Yesterday didn't crack something open.
Like, Haruka didn't stand at the edge of becoming something else.
The academy grounds were loud again—students talking, sparring, laughing like the world was still simple. Like, strength was just numbers. Like fights ended when someone fell.
Haruka walked through it all like a ghost.
Calm.
Too calm.
But inside—
Something was shifting.
The training field.
Same place.
Same ground.
But today felt… different.
At the center stood the man everyone both respected and feared—
Jonathan L. Galactus.
Hands behind his back. Posture relaxed. Eyes sharp enough to cut through lies before they're even spoken.
"Today," Jonathan said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the field, "we resume controlled combat training."
A few groans. A few laughs.
Normal.
Until—
"Sir."
The voice wasn't loud.
But it silenced everything.
Haruka stepped forward.
Every eye turned.
Jonathan's gaze landed on him instantly. "Yes, Mr. Prodigy?"
A pause.
A breath.
"I want a rematch."
Whispers.
Students leaned in.
Jonathan didn't respond immediately.
"With Orpheus?" he asked.
Haruka's eyes didn't waver.
"Yes..."
Then—
A slight shift in his tone, as if he was tired of this bullshit of being criticized for holding back.
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then—
A laugh.
Not mocking.
Not arrogant.
Just… amused.
Orpheus stepped forward, rolling his shoulders:
"You serious right now?"
Haruka looked at him.
Not with anger.
Not with rivalry.
Just—
Stillness.
"I held back."
That was it.
No explanation.
No excuses.
Just truth.
And somehow…
That made it worse.
Jonathan studied him.
Long.
Careful.
"…You understand what you're asking for?" he said.
Haruka nodded.
"I do."
A pause.
Then—
Jonathan smiled.
"Very well."
The air shifted instantly.
Students backed away, forming a wide circle.
This wasn't training anymore.
This was something else.
"Begin."
Orpheus moved first.
Fast.
Faster than last time.
No hesitation this time.
He launched forward, Dark energy flaring around his body like a storm breaking loose.
"Don't regret this," he muttered.
Haruka didn't move.
Not yet.
Not like before.
This time—
He stepped forward.
Clash.
The ground cracked beneath their feet as Orpheus's strike met—
Nothing.
Haruka wasn't there.
A flicker—
And he appeared behind him.
Light radiated from his legs, leaving trails.
Faster.
Cleaner.
Sharper.
Orpheus turned instantly, blocking the incoming strike—but the impact still pushed him back.
His eyes widened.
"…You're faster."
Haruka didn't respond. He was feeling an ache in his stomach... He used Light magic too fast without training. He slipped, controlling the mana... It made his internal organs get hurt.
Jonathan's gaze narrowed slightly.
That movement…
Not just speed.
Precision.
A bit out of control.
But measured.
Like every step had already been decided.
Orpheus charged again, this time with full force.
No holding back.
Dark energy surged, forming around his arms, his strikes growing heavier, sharper, more desperate.
"Fight me properly!" he snapped.
Haruka exhaled.
Quietly.
"…I am."
And then—
Something changed.
A faint crack.
Like glass under pressure.
The air around Haruka twisted.
Darkness—
No.
Not darkness.
Something deeper.
It didn't spread outward.
It pulled inward.
Toward him.
Around him.
Like the world itself was bending to make space.
Orpheus hesitated.
Just for a second.
That was enough.
Haruka raised his hand.
Slow.
Deliberate.
And from nothing—
Something formed.
A staff.
But not the one they knew.
Not the Zerythal staff.
Not anymore.
It began as a simple shape—
Then it broke.
Reformed.
Twisted.
The familiar structure cracked apart as the Ferixo stones embedded within it began to glow—
Violently.
Reacting.
Mutating.
The staff elongated, its surface shifting between textures—solid, fluid, something in between.
Darkness wrapped around it like smoke, leaving trails that didn't fade.
And yet—
From within that darkness—
Light pulsed.
Soft.
Radiant.
Impossible.
And around it—
Cosmic energy.
Orbiting.
Not floating.
Not drifting.
Orbiting.
Like it had its own gravity.
The field went silent.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
Jonathan's expression changed.
For the first time—
Confusion.
"…What… is that? 3 magical elements but... how did he summon that?"
Orpheus stepped back.
Instinct.
Pure instinct.
His body was reacting before his mind could catch up.
"That's not…" he muttered.
"That's not your staff."
Haruka looked at it.
Just for a second.
Like, even he was acknowledging it.
Then—
He tightened his grip.
"I told you," he said quietly.
"I held back."
And then—
He moved.
Too fast.
Orpheus barely reacted in time, raising his guard—
The impact shattered it.
Not broke.
Shattered.
Like it never stood a chance.
The staff didn't just strike.
It collapsed the space where it landed.
The ground beneath Orpheus cracked violently as he was driven into it, the air around him exploding outward.
Gasps.
Shouts.
