Dawn at Zenkai Dojo had always carried the promise of structured excellence, each morning
bringing carefully orchestrated challenges designed to unlock potentials that students hadn't
known existed within themselves. The essence-formations throughout the complex hummed
with their familiar harmonics, creating an atmosphere where extraordinary achievement felt not
just possible but inevitable.
Itsuki woke to the gentle resonance that marked normal transitions between sleep and waking in
the dojo's essence-charged environment. His quarters adjusted automatically to his stirring
consciousness—lighting gradually increasing to optimal levels, air circulation shifting to
energizing frequencies, temperature calibrating to his body's needs with precision that spoke to
centuries of refinement in the facility's design.
Through his window, the impossible gardens stretched toward horizons that seemed to exist in
multiple dimensions simultaneously. Plants whose roots drew nourishment from parallel reality
streams swayed in breezes that carried harmonics of concentrated potential, their luminescent
blooms creating patterns that suggested meaning just beyond comprehension.
It was a morning that should have begun like any other in their second day of training.
The first sign that something had gone catastrophically wrong came not as sound but as
absence—the sudden cessation of Zenkai Dojo's omnipresent essence-harmonics, as if the
very heartbeat of the facility had simply stopped. In the silence that followed, Itsuki felt his
Abstract Shift ability react with alarm that seemed to bypass conscious thought entirely,
resonating with disturbances in reality's fundamental structure.
Then the screaming began.
Not human voices—though those would come soon enough—but something far more primal
and terrible. The sound that echoed across the dawn sky was the collective howl of creatures
whose very existence seemed to violate natural law, voices that carried harmonics of rage and
hunger that made the air itself feel hostile and threatening.
Itsuki rolled from his bed and rushed to the window, his ice-blue eyes widening as he took in a
sight that transformed his understanding of what was possible in their carefully ordered world.
The sky above Zenkai Dojo writhed with wings.
Verythra Beasts descended from the heavens in numbers that defied belief—creatures that had
existed at the edges of civilization for millennia as mysterious but largely benign entities,
respected for their power but known for their avoidance of human contact. They had never, in all
recorded history, shown aggression toward settlements or training facilities.
Now they came as harbingers of destruction.
The lead beast was massive beyond anything described in the bestiaries—easily Tier 3 in power
classification, its wingspan broad enough to cast shadows over entire buildings. Its hide seemed
to absorb light rather than reflecting it, creating patches of mobile darkness that moved
independently of its physical form. Most terrifying were its eyes—not the simple animal
intelligence that might be expected, but awareness that spoke to consciousness operating on
levels that transcended normal understanding.
Behind it came dozens of others, ranging from Tier 2 juveniles whose claws could shred steel to
massive adults whose mere presence seemed to distort space around their forms. Their
coordinated approach spoke to intelligence and purpose that made their assault infinitely more
dangerous than simple animal aggression.
The first impacts sent shockwaves through Zenkai Dojo's structure that Itsuki could feel in his
bones. Crystalline formations that had hummed with accumulated wisdom for centuries cracked
under the assault, their harmonic resonance fracturing into discordant screams that made the
very air painful to breathe. Buildings that had stood since the dojo's founding began to collapse
as creatures whose claws could cut through essence-charged stone tore through defensive
barriers like they were made of paper.
Itsuki grabbed his training clothes and rushed from his quarters, finding the dormitory corridors
filled with students in various states of panic and preparation. Some had managed to maintain
enough composure to dress properly, while others ran toward emergency stations wearing
whatever they had slept in, their essence-abilities sparking erratically in response to adrenaline
and terror.
"Where are Takumi and Kairo?" he called out to a passing student whose name he hadn't
learned but whose ice-based abilities were creating a trail of frost in his wake.
"Squad One dormitory took a direct hit!" the student shouted back without stopping. "Eastern
wing collapsed twenty minutes ago!"
The words hit Itsuki like a physical blow, driving him into motion with desperate urgency. If his
squadmates were trapped in collapsed buildings while verythra beasts continued their assault,
every second of delay could mean the difference between rescue and tragedy.
