The cage door creaked open.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Gira didn't rush out. Didn't perform. Didn't shout.
He just stood there, one hand still resting on the bars, like he was confirming something only he could feel.
Then he looked at me.
Not at the room. Not at the situation.
At me.
"…So this is your choice," he said quietly.
I frowned. "Choice?"
Gira exhaled through his nose, almost like a laugh without humor.
"You still stand like someone who expects the world to hit first."
"That's because it usually does."
"Then you are correct to stay guarded."
That was… not the response I expected.
The cage latch snapped open with a metallic click.
Yanma shifted slightly. "Okay, he's not doing the usual scream entrance. That's new."
Saba hummed. "He's thinking too much. I don't like that kind of silence."
Gira finally stepped forward.
Slow.
Measured.
Then he stopped halfway into the room.
"I am Gira Hastie," he said.
No shouting this time.
Just declaration.
"I am the one who rejects what this world calls order."
His hand moved.
Not frantic.
Precise.
He gripped the Ohger Calibur at his side.
The air changed immediately.
Not chaos.
Pressure.
Like the room itself was waiting to see what he decided to be.
Then—
He pulled the trigger.
[KUWAGATA!]
Light snapped around him.
Armor formed in clean segments, locking into place with controlled force instead of wild explosion.
[YOU ARE THE KING!]
The red mandible helm sealed over his face.
He raised the blade.
[KING'S ARMOR... FORTIFY!]
The mantle locked over his shoulders with a heavy metallic crash.
The room felt smaller.
But his voice still came through, steady.
"I will test you," he said. "Not break you."
A pause.
Then softer, almost like an afterthought meant only for me:
"If you fall… it means you were never standing at all."
And then he moved.
No warning.
No dramatic wind-up.
One instant he stood across the room. The next, red light tore through the space between us.
CLANG!
I barely got Saba up in time. The impact slammed through my arms so hard my fingers went numb. My heels skidded across the marble, carving ugly streaks into a floor that probably cost more than my entire life.
"He's fast!" Saba barked. "Useful observation."
Gira pressed forward, blade angled down, strength pouring through every inch of that strike. There was no rage in it. No cruelty. Just certainty.
"You hesitate," he said calmly through the helm. "Why?"
"Because I enjoy breathing."
I twisted hard, slipping the pressure aside just enough to stumble free. The second I regained footing, he was already there again.
Too fast.
The silver edge of the Calibur flashed for my ribs. I dropped low on instinct, the strike passing over my shoulder close enough for heat to kiss my skin.
My body moved before my brain did.
I drove Saba upward in a short, vicious arc.
CLANG!
Gira caught it with the flat of his blade and slid back half a step.
Interesting. He gave ground.
Yanma whistled from the side. "Yo. He didn't fold immediately. Progress."
"I hate your support style," I muttered.
Hymeno hadn't moved at all. She sat there watching like this was a medical trial with entertainment value. Which, to be fair, it probably was.
Gira straightened.
"You defend well," he said. "But defense alone is fear wearing discipline."
"That sounded smarter in your head."
He lunged again.
This time I was ready.
I met the strike head-on. Steel screamed against steel. Sparks burst between us. My shoulders nearly gave out, but I held.
Then something inside me shifted.
That same jagged energy from before. Hot. Restless. Looking for somewhere to go.
Saba's gem flickered.
"BJ," she said, suddenly serious. "Your core is surging. Either morph now or enjoy dying dramatically."
"Why are those always the options?"
"Because your life has poor planning."
Gira stepped back, blade lowering slightly. Even through the helmet, I could feel him studying me.
"Yes," he said quietly. "There it is."
He leveled the Calibur at my chest.
"Show me what you are holding back."
I exhaled, reached into my pocket, and pulled out the coin.
Cold metal pressed into my palm.
The jagged energy inside me reacted immediately, like it had been waiting for permission.
I tightened my grip on the coin.
Yanma leaned forward from the side. "Now we're talking."
Hymeno's eyes narrowed, studying every movement.
Saba's gem flickered. "Try not to explode."
"I know" I muttered.
I raised the coin.
White light snapped outward.
It wrapped around my body in a rush, forming the suit like a second skin. Pearlescent white layered with green and black lines that pulsed with unstable energy.
Then the weight came down.
The golden mantle crashed onto my shoulders with a heavy metallic thud, forcing my feet into the marble.
The pressure inside me steadied. Not gone. Controlled. Barely.
My right hand closed around Saba.
My left found the Dragon Dagger at my side like it had always belonged there.
Yanma let out a low whistle. "Still ridiculous."
Hymeno leaned forward slightly for the first time.
Gira rolled his shoulders once, then raised his blade.
"Good," he said. "Now stand as yourself."
I adjusted under the crushing weight of the mantle and stared back through the visor.
"Pretty sure this is the opposite of myself."
Then he charged.