The following morning, Serium Cityscape awoke under a calm, almost deceptive sky. The air carried a faint, residual hum of essence, as though the city itself remembered the chaos that had shaken it days before. Shinjiru stood at the balcony of his chambers, violet-silver aura faintly shimmering around him, feeling the pulse of the city beneath his feet. Though the immediate threat of Orochi no Kyōfu had been neutralized, subtle disturbances still lingered in the deeper channels of essence—ripples left behind by Ranko Hoshi's rebellion and remnants of corrupted Krawlers.
A soft knock echoed on his chamber door. Turning, Shinjiru saw Miyu Kage, aura faintly ivory-blue, her expression unreadable. "Shinjiru," she said, stepping inside without waiting for permission. "There's something you need to see. Something… from your past."
Shinjiru's fingers brushed the violet shard on his desk. He didn't remember its significance, but instinctively he knew it was linked to whatever Miyu had discovered. "What is it?" he asked, his tone calm but alert.
Miyu unrolled a scroll, its edges flickering with the faint glow of essence-infused ink. "Files recently recovered from the Forgotten War Ruins," she explained. "They belonged to your father—Haruto Arakami. His actions… and the truth of your bloodline… it's all here."
The words sent a subtle pulse through Shinjiru's hybrid instincts. Though his conscious memory remained blank, his body seemed to tighten in anticipation. "Show me."
The Hidden Legacy
Miyu's aura shifted, and she projected the files as ethereal images into the air. Holographic displays of diagrams, battle simulations, and handwritten notes spun before Shinjiru's eyes. He saw a man he instinctively recognized—tall, with sharp features and a faint aura that glimmered with restrained violet light. This was his father, yet the figure seemed both familiar and distant.
Haruto's handwriting flowed across the projections, detailing experiments with essence, hybridization, and the forbidden techniques that allowed him to merge Himen and human energy. Each page revealed a calculated risk, a careful step into the unknown. And then came the logs from the day of his death: Haruto had confronted a Stage 3 Krawler—the very Orochi no Kyōfu that would later become Shinjiru's nemesis.
The entries were desperate. Haruto had attempted to shield human and Himen essence from corruption, to contain the beast, and protect the very city he had sworn to defend. Yet his body, human and limited, could not withstand the assault. He fell. The files confirmed what Shinjiru's instincts already knew: his father had broken rules, crossed forbidden boundaries, and paid the ultimate price.
"Your father… he risked everything," Miyu said softly. "Not for glory, not for power… but for the balance. And you… you are the culmination of that sacrifice."
Shinjiru's body tensed. A flicker of violet-silver energy sparked along his arms, as if responding to the truth. "Then all of this… my existence… it wasn't random."
"No," Miyu replied. "It was deliberate. You are the first and only hybrid in history. Everything about you—your instincts, your strength, your resilience—comes from both your father and the Himen lineage he sought to preserve."
Echoes of Forbidden Blood
Later that evening, Shinjiru walked the quiet corridors of the Core Citadel, chains resting casually at his sides, violet-silver aura pulsing softly in the dim light. Even without conscious memory, the weight of legacy pressed on him. Every corridor, every flicker of essence, seemed alive with reminders of the sacrifices that had paved the way for his ascension.
He paused before a sealed chamber, aura tingling. This was the restricted archive of the Elite 8, a place where only the highest Himen dared tread. Though he had been named the 9th Elite, Shinjiru felt a pull—a silent urging—to understand the depths of knowledge his father had once pursued.
Using instinct and skill, he bypassed the minor wards. The room opened with a soft hum, revealing shelves of essence-infused scrolls, glowing fruit vials, and battle simulations projected into the air. Among them was a small, sealed container—the same violet shard from his bedside, now radiating faintly stronger in his presence.
Touching it, a surge of warmth and energy ran through him. Flashes of memory teased at the edges of his mind: streets collapsing, Orochi's multiple heads striking in unison, Kaito yelling, the protective barrier he had cast around innocents. Pain, sacrifice, victory—it all came rushing in… but fragmented, incomplete.
"This… is a warning," Shinjiru whispered to himself. "My father's mistakes… and his courage… they're my guide."
Rebuilding and Vigilance
Over the following weeks, Shinjiru focused on rebuilding the Academy and stabilizing essence throughout the city. He coordinated training for Himen-in-training, ensuring that the next generation could handle crises without repeating the errors of the past. Kaito remained at his side, a trusted ally and confidant, while the Elite 8 offered guidance when necessary, always reminding Shinjiru that leadership carried responsibility beyond mere strength.
Yet, even as order returned, Shinjiru felt the ever-present pull of the unknown. In the shadows, remnants of Ranko Hoshi's rebellion lingered, waiting for opportunity. In the corners of the Boneyard, corrupted essence began to stir. And somewhere, deep within the veins of the city, whispers of forbidden experiments echoed—the unfinished legacy of his father.
One night, standing atop the highest spire, Shinjiru looked toward the horizon. Violet-silver aura flared around him, illuminating the city in faint, protective light. "I may not remember everything," he said quietly, "but I understand now. The past… the sacrifices… the chaos… they're part of me. And I will honor them, no matter what comes."
A subtle breeze carried a whisper through the night: guardian, bridge, hybrid… destiny awaits.
Shinjiru clenched his fists, chains coiling around his arms instinctively. He was ready. Ready for whatever shadows of the past, or threats of the future, dared to challenge him.
The Serium Realm had a new guardian, and for the first time, it felt truly safe—at least for now.