✅ CHAPTER 6 — "The Hall of Soles"
U.A. Dorms. Midnight.
Most of Class 1-A was knocked out after the Battle Exercise. Bakugo was probably chewing air in his sleep. Midoriya was mumbling about Quirk theory. Kaminari was drooling on his pillow.
But Devon Jackson?
Devon was wide awake—staring at them.
The purple-and-black Jordans sat across the room like a warning sign. Silent. Heavy. Waiting.
His chest tightened just looking at them.
He could still feel it—what happened during the battle.
That cold power. That voice in the dark. That moment he almost lost control.
He whispered to himself:
"I'm never using those again."
He shut his eyes.
Sleep took him anyway.
---
✅ THE DREAM
Everything turned black.
No walls. No ground. No sound.
Just floating.
Then—
THUMP. A single footstep echoed.
Devon spun around.
A glowing pathway of purple energy stretched ahead, leading into darkness like a runway.
He looked down—
Purple-and-black Jordans were suddenly on his feet, laced tight, pulsing like a heartbeat.
BOOM.
Torches of different colors ignited along the path:
Red. Blue. Green. Yellow. White. Gold.
Each flame shaped like a pair of Jordans.
Devon's breath caught.
"Is this… all the forms?"
A figure stepped into the light.
Then another. And another.
A whole line of people—different ages, different styles, different eras—each wearing a unique Jordan color glowing at their feet.
One woman in red smirked. A tall guy in blue gave a nod. A kid maybe twelve waved shyly, his shoes glowing green.
Dozens of them.
Devon whispered:
"You… you're the previous users."
The woman in red folded her arms.
"Bearers."
The man in gold added:
"Chosen. Not born."
Devon's pulse raced.
"Why am I here?"
The group parted—
And out of the shadows stepped a man unlike the rest.
---
✅ THE SHADOW-BORN
Tall. Broad-shouldered. A long black coat fading into smoke. Eyes glowing violet. Same purple-and-black Jordans burning like dark fire.
He stopped inches from Devon.
His voice was deep, calm, dangerous:
"Name's Xayden Ward. Third Shadow-Bound."
Devon's voice cracked.
"You used these before me."
Xayden nodded once.
"And nearly didn't walk away from them."
---
✅ THE TRUTH OF THE SHADOW SHOES
The torches dimmed.
The darkness thickened.
Xayden lifted a hand—
And a hulking wolf-like spirit formed behind him, made of smoke and night, eyes glowing violet.
Devon stumbled back.
"WHAT—WHAT IS THAT?!"
Xayden didn't blink.
"The Spirit of Nocturne. The core of your Shadow Jordans."
Devon's heart hammered.
"A spirit?! Inside the shoes?! Inside me?"
Xayden nodded.
"These Jordans don't just give power. They are power. Living power."
The spirit growled low, shaking the void.
Devon froze—not from fear…
But because the spirit bowed.
To him.
Xayden smirked.
"It recognizes you. It chose you."
Devon shook his head.
"But why? I was terrified when I used them. I almost lost control!"
Xayden stepped closer.
"And that's exactly why you were chosen."
Devon blinked.
"…What?"
Xayden pointed to Devon's chest.
"Shadow isn't for the fearless. Fearless men get consumed."
He tapped the shoe.
"Shadow needs someone who can feel fear—and walk anyway."
---
✅ THE LESSON
The spirit dissolved into mist.
Xayden's voice lowered:
"Don't treat the shoes like a weapon."
He tapped Devon's forehead.
"Treat them like a partner."
Devon frowned.
"A partner?"
Xayden nodded.
"Talk to it. Trust it. Set boundaries. Power that's respected… responds."
For the first time, the purple Jordans pulsed softly beneath Devon's feet—warm, steady. Like agreement.
Devon whispered:
"So I can control it?"
Xayden shook his head.
"No."
Devon's stomach dropped.
"But you can guide it."
---
✅ THE WARNING
The torches flickered.
Every previous bearer turned toward Devon—faces serious, respectful, almost… hopeful.
Xayden's coat began dissolving into smoke.
His final words echoed:
"If you ever use the Shadows for rage… revenge… or pride…"
The void rumbled like thunder.
"They won't be your power."
He faded into darkness.
"They'll be your prison."
Devon reached out—
"WAIT! What do I do now?!"
Xayden's voice whispered:
"Wake up… and listen."
---
✅ BACK TO REALITY
Devon's eyes snapped open.
He gasped, sitting upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his face.
His room was silent.
Normal.
The purple-and-black Jordans sat in the corner.
Still.
But this time… they didn't feel threatening.
They felt alive.
Waiting.
Not demanding.
Inviting.
Devon swallowed, heart pounding, and whispered:
"We're… partners. Okay?"
The laces twitched.
Just once.
Like a nod.