The route to the eastern dormitory wing revealed the true scale of the catastrophe unfolding
around them. Everywhere Itsuki looked, the careful order that had defined Zenkai Dojo was
dissolving into chaos. Training arenas had become impromptu battlegrounds where instructors
and advanced students fought desperate holding actions against creatures whose power
exceeded anything their academic exercises had prepared them to face.
In one courtyard, he saw Instructor Kellen locked in combat with a Tier 2 verythra, her
essence-manipulation creating barriers and weapons from crystallized air while the beast's
claws left gouges in stone that glowed with residual destructive energy. Her technique was
flawless, her tactical awareness perfect, but even she was clearly being pushed to her limits by
an opponent whose capabilities existed outside conventional parameters.
"Students, evacuation protocol seven!" Master Ayame's voice echoed from speakers throughout
the complex, her normally composed tone carrying undertones of strain that spoke to
challenges extending beyond anything the dojo's emergency procedures had anticipated.
"Advanced students, defensive formation around primary escape routes! First-years, seek
shelter in designated safe zones until evacuation becomes possible!"
But even as the instructions were given, explosions from various parts of the complex
suggested that designated safe zones were becoming increasingly theoretical concepts. The
verythra assault was comprehensive and coordinated, targeting not just buildings but the
essence-infrastructure that powered the dojo's defensive systems.
Itsuki reached the eastern wing to find devastation that exceeded his worst expectations. What
had been a graceful architectural achievement just hours earlier was now a landscape of rubble
and twisted metal, with essence-charged support beams sparking erratically as their contained
power sought new paths to equilibrium. The dormitory where his friends had been sleeping was
buried beneath tons of crystalline debris that would require heavy equipment to clear.
"Takumi! Kairo!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the ongoing sounds of destruction
and combat echoing from across the complex.
From somewhere beneath the wreckage came a muffled response that might have been human
voices, but the sounds were too distorted by intervening debris to identify clearly. Itsuki began
pulling aside smaller pieces of rubble, using his Abstract Shift to make heavy stones "lighter" so
he could move them more easily, but the scale of the collapse was beyond what individual effort
could address.
A shadow passed overhead, followed by the whistle of displaced air that announced incoming
danger. Itsuki looked up to see another verythra beast descending toward his position—this one
smaller than the massive creature that had led the initial assault, but still clearly Tier 2 in power
classification. Its eyes fixed on him with predatory intelligence that suggested it understood
exactly what kind of threat a trained essence-user could represent.
The beast landed with impact that cracked the ground beneath its claws, its form resolving into
details that violated everything Itsuki thought he knew about natural creature design. Its hide
was covered in scales that seemed to shift between physical matter and pure energy, while its
wings bore membrane patterns that hurt to look at directly, as if they existed in too many
dimensions for normal sight to process comfortably.
But it was the creature's essence-signature that truly marked it as something beyond ordinary
classification. Rather than the simple life-energy that characterized normal animals, this beast
radiated something that felt like concentrated negation—not darkness, but the active absence of
light, not silence, but the deliberate suppression of sound.
Itsuki's Abstract Shift reacted to the creature's presence with alarm that seemed to bypass
conscious control, his ability resonating with disturbances in reality that suggested the beast's
very existence was somehow wrong on fundamental levels. The comfortable boundaries
between possible and impossible, natural and unnatural, were being challenged by something
that shouldn't have been able to exist within normal parameters.
The verythra moved with fluid grace that belied its massive size, circling him with the patience of
a predator that understood its prey had nowhere to run. Its claws left traces of that same wrong
essence wherever they touched, creating patches of ground that seemed to exist slightly
outside normal space and time.
"You cannot escape," it said, and the fact that it could speak at all transformed terror into
something approaching existential horror. Verythra beasts were not supposed to possess
language, intelligence, or the capacity for complex communication. They were powerful
creatures that occasionally threatened travelers in remote areas, but they were still
fundamentally animals operating on instinct and territorial impulse.
This was something altogether different.
"What are you?" Itsuki managed to ask, his voice steadier than he felt as he backed toward the
collapsed dormitory where his friends might still be trapped.
"We are the correction," the beast replied, its voice carrying harmonics that made the air around
them feel thick and oppressive. "The adjustment to errors that have persisted too long in the
fabric of reality itself."
