[Katsuya Akiya (MC) POV]
The blinding white light of the dimensional transfer faded, replaced instantly by the dry, baking heat of a bustling city street.
I took a step forward, the red leather of my gloves creaking slightly as I adjusted the cuffs of my white suit. I glanced around at the twisted, gothic architecture of Death City.
The cobblestone roads curved at impossible angles, and the buildings leaned against each other like crooked, jagged teeth.
Then, I looked up.
Staring down from the sky was the sun. A massive, cackling yellow sphere with a manic grin, a pointed nose, and a mouth that looked like it was literally drooling light. It let out a bizarre, echoing chuckle that vibrated through the air.
I stared at it for a long beat, a wave of genuine regret hitting me.
Man, I thought, suppressing a tired sigh. I really wish I could've seen Shinra.
"Katsuya! Over here!"
I lowered my gaze. Jogging through the crowd was Maka, her signature trench coat fluttering behind her. Walking beside her with a lazy, hands-in-pockets slouch was a guy with spiky white hair and a yellow-and-black jacket.
"Hey," I said, raising a gloved hand as they reached me.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" Maka said, offering a bright, welcoming smile. She gestured to the guy beside her. "This is my partner, Soul Evans."
"Yo," Soul grunted. He looked me up and down, his expression unreadable behind his headband. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and offered it.
"Nice to meet you," I replied, reaching out and giving his hand a firm, standard shake.
To me, it was just a handshake. But the second we made contact, Soul's entire body went rigid. His red eyes blew wide, and he stared at our joined hands like I was holding a live wire.
Before I could even blink, Soul abruptly yanked his hand back. He didn't say a word to me; he just reached out, grabbed Maka by the shoulder, and hauled her several feet away into a frantic, whispered huddle.
I just stood there, adjusting the edge of my mask. "Uh... okay?"
———
[Maka Albarn POV]
"Soul! What is wrong with you?!" I hissed, trying to swat his hand away as he dragged me toward the wall of a crooked brick building. "That was incredibly rude! He's our guest!"
"Maka, shut up and listen for a second," Soul whispered, his voice low and unusually tense. He glanced back at Katsuya, who was just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking confused. "Did you feel that? When I touched him?"
I blinked, my frustration turning into
confusion. "Feel what? I didn't feel anything."
"I felt a resonance," Soul muttered, his brow furrowing as he stared at me. "But it's weird. His soul and your soul... they're shaped completely differently. But the wavelength? It's perfectly matched. I mean, it's uncannily matching. Like looking at two sides of the same coin."
I froze.
Different shapes, but perfectly matched. My mind started racing. I knew we were the same person at our core, but hearing it quantified by a Weapon's senses made it startlingly real. A soul's shape reflected the individual—their experiences, their nature.
If his wavelength was an exact, uncanny match to mine, what made his soul shaped differently?
Was it the different life he had lived? The sheer volume of raw power he possessed? Or was it the fact that he was the original male core, while I was just an offshoot placed in this world?
I swallowed hard, my thoughts spiraling. A perfectly matching wavelength meant absolute, flawless compatibility. It was a level of intimacy that took Meisters and Weapons years to build, and we just possessed it naturally.
A sudden, intense heat rushed to my cheeks. My mind flashed back to the messages in the system chat. Koneko, Esdeath, Scathach... they were all aggressively lusting after him. If our souls were perfectly, uncannily matched, did that mean I was hardwired to feel that same pull?
Was it an inevitable side-effect of being around him?
I stared at the cobblestones, my face burning bright red as I completely lost myself in the overwhelming implications of my own soul mechanics.
A few feet away, Katsuya just stood there alone in his sharp white suit, looking up at the laughing sun with a bored, deadpan expression, waiting for us to finish whispering.
I squeezed my eyes shut, aggressively shaking my head to clear the sudden, overwhelming spiral of thoughts. Stop it, Maka. You're overthinking this. He's just a guest here to get some food, not a puzzle you need to solve right this second.
I took a deep breath, physically forcing the heat out of my cheeks, and turned around to tell Soul to drop the subject and act normal.