Someone stepped back.
"No way…"
Orpheus coughed, forcing himself up.
His pride wouldn't let him stay down.
Not like this.
Not in front of everyone.
"You think that's enough?" he growled, forcing power back into his body.
Darkness surged again—
Stronger.
Wilder.
He charged.
Again.
Haruka didn't dodge.
He swung.
One strike.
Everything went silent.
Orpheus's attack didn't land.
It never reached.
The moment their energies touched—
It broke.
His power collapsed instantly, as if it had never been meant to exist in the same space.
They look closer... a really tiny black hole-like object, which almost looked like a Kerr black hole, but instead of pulling inwards, it was pushing outwards.
The staff pressed forward.
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
Orpheus's eyes widened—
Not in anger.
Not in frustration.
But—
Fear.
The strike landed.
And the world cracked with it.
Orpheus hit the ground hard, the impact echoing across the field.
Dust rose.
Then settled.
Silence.
He tried to stand.
His body didn't respond.
Not because he couldn't.
But because—
He understood.
He lost.
Completely.
Haruka stood over him.
Not proud.
Not satisfied.
Just—
Calm.
"…This is what I was holding back," he said.
Those words hit harder than the fight.
Even though Haruka managed to aura farm by saying such lines, the pain inside his stomach increased more; this time, it is because he used the Cosmic element and summoned a tiny black hole, which almost drained all of the mana out of him.
Around them—
No one spoke.
Because now they knew.
Last fight wasn't his limit.
It wasn't even close.
Jonathan stepped forward slowly.
Eyes locked on the staff.
On the energy.
On Haruka.
"…That ability," he said quietly.
"…Explain it."
Haruka didn't answer immediately.
The staff pulsed once.
Then—
Slowly—
It began to settle.
Not disappearing.
But quieting.
Like it was listening.
"I didn't create it," Haruka said.
Jonathan's eyes narrowed.
"It responded," Haruka continued.
"To me."
A pause.
Then—
"…Three elements."
That made Jonathan stop.
"Darkness," he said.
"Light."
His gaze shifted to the orbiting energy.
"…and Cosmic."
No one else understood.
But Jonathan did.
His voice dropped slightly.
"…A tri-elemental manifestation."
Silence.
"That's…" one student whispered.
"Impossible."
Jonathan didn't deny it.
Instead—
He looked at Haruka like he was seeing him for the first time.
Not as a student.
Not as a fighter.
But as—
A variable.
"…In all recorded systems," Jonathan said slowly, "only single or dual element users exist."
His eyes sharpened.
"…You're the first."
Haruka said nothing.
Because even he didn't fully understand it.
But he understood one thing.
He couldn't go back.
Behind him—
Orpheus clenched his fist.
Not in anger.
But in something worse.
His pride—
Shattered.
Not because he lost.
But because—
He realized the gap.
"…You…" Orpheus muttered.
"…were looking down on me."
Haruka didn't turn.
"No," he said.
A pause.
"I was trying not to kill you."
Silence.
That was the moment everything changed.
No rivalry.
No equal ground.
No illusion.
Just truth.
And truth?
Was heavier than any strike.
Jonathan exhaled slowly.
"…Training is over."
No one argued.
No one moved.
Because they all knew—
Something had shifted.
Not just in Haruka.
But in the balance of everything.
And far beyond the academy—
Where eyes watched from places unseen—
A voice echoed softly.
"…He has awakened further than expected."
Another voice responded.
Calm.
Interested.
"Let him continue."
A pause.
"After all…"
A faint smile.
"…even monsters need time to realize what they are."
And somewhere—
Deep within Haruka—
Something pulsed.
Not violent.
Not chaotic.
Just waiting.
For the moment—
He would stop holding back completely.
He ran towards before Jonathan could begin the class, he glanced at himself in the mirror, and he immediately vomited blood. The Side effects started to kick in.
He remembers that Sloth's artwork lets him go back to the state where he was, but he doesn't know how to use that... which is a problem because, behind the scenes, Ratheres W. taught him how to use Wrath's Artwork and summon weapons.
His grip tightened on the sink's edge, knuckles whitening as another wave hit him—deeper this time. It wasn't just pain.
It was emptiness.
Like something inside him had been hollowed out.
"…tch."
His reflection stared back at him.
Pale.
Breathing uneven.
Eyes still calm—but that calm wasn't natural anymore.
It was forced.
Controlled.
Barely.
"The cost…" he muttered under his breath.
Light.
Darkness.
Cosmic.
Three forces that were never meant to coexist inside something human.
And yet—
He forced them to.
Another cough. More blood.
This time, he didn't react.
He just watched it.
Like it didn't belong to him.
"…So this is the recoil."
The staff.
That power.
That overwhelming, crushing dominance—
It wasn't free.
Of course it wasn't.
Nothing like that ever is.
His fingers trembled slightly as he raised his hand, faint traces of light flickering around it.
