garia, chipped away at his patience. He could hear Garia's quiet movements, but they gave no clue to where the next touch would land.
I have to get this. For them.
The hits kept coming. Not hard, but enough to make him stumble, to remind him of his failure. Frustration boiled in Takuya's gut. It tasted like ash. He swung again, a wide, desperate arc. Empty air.
I can't do this.
He took a breath. A deeper, calmer feeling settled in. This wasn't about rage. It was about Nijika and Ryo. It was about his father.
He closed his eyes, even under the blindfold. He forced himself to ignore the memory of Garia's strikes. The hum of his spider-sense felt different. Not static, but faint threads. He reached out, not with his hands, but with his mind.
The next time Garia moved, Takuya didn't try to see or hear. He felt the thread, a specific vibration of danger, and moved. He struck out. An open-palmed hit connected squarely with Garia's shoulder.
Thwack!
Garia stopped. The air hung still.
"You felt it," Garia said, his voice quiet.
Takuya's chest heaved. He lowered his hand.
"I… I felt it."
Garia stood still, a quiet smile touching his lips. It was a rare sight, a gentle curve that smoothed the lines of his ancient face.
"You felt the thread, Takuya. That is the true beginning of the Way of the Spider."
Takuya pulled off the blindfold. Light flooded back into the room. He could see Garia clearly now. The alien's silver-blue eyes held a deep satisfaction.
"This understanding… it is the key to defeating Silvermane. He relies on brute force. You will use precision."
A surge of confidence ran through Takuya. Not the reckless kind, but a focused fire. He felt the hum of his spider-sense, different now, more defined.
I can do this.
"The Iron Cross Army would not take captives to their main base," Garia continued. "They would use a temporary holding area, a secondary location. You should be able to sense it."
Takuya nodded. His mind was already shifting, from defense to something more. He pictured Nijika's worried face, Ryo's detached calm.
They're out there. And I can find them.
He turned, his gaze fixed on the Marveller's bay. The GP-7 sat waiting, a sleek red blur in the dim light. He had to move. He had to act.
He ran to the Spider Machine GP-7. The cockpit felt familiar as he slid inside. His hands gripped the steering wheel.
The GP-7 roared to life. The sound vibrated through the floor.
He sped out of the Marveller. The forest blurred as he raced through it. The road ahead opened up. His spider-sense reached out, a net of invisible threads, searching. He would find them.
***
Advance Chapters on patreon.com/Najicablitz.
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