But Soul wasn't standing next to me anymore.
I blinked, looking around the alleyway. He was already back over by Katsuya. And he wasn't acting cautious, analytical, or intimidated by the matching wavelength at all. He was pointing at Katsuya's face, his posture completely losing its lazy slouch as he leaned in with a completely uncharacteristic, eager energy.
He was literally fanboying.
My eye twitched. After yanking my arm, dragging me into an alley, and throwing my brain into a complete existential loop about our souls, he was just going to leave me standing here like an idiot so he could obsess over Katsuya's outfit?!
"Soul..." I growled under my breath. My hands balled into tight fists at my sides. The embarrassment instantly evaporated, replaced by a massive spike of pure, unfiltered annoyance.
I stomped toward them, the heavy soles of my boots clicking sharply against the cobblestones with every angry step.
———
[Katsuya Akiya (MC) POV]
I was still staring up at the drooling sun when the white-haired weapon suddenly strolled back over to me. He had completely dropped the serious, guarded attitude from a minute ago.
"So," Soul started, leaning in a little closer to inspect my face. He pointed a finger at my mouth. "I gotta ask. That mask. The zipper design over the teeth... is it functional? Or just for the aesthetic? Because I'm not gonna lie, man, it is incredibly cool."
"It works," I said calmly, tapping the leather near my jaw. "You can unzip it to eat or drink. A friend made it for me. It's mostly for the aesthetic, though."
"That is so cool," Soul muttered, a genuine, starry-eyed respect breaking through his usual cool-guy persona. He looked at the eyepatch, then back at the zipper. "Do you think she could make me one? Or maybe a jacket with that kind of leather—"
"Soul Evans!"
Soul completely froze. He peeked over my shoulder.
Maka was power-walking toward us, a dark, terrifying aura practically radiating off her frame. Her green eyes were locked onto her partner with lethal, unwavering intent.
Without a single second of hesitation, Soul ducked directly behind my back. He grabbed the shoulders of my white suit jacket, crouching down slightly to use my body as a human shield.
Maka stomped right up to us, stopping inches away. She planted her hands firmly on her hips, her trench coat flaring out slightly from the abrupt halt. She glared fiercely at the white-haired boy cowering behind my shoulder.
"Soul," Maka ordered, her voice dangerously flat. "Stop hiding behind Katsuya right now."
"I'm not coming out," Soul muttered from directly behind me, his hands still gripping the shoulders of my jacket. "You have that look in your eye. I value my brain cells."
"You don't have any brain cells left to value!" Maka yelled, stepping to the left to try and grab him.
Soul instantly mirrored her movement, shuffling to the right so my body remained perfectly between them. I just stood there, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, completely indifferent to being used as a human barricade in the middle of the sidewalk.
"You can't just drag me into an alley, trigger a massive existential crisis, and then ditch me so you can fanboy over a leather mask!" Maka scolded, pointing an accusatory finger at my shoulder—or rather, the Weapon cowering behind it.
"I was establishing a rapport!" Soul argued from behind my back. "It's called networking, Maka! Plus, look at his aesthetic! The man knows how to dress. I'm just trying to take notes so I don't look like a total scrub next time we fight a Kishin!"
"You always look like a scrub!" Maka shot back. She reached into her trench coat and pulled out a heavy, hardcover book seemingly out of nowhere. She raised it menacingly. "Now step away from our guest before I cave your skull in!"
"Whoa, hey, let's not resort to domestic violence here!" Soul panicked, his grip tightening on my jacket. "Besides, you better watch your attitude! You can't just boss me around right now!"
Maka stopped, lowering the book just a fraction. Her eye twitched. "Excuse me? And why is that?"
"Because," Soul said, his voice taking on a smug, defensive edge as he peeked out from behind my arm. "I felt his wavelength, remember? It's a perfect match. Uncannily perfect. Honestly, with a frequency that dialed in, I could probably be wielded by him instead of you!"
The street went completely dead silent.
I blinked my single exposed eye, looking between the two of them. I hadn't really considered wielding Soul, mostly because I already had Cerberus and the Blazefire Saber in my inventory, but the mechanics of it made logical sense if we shared the exact same soul.
