The city hall remained quiet after the decision.
One of the council members stood and unrolled a document.
"The supervision we're proposing isn't simple, Airi."
Airi lifted her gaze. "…Explain."
"You are not allowed to leave the city without permission," he continued.
"Every use of your power must be reported. And—"
Nova cut in immediately. "That sounds like a polite prison."
"We call it security," the council replied coldly.
"If your power becomes unstable again… we have the right to stop you."
The word stop tightened the air.
Arou clenched his fist. "With what? Who in this city could even do that?"
No answer came.
Airi took a slow breath. "…So I'm a hero when you need me—"
she paused,
"—and a threat when you're afraid."
No one argued.
That silence was answer enough.
---
In the corner of the hall, the hooded man slipped away without a sound. As he passed through the shadows of a pillar, a faint smile appeared.
"Power that reacts to emotion…" he murmured.
"Not a curse… not ordinary magic."
He paused briefly.
"If this city hesitates, others will take interest."
---
Airi finally stood. "I'll accept the supervision."
Lumina looked startled. "Airi—"
"Not because I agree," Airi said calmly,
"but because I don't want this city to fall apart because of me."
Some of the council members looked relieved.
But Airi added, "Just remember one thing."
She met their eyes, one by one.
"I'm still human. Not your weapon."
Silence.
---
That evening, Airi walked home alone.
No cheers.
No gratitude.
Just a few glances that quickly looked away…
and others that lingered with caution.
She stopped in front of her house.
Same door.
Same yard.
But it felt different.
"…Is this still my home?" she whispered.
Chika stood at the doorway, watching her. "The council called you in."
Airi nodded.
Chika opened her mouth… then closed it again.
For once, she didn't know how to joke.
"Come inside," she said shortly.
As Airi stepped in, she felt it—
a distance forming.
Not from walls…
but from fear that hadn't faded.
Across the street, on a rooftop, the hooded figure watched.
"Abandoned by her own city…" he murmured.
"…perfect conditions."
He turned and vanished into the evening.
Airi didn't see him.
But that night, as she closed her eyes,
the golden threads pulsed faintly in her dreams—
as if warning her:
the next danger wouldn't come as an enemy.
---
The supervision began the next day.
No chains.
No prison.
Just people.
Two city guards stood near Airi's house from morning. Polite—too polite—but their eyes never left her. Every step she took was noted, every visitor observed.
"This is excessive," Nova muttered from behind the fence.
"They're waiting for a mistake."
Arou nodded. "Supervision that looks for failure."
Airi exhaled. "I chose this."
"Because you had to," Chika shot back. Arms crossed, clearly irritated.
"Being watched in your own home… what a joke."
---
Control training was scheduled that afternoon—on an empty field near the city wall.
A magical supervisor had been sent. His voice was flat, his notes precise.
"Use your power minimally," he said.
"Any deviation will be recorded."
Airi stood in the testing circle, trying to steady her breathing.
The golden threads didn't appear—
but something inside felt restrained, like pressure building beneath the surface.
"Again," the supervisor ordered.
Airi moved slightly faster—
the threads trembled.
"Stop," he said quickly.
"Note: emotional response increasing."
Airi clenched her jaw. "I haven't even done anything."
"That's exactly the problem," he replied coldly.
In the distance, whispers spread.
"Look… her aura changed."
"They say if she loses control—"
The session ended early.
Not because it failed—
but because it succeeded too much to be acceptable.
---
Meanwhile, outside the city, the hooded figure appeared before another council representative.
His tone was smooth. Measured.
"Your city stands at a crossroads," he said.
"To possess an unstable asset… is dangerous."
"What are you suggesting?" a council member asked.
"I represent a group that can help," he replied calmly.
"Research. Humane containment. Control."
Some faces showed interest.
Others hesitated.
"Think about it," he continued.
"If she truly loses control… you are not prepared."
A faint smile.
"Give me time."
---
That night, Airi sat alone on the porch.
The house lights were on, but everything felt cold.
The city sounded distant.
Chika came out with two cups, handing one over without a word.
They sat side by side.
"This place feels weird now," Chika said finally.
"Not because of you. Because of people."
Airi stared ahead. "I'm afraid… if I stay, things will only get worse."
Chika was quiet for a moment. Then, softly—no teasing this time:
"If you leave without a plan, that's worse."
Airi closed her eyes.
Behind them, the golden threads pulsed faintly—
not anger, but warning.
Across the street, the hooded figure watched again.
Not approaching.
Not yet.
"Soon," he murmured.
"The invisible chains will tighten."
Airi opened her eyes.
For some reason, she knew—
the next battle wouldn't be won by power.
But by choice.
---
The next morning, the guards arrived more formally than usual.
Not in armor—
but in clean robes and official expressions.
"Airi," one of them said,
"there's someone who wishes to meet you. With the council's approval."
