[Vol 2.] Chapter 4: Preparation

The first light of dawn crept softly through the narrow window, spilling pale silver across the room. It touched the smooth crystal floor, casting faint glimmers that danced like restless spirits. The dorm was quiet — too quiet. Yuki lay still beneath her thin blanket, her dark hair spread like a shadow over the pillow, her breathing slow but uneasy. She blinked awake, eyes tracing the soft shapes of the room around her: the crescent-shaped couch, the floating tea table, and the lunar insignias that pulsed faintly on the walls like distant stars. Everything seemed calm, peaceful. She pulled the blanket off her body, the cool morning air brushing against her skin and ruffling the strands of her long black hair. Sitting up slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, planting her feet on the smooth crystal floor. Yuki arched her back and reached her arms high above her head, stretching out the lingering stiffness from sleep. Each movement felt deliberate, a small ritual to prepare herself for the day ahead. Her muscles lengthened and loosened, the quiet creaks of joints waking up filling the stillness of the room. With a deep breath, she lowered her arms and glanced around the space, The outfit was a seamless blend of sleekness and rugged defiance, a deep black that swallowed light and seemed to absorb the very atmosphere around her. The jacket itself was crafted from a matte, almost velvety fabric with a subtle rough weave that hinted at durability without sacrificing mobility. It hugged her torso tightly, sculpting around her ribs and waist like a second skin, tailored with expert precision to emphasize her slender yet strong frame. Its collar rose sharply around her neck, an angular statement of quiet rebellion that framed her jawline with unwavering authority. But it was the jacket’s edges that truly captured attention: the hem and cuffs were shredded into jagged, uneven strips, ragged and torn as if clawed at in moments of desperation or battle. The fabric hung in wild, irregular fringes that fluttered slightly with her every movement, catching faint glimmers of light and shadow in their uneven folds. These ragged edges weren’t mere stylistic choices — they told stories, scars woven into fabric, evidence of hard-won survival and relentless grit. Where the jacket parted open across her chest, a simple, matte black bra was visible — minimalist in design but flawlessly fitting. The soft curves beneath the torn jacket revealed a balance of strength and vulnerability, a subtle declaration that beneath the rough exterior was a person both guarded and real. The bra’s smooth fabric contrasted gently against the textured jacket, the only softness amid the garment’s deliberate harshness. Her sleeves fit like gloves, wrapping tight around her arms and ending just past her wrists. The torn cuffs echoed the jagged hem, raw and unfinished, allowing her freedom of movement without restriction or weight. No metal or armor softened the lines; instead, the fabric alone carried the aura of someone unyielding, moving with grace and lethal precision. The pants were equally precise — made of the same deep black fabric, slick and seamless, stretching snugly over her hips and thighs. They clung tightly, allowing full freedom of motion while enhancing her silhouette, functional yet undeniably sharp in style. The pants disappeared into sturdy black boots, practical yet styled with subtle angular patterns etched into their matte surface. The dorm bathroom was quiet except for the faint hum of the flickering fluorescent lights overhead. The sterile white tiles and mirrored walls framed her as she stood alone, a solitary figure preparing for what was to come. The cold air brushed against her skin as she reached for the jacket hanging on the hook, the fabric cool and inviting beneath her fingertips. With deliberate care, she lifted the jacket and slid it over her head, feeling it glide down her back with a whisper-soft rustle. The rough weave clung to her skin, a familiar weight that grounded her. One arm slipped into the sleeve, the fabric stretching slightly to accommodate her muscle, then the other. She tugged the jagged hem down with a smooth motion, adjusting the torn edges so they fell just right — wild and unpredictable, but controlled in their chaos. She raised her hands to the collar, fingers brushing over the sharp lines as she straightened it, framing her face with that same silent defiance. Her gaze locked with her own reflection in the mirror — eyes sharp, steady, and unwavering. The subtle reveal of the black bra beneath the open chest of the jacket