[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]
"Master, what was that dark layer?"
Grayfia's voice cut through the courtyard's quiet like the edge of an icicle. The words weren't loud, but the weight behind them pressed down on me more heavily than the bruises already blossoming along my body.
Her gaze — sharp, silver, unblinking — was pinned to my right arm. The faint, almost oil-slick sheen of black was still there, crawling over my skin like liquid armour refusing to fade.
I exhaled slowly, the taste of iron on my tongue. "...Haki."
Her brows twitched, not disbelief, but a rare spark of something she usually locked behind her stoic mask. Curiosity.
"This is Haki, too? But it feels… different from the one you used in the Sanctuary of the Seven Vows. That was raw spiritual pressure — a field that dominated space itself. This—" her words sharpened, "—this one clings. It forms. It manifests like armour. Explain."