Maka, however, did not take the comment well.
Her face instantly flushed a dark, violent shade of red. It was a mix of sheer embarrassment from the reminder of our matching souls, and absolute, volcanic anger at her partner's blatant disrespect. She gripped the spine of her hardcover book with both hands, her knuckles turning white.
"Fine!" Maka screamed, her voice echoing loudly down the twisted cobblestone street. "Then go for it!"
Maka was fuming, her arms crossed so tightly she looked like she might vibrate right out of her trench coat. She wasn't lift a finger to help, her pride clearly wounded by Soul's suggestion that I might be a "better fit."
"Alright, look," Soul said, stepping away from the wall and dropping his defensive stance. He looked at me, his sharp teeth bared in a grin that was half-excitement and half-nerves. "Since she's decided to be a brat, I'll walk you through it. Soul Resonance isn't about forcing your power into me. It's about rhythm. You find the beat of my soul, I find yours, and we play the same song until the sound gets loud enough to tear the world apart."
I adjusted my red gloves, feeling the weight of the air in Death City. It felt heavy with static. "Find the rhythm. Sounds simple enough."
"It's not," Maka chimed in from the sidelines, her voice sharp. "If your wavelengths aren't perfectly aligned, you'll reject each other. The feedback alone can stop your heart."
"Yeah, well, we already know we're 'uncannily' matched, right?" Soul winked at me, then closed his eyes.
I took a deep breath, focusing inward. Usually, I used the system to navigate my power, but this was different. This was raw. I reached out, not with my hands, but with that core part of me that linked me to Maka, to Esdeath, to everyone in the chat.
I felt it. A pulse.
It was a jagged, cool, and rebellious beat—low and steady like a bass guitar. That was Soul. I let my own wavelength—the steady, white-hot hum of the core Katsuya—expand until it touched his.
The air around us began to hum. A pale blue light flickered at our feet, swirling into a miniature cyclone of spiritual energy. It was working. The resonance was building, the frequency climbing higher and higher until my ears started to ring. Soul's physical body began to shimmer, dissolving into the light as he prepared to transform.
"Here we go!" Soul's voice echoed, layered with my own. "Resonance... start!"
———
[Soul Evans POV]
The world of physical matter snapped away. Usually, when I resonate with Maka, the 'Void'—the inner space of our combined souls—is a dark, warm place. It's a stage, or a quiet room, or sometimes a stormy sky. It's familiar. It's home.
But the second I linked with Katsuya, the floor didn't just drop out; the entire universe felt like it inverted.
"What the...?"
I stood in a space that felt impossibly vast. It wasn't dark. It was a blinding, sterile grey-white that stretched on forever. The air smelled like ozone and old parchment. This wasn't a normal Meister's soul. This was something ancient. Something heavy.
I looked around, my boots clicking against a floor that looked like frozen smoke. Then, the environment began to shift. The white fog rolled back, revealing something in the center of the void that made my blood run cold.
It was massive. It towered over the landscape, thousands of feathers shimmering with a dull, ethereal light. They weren't just wings—it was an absolute mountain of them, piled and layered in a chaotic, beautiful, and terrifying mass that seemed to breathe with a slow, agonizing rhythm.
At the very center of the pile, a single, piercing red eye flickered open, staring through the feathers.
I should have been terrified. I should have pulled back and broken the resonance right then. But I felt that pull—that uncanny, ancestral tug in my gut.
I started walking. My legs moved on their own, my boots thudding softly against the misty ground as I approached the monolithic pile of wings.
"Hey..." I called out, my voice sounding small in the infinite white space. I reached out a hand, my fingers inches away from the shimmering down of a giant, snow-white primary feather. "Are you... the one? Are you Katsuya?"
Like snow vaporizing in an instant, the massive, chaotic pile blew away into the grey-white ether, leaving the center of the void completely empty.
Except for one thing.
Hovering just a few inches above the misty floor was a small figure. It looked like a tiny, fragile angel, no larger than a child.
