The next morning rose gently over the academy, like a veil of light laid over a world still weary from the night. The nascent sun filtered through the curtains of the dormitory, casting golden lines on the floor that trembled slightly under the caress of the wind. The calm was almost unreal, as if the world itself had decided to forget the violent events of the previous day. In the small room, two beds faced a window left open, and the fresh morning air circulated slowly between the still walls. On one of the beds, Zayn lay on his back, arms behind his head, eyes lost in the cracks of the ceiling. His gaze followed the irregular lines as if they formed a mysterious map leading to an invisible treasure. But there was nothing to discover. Nothing to do. Just the boredom that settled softly in his chest. He sighed deeply, with the dramatic gravity of a hero condemned to an eternity of emptiness. "I'm bored…" he murmured. A few meters away, sitting against the wall with an almost unreal calm, Yojuro observed a small notebook resting on his knees. Bandages still covered his torso, his arm, and part of his shoulder, silent reminders of yesterday's battle. Yet his face remained incredibly peaceful, as if the pain were only an insignificant variable in the equation of his existence. He slowly lifted his eyes toward Zayn. "You could train." Zayn did not move. "Read a book." "No." "Sleep." Zayn kept staring at the ceiling. "No." A silence hung in the room, accompanied only by the whisper of the wind through the curtains. Yojuro calmly closed his notebook. "You are probably the most useless person I've encountered this morning." Zayn shrugged. "Thanks."
Then someone knocked on the door. Two sharp knocks. Two knocks that echoed strangely in the morning calm. Zayn slowly turned his head. "Huh?" He got up with the slowness of a lazy animal emerging from deep sleep, then walked to the door, stretching slightly. "I'll open it." Yojuro watched the scene silently, but something in the air shifted subtly, like an invisible pressure announcing the arrival of a storm. Zayn placed his hand on the handle and opened the door. The next instant exploded like thunder. A blow of terrifying force struck his stomach. The impact was so fast that the air seemed to tear around the fist. Zayn's eyes widened. His breath vanished. His body was thrown backward like a broken doll. He crossed the room before crashing violently against the wall in a crash of wood and dust. Yojuro immediately got up. "ZAYN!"
The figure who had entered the room advanced slowly. A young woman. Her short blonde hair framed a face beautiful yet hard as the edge of a sword. Her violet eyes burned with cold, deep, almost painful anger. She wore a black combat kimono and tight gloves around her hands. She entered the room with the gait of a storm ready to erupt. "Zayn…" she said, her voice trembling with contained rage. "You're going to pay dearly." On the floor, Zayn coughed. Blood slowly trickled from his lips. He lifted his head with difficulty. "Hey… who are you…?" The young woman clenched her fists. Her joints cracked slowly. "I am Cynthia Delacroix." Silence fell in the room. "And I am Jessica's sister."
These words fell like a stone in a still lake. Zayn froze for a few seconds. "Huh…?" Cynthia took a step forward, and a luminous aura began to vibrate around her. "My sister is traumatized." Her voice trembled slightly. "And you… you were there." The light of blessed energy now flowed around her hands like white flames. "You couldn't protect her." She gritted her teeth. "So I'm going to demolish you." Zayn groaned and struggled to rise, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Seriously…" He slowly drew a metallic object attached to his belt. His artifact. Boréalis. The surface of the device pulsed softly like a mechanical heart. Zayn pressed it. A turquoise light shot out abruptly, filling the room with a liquid gleam. His body began to change. His muscles contracted then expanded, as if an ancient force were awakening something deep within him. His skin slowly became covered in living, dark, smooth armor, like the surface of a midnight ocean. Organic plates appeared on his shoulders and arms, shaping a massive and powerful silhouette. His back arched slightly, strengthening his spine, and a heavy tail formed behind him, striking the ground with a dull thud. Translucent spheres pulsating with liquid energy appeared on his chest and shoulders, like living hearts of water. His face transformed as well, his jaw elongating to reveal powerful fangs, while his eyes took on a luminous green hue, like two stars reflected in a dark ocean. The air in the room seemed to vibrate around him, as if the pressure of the abyss had entered this small dormitory. The creature now standing there was no longer truly human. It was an embodiment of the depths' power. A liquid storm trapped in a monstrous body. It was Waterpulse.