It moved closer, and Itsuki could see that its eyes held depths that spoke to intelligence far
beyond animal consciousness—awareness that seemed to encompass understandings he
couldn't begin to comprehend. This was not a creature driven by hunger or territorial instinct, but
something operating according to purposes that transcended normal motivation.
"The experiment ends," it continued, raising claws that gleamed with essence-energy that felt
like concentrated wrongness. "The artificial stability maintained by those who call themselves
Trueborns has allowed corruptions to take root that threaten the fundamental nature of
existence itself."
Itsuki's Abstract Shift surged in response to the immediate threat, but his attempt to alter the
beast's conceptual "hostility" seemed to slide off its essence-signature without effect. Whatever
force had transformed these creatures into coordinated attackers had also made them resistant
to abilities that worked by manipulating abstract properties.
The verythra lunged with speed that turned its massive form into a blur of destructive motion.
Itsuki threw himself aside, feeling claws pass close enough to his face that the displaced air
carried the metallic taste of concentrated essence-energy. The creature's attack left gouges in
the ground that continued to spark with residual power, creating hazards that would persist long
after the immediate threat was resolved.
"Your power tastes wrong," the beast observed as it prepared for another attack, its head tilting
in a gesture that might have been curiosity. "Not natural essence, but something that seeks to
rewrite the fundamental laws that govern existence."
The comment struck Itsuki as particularly ominous, suggesting that whatever force had
corrupted these creatures understood his Abstract Shift's true nature better than he did himself.
If they could identify his ability as fundamentally different from normal essence-applications,
they might also possess countermeasures that conventional training had never prepared him to
handle.
The second attack came without warning, the beast moving with tactical intelligence that spoke
to combat experience rather than simple animal aggression. It feinted left before striking right,
its claws seeking to exploit the opening created by Itsuki's defensive positioning. Only desperate
application of his Abstract Shift—making himself "smaller" to fit through gaps that shouldn't have
accommodated his normal size—allowed him to avoid strikes that would have proven
immediately fatal.
But each use of his ability seemed to drain his essence-reserves more rapidly than normal, as if
the wrongness radiating from the verythra was interfering with his power's normal operation.
The comfortable predictability of his training exercises was being replaced by scenarios where
his most fundamental capabilities were being systematically neutralized.
From somewhere in the distance came the sounds of other battles—essence-techniques being
applied at scales that suggested instructors and advanced students were engaging threats that
pushed their capabilities to absolute limits. Explosions of fire and light marked where
Takumi-like abilities were being used for lethal rather than training purposes, while spatial
distortions indicated teleportation techniques being applied under desperate circumstances.
"Submit," the verythra commanded, its voice carrying authority that seemed designed to bypass
conscious resistance and connect directly with primal survival instincts. "The transformation is
inevitable. Your resistance only prolongs suffering that serves no purpose."
"Transformation into what?" Itsuki demanded, using his Abstract Shift to make the rubble around
him "harder" in hopes of creating weapons or barriers that could provide some tactical
advantage.
"Correction," the beast replied, its silver eyes holding depths that spoke to experiences
spanning far longer than any mortal lifetime. "Return to the natural order that existed before
artificial interventions corrupted the flow of essence through reality."
The implications were staggering. If these creatures represented some kind of natural correction
to what they perceived as artificial manipulation of reality, then the entire structure of Virelian
civilization—the Trueborns, the kingdoms, the careful cultivation of essence-abilities—was being
challenged by forces that considered it fundamentally wrong.
The verythra's third attack came with finality that suggested its patience was exhausted. It
launched itself forward with power that cracked the ground beneath its feet, claws extended to
deliver strikes that would end the confrontation regardless of Itsuki's defensive capabilities. Time
seemed to slow as he watched death approaching with mathematical precision.
His Abstract Shift surged desperately, trying to alter the concept of "fatal" to something
survivable, but the beast's wrongness-signature continued to interfere with his ability's normal
operation. He could feel his power fragmenting, its usual fluid responsiveness becoming erratic
and unpredictable in ways that promised catastrophic failure at the worst possible moment.
The killing blow was descending when shadow itself seemed to solidify between predator and
prey.