Airi stood at the doorway. "Who?"
"An external consultant," he replied shortly.
"A specialist in power control."
The title sounded harmless.
Too harmless.
---
A small meeting room had been prepared in the city hall.
Quiet. Sparse. Curtains half-drawn.
The hooded figure sat inside.
He stood as Airi entered, lowering his hood just enough to reveal a polite smile—and sharp eyes.
"A pleasure to finally meet you," he said smoothly.
"You may call me Cael."
Airi didn't take his hand. "Get to the point."
Cael smiled faintly. "Straightforward. I like that."
He gestured to the seat across from him.
"We've observed your condition. Emotional response, energy manifestation… very rare."
"I'm not an object," Airi said flatly.
"Of course," Cael replied quickly.
"That's exactly why we want to help."
That word again.
Help.
"This city fears you," Cael continued, voice gentle.
"Not because you're evil—but because they don't understand."
Airi stayed silent.
"We offer a place where you can learn control," he said softly.
"No suspicious stares. No guards counting your every breath."
Airi looked at him sharply. "And in return?"
Cael smiled. "Transparency. Cooperation. You'll be safe—and so will the city."
"Sounds like a bigger cage," Airi replied.
"We call it centralized protection."
Airi stood. "I'm not interested."
Cael raised a hand. "Not finished."
He glanced at the curtained window.
"If you refuse, the city's supervision will tighten. One mistake—and you'll be blamed."
Silence.
"If you accept," he continued,
"your reputation is restored. The people are reassured. Your family… won't have to be afraid anymore."
That word lingered.
Family.
Airi's jaw tightened.
"I won't force you," Cael said quietly.
"Think about it. We'll wait… three days."
He adjusted his hood.
"And one more thing."
Cael met her eyes.
"Your power will choose its own path… if you don't choose first."
---
Outside, Airi stood still for a long moment.
The golden threads didn't appear—
but a faint pulse lingered behind her eyes.
Chika waited on the steps. "You look awful."
Airi gave a small smile. "I got an offer."
Chika frowned. "One that calms you… or calms everyone else?"
Airi didn't answer right away.
"I have three days," she said.
Chika glanced at the sky. "Then the problem isn't the offer."
"…Then what is?"
"Your choice," Chika replied.
"And who you're going to disappoint."
Airi exhaled slowly.
In the distance, Cael paused at a street corner, glancing back.
"Choose wisely," he murmured.
"Everyone loves a choice that feels free."
---
Three days passed.
The morning was bright—
too bright for a day that would decide everything.
Airi stood in front of the city hall.
Cael was already there, calm as ever.
Observers surrounded the area, their magical weapons not aimed—but ready.
Cael spoke first.
"Your time is up, Airi. What is your decision?"
Airi gripped the edge of her sleeve. Her chest felt tight—but she stepped forward.
"I—"
SCREEECH.
A sharp sound cut through the air.
A bat swooped low.
Everyone froze.
"…In broad daylight?" someone whispered.
The bat stopped midair.
Its wings twitched. Its shadow stretched—
then cracked.
Its body twisted, elongated, bones reshaping into a human silhouette.
In a single second—
ZATA stood there.
Airi froze.
Her face went pale, breath uneven. "N-no… not now…"
A faint tremor ran through the ground.
The observers panicked.
"UNKNOWN TARGET!"
"FIRE!!"
Blasts of light shot toward Zata—
but before they reached him,
they bent.
As if the world itself rejected their direction.
The attacks curved, twisted—
and flew back at their owners.
The observers were thrown back, weapons scattering, bodies hitting walls.
Cael stepped back once, his expression finally shifting. "…Interesting."
Zata turned lazily, his red eyes half-lidded. "Wow," he said casually.
"Warm welcome. I just dropped by."
Airi trembled violently. Her legs nearly gave out.
"D-don't come closer!" she cried, voice breaking.
Zata glanced at her, a faint smile forming.
"You're still scared, huh."
The golden threads hadn't appeared—
but a dark aura crept along Airi's shadow.
Cael raised a hand, forcing calm. "Who are you?"
Zata looked at him. "Me?"
A quiet chuckle.
"Someone you didn't invite… but who shows up at the perfect time."
He stepped forward.
The ground didn't shake—
but everyone stepped back instinctively.
"I'm not here to destroy your city," Zata continued.
"I just want to make sure of one thing."
He pointed at Airi.
"That her choice… is actually hers."
Airi stared at him, eyes wet, completely shaken.
"Le-leave… go away…"
Zata stopped.
For a moment—
his gaze softened.
"Then answer," he said quietly.
"Now."
All eyes turned to Airi.
Cael said nothing.
The observers lay scattered.
The sky remained bright—
but it felt like a storm was being held back.
Airi took a trembling breath.
And finally—