Cynthia remained motionless for a moment. Her violet eyes widened slightly, not in fear, but in interest. "A metamorphosis miracle…" she murmured. A faint smile appeared on her lips. "Impressive." Then blessed energy exploded around her fists. A white light enveloped her hands like two stars ready to strike. She leaned slightly forward. And disappeared. The floor cracked under the force of her speed. In an instant, she rushed at Zayn like a living arrow. But the abyssal creature opened its massive mouth, and a monstrous pressure rose in its throat. A liquid roar erupted in the room. A torrent of compressed water shot from its mouth with the power of a marine cannon. The jet struck Cynthia head-on, sending a massive wave that swept through the room. She was pushed several meters back before sliding across the wet floor and stabilizing herself with an agile move. Droplets now fell from the ceiling like an indoor rain. Zayn slammed his massive paw on the ground. "What do you want, damn it!" His voice thundered like aquatic lightning. "It's not my fault Jessica wasn't more vigilant! And that Djinn was far too strong!" Cynthia's eyes turned icy. "I don't care at all." She got back up slowly, her blessed energy illuminating the room like a pure flame. "What I want…" She raised her fist. "Is to avenge my sister."
The tension became almost suffocating. Then a calm voice broke the storm. "Stop." The two fighters turned their heads. Yojuro stood there, his bandages visible, but his gaze incredibly calm. Cynthia frowned. "Who are you?" Yojuro stepped forward. "I was there too yesterday." Silence fell. Cynthia stared at him for a long moment. "Then you too will pay." Yojuro remained still, like a statue of calm amid the chaos. Then he spoke in a voice soft yet sharp. "If you want to fight… fight me." Zayn turned his head. "Huh?!" But Yojuro continued. "Because if you had been there yesterday…" His eyes glimmered slightly. "You probably would have died too." Silence filled the room. The anger still burned in Cynthia's violet eyes, but at the bottom of that gaze… something had changed. A doubt. A crack in the storm. And in this small dormitory still soaked with water…
Breathless, Zayn let out a hoarse laugh, a mix of excitement and fatigue. The crystalline water surrounding his body vibrated softly, forming small ripples reflecting the morning light like thousands of diamond sparks. "Yojuro…" he murmured, his voice sharp but resolute, "leave… I'll handle this." His green eyes shone with fierce determination, and even through pain and exhaustion, he stood tall, ready to plunge again into the chaos of battle.
Yojuro, still bandaged and marked from the previous fight, furrowed his brows slightly, his hands clenched into fists. "Zayn… be careful…" he said, but his voice betrayed worry. He saw the spark in Zayn's eyes, that wild, untamable light refusing to retreat, and he knew no warning would hold him back. So, in a silent movement, he stepped back slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on the scene, ready to intervene only if extreme urgency demanded it.
Cynthia, breathless but more determined than ever, advanced, her black kimono floating around her, her blessed energy gloves glowing in a harsh light. Her violet gaze pierced the air like sharpened daggers, and every step she took seemed to resonate in the ground like a war drum. "Do you really think you can… stop me, Zayn?" she called, her voice a mixture of challenge and pain, the accumulated anger for protecting her sister transformed into a tangible force that enveloped her hands in a burning luminous aura.
Zayn inhaled deeply, the water around him vibrating with each beat of his heart. "Cynthia… you don't understand yet…" he murmured, his voice almost poetic amid the tumult of crackling energy. He raised his hands, and the water of his Primal Waterpulse spread out like a living veil, undulating, swirling, and capturing the sunlight streaming through the window. Every suspended droplet seemed to dance in the air, capturing space, each crystalline reflection forming a moving kaleidoscope of power and beauty.
