Throne Hall
The throne hall was silent, except for the distant echo of footsteps against polished marble. Tall columns cast vertical shadows, breaking the soft light that filtered through the narrow windows.
The golden crest of the Phoenix loomed high above, imposing, but the main chair remained empty.
The doors opened with restrained force. Hancock entered with an erect posture, her cape swaying with each step. Her eyes swept the space as if searching for something that should have been there.
"Riser..."
The name was spoken almost like a sigh, yet heavy with the weight of a wait far too long. She walked to the base of the throne's staircase, stopping there as if standing before a ghost.
Merlin observed from the side, seated on the armrest of an auxiliary chair, her expression neutral. Her fingers tapped lightly against the backrest, each beat echoing with an irritating delicacy in the hall's silence.
Hancock remained still at the foot of the throne, her eyes fixed on the empty seat as if at any moment it might be filled.
Her cape fell elegantly over her shoulders, but there was an almost theatrical urgency in the way she breathed.
"I haven't seen him in so long... it feels like an eternity has passed."
Merlin sighed, tilting her head slightly to the side.
"Hancock... it's been less than a day."
The empress turned her face with a faint lift of her brow, dismissing the accuracy.
"You don't understand. For me, every hour without him is like a year."
Merlin rolled her eyes, uncrossing her legs and resting an arm more firmly on the backrest.
"I understand perfectly. Which is why I'll tell you the truth: if you miss him that much, stop wandering around like some tragic heroine and go to bed. Wait like a good wife."
The word hung in the air like a freshly drawn blade. Hancock blinked once, her gaze locked on the mage, before straightening her posture. A sudden gleam crossed her face, replacing drama with sudden resolve.
Without answering, she spun on her heels and strode toward the doors. The sharp sound of her heels echoed through the hall, quickening until it faded into the corridor.
Silence reclaimed the space.
Merlin, alone now, rose and let herself drop onto the throne, occupying it as though it were any ordinary seat. Her right hand supported her face as she let out a long sigh.
"Useless drama..."
____
Kamui
Kamui remained still, yet heavy with tension. The solid ground supported Robin, still cloaked in the dark, dense mantle of Armament Haki. The black layer wrapped her arms, shoulders, and part of her torso, absorbing every blow she had taken moments before.
Her breathing was strong and rhythmic, but beginning to falter. Her muscles stayed taut, sustaining the Haki as if every second were a trial of will. The body was firm, but the heat within betrayed the continuous effort.
Slowly, the dark surface began to lose intensity. Gray fissures spread across the coating, the opaque tone fading until it dissolved completely, revealing skin still marked by training. Her breathing became clearer—not from exhaustion, but from the true weight of newly won control.
Riser watched closely. His eyes followed every detail of her stance, gauging her precision and endurance. There was satisfaction in the way he held his posture, the satisfaction of confirming that the result had exceeded expectations.
"Very good, Robin."
She raised her face, still controlling her breath, and inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment.
"Thank you, Master."
The silence of Kamui remained dense, but no longer oppressive. The marks on her arms and shoulders still told the story of each impact, but there was no pain that could make her step back.
'I will not fall behind anyone again.'
The thought rang like a newly forged vow. The weight of eternity did not frighten her—on the contrary, it felt liberating. Now, the body that once had human limits pulsed with strength in every muscle.
'Now I can protect myself. Against anyone. I won't wait to be saved anymore.'
The inner fire did not come only from training, but from the certainty that her bond with Riser was no longer a thread ready to snap. His presence, constant through the training, proved she was not being left behind again.
'He will not abandon me. Not now.'
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and one memory cut into her focus—the memory of Alvida. That cold expression, always one step ahead in missions and recognition.
'Alvida will see... she'll see she's been left behind again.'
Robin's face remained impassive, but inside there was satisfaction. The path was no longer about surviving on the margins—it was about taking her place at the center.
"Enough."
Riser's voice cut through her thoughts like a blade.
"You will return to your room."
Robin held her gaze steady, without hesitation. The tone of command was not disdain—it was the closing of training that had achieved its purpose. She inclined her head lightly, accepting.
Kamui responded to Riser's silent will. Distortions formed before her, a black vortex spinning with controlled smoothness. The sense of being surrounded by void no longer intimidated her. Now, it felt like a portal she too had earned the right to cross.
Robin walked through unhurriedly. The solid world of the Phoenix Nest reformed around her—her room, quiet and clean, welcoming her back.
She paused at the door, allowing herself a brief moment before moving on. Her shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. A faint, contained smile touched her lips. Not for anyone else to see—only for herself.
She crossed the room and disappeared through the side door, toward the bath.
From within Kamui, Riser observed. His gaze stayed fixed until the last second before she vanished from sight. His expression carried the confirmation that his role as master had been fulfilled perfectly.
The space returned to its characteristic stillness. Dimensional distortions pulsed softly, but the Mangekyō Sharingan captured everything beyond the void's walls. Riser shifted his focus to a distant point, where the Phoenix's golden throne came into view.
The hall was empty of guards, but not of presence. In the main seat, Merlin rested as though it were hers by right. One leg crossed over the other, chin propped against her hand, and a distant gaze that carried more boredom than arrogance.
Her hair brushed the backrest, the torchlight reflecting off the rings adorning her fingers. There was no arrogance in her demeanor, only the calm of one certain that none would dare contest her place there.
Riser did not linger long. His attention slid to another corner of the Nest, and the scene shifted to a more intimate chamber.
Hancock's room was dimly lit, only by the soft glow seeping through the curtains. On the bed, the empress rolled from side to side, her long black hair spread across the sheets. In her hands, one of his worn shirts, still carrying that distinct scent—a blend of fire's warmth and something faintly sweet.
She pressed it to her face, breathing in deeply and slowly, as if absorbing every trace of his presence. Her eyes were half-closed, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She moved on the bed as though the fabric were a physical bond, the last vestige of closeness until his return.
Riser watched from afar, the Mangekyō capturing every detail. The way she clutched that simple shirt made him reflect, not without a hint of unease.
'I didn't really do that much for her to be this obsessed... and yet, she looks at me as if I were the only meaning in her life.'
Her breathing quickened for a moment, as if imagining him there. Riser briefly turned his gaze aside, though he did not end the observation. Kamui responded to his silent command, and the portal began to form.
The black spiral opened in the center of Hancock's room. The distortion drew at the air, making the curtains ripple. The low hum of the vortex made her open her eyes, freezing for an instant.
When he appeared, her body reacted before her mind. She rose from the bed in a near-feline leap, her bare feet touching the rug without a sound. Her expression carried relief, desire, and a satisfied pride all at once.
"Riser..."
He stepped closer, his eyes sweeping quickly over the room before fixing on her. The shirt still in her hands caught his attention.
She bit her lip lightly, still holding the fabric, but not hiding what she had been doing.
"You're back."
Riser stopped in front of her, lifting his chin slightly. His voice came low, but firm.
"A hug from me is better than that shirt."
The blush on Hancock's cheeks deepened. She let the fabric fall onto the bed and stepped forward without hesitation. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, as though afraid he might vanish again.
The heat of her body pressed instantly against his, almost possessive. He remained still for a few seconds, feeling her breath against his neck.
'It's definitely frightening how attached she is.'
Hancock closed her eyes, savoring every moment. No words were needed now, only the certainty that she was finally where she wanted to be.
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