felt like a quiet secret, a reminder that beneath the tough exterior lay layers of complexity. She exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she ran a hand through her hair, dark strands falling loose in gentle waves. The outfit wasn’t just clothes — it was a statement, a second skin, a shield made not of steel but of willpower and resilience. Standing there, wrapped in the shadowy fabric with its ragged edges fluttering softly, she was ready — to move, to fight, to face whatever the future held with unshakable resolve. She stepped out of the dorm bathroom, the soft scrape of her boots against the tiled floor echoing faintly in the quiet hallway. The dim lighting cast subtle shadows along her silhouette, the jagged edges of her black jacket swaying gently with each confident stride. Her dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders, slightly tousled, framing her face with an effortless intensity. Ren and Kaia were nearby, chatting softly, when they caught sight of her. Both instantly fell silent, their eyes widening in surprise. Ren’s brows rose, a flicker of astonishment crossing her face. She glanced at Kaia, then back, her gaze lingering on the slightly exposed black bra beneath the open chest of the jacket. It was a bold look, unexpected and striking. Kaia’s cheeks flushed faintly, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “That jacket… it’s really different on you,” she said, her eyes never leaving the subtle reveal. Ren nodded slowly, still a little stunned. “Yeah… I wasn’t expecting that,” she admitted quietly, nodding toward the open chest area. There was a mix of respect and surprise in her tone. She noticed their reactions but said nothing, a small, confident smile playing on her lips. This outfit was hers — fierce, unapologetic, and perfectly fitting the strength she carried. The two exchanged a quick glance before looking back at her, silently acknowledging the shift. The message was clear: she was ready to stand out, no matter what anyone thought. “Well, I’m heading to tech support — you know, the place for people who can’t use powers,” she said, her voice calm but tight with a hint of frustration. “Which one of you girls wants to come with me?” Ren and Kaia both paused, exchanging looks. Ren gave a small, understanding nod. “I’ll come. Someone’s gotta have your back.” Kaia smiled softly, folding her arms. “Yeah, can’t just let you wander into that mess alone.” She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her choice settle over her. No powers, no tricks — just her and whatever tech help they could find. But with Ren and Kaia beside her, maybe that was enough. The three of them started down the hall, footsteps light but purposeful. The torn edges of her jacket swayed slightly as she walked, a quiet reminder that even without powers, she was ready to face whatever came next. The three girls moved through the dormitory hallways, their footsteps echoing softly against the walls. The tension lingered in the air, but the familiar presence of Ren and Kaia eased the tight knot in her chest. “So, what exactly do they do at this tech support place?” Kaia asked, glancing sideways with a teasing smile. “Like, do they actually fix people who can’t use powers, or is it more like... training?” Ren shrugged but kept her eyes forward. “It’s a mix, I think. They help you understand your abilities better, give you gadgets or tech to compensate if your powers don’t work—or, in some cases, if you don’t have any.” She chuckled dryly. “Yeah, that’s me. No powers. Just me and whatever tech I can get.” Kaia raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. “That’s gotta be rough, but also kind of badass. You don’t rely on powers, so you gotta be smarter.” “Exactly,” she said, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I’m not asking for sympathy. Just some tools and maybe a little guidance.” Ren gave her a supportive smile. “You’ll get it. You’re tougher than most powered kids I know.” They turned a corner and soon spotted the door marked “Tech Support.” The faint hum of machines and the soft glow of screens spilled into the hallway. With a steadying breath, she stepped forward, ready for whatever came next — and grateful to have Ren and Kaia by her side. They stepped through the door into the softly lit tech support room, where the quiet hum of machines filled the space. At a sleek desk cluttered with gadgets and glowing screens, a young man was absorbed in adjusting a complex device, his fingers deftly moving over the controls. The moment he noticed them entering, he looked up, a friendly smile spreading across his face. “Hey