Archimist Daisuke Renmaru had always been considered an eccentric in Veridianum.
While other masters sought perfection in a single element or the careful fusion of two, he dreamed of something beyond. It wasn't just strength or discipline that fascinated him—but the invisible lines that connected opposites.
They said Daisuke had mastered the Wind Dojo and the Stone Dojo, creating a hybrid style many deemed impossible. They called him "stubborn," "arrogant," even "blasphemous," but no one could deny it: when he moved, the impossible happened. Rocks that should be immutable became light as leaves, and air currents that should be ephemeral could weigh heavy as walls. He was, indeed, an Archimist.
The morning he heard about the Breathing Dojo, Daisuke felt his heart quicken. If there was something beyond the known combinations, he needed to see it with his own eyes.
"Master, they say the living walls devour the life energy of apprentices," warned one of his disciples.
Daisuke merely smiled.
"Then we shall see if they devour us... or give us back."
The journey to Kaoru was short, but intense. When the archimist arrived, he found the dojo already altered. The walls pulsed with life, and the young trainees practiced movements that seemed to dance with space rather than fight against it.
In the center, seated in a meditative posture, was Master Shoumei.
"Welcome, Daisuke," he said, without opening his eyes. "I knew the call would bring you."
"Call?" Daisuke raised an eyebrow. "I only came to see if it was true."
Before Shoumei could answer, the Triad organism inhabiting the dojo manifested itself. The Nodule, now more robust and branched, projected filaments to the center of the hall, where it rose like a tree of membranes. But this time it didn't come only with song. It came with something new.
A sequence of living symbols, lights that bent and expanded, forming patterns human eyes shouldn't be able to follow. Each symbol seemed like a word, but also a movement, a sensation. It was the Triad's Evolutionary Syntax, trying to translate itself.
Daisuke stood still, marveling.
"Is this... language? Or is it combat?"
Shoumei opened his eyes and smiled.
"For them, there is no difference."
The archimist took a deep breath and advanced to the center. His disciples protested, but he silenced them with a gesture. He already knew that moment was a turning point.
When he touched one of the floating symbols, his body was flooded by a torrent of sensations. The wind and stone within him, his two elements, reacted immediately. The symbols didn't ask for submission. They asked for convergence.
The entire dojo trembled. The Nodule had recognized the archimist and responded. Additional symbols emerged, branching out in directions reminiscent of tree limbs, rivers, and bones.
Daisuke, in ecstasy, began to move. His hybrid style was already fluid, but now it was as if space responded even before his gestures. When he swung his arms, the wind didn't just blow—it anchored itself to invisible pillars. When he stomped his feet, the stone didn't just harden—it rose, light as air.
"He's not just fighting," murmured Ren, the young disciple. "He's... translating."
And it was true. Each of Daisuke's movements created a bridge between the living symbols and the human body. He wasn't dominating the Triad; he was interpreting it.
At the peak of the demonstration, Daisuke stopped, breathless. The Nodule projected one last symbol before him. Unlike the others, this one seemed unstable, flickering, almost dangerous. An imperfect fusion, something the symbols themselves rejected.
"This is..." Shoumei frowned. "A paradox."
Daisuke smiled, still sweating.
"No. This is an invitation."
With a bold gesture, he tried to integrate the symbol into his body. The pain was immediate—his life flow collapsed for an instant, as if his elements were repelling each other. His disciples screamed, Shoumei rose, ready to intervene.
But then, something new happened. Daisuke's body didn't break—it adapted. The lines of the paradox dissolved and reconstituted themselves, not as wind and stone in conflict, but as a new form: a rocky air, or a breathing stone.
"Convergence..." Shoumei whispered in reverence. "He has become what they call a Convergence Bearer."
The entire dojo exhaled as if in celebration. The Nodule withdrew its symbols, satisfied. Daisuke, still on his knees, rose slowly, his body vibrating in a strange, yet stable, harmony.
"Master Shoumei," he said, smiling despite the pain, "now I understand. You call this symbiosis... I will call it translation. Not translating words, but worlds."
That night, the two masters talked at length. Shoumei told of the first contact, about the living dojo, about the Triad's offer. Daisuke explained his vision: if a single body could translate two elements into something new, then an entire universe could translate itself into another.
"If that's the case," said Shoumei, looking at the pulsating walls, "then Veridianum and the Triad aren't just coexisting. They are becoming a new language."
And so was born the first Convergence Bearer, a living link between two systems that once seemed incompatible.
But not everyone would see this in a positive light. In other villages, rumors were already spreading that "the dojos were being corrupted," that "alien forces were devouring the essence of Veridianum." Fear was beginning to grow.
As Daisuke slept, amidst dreams populated by living symbols, the Nodule remained vigilant. Its filaments extended beyond the lake, touching the wind and stone, spreading the echo of the new link that had been formed.
It was only the beginning.