A staff of absolute black materiality intercepted claws that could shred steel, the impact sending
shockwaves through the air that made reality ripple like disturbed water. The verythra's
momentum carried it past Itsuki's position, its surprise at encountering unexpected resistance
evident in the way its coordinated attack dissolved into confused recovery movements.
Standing where empty air had been moments before was a figure whose presence seemed to
draw light and sound into itself, creating zones of carefully controlled shadow that moved in
response to his will. Argenti Archer had arrived with the kind of perfect timing that suggested
either supernatural awareness or tactical planning that operated on levels beyond normal
comprehension.
"Interesting," Argenti observed, his voice carrying the kind of calm that suggested he had faced
situations like this before. "A corrupted verythra operating with coordinated intelligence.
Someone has been experimenting with forces they don't understand."
His staff—a construct of essence-charged obsidian that seemed to exist in more dimensions
than normal sight could perceive—moved in patterns that created barriers of crystallized
shadow between the beast and its intended prey. The weapon's surface was covered in
symbols that shifted and flowed like living text, each marking apparently serving specific
functions in the complex technique he was employing.
The verythra recovered from its surprise with frightening speed, its silver eyes focusing on this
new threat with tactical assessment that confirmed its possession of intelligence far beyond
animal consciousness. It circled them both with predatory grace, seeking weaknesses in
Argenti's defensive positioning while maintaining awareness of Itsuki's location and potential for
unexpected intervention.
"Nightborne practitioner," the beast acknowledged, its voice carrying notes of what might have
been respect. "Your arts draw from sources that predate the corruptions we seek to correct. You
need not be our enemy in this cleansing."
"Tempting offer," Argenti replied with dry humor that seemed completely at odds with the mortal
danger surrounding them. "But I'm afraid my obligations extend beyond personal survival. The
students under this institution's protection include individuals whose development serves
purposes you cannot comprehend."
His gaze flicked briefly to Itsuki, and in that moment of eye contact, something passed between
them—not telepathic communication, but recognition of shared understanding that extended
beyond the immediate crisis. Argenti saw something in him that others missed, understood
implications of his Abstract Shift that even he didn't fully grasp.
The verythra's patience exhausted itself with predatory efficiency. It launched a coordinated
assault that revealed combat capabilities extending far beyond what any creature should
naturally possess—claws that left tears in space itself, wings that generated wind-shears sharp
enough to cut stone, and essence-techniques that suggested training rather than instinct.
Argenti's response was a masterpiece of controlled lethality. His staff moved in patterns that
seemed to dance with shadows, each strike creating zones of crystallized darkness that
intercepted the beast's attacks while simultaneously positioning for counterstrikes that exploited
openings the creature didn't know it was creating. His Nightborne Arts transformed combat into
something approaching performance art—deadly, precise, and beautiful in its execution.
But even his Tier 4 capabilities were being pushed to their limits by an opponent whose power
had been enhanced beyond natural parameters. The verythra's attacks came with increasing
desperation and fury, its tactical intelligence adapting to Argenti's techniques with speed that
suggested experience fighting opponents of similar skill.
"Your friend requires assistance," Argenti called out to Itsuki between defensive maneuvers, his
voice maintaining its characteristic calm despite the mortal danger surrounding them. "The
collapsed structure has created essence-interference that's preventing normal rescue
techniques. Your ability might be uniquely suited to addressing the problem."
Understanding flooded through Itsuki with crystalline clarity. The rubble trapping his squadmates
wasn't just physical debris—it was essence-charged material whose contained power was
creating interference patterns that blocked conventional rescue attempts. But his Abstract Shift
operated on conceptual rather than physical levels, potentially allowing him to alter the
fundamental nature of the obstacles rather than simply moving them.
He focused his ability on the collapsed section where he had heard possible responses to his
earlier calls, concentrating on changing the conceptual relationship between "trapped" and
"accessible." The technique required levels of precision and control that pushed his
understanding of his power to new limits, but desperation provided motivation that normal
training exercises could never match.
The rubble began to shift—not moving physically, but becoming permeable to human passage
while maintaining its structural integrity. Spaces that had been impossible to navigate suddenly
offered clear paths, as if the debris had decided to cooperate rather than obstruct rescue efforts.
"Takumi!" Itsuki called out as he worked his way through passages that his Abstract Shift had
made possible.