there! You must be the new ones. Welcome to tech support. How can I help you today?” His tone was warm but professional, instantly putting the room at ease. Yuki stepped forward confidently, her eyes meeting the man’s with steady resolve. “Good afternoon. My name’s Yuki Takahashi. I’m a null, so I’m looking for equipment that can actually help me—something to give me an edge, especially for the upcoming trial training camp.” The tech specialist nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “Got it, Yuki. We’ve got a few things designed specifically for those without powers or who need a boost.” He rose from his desk and motioned toward a nearby display table. “Let me show you some options.” He held up a sleek wrist device dotted with tiny buttons and glowing indicators. “This is a multi-functional assistive bracelet. It enhances physical response time and can interface with tech around the training grounds.” Yuki glanced at it, then shook her head slightly. “Not really my style. I need something more... direct. Are there any swords or melee weapons I could use?” The tech guy’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely. We have several advanced blades designed for enhanced handling and durability. Come this way.” He led her to a rack where several swords were displayed, each with sleek, futuristic designs — some with lightweight alloys, others embedded with energy-conducting materials to add cutting power without magic. “This one,” he said, lifting a slender blade with a dark, matte finish, “is balanced for speed and precision. Perfect if you want to rely on skill and technique rather than powers.” Yuki reached out, gripping the hilt carefully. The weight felt just right — not too heavy, not too light. “This... this could work.” The tech specialist smiled. “Glad to hear it. We can customize it further if you want. Add grips, change the balance — whatever helps you fight your best.” Yuki held the sword thoughtfully, weighing its balance in her hands. Then she looked up at the tech specialist with a focused expression. “Is there any way to have it secured around my waist—but not on the side, more like on the back? And could you add a chain or strap attached to the back of the hilt that wraps around half of my arm whenever I draw it? That way, it stays connected to me but doesn’t get in the way.” The tech guy nodded, impressed by her attention to detail. “That’s a smart idea. We can rig up a custom sheath that sits snugly at the small of your back, keeping the sword out of your peripheral vision but still within quick reach. And the chain mechanism can be designed with flexible, lightweight materials that wrap comfortably around your forearm as you pull the blade out — giving you control without restricting movement.” He tapped a few commands on a nearby tablet. “It’ll also have quick-release features, so you can disengage the chain if you need full freedom during combat.” Yuki’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. That sounds exactly like what I need.” The tech specialist smiled, clearly pleased. “Give me a day or two to customize it, and I’ll have it ready for you to test.” She nodded, a small grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks. I’ll be counting on it.” Ren and Kaia exchanged impressed looks, clearly recognizing that this wasn’t just a simple request — it was a carefully thought-out plan for how Yuki intended to fight. They followed the tech specialist down a brightly lit corridor that ended at a door labeled “Lunar Equipment.” Inside, the room was filled with sleek displays of weapons, armor, and gadgets, each designed to harmonize with the unique powers of Power Moon users. Kaia’s eyes immediately locked onto a glowing, elegant staff that pulsed with a soft, green light—the perfect match for her Waxing Crescent Bloomcaster abilities. The tech specialist handed it to her with a knowing smile. “This staff enhances your bloom magic during the Waxing Crescent phase, amplifying your control over plant life and growth.” Meanwhile, Ren was drawn to a pair of sleek, curved blades etched with moonphase runes that shimmered faintly in the dim light. “For a Last Quarter Bladeborn like you,” the tech specialist explained, “these blades adjust their sharpness and weight based on your moon phase, optimizing your combat effectiveness.” Ren gripped the blades, feeling their balance and power sync with her rhythm. “These feel incredible,” she said, a rare smile breaking through. Yuki watched her friends with a quiet satisfaction, knowing that while she relied on tech and skill, they wielded powers deeply connected to the moon