Unstable.
He clicked his tongue.
"Not enough…"
And then—
Something changed.
The air shifted.
Subtly.
Like the space behind him… deepened.
Haruka's eyes moved.
Slowly.
To the mirror.
But—
The reflection wasn't right.
He was there.
But behind him—
Something else stood.
Not fully visible.
Not fully formed.
A presence.
Heavy.
Still.
Watching.
"…So you finally noticed."
The voice wasn't loud.
It didn't echo.
It just… existed.
Haruka didn't turn.
Didn't panic.
Didn't even flinch.
"You are…Sloth. Ratheres showed me your figure... same annoying plague doctor mask with crow-ish vibe, but a bit different."
A pause.
Then—
A quiet, almost amused exhale.
"Don't call me that."
The figure in the mirror became clearer—but not completely.
Its outline wavered like heat distortion, its form refusing to settle into something fully human.
"Names matter," it continued.
"And mine…"
A slight shift.
"…is Lothumhin S."
Silence returned.
But this silence was different.
Heavier.
Denser.
Haruka studied the reflection carefully.
Not with fear.
But with calculation.
"…You've been there since before the fight."
It wasn't a question.
Lothumhin didn't deny it.
"I've been there long before that."
Another pause.
"Watching you tear yourself apart using power you barely understand."
Haruka's fingers tightened slightly.
"…Yet you didn't stop me."
"Not my role."
Simple.
Cold.
Truth.
Haruka exhaled slowly, steadying his breath despite the pain clawing at his insides.
"…Then why show yourself now?"
The reflection shifted again.
For a brief second—
It smiled.
Not kindly.
Not cruelly.
Just knowingly.
"Because now you're aware of the cost."
A beat.
"And that makes you… ready to listen."
Silence.
Drip.
Drip.
Blood still stains the sink.
Haruka looked at it.
Then back at the mirror.
"…You're saying I can use your power."
Lothumhin tilted its head slightly.
"You already are."
That made Haruka pause.
"…No."
His voice was quiet.
Certain.
"I'm forcing it."
"Exactly."
The word landed like a weight.
"You're breaking your own limits to imitate something that should come naturally."
Another shift in the air.
"Heavy power doesn't belong to those who chase it blindly."
A step closer—though it never actually moved.
"It belongs to those who understand how to carry it."
Haruka's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Then teach me."
Direct.
No hesitation.
But—
Lothumhin didn't answer immediately.
Instead, it looked at him—
Really looked at him.
At the blood.
At the trembling muscles.
At the unstable light flickering around his hand.
"…Not yet."
Haruka's brows lowered slightly.
"Why."
"Because if I teach you now," Lothumhin said calmly, "you'll collapse before you even begin."
A pause.
"Your body is damaged."
Another.
"Your mana is worse."
That—
He felt.
That hollow emptiness.
Like trying to breathe with half a lung.
"…I can still fight."
"Of course you can."
Lothumhin's tone didn't change.
"That's what makes you dangerous."
Not praise.
Not insult.
Just fact.
"But fighting and surviving aren't the same thing."
Silence.
Haruka exhaled slowly.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Adjusting.
Then—
His fingers moved again.
This time—
The light came back.
Softer.
Controlled.
Not explosive.
Not overwhelming.
Gentle.
It wrapped around his abdomen first.
Then spread.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Healing.
The internal strain.
The torn muscle fibers.
The ruptured vessels.
Not perfectly—
But enough.
The pain dulled.
His breathing stabilized.
Blood stopped flowing.
The light flickered once—
Then faded.
Haruka lowered his hand.
"…Temporary," he muttered.
Lothumhin watched.
Quietly.
Then—
"…Good."
That single word carried weight.
"You're not as reckless as you pretend to be."
Haruka didn't respond.
Because he already knew—
This wasn't a solution.
His body felt better.
But inside—
That emptiness remained.
Mana wasn't something you could just patch up.
It had to return.
Naturally.
Or not at all.
"…So this is the limit," he said quietly.
"Right now?"
Lothumhin tilted its head slightly.
"No."
A pause.
"This is just the beginning of where you break."
Silence.
Haruka's eyes didn't waver.
"…Then I'll go further."
That—
Made Lothumhin smile again.
Faint.
Barely visible.
"Of course you will."
The presence began to fade.
Slowly.
Like it was never fully there to begin with.
"But remember this, Haruka—"
Its voice lingered even as its form disappeared.
"You don't learn my power by forcing it."
A beat.
"You learn it by understanding why it exists."
And then—
Nothing.
The mirror returned to normal.
Just Haruka.
Alone.
Breathing steady now.
Body stabilized—
For the moment.
He stared at his reflection for a few seconds longer.
Then—
Turned.
Unlocked the door.
And stepped out.
Like nothing had happened.
But inside—
Something had changed.
Not power.
Not yet.
But awareness.
And sometimes—
That's more dangerous than power itself.