The marble steps of the Serium Council Hall gleamed beneath the pale aquamarine light of suspended crystals. Shinjiru stood at the edge of the vast chamber, his violet aura barely contained, coiling around his arms like restrained lightning. His mother, Misaki Arakami, was at the center of the hall, kneeling before the Council. Even from a distance, her resolve was palpable—her shoulders straight despite the weight of accusation.
"Mother!" Shinjiru called out, but his voice was swallowed by the echoing chamber. He gritted his teeth. He had no right to interfere… at least, that's what the rules dictated. But the sight of her kneeling, facing judgment for protecting him, ignited a fury he could not contain.
The Council's leader, Tensei Raidon, the Golden Thunder, raised a hand, and the chamber fell silent. His piercing gaze swept over the room, finally settling on Misaki.
"Misaki Arakami," Tensei began, his voice resonant and unforgiving, "you stand accused of interfering with Himen processes, violating Rule 6, and endangering the balance of essence. How do you plead?"
Misaki's voice, calm yet firm, carried across the hall. "I acted to protect my son. I did not wish to disrupt the balance of essence, nor did I seek personal gain. All I desired was his safety."
A murmur ran through the chamber. Some Council members shifted uneasily; others' faces were hard, unyielding. Rules were rules—even compassion had its limits in the Serium Realm.
Ryuzen Kurohane, the Raven Strategist, stepped forward. "Human intervention is always a danger," he said coldly. "Even acts of love can corrupt essence. The precedent must be upheld, or our order falls into chaos."
Shinjiru felt a tremor in his chest. He clenched his fists, the chains of his kusarigama rattling softly. "You're punishing her… for saving me?" he muttered under his breath.
Aoi Hasegawa, the Head Healer, gave a small, sympathetic nod. "The Council cannot overlook interference, Shinjiru. But there is… nuance in human intent. Misaki's actions may not be entirely condemnable. That is why this trial exists—to measure intent versus impact."
Shinjiru's violet aura flared, and for a brief moment, the air shimmered around him. The chains on his kusarigama twined with the energy, sensing his growing determination.
The trial began with testimony. Miyu Kage presented detailed Essence Files, tracing the fragment of Himen energy that Haruto had bound to Shinjiru before birth. Evidence showed that Misaki had shielded him from exposure, protecting both her son and the Academy from unintended consequences.
"Her interference was strategic," Miyu explained. "She did not act recklessly. She acted to mitigate potential disaster. However, the binding itself—initiated by Haruto Arakami—was unregistered, unapproved, and unknown to the Council. This cannot be ignored."
Tensei Raidon's gaze hardened. "Intent does not absolve outcome. The child was endangered, the essence compromised, and the rules broken. A warning alone may not suffice."
Shinjiru's heart pounded. "Mother," he whispered, stepping forward, "I'll take responsibility. She did what any parent would do. She acted out of love, not defiance. You have to understand—this isn't just a rule violation. It's family. It's life."
A silence fell. Whispers rustled through the Council chambers. One of the junior members, hesitant yet bold, spoke: "Perhaps the Council should weigh the unique circumstances. The child—Shinjiru—has already shown exceptional skill. His life, bound with Himen essence, is extraordinary. Punishing the mother harshly may risk more than it prevents."
Tensei Raidon's eyes narrowed. "Extraordinary does not negate rule. But… extraordinary circumstances may warrant discretion."
The trial stretched on, hours melding into tense deliberation. Shinjiru stayed by his mother, silent but vigilant, the chains of his kusarigama coiling with his anxiety. He could feel the judgment weighing on them both—the weight of centuries of rules and the fragile balance of essence.
Finally, Tensei raised his hand. The chamber hushed. "Misaki Arakami," he intoned, "your actions were indeed in violation of Rule 6. Yet the Council acknowledges the mitigating factors: the intent to protect life, the unprecedented hybrid nature of your child, and the lack of malicious purpose. You are to undergo a probationary period under supervision. You will not be imprisoned. However, you must remain within Serium oversight, and any future interference will not be tolerated."
Shinjiru exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Relief washed over him, tempered by the lingering gravity of the rules. He looked at his mother—her eyes glimmered with tears, but her posture remained proud.
"Thank you," he whispered. She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.
"This isn't over, Shinjiru," she said softly. "Your father's choices… your path… they're just beginning. You must learn, train, and protect—not just yourself, but everyone who depends on you. Especially me."
The young Himen swallowed, feeling the full weight of her words. He had witnessed firsthand the danger of unrestrained power, the chaos that rules—or the breaking of them—could unleash.
"I understand," he said firmly, his violet aura flickering brightly. "I'll master everything I can. I won't let anyone—Krawlers, rebels, or the Council—destroy what we've fought for. I promise."
As the trial concluded, Shinjiru's gaze drifted toward the Academy's distant skyline. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the city. Somewhere beyond the Boneyard, somewhere beyond even the controlled boundaries of the Serium Realm, the Stage 3 Krawler waited. Orochi no Kyōfu loomed like a shadow in his destiny.
Shinjiru tightened his grip on the kusarigama. This was more than training, more than survival. It was the beginning of a journey toward mastery, toward becoming the first ninth Elite Himen, toward confronting the chaos that had claimed his father and threatened his world.
And he would not fail.