itself. Together, they were ready for whatever the trial training camp could throw at them. A few days later, Yuki stepped back into the tech support room, the familiar hum of machinery greeting her. The tech specialist looked up from his workstation and smiled warmly. “Yuki! Just in time. Your custom sword is ready.” She crossed her arms, eyes sharp with anticipation. “Let’s see if it’s everything we talked about.” He handed her the sleek sword, its matte black blade gleaming under the fluorescent light. The jagged edges of the custom sheath sat snugly at the back of the sword’s hilt, and a lightweight chain was attached just where she requested. Yuki strapped the sword around her waist, the sheath resting perfectly on the small of her back. She slid her arm into the chain loop connected to the hilt. It wrapped smoothly around her forearm, feeling secure but not restrictive. “Alright,” she said, stepping back into an open area inside the tech room. She drew the sword in one fluid motion. The chain tightened gently around her arm as the blade slid free, perfectly synced with her movement. She swung the blade experimentally, testing its balance. The weight felt just right—light enough for quick strikes but solid enough for power. “This feels amazing.” The tech specialist nodded approvingly. “Glad to hear it. The quick-release mechanism works too if you need to disengage.” Yuki gave a slight smile, then ran through a series of slashes and spins, each movement smooth and precise. “I think this is exactly what I needed.” Ren and Kaia, watching from the doorway, exchanged impressed glances. “Looks like you’re ready to take on anything,” Ren said with a grin. “Yeah,” Kaia added, “with that sword, you’re definitely not just the ‘null’ anymore.” Yuki sheathed the blade, her expression calm but determined. “Power or no power, I’m ready.” They exited the tech support room together, the weight of new gear settling comfortably on each of them. The hallway outside was quieter now, the afternoon sun filtering softly through the windows. Their footsteps echoed lightly on the polished floor as they walked side by side, a calm confidence in their stride. Yuki’s grip tightened slightly on the sword sheathed at her back, still savoring the feel of it. Ren and Kaia chatted quietly about their own equipment, but Yuki’s thoughts were momentarily elsewhere—focused, alert. Without warning, Yuki suddenly collided with someone rushing the opposite way. She stumbled back slightly, looking up to meet the cold, sharp gaze of a tall male clad in sleek lunar-themed gear. His presence was commanding, marked by the silver insignia on his chest—the emblem of a Rising Lunar, Rank B. “Watch where you’re going,” he snapped, his voice laced with arrogance. “Don’t waste my time with clumsy fools.” Yuki’s eyes narrowed instantly, her patience snapping. “Excuse me? You bumped me just as much as I bumped into you.” The man smirked, stepping closer, his aura pulsing with the raw, balanced energy characteristic of a Full Moon Lunarch. “You’re lucky I don’t make a habit of punishing those who can’t keep up. How about a duel? Prove you’re not just some weak null pretending to be something.” The words struck a nerve, igniting a fire in Yuki’s chest. She squared her shoulders, hand drifting instinctively toward the hilt of her sword. “Fine. I’m not here to play games, but if you want a duel, you’ve got one.” Ren and Kaia exchanged worried looks but stepped back, giving Yuki room as the tension in the hall thickened. The man’s smirk deepened. “Good. Let’s see if you’re worth the trouble.” The rising tension between Yuki and the Rank B Lunarch was impossible to ignore. Their energies—one blazing with raw defiance, the other radiating refined lunar power—crackled through the hallway. Within moments, a nearby student had already sent a quick message through the school’s system. [Duel Alert: Rank B Rising Lunar vs Null Student – Hall Sector 4] The alert pinged across devices, echoing through dorm rooms, training halls, and lounge areas. Students began pouring into the corridors, murmurs and excitement building like a wave. The idea of a duel was always enough to draw a crowd—but a null challenging a Full Moon Lunarch? That was unheard of. Among the flood of students rushing toward Sector 4 was Zach, pushing through the crowd with urgency written all over his face. His eyes scanned frantically—until he spotted her, standing firm in the middle of the corridor, her hand resting calmly on the hilt of her new sword. “Yuki!” he called out, jogging up beside her, breath slightly uneven. “Are you okay? I saw the alert—what the hell’s going on?” Yuki