The lake was disturbingly tranquil. Too calm. The flows of Ni, which usually danced beneath the surface, barely vibrated, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The black sky stretched overhead, streaked with luminous scars, and each breath seemed to amplify the silence.
Kaen stood alone at the water's edge. His reflection warped under an invisible ripple, and he sought neither to call nor to provoke. He listened.
It wasn't a voice. It wasn't a memory. It was… a presence.
He closed his eyes. His mind dove—not into the past, not into the future—but into a space between two heartbeats, where time hesitates and memories fracture.
He saw a mark. Not the mark of the Riten. Another. Older. More fractured. It did not shine, but it breathed softly, as though alive.
"You are not alone. But you cannot carry me yet."
Kaen's eyes snapped open, gasping. For an instant, his spiritual pistol appeared in his hand, before vanishing again, as if it refused to reveal itself completely.
Ishikawa approached and sat beside him, resting a hand on Kaen's knee with a faint smile.
"You felt it, didn't you?" he said softly. "Me too. But I don't know if it's inside me… or around us."
Kaen shrugged. "It's both. Like something is watching us… but through us."
Ishikawa frowned. "Do you think it's that power? Or something else?"
"This power is a mirror," Kaen murmured. "And what we see inside… isn't always ourselves."
From the walkway, Naomi watched in silence. She spoke no words, but she missed nothing. Her eyes followed Kaen, noting every tremor in his aura.
Kaen was beginning to hear. Not the Ni. What preceded the Ni. What even the Taishō dared not name.
Kaen fixed his gaze on the lake. A pulse. Not a ripple. A shiver. A silhouette flickered—brief, indistinct. Neither human nor hostile, simply… there. It didn't move, yet it seemed to be waiting for him, patient and silent.
The Sanuya did not reveal techniques. It revealed fractures.
Mastery of the Shiki
At dawn, the group was summoned to a suspended platform within the Sanuya. The sky remained dark, but the flows of Ni quickened, dancing with the resonance rings that activated around them. Naomi and Dante Veyron, Jōtan of Kirina, awaited them—impassive, yet attentive.
"Until now, your Shiki have manifested through instinct," Naomi announced. "Today, you will learn to call them. Not by force. By alignment."
Dante added calmly, "The Shiki is not a weapon. It is a frequency. You are the transmitter. If you are scrambled… it will not answer."
Phase 1 — Stabilization
Each Senshi stepped into a ring. Their Ni were scanned and amplified. Streams of light revealed their unstable zones.
Takumi thought: My gauntlet pulses… but my mind is clouded.
Astou closed her eyes. Her staff glowed faintly. She didn't try to activate—it was listening.
Kaen remained still. His pistol did not appear, but his aura vibrated faintly, as though in standby mode, ready to manifest when the moment came.
Phase 2 — Calling the Shiki
Naomi spoke in a low but firm tone: "Do not call your weapon. Call your truth. The Shiki does not come to protect you. It comes to reveal you."
Floch muttered, doubtful: "So… I forget my giant mic. And think about myself? That's scarier than training."
Akiriho, without lifting his eyes from his notebook, added: "Your Ni doesn't want to hear you talk. It wants to hear you think. Try it."
Kaen closed his eyes. He thought of his sister. Of Kirina. Of the moment he almost ran… but stayed.
The spiritual pistol appeared in his hand. It did not burn. It did not strike. It pulsed softly, like a heart just rediscovering its rhythm.
Naomi, silent, noted to herself: He doesn't control it. But he's beginning to accept it.
The lake beneath them continued to pulse. The invisible fractures of the Sanuya seemed to tremble. And in that charged silence, Kaen felt—for the first time—that his Shiki was no longer merely a tool… but a mirror of who he was, and who he was meant to become.