The group was split up across different parts of the village. Each person ended up in a strange-looking area with odd skies above them. The clouds in each spot had different colors—blue, red, green, yellow—almost like they matched each person's emotion.
It was all part of Nent's plan. He wanted them to struggle, to feel pressure. He wanted this test to push them hard, to break their mind.
---
Lumei stood in a clearing, alone. The sky above him was red. A strange figure stood in front of him. It looked like Nent, but with no clear face—just a shadow with a faint glow of aura. Lumei could feel it was weaker than the real Nent, but it still felt dangerous.
He held his short sword tightly in one hand, his body slightly bent, knees ready. Sweat dripped from his face, and his eyes were wide with fear.
"This is it... My first real fight," he whispered to himself.
He threw the blade straight at the clone. The figure dodged easily and knocked the sword away. Lumei's heart sank, but he didn't stop. He rushed forward with all his speed and punched the clone. The hit landed, but the clone didn't flinch—it just moved back a little.
Suddenly, the clone moved at the same speed Lumei had used and hit him back hard. Lumei's eyes widened as he flew backward and crashed to the ground.
"Ugh!" he groaned, blood in his mouth.
Before he could move, the clone jumped on top of him and began hitting him again and again. Lumei's body jolted with every blow. Blood splashed from his mouth and nose. He looked down and saw the ground stained red beneath him.
Thinking fast, he turned his head and made the clone hit him again—just hard enough to slide him across the blood-slick ground. He slid toward his sword.
He reached out, grabbed it, and slowly stood up, breathing heavily. Blood dripped from his face, but he gave a small grin.
"I'm not a killer," he said, eyes locked on the clone, "but I have to do this."
He raised the sword, focusing his energy. His aura burst out, wrapping around the blade and making it glow. The sword grew longer with the power, crackling with force.
With a shout, he dashed forward and slashed. The clone's body was cut cleanly—and blood poured out like a real human. The body collapsed.
Lumei dropped to one knee, clutching his side. His face showed a mix of pain, fear, and disbelief.
"It bled... it really bled…"
His hands trembled. His breath came out in ragged gasps.
Was this real? Was this some illusion that went too far? He'd been in fights before—but none like this. This wasn't training. This was death.
He stared at his bloodied sword, heart pounding in his ears.
"If this was just a test… why does it feel like murder?"
---
Sora and Chella were in completely different parts of the village, but their fighting styles were so similar.
Sora stood tall in a flooded area, water swirling at her feet. Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw was tight. A clone appeared in front of her.
Chella was in a rocky area, her hands clenched and her chest rising and falling with fast breaths. She also faced a faceless clone with a Nent-like aura.
Without knowing what the other was doing, they both did the same thing—they formed swords from their powers. Chella's was solid and rough—made from stone. Sora's was smooth and sharp—made from water.
Both of them ran toward their enemies, shouting as they attacked. The clones fought back, but Sora and Chella were too fast. They slashed through their targets at the same time.
The clones dropped to the ground. Blood spilled.
Sora stared down, wide-eyed. Her sword dropped a little.
Chella stepped back, hand covering her mouth. Her face turned pale.
"Why did it bleed?" she whispered.
They were both scared—not just from the fight, but from the fact they had taken a life. Even if it was a clone... it felt real.
---
Yamato stood calmly in his own space. The sky above him was clear—no color at all.
A clone appeared. It tried to make a move, but Yamato didn't waste a second.
He moved like lightning, slashing with his sword. The clone dropped in one hit. Blood pooled.
He sighed and muttered,
"Even a three-year-old wouldn't have trouble with you."
His face showed no emotion—just cold focus. He walked away, blade still dripping.
---
Ichiha wasn't given a clone.
Instead, he found himself in a quiet room with walls covered in old carvings and strange symbols. In front of him was a puzzle made of stone and metal—like a schedule.
He narrowed his eyes and looked closely. His fingers moved across the markings.
"This is... a plan," he muttered.
It wasn't just any plan. It was Kaku's plan—meant just for him. Ichiha was part of it. His uncle had made sure of that.
"So that's why I didn't get a clone…"
His face darkened, full of mixed emotions—anger, confusion, guilt.
---
Far away, Master Ozaki stood deep in thought. His face was tight with worry.
"Why didn't the seal work?" he whispered.
"And how... how is Kaku talking through Nent?"
Then, through Nent's body, the voice continued.
Ozaki's eyes widened as he heard the words.
"I've already gathered 70% of myself," Kaku said calmly. "Just two more pieces… and I'll be whole again."
Ozaki clenched his fists, teeth gritted.
"Where did your power come from?" he demanded.
There was silence for a moment.
Then Kaku answered, voice deeper and colder.
"I was nothing. My family laughed at me. I lived like a loser. I hated the world. I cursed life... and the god who put me in it."
"One day, a spark appeared in the sky. I thought I was going to die. But instead, I heard a voice."
Ozaki leaned in, heart pounding.
"'I am here for you,' it said. 'I need you to kill every potential god VESSEL on this planet.'"
"I asked if this was normal. And he told me, 'I have others like you in other galaxies, other dimensions.'"
"I told him—I wasn't a vessel."
"He said, 'Then I will give you 2% of my power.'"
"That 2%... made me what I am today."
Ozaki's jaw dropped slightly. His eyes shook.
"You mean... just 2% of that thing's power made you strong enough to rival me—the strongest vessel in the country?"
There was no reply.
Just a quiet, dark laugh echoing through the air.
And then silence.