didn’t turn to him at first. Her gaze was locked on her opponent, who stood across the hallway with a smug expression, clearly enjoying the growing spectacle. “I’m fine,” she said, voice low but steady. “Don’t worry about me.” Zach frowned. “Yuki, he’s a Rank B Full Moon—” She finally turned her head, giving him a small, confident smile. “Yeah. And I’m a ‘null,’ remember? I’ve got something to prove.” The crowd had begun to circle around them now, creating a natural arena out of the hallway. Whispers swirled: “That’s Yuki Takahashi, right?” “She doesn’t even have powers…” “Is she insane? He’s a Lunarch!” “Look at her sword though…” Ren and Kaia stood off to the side, both tense but trusting. They knew Yuki wouldn’t back down—not from this. The Lunarch cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. “If you’re done with your little pep talk, let’s get started.” Yuki took one calm step forward “Try not to regret this.” A tense silence fell over the crowd. The air between the two fighters shimmered with raw energy—Lunar magic pulsing from one side, sheer determination radiating from the other. The Lunarch cracked his neck and smirked. “Don’t blink, null.” Yuki’s eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then—BOOM! They launched toward each other at full speed, fists drawn back and charged with everything they had. In an instant, their knuckles collided dead center, a massive shockwave erupting from the impact. A burst of compressed air exploded outward, sending loose papers flying, light fixtures flickering, and students stumbling back, shielding their faces from the sudden gust. The clash created a brief stalemate… until Yuki’s stance slipped. Her balance faltered for just a split second—just enough. The Lunarch’s eyes flashed silver, and he snarled, “Got you.” Before she could recover, his palm crashed against her shoulder with overwhelming force—BOOM! Yuki went flying, her body slamming into the wall like a ragdoll. Concrete cracked around her on impact, dust and fragments falling to the floor. Her breath caught in her throat as pain radiated through her back. But he wasn’t done. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Lunarch vanished in a blur of light—reappearing directly in front of her before her feet even touched the ground again. CRACK! His fist rammed hard into her gut. “Guh—!” Yuki gasped, the air torn from her lungs. The force launched her like a bullet—smashing her clean through the wall behind her, debris exploding outward into the next corridor. Students nearby ducked and screamed as she skidded across the floor, coughing, clutching her side, but already trying to push herself back up. The crowd went dead silent, stunned by the sheer brutality. The Lunarch stood tall in the first hallway, stepping slowly through the rubble. “Still think you belong on the battlefield?” he taunted, his voice echoing off the walls. Yuki wiped the blood from her lip, one knee on the ground, eyes narrowed with unshaken fire. She grabbed her sword and rose shakily to her feet. “…I’m just getting started.” Dust still hung in the air as Yuki slowly rose to her feet, her breathing uneven, pain pulsing through her side. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of her blade, chain already coiling subtly along her forearm. Her glare locked onto the Lunarch, fire burning behind her eyes. She pulled the sword just an inch from its sheath—ready to show him she wasn’t someone to be underestimated. But a stern voice suddenly cut through the chaos like a whip. “Weapons are not allowed in a friendly duel. Please put it away.” A tall figure stepped between them—Instructor Renshiro, known for his no-nonsense presence and strict code. His arms were crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on Yuki. “This is a sanctioned hand-to-hand only. Don’t make me end it here.” Yuki froze, jaw tightening. Her blood boiled beneath her skin. She could still feel the ache in her stomach from the last hit, and now they were telling her to hold back? She exhaled sharply through her nose, frustrated. “Tch…” Her hand slowly dropped from her hilt. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. Because the next second— She rushed straight at the Lunarch. No sword. No hesitation. Just raw fury and focus. He barely had time to react before her fist slammed toward him, his arm instinctively blocking—but she didn’t stop. She drove her knee up into his ribs, forcing him back a step, then followed with a sharp left hook. He countered. Their fists collided again with a crack that sent ripples through the floor. Sparks of lunar energy clashed with her momentum-fueled aggression. Every strike was faster, sharper, wilder. The crowd erupted. “She’s still going?!” “She’s fighting him evenly—without a quirk!” “This is insane!” Yuki ducked under a wide swing, pivoted, and slammed her elbow into his side, the force making him grunt. He retaliated instantly, bringing his forearm down across her shoulder and sweeping her leg. She fell—but twisted mid-air, kicking him square in the chest as she hit the ground and knocking him back into a wall. They both stood, breathing hard, bloodied knuckles clenched. Neither one said a word—but in their eyes, it was clear: This wasn’t just a duel anymore. It was personal. The two combatants stood across from one another, bloodied, bruised, but unrelenting. Yuki wiped the edge of her mouth with the back of her hand. Her lip was split. Her knuckles were raw. But her eyes—fierce and focused—showed no sign of backing down. The Lunarch cracked his neck, rolling his shoulder with a smug grin. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” Yuki said nothing. Then they moved. At the exact same moment, both fighters launched forward—Yuki breaking into a sprint before leaping into the air, body twisting mid-jump. She came down with a full-force aerial roundhouse kick, her leg cutting through the air like a blade. At the same time, the Lunarch roared forward, pulling back his fist—a punch charged with concentrated Full Moon energy, glowing faintly with white force. CRACK—!! Yuki’s boot and his fist collided mid-air. But what was strange—was they didn’t actually touch. Instead, the sheer force and pressure between the two attacks pressed against one another, suspended in space. The clash of raw momentum and energy created a visible distortion—airwaves folding and twisting violently between them. Then—BOOM! A deafening shockwave burst outward in all directions. Windows lining the hallway shattered instantly, glass exploding like shards of ice. Students screamed and shielded themselves. Walls trembled. Lockers bent. Even light panels flickered as the entire corridor quaked under the pressure. Ren and Kaia stepped back instinctively, eyes wide in disbelief. And then— Instructor Renshiro moved. Faster than either of them could react. He appeared between the two in a flash of motion, expression dead serious. With one hand, he caught Yuki’s foot mid-air, stopping her momentum cold. With the other, he grabbed the Lunarch’s fist, just inches from impact. The shockwave stopped. The force dispersed like smoke in the wind. “That’s enough!” Renshiro’s voice roared, echoing like thunder. “One more move like that, and the next thing broken won’t be the windows—it’ll be this entire school!” With a sharp motion, he threw both of them in opposite directions, sending Yuki skidding backward across the ground and the Lunarch crashing against the far wall. Silence dropped like a weight across the corridor. The tension broke, replaced by awe, shock… and the realization that this duel had gone far beyond its limits. Yuki slowly sat up, her breath heavy, her hair hanging in her face. She clenched her jaw but said nothing. The Lunarch coughed, brushing debris off his shoulder, his smugness faded into something more focused... and uncertain. Instructor Renshiro straightened, adjusting his cuffs as his eyes scanned the now-ruined hallway. “Duel is over. No exceptions. Both of you—report to the Head Council. Now.” The heavy chamber doors groaned open as Instructor Renshiro led Yuki and Kain Dravien into the solemn and cold Head Council Chamber, bathed in a pale lunar-blue glow. Seven high-backed chairs, elevated in a crescent arc, were occupied by the Lunar Academy's ruling council. At the center, Councilor Rya, poised and sharp-eyed in her silver robes, cut directly through them with her gaze as they stepped forward. "Yuki Takahashi. Kain Dravien," she stated, her tone as cold as her expression. "A null student and a Full Moon Lunarch. A public duel that escalated into near-catastrophe. You both stand here not as examples of power—but of recklessness.” Councilor Varell, a stern, older man with a jagged scar, leaned forward. “You shattered property, endangered dozens of students, and forced a high-ranking instructor to intervene. Over what? Ego?” Yuki’s fists tightened. “He challenged me,” she said evenly. “He insulted me—mocked me for not having powers. I stood my ground.” Kain scoffed. “I didn’t expect her to nearly level the place over a little tap.” Councilor Rya’s eyes narrowed at him. “And yet, you, a ranked student with refined Full Moon energy, chose to provoke a duel with someone unarmed and unranked.” Councilor Lira, a younger member, added, “Regardless