Sprouting from its back was an immense, beautiful array of twelve pristine white wings—six on each side. It opened its eyes, revealing a single, piercing red iris that locked directly onto me.
The small angel blinked, its expression twisting into one of genuine, absolute surprise.
"You are not my owner," a voice echoed, though the angel's mouth didn't move. The sound vibrated directly in my skull, sounding ancient and incredibly tired. "How are you here?"
"I... I don't know," I stammered, taking a cautious step back. "We resonated. Who are you? Are you Katsuya's soul?"
"I am a part of him now," the angel replied, its twelve wings fluttering softly, kicking up a breeze of cold ozone. "But I am not him. I am nothing more than a parasite. A weapon bound to his blood and bone."
I stared at the creature, completely confused. A parasite? I was a Weapon, and I knew what residing in a Meister's soul felt like, but this thing felt entirely different. It felt cold and yet warm at the same time.
The small angel floated closer to me. It reached out a tiny, pale hand. Resting in its palm was a single, glowing white feather.
"Take this," the parasite whispered. "A fragment. A gift for the one who shares his frequency."
Before I could even reach for it, the feather floated upward, drifting gently through the grey space until it pressed directly into the center of my chest. It didn't hurt. It just sank through my clothes and skin, dispersing completely into my body with a faint pulse of warm light.
I waited, bracing myself for a surge of power, a change in my wavelength, or some kind of intense physical reaction.
Nothing happened. I didn't feel any different. I just felt... weird.
"Wait, what did you just do to me?" I asked, looking up.
But the angel was gone. The white wings, the piercing red eye, the misty floor—it all shattered like glass, pulling me violently back into the physical world.
———
[Katsuya Akiya (MC) POV]
The blinding blue cyclone of our soul resonance shattered outward, a rush of displaced air blowing my white coat back.
I opened my eyes. Soul wasn't standing in front of me anymore. Instead, resting perfectly in the grip of my red leather gloves, was a massive, incredibly wicked-looking scythe. The shaft was a dark, sleek metal, and the blade itself was a jagged, aggressive sweep of black and red, complete with a single, glowing crimson eye near the base of the metal.
I adjusted my grip, feeling the balance.
Wow, I thought, genuinely impressed. This is actually really cool. It didn't feel like I was holding a heavy, cumbersome tool. It felt like an extension of my own arm. The connection between us was a deep, thrumming vibration that hummed right through my palms and directly into my chest
It was a completely different sensation from Cerberus or the Blazefire Saber.
"You feel that?" Soul's voice echoed clearly inside my head, sounding a little breathless but completely focused. "That's the rhythm. You've got a crazy strong wavelength, man. Alright, let's see what we can do. Just let go, trust my lead, and follow the beat."
I didn't overthink it. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, tuning out the noise of the city, and just let instinct take over.
I stepped forward, dropping into a low, completely fluid stance. With a flick of my wrists, I sent the massive scythe spinning. It twirled around my body in a blindingly fast, flawless arc, the heavy blade cutting through the air with a terrifying, hollow whistle. It felt completely natural, as if Soul and I had been practicing this exact routine for years.
I brought the scythe up, pivoting on my heel, and delivered a harsh, powerful slash directly into the empty air in front of me.
SWISH!
The sheer force of the swing tore a visible ripple through the air.
But that wasn't all it did.
From the empty space where the blade had just cut, a sudden, blinding burst of pure white feathers erupted. Hundreds of them materialized out of thin air, fluttering beautifully and gently around me in a chaotic, angelic snowfall.
I froze, lowering the scythe, completely mesmerized by the sudden display of magic.
But the second the pristine white feathers drifted down and made contact with the cobblestone street, the magic violently shifted. The moment they touched the ground, the pure white down instantly rapidly corrupted, turning pitch, inky black before dissolving into the pavement like shadows.
I stared at the spot where the black feathers had vanished.
A few feet away, Maka lowered her hardcover book, her jaw hanging slightly open as she stared at the exact same spot.
Even the glowing red eye on the scythe's blade blinked in utter bewilderment.
"…eh?" the three of us voiced in perfect, synchronized confusion.