"Here!" came a familiar voice from deeper in the wreckage, followed by coughing that suggested
breathing difficulties but not immediate mortal danger.
Itsuki followed the sound through spaces that existed only because he had convinced reality
that they should, his ability maintaining the conceptual alterations that kept the rescue route
stable. The effort was exhausting in ways that purely physical work never could be—each
moment required conscious will to maintain changes that reality kept trying to reverse.
He found Takumi trapped beneath a section of collapsed ceiling, the redhead's golden eyes
bright with pain but still conscious and aware. His Essence Flare was sparking erratically around
his hands, his body's natural response to injury and stress creating heat distortions that made
the air around him shimmer like summer mirages.
"Can't move my legs," Takumi reported with characteristic directness. "Something's pinning
them, but I can't see what from this angle."
A quick examination revealed that a fallen beam of essence-charged stone was pressing
against his lower body—not heavy enough to cause crushing injury, but positioned in a way that
prevented him from extracting himself through normal movement. Itsuki used his Abstract Shift
to make the beam "lighter," reducing its conceptual weight to the point where Takumi could push
it aside with his remaining strength.
"Kairo?" Itsuki asked as he helped his friend to his feet, noting the way Takumi favored his right
leg but seemed capable of movement.
"Deeper in," Takumi replied, gesturing toward passages that led further into the collapsed
structure. "He was trying to teleport people out when the ceiling came down. His
essence-signature is still active, but I lost contact with him about ten minutes ago."
Finding Kairo required following the traces of spatial distortion that marked where teleportation
had been used recently. The amber-haired boy had clearly been attempting to evacuate other
students when the collapse occurred, his characteristic selflessness leading him into danger
rather than away from it.
They found him in what had been a common area, standing protectively over two younger
students whose names Itsuki didn't recognize but whose terror was evident in their wide eyes
and trembling forms. Kairo's amber eyes held the kind of exhausted determination that came
from pushing abilities beyond safe limits, his Void Step clearly strained from repeated
applications under emergency conditions.
"Path's clear," Itsuki called out, gesturing toward the route his Abstract Shift had created through
the rubble. "Can you manage teleportation for all of us?"
"One trip," Kairo replied, his voice tight with effort. "Maybe two if we're lucky. My
essence-reserves are nearly depleted."
The evacuation required coordination that tested all their recently developed teamwork skills.
Takumi used his controlled fire to provide illumination and clear away smaller obstacles, while
Itsuki maintained the conceptual alterations that kept their escape route viable. Kairo gathered
the group and executed a series of short-range teleportations that brought them progressively
closer to open air and safety.
They emerged from the collapsed dormitory to find Zenkai Dojo transformed into a warzone.
The beautiful gardens where reality had been negotiable were now scarred battlegrounds where
instructor-led resistance met verythra assault with devastating results. Essence-techniques that
Itsuki had only read about in theoretical texts were being applied with lethal intensity, creating
effects that rewrote local physics and left lasting changes in the environment.
"This way!" Sayaka's voice cut through the chaos, her violet eyes bright with tactical
assessment as she coordinated evacuation efforts for their scattered squad. Her Veinlock ability
was being used to neutralize smaller verythra that had infiltrated the ground-level courtyards,
her precise strikes paralyzing creatures long enough for other students to escape their
immediate threat range.
As they regrouped, the true scale of the catastrophe became apparent. This wasn't just an
attack on Zenkai Dojo—similar assaults were occurring simultaneously across multiple training
institutions throughout Astralyn. Communication systems that connected the various dojos were
reporting coordinated verythra attacks on scales that defied explanation, with creatures that had
never shown aggression toward human settlements suddenly operating with military precision
and shared objectives.
"Why now?" Takumi demanded, his fire-touched nature making him particularly responsive to
the emotional chaos surrounding them. "Verythra have coexisted with civilization for centuries.
What changed?"
"Someone changed them," Argenti's voice answered as he approached their position, his staff
still crackling with residual energy from his ongoing combat with the massive Tier 3 beast. His
normally immaculate appearance showed signs of strain—small tears in his dark clothing,
essence-burn marks on his hands, and the kind of controlled exhaustion that came from
sustained application of advanced techniques.