of motive, the fallout was unacceptable. You both need to understand that strength without restraint is a threat—not an asset.” She turned to Instructor Renshiro. “What’s your recommendation?” He calmly replied, “Separate disciplinary tracks. No shared training. No joint punishments. They clearly don’t mix—and we’re not interested in another incident.” Councilor Rya nodded. “Agreed.” She stood slowly, her voice ringing with finality. “Yuki Takahashi: You are banned from all unsanctioned combat until after the Trial Training Camp. That includes duels, sparring, or challenge requests of any kind. Break this, and you’re out of the academy.” Yuki gave a short nod, jaw clenched. “Understood.” “Dravien,” Rya said, turning to Kain. “You’ve proven you're powerful—but you’ve also proven you lack control. Your rank privileges are temporarily suspended. You'll be moved down to provisional status for two weeks and assigned to a high-discipline training sector under faculty watch.” “What?” Kain took a step forward. “You’re docking my rank over her?” “You should be grateful we’re not expelling you,” Councilor Varell snapped. The silence that followed was thick with weight. Then— “You’re dismissed,” Councilor Rya said. Renshiro opened the doors behind them. Yuki turned without another word, stepping out of the chamber, her eyes forward, her breath slow. Behind her, she heard Kain mutter something bitter under his breath—but she didn’t care. She wasn’t walking away in defeat. She was walking away alive—and more determined than ever. The heavy doors of the council chamber closed behind her with a deep, echoing thud. Yuki let out a quiet breath through her nose, tension still clinging to her shoulders like a second skin. Her knuckles were bruised, her ribs still ached, and her pride—though intact—was sore from the whole ordeal. As she walked down the steps outside the council hall, she barely made it halfway before hearing a familiar voice: “Yuki!” She looked up just in time to see Zack jogging toward her, worry written all over his face. A step behind him were Kaia and Ren, their eyes locked on her like hawks. Zack slowed as he approached, his voice low and filled with concern. “We heard about the council. Are you okay? What happened in there?” Yuki gave a short nod, adjusting the strap of her jacket and muttering, “I’m not expelled, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kaia folded her arms. “Not expelled is good… but what’s the damage?” “They’re putting me on combat lockdown until after the training camp,” Yuki replied, her tone calm but tight. “No duels. No sparring. No exceptions. Not even if I get challenged.” Ren raised an eyebrow. “You’re seriously grounded for defending yourself?” “Apparently defending myself almost leveled half a hallway,” Yuki said dryly, the corner of her lip twitching upward. “Guess I’m scarier than I thought.” Zack looked her over again, his eyes briefly scanning the bruises peeking through her collar. “He got you pretty bad, didn’t he?” Yuki shrugged. “Yeah. But I gave it back.” Kaia grinned. “You did more than that. Word’s already spreading—everyone’s saying a null girl nearly knocked a Full Moon through the floor.” Ren smirked slightly. “You’re a walking urban legend now.” Yuki rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the faintest smile. “Great. Just what I needed.” Zack stepped closer, his voice a little softer. “You sure you’re okay, though? Like… really?” She glanced at him, then the other two. Their faces weren’t mocking or pitying—they were just there. Waiting. Supporting. “I’m sore,” she admitted finally. “But yeah. I’m okay.” Kaia nudged her shoulder playfully. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna need that sword arm for the training camp.” Yuki cracked her knuckles. “That’s the plan.” The four of them walked slowly back toward the dorms, the evening sun casting long shadows along the marble pathway. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, leaving behind only bruises, silence, and the occasional chuckle from Kaia about Yuki’s "legend status." Yuki walked a little behind the others, hands shoved into her jacket pockets, head lowered slightly. Her body ached with every step—more than she was letting on. Each breath felt tighter than the last, and the dull pounding in her ribs had turned sharp, biting deeper with every movement. “Training camp’s in three days,” Ren was saying up ahead. “Think they’re gonna pair us based on rank again?” “No way,” Kaia replied. “Not after today. Yuki just rewrote the entire power curve.” Zack looked over his shoulder at her. “Yuki, you good?” Yuki blinked. “