The rain had stopped hours ago, but the scent of wet concrete still drifted through the broken windows of the abandoned apartment that now served as their safe house. Dawn approached slowly—soft, pale light creeping over the rooftops of the lower district, where most people were still asleep and unaware of the silent war forming beneath their feet.
Riku hadn't slept.
He sat on the cold floor beside Haru, his back against the peeling wall. Haru's breathing was shallow—steady but filled with a strange, unnatural rhythm. Every few minutes, dark lines flickered beneath his skin like tiny veins of shadow pulsing with their own life. Riku had watched it for hours, memorizing every twitch, every glow, every subtle change.
He hated It.
He hated seeing his little brother like this.
He hated feeling helpless.
But he wasn't helpless—not anymore.
Footsteps approached softly behind him. Riku didn't turn; he knew the sound of her boots now. Aika stepped into the room, her presence quiet but sharp, like a blade hidden in cloth.
"You didn't sleep," she said simply.
"I couldn't."
Riku's voice was calm, but his eyes were locked on Haru.
Aika crouched beside him. "His symptoms are progressing. The side effects will worsen before they stabilize."
"What does that mean?" Riku asked, finally looking up.
"It means Hollow Veil injected him with a catalyst. Something designed to awaken dormant Trace potential. He survived the initial stage, but now…" She exhaled softly. "Now his body is learning something it was never meant to learn. And that comes with pain."
Riku clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.
"So what do I do?"
Aika rose to her feet. "You train."
They moved to the next room, an open space with cracked tiles, exposed beams, and dust swirling in the shafts of morning light. Aika tossed a small metal sphere toward Riku.
It floated.
"What—?"
Aika flicked her finger. The sphere shot toward Riku's chest like a bullet.
Instinct took over.
Black energy rippled across Riku's arms as he crossed them just in time. The sphere struck a shadow barrier he barely understood and bounced into a wall with a deafening clang.
Riku's heart thundered, his breathing sharp.
Aika nodded once. "Good. Now again."
Three more spheres rose from the floor, orbiting around him like silent predators. They fired one after another—fast, precise, relentless.
Riku dodged the first.
Blocked the second.
Barely avoided the third as it grazed his shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down his arm.
Aika watched, arms folded. "Trace Energy is shaped by intent," she said. "If your mind wavers, your body follows. Your focus must be absolute."
Riku gritted his teeth. "I'm trying."
"You're thinking," she corrected. "There's a difference."
The next sphere fired.
This time, Riku didn't think.
He moved.
His shadow energy burst outward, creating a shockwave that shattered two of the spheres instantly. The last one darted for his head—he ducked and caught it mid-air, crushing it in his hand.
His breath trembled as the black energy retreated beneath his skin.
Aika stepped closer. "You see? When you stop hesitating, the power responds. Hollow Veil wants this power. They will come for you, Riku. And when they do, you must be ready."
Riku's eyes sharpened. "I will be."
A sudden cry echoed from the next room.
Riku sprinted, Aika right behind him.
Haru writhed on the couch—shadows crawled under his skin like living ink, his face twisted in pain. The air around him vibrated with unstable energy, making the lights flicker.
"Haru!" Riku dropped to his knees beside him.
Aika grabbed Riku's shoulder. "Don't touch him. The energy is unstable!"
Riku hesitated only a second—then placed his hand on Haru's anyway.
Black light surged through his palm, but instead of pushing him away, it connected—like two pulses syncing into one rhythm. Haru's breathing slowed. The shadow glow softened. The room fell quiet again.
Aika stared, stunned.
"You stabilized him… without training. Instinctively."
Riku swallowed hard, staring at his hand. "It felt like… he needed me."
Aika's gaze sharpened. "No. It felt like he recognized you. Haru's transformation isn't random. He's connected to you—and your Trace Energy may be the only thing keeping him alive."
Later that afternoon, Aika opened a dusty briefcase filled with files, photos, and a hand-drawn map of the city. Red marks covered several districts.
"These are Hollow Veil observation nodes," she said. "Small teams. Scouts. Once they confirm your location, they'll send retrieval units."
"How soon?" Riku asked.
"They're already looking," Aika replied. "They may not know you're here yet, but they know you're not in the forest anymore."
Riku frowned. "They used Haru to lure me out."
Aika's silence confirmed it.
Riku looked at the map again. "Then we strike before they're ready."
Aika arched a brow. "Ambitious."
"He's my brother," Riku said softly. "I don't have time to wait and hide."
Aika studied him for a long moment.
Then—she smiled for the first time.
"Good. That's the mindset you'll need."
Night fell again.
Rain returned, tapping softly against the cracked windows as Aika and Riku sat over the map with dim lantern light flickering between them.
Aika pointed to three locations circling the outskirts of the city.
"These are the likeliest spots where Hollow Veil took Haru before moving him. They will have left traces. Patterns. Energy signatures. We track those, we get closer to finding their main facility."
Riku's fingers clenched around the map's edge. "And the operatives?"
Aika leaned back. "We avoid them. For now. Combat will come later."
Riku exhaled slowly.
He didn't like avoiding anything—but he knew she was right.
He looked toward Haru again. His brother slept peacefully, curled slightly, like he always used to. Riku felt the familiar burn in his chest—a mix of guilt, fear, and fierce determination.
"I'm ready," he said quietly.
"No," Aika replied, standing. "You're becoming ready. Tomorrow, we start the next phase."
Far across the district, on a rooftop drenched in rain, two silhouettes observed the city's lower blocks through thermal lenses.
One clicked their device.
A faint pulse appeared on the screen—brief but powerful.
"Trace signature detected," the masked operative said. "Eastern district. Level is rising."
The second figure, taller and quieter, turned their head slightly. "He's awakening."
"And the child?"
"Still unstable," the tall one replied. "But alive. They will come for him."
A pause.
Then a low, cold command:
"Prepare the retrieval unit."
The city hummed below them—silent, unaware.
The hunt had already begun.