Chiyo didn't wait to be invited in. The moment Kyren stepped aside, she walked in like she already lived there, dropped her half-eaten meat bun on the counter, and slapped a folded map onto the table.
"Here's where we train," she said.
Jamo leaned in. "That's the abandoned mall under the station."
Chiyo nodded. "Good acoustics. Bad security. No one will hear him scream."
"Comforting," Kyren said dryly.
She looked him up and down, unimpressed. "You swing like a drunk with a pipe dream. That spear might have chosen you, but it clearly regrets it."
> "She's not wrong," the voice in Kyren's head muttered.
Chiyo rolled her neck and tied her locs back with a strip of cloth that looked suspiciously like someone else's headband.
"Grab your gear. We leave in five."
---
The mall hadn't seen light in a decade. What remained was cracked tile, shattered escalators, and flickering security lights barely running off backup batteries.
"Nice," Kyren said, gripping his spear. "Romantic."
Chiyo smirked. "You bleed here, nobody cleans it up. So don't make a mess."
She took position ten feet away, dragging a chalk circle across the floor.
"Rule one," she said. "You don't win with power. You win with rhythm. The Laughing Devil Style doesn't care how strong you are. It wants timing, momentum, and chaos."
She beckoned. "Show me what you've got."
Kyren braced. Spear ready. Took a deep breath. He stepped forward, twisted his hips, and—
Got smacked in the ribs before he saw her move.
Chiyo twirled her short staff and stepped back. "Sloppy stance."
He coughed. "You didn't even wait—"
"No one will."
> "I like her," the voice said.
She didn't give him time to recover. Another flurry. Kyren ducked the first strike, blocked the second with the shaft, but her foot caught his shin and knocked him off balance.
He rolled back and forced himself up, panting.
"Again."
They went at it for an hour. His muscles screamed. Sweat soaked through his shirt. By the time she finally let him rest, he was on his back, eyes on the cracked ceiling.
"You're better than I thought," she said. "Which still isn't much. But hey—low bar."
Kyren groaned.
Chiyo sat nearby, sipping from a canteen. "Why did it choose you?"
"I didn't ask for it."
"Doesn't answer my question."
He sat up slowly. "All I ever wanted was to keep my brother safe. Maybe that was enough."
Chiyo watched him for a beat. "Most of the others who touched the Devil? They burned out. Too loud inside. Too much pressure. You're holding it together better than most."
"I'm not holding anything together."
She stood. "Then let's loosen it up."
---
Hours later, Kyren limped into the break room of the old arcade next door, carrying bruises in places he didn't know could bruise.
Jamo clapped. "You look like you lost a fight with a vending machine."
"Feels accurate."
Jamo handed him a towel and a can of something fizzy. "She teach you anything useful?"
Kyren thought about it. "I learned the floor is my friend."
"Hey," Jamo said, "small wins."
---
That night, Kyren slept hard. But it wasn't peaceful.
He stood in a black hallway lined with cracked mirrors.
Each reflection moved wrong—grinning when he didn't, raising their spears when he stayed still.
One stepped forward, red eyes glowing.
> "You still don't get it," it said.
Kyren lifted his weapon. "I'm trying."
The reflection lunged.
He countered.
They clashed—motion flowing like rhythm, the spear leading him, dragging him into patterns that didn't make sense until they did.
> "Technique Two: Echo Reversal."
Kyren shouted as he pivoted and slammed the spear down.
The reflection shattered.
---
He woke with a jolt.
The spear hovered above his bed, humming.
A small glyph glowed at the base—new.
Kyren stared at it.
"I think I learned something."
> "Took you long enough," the voice said. "You're finally improvising."
---
Back at the mall the next day, Kyren tried the move in real life.
Chiyo watched as he spun out of her reach and reversed a strike mid-air. She raised a brow. "Where'd you learn that?"
"I think… I dreamed it."
She grinned. "Then sleep more."
They were just getting started when it happened.
A loud boom shook the floor.
Then silence.
Kyren and Chiyo both turned.
From the escalator emerged a man in a coat too clean for the zone. His steps were deliberate. His smile was too wide.
Kyren's pulse spiked.
"Guild?"
Chiyo nodded, already shifting her stance. "Worse. Archivist."
The man tipped his head. "Kyren Omari. You're trending. The story's messy, so we're here to edit."
Kyren raised his spear.
Chiyo stepped beside him.
He looked at her. "Together?"
She smirked. "Let's teach him how you improvise."