"Changed them how?" Sayaka asked, her captain's training engaging with the strategic
implications of coordinated assault by previously neutral entities.
"Corrupted their essence-signatures," Argenti explained, his calm tone carrying undertones of
concern that suggested the situation was even more serious than it appeared. "Someone with
capabilities extending far beyond normal essence-manipulation has been systematically altering
these creatures' fundamental nature, transforming them from neutral entities into coordinated
weapons."
The explanation raised questions that none of them were prepared to answer. Who possessed
the power to corrupt creatures on such a massive scale? What purposes could such an assault
serve? And why target training institutions specifically, rather than military installations or
population centers?
"We need to reach the primary evacuation point," Argenti continued, gesturing toward the
western complex where Master Ayame was coordinating defensive efforts. "The assault pattern
suggests this is preliminary rather than primary—they're testing responses and gathering
intelligence for something larger."
As they moved through the devastated dojo grounds, Itsuki found himself thinking about the
timing of the attack. Just days after Mizuko's warning about forces stirring that had remained
dormant for millennia, creatures that had never shown aggression were mounting coordinated
assaults with tactical sophistication that suggested outside influence.
The connection seemed too precise to be coincidental.
"Argenti," he called out as they navigated through a courtyard where fallen crystalline formations
had created a maze of essence-charged obstacles. "Could this be connected to what Mizuko
warned us about? The dormant forces she mentioned?"
The Tier 4 warrior's expression grew more serious, his dark eyes holding depths that suggested
knowledge he wasn't ready to share completely. "The timing would certainly suggest
correlation," he replied carefully. "But the implications of that connection extend beyond what
students should be concerning themselves with during active crisis situations."
His evasiveness was answer enough. Whatever was happening represented more than simple
creature aggression—it was part of larger forces that threatened the fundamental stability of
their world, challenges that would require responses from warriors whose capabilities existed at
the very pinnacles of possibility.
As they approached the western complex, the sounds of combat grew more intense rather than
diminishing. Advanced students and instructors were engaged in battles that pushed the very
boundaries of what organized resistance could accomplish, their combined techniques creating
effects that transformed the landscape around them into something that barely resembled the
peaceful training facility it had been just hours earlier.
"There," Sayaka pointed toward a partially intact building where Master Ayame could be seen
coordinating evacuation efforts while simultaneously maintaining defensive barriers against
aerial assault. "If we can reach the master, she can provide strategic assessment of our
options."
But even as she spoke, another wave of verythra descended from the sky—reinforcements that
suggested the initial assault had been successful enough to warrant escalation. These
creatures were larger than the first wave, their essence-signatures radiating power that made
the air around them feel hostile to human existence.
And at their head flew something that challenged Itsuki's understanding of what verythra could
become when properly corrupted. A massive creature whose wings seemed to be made of
crystallized shadow, whose eyes held intelligence that might have belonged to a being of
Trueborn-level awareness, and whose very presence seemed to create distortions in reality that
made direct observation difficult and dangerous.
"Tier 4," Argenti observed with clinical detachment, though his grip on his staff tightened in
preparation for combat that would test even his advanced capabilities. "Possibly approaching
Tier 5 classification. This is no longer a creature that can be fought through conventional
means."
The massive verythra settled onto the western complex's highest tower with impact that sent
structural vibrations through every building in the immediate area. When it spoke, its voice
carried across the entire dojo with authority that demanded attention from every living being
within range.
"Children of corruption," it announced, its words hitting the air with physical force that made
weaker students stagger. "Your artificial development ends here. Return to the natural order, or
be returned to it through methods you will find considerably less comfortable."
The threat hung in the air like a promise of transformation that would accept no refusal. Around
them, the battle for Zenkai Dojo continued with increasing desperation as defenders realized
they were facing opponents whose capabilities exceeded everything their training had prepared
them to handle.
But as Itsuki looked up at the massive creature whose presence seemed to challenge reality
itself, he felt his Abstract Shift responding to something beyond conscious control—recognizing
patterns in the wrongness that surrounded the verythra, identifying possibilities for intervention
that existed in the spaces between what was and what could be.
The onset of shadows had begun, but perhaps the light of understanding was beginning to
emerge as well.
The real battle was just beginning.