Then, without another word, he surged forward. His body slid with the fluidity of a wave, moving almost as if he were floating in a waking dream. Jets of water struck the floor and walls, pushing the air around him and creating swirling suspended droplets. Every movement was a poem in action, a ballet of energy and pure force. Cynthia tried to strike again, her spheres of blessed light darting toward him with inhuman speed, but Zayn, in his Waterpulse form, dodged, turned, and countered with crystalline jets of water that shattered the spheres into a thousand sparkling fragments.
"You… you're incredible!" Cynthia shouted, almost stunned by the beauty and power of the transformation. But the hatred and fraternal love driving her left no room for respite. She focused her strength, her hands glowing with an even more intense golden light, and charged. The very air seemed to bend to her will, and each movement projected waves of light onto the floor and walls.
Zayn, still for a moment, watched her motion calmly, a strange smile on his lips. "You rush headlong… as always…" he murmured almost to himself, but the whisper carried through the air, charged with challenge. He raised his arms, and the water around him concentrated into a whirlwind rising like a column of liquid crystal. The mass of water seemed almost conscious, pulsing with Zayn's will, ready to respond to every movement of Cynthia.
The final clash erupted with the violence of a raging ocean. Crystalline water and Cynthia's blessed spheres collided with a roar that made the room tremble, scattering shards of light and water in all directions. The floor vibrated, the walls shook, and every suspended particle in the air captured the instant as an eternity. Zayn, both master and element, spun in fluid motion, striking with a focused jet that enveloped Cynthia in a wave of pure energy. She was thrown backward, her body hitting the wall with a dull thud, but she rose again, breathless, eyes still burning with rage and determination.
"Stop…" murmured Yojuro, his blue eyes fixed on the spectacle, attempting to channel calm amid the storm. But Zayn did not listen, every fiber of his being vibrating to protect, to repel violence, and to channel the power of Waterpulse. The droplets suspended around them formed a luminous halo, a bridge between rage and control, between destruction and beauty, a ballet of energy turning every gesture into poetry.
Zayn shouted, a sound resonating through the walls like crystalline thunder, and the water vortex contracted into a focused jet, shining like crystal under the sun, rushing toward Cynthia. She dodged with agility, but the impact forced her to bend her knees slightly, a half-frightened, half-admiring smile on her face. "You… you are…" she murmured, but no words could capture what she saw: a raw force, beautiful and terrible at once, a Primal embodying power and human will fused.
Zayn, eyes locked on her, synchronized his breathing with the water flow, each movement calculated, each pulse measured. "Cynthia… I don't want to destroy you… but I can't let you hurt anyone else!" His cry was both warning and promise, and the water reacted like a living being, forming a swirling barrier refracting light, absorbing attacks, and preparing to counterattack with deadly grace.
Cynthia, breathless, rose to her feet, sweat beading her forehead, her black kimono clinging to her skin. "Then… I have no choice…" she murmured, her hands preparing a new strike, blessed energy concentrated to the maximum, ready to pierce the crystalline wave before her.
Zayn gave one last smile, a spark of defiance in his green eyes, and whispered to himself, "Very well… let me show you… what a Primal truly is…"
The crystalline whirlwind slowly faded, its luminous fragments disappearing like shooting stars in a dark sky. Zayn, still breathless but alert, watched Cynthia with a triumphant smile, his green eyes sparkling with renewed energy. "This… is you I underestimated…" he murmured, gradually regaining control of the room, the water jets still trembling with residual power.
For a moment, it seemed the entire world held its breath. The glimmers of light danced around their bodies like suspended fireflies, silence broken only by ragged breathing and the faint crackle of dissipating energy. Cynthia, exhausted and unsteady, rose slowly, her hands still glowing with blessed energy. Her violet eyes shone with a mixture of anger and fatigue. "So… now, what are you going to do?" she asked, her voice trembling but full of challenge.
Zayn opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly, a piercing alarm rang in his mind. A metallic cry, a warning from Borealis, shook his soul like internal thunder. "What…?" he murmured, panic piercing his voice for the first time since the battle began. The water around him slowly dissipated, his Primal Waterpulse transforming back, vanishing like an ephemeral dream, leaving the young man panting, covered in droplets and exhaustion.
"Aurora… what's happening?" Zayn shouted, worry threading his words, hands trembling over Borealis. Aurora's voice resonated in his mind, clear but grave, like the toll of a distant bell: "Zayn… the Guilthitree… it's out of energy… and so are you."
The world seemed to collapse around him. Fear, raw and visceral, gripped his throat. He could feel his heart pounding in his temples, sweat beading on his forehead, and every fiber of his body screamed impending danger. "No… not now… not after everything…" he murmured, as if saying it could stave off the inevitable.
Cynthia, sensing the change in the air, straightened more fully, her violet eyes glinting like two precious stones in the dim light. "So… now, what will you do?" she repeated, but this time with a hint of fear in her voice. Zayn tried to smile, a hand raised as if to calm the storm. "Cynthia… I… I'll… I'll get through this. Don't worry…" he stammered, but the underlying panic in his words was impossible to hide.
Yojuro, silent until then, finally stepped forward. His stride was heavy but firm, each movement an anchor of calm amid the chaos. His sky-blue eyes, deep and penetrating, met Cynthia's. "Stop…" he said simply, yet every word echoed in the room, suspended in the air like a sacred breath. "Stop fighting against me… against him… against yourself."
Cynthia, breathless and trembling, turned her head, short of breath, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. Yojuro continued, his voice soft and unwavering: "You don't have to carry it all alone. What you feel… what you think is your fault… it's not your burden. No one can control everything, no one can protect those they love every moment."
The words penetrated like light in the darkness of her heart. Cynthia felt the weight of her anger and pain crack, letting in a fragility she had long suppressed. Her shoulders shook, and her hands clenched her kimono. Tears rolled down her cheeks, silent yet relentless, each drop carrying the weight of helplessness and love for her sister.
"I… I couldn't protect her…" she murmured, her voice broken, curling almost inward on herself. Yojuro placed a hand on her shoulder, firm yet gentle. "And yet… you are here. You may not have protected her perfectly, but you are here for her. And for everyone who needs you. That's what matters."
Zayn, still trembling, watched them, his breath irregular and his heart beating like a wild drum. He suddenly understood that the true battle wasn't just against the enemy, but against fear, despair, and the guilt gnawing at each of them. He saw Cynthia crying for her sister, and he saw Yojuro, silent but strong, supporting her with patience and wisdom.
A silence settled then, heavy and sweet at once, where every breath counted. The danger had not gone, the Guilthitree was still weak, and their energy was waning. But in this suspended moment, humanity, fragility, and strength intertwined in a living poem, a brief respite at the heart of an imminent storm.
Cynthia, tears in her eyes, finally lifted her gaze to Yojuro, her voice trembling yet sincere: "Thank you… I… I didn't know…" Her words were simple, but carried a whole world of gratitude and relief.
Zayn, feeling his body weaken but his spirit rise, murmured to Aurora: "We need to recharge… quickly…" And Aurora's gentle yet pressing voice replied: "Act with caution, Zayn… time is no longer for lightness."
The three silhouettes, in the middle of the room marked by battle, formed a fragile yet powerful triangle: Zayn, at the center of his worry and determination; Yojuro, the silent and protective anchor; and Cynthia, moved and vulnerable, yet still ready to rise for what mattered most to her.
The fight had been halted, not by brute force, but by silent truth, by the bonds and recognition of human fragility. Every breath, every tear, every exchanged word became a note in a poetic symphony, a reminder that even at the heart of violence and chaos, hope could exist, fragile but bright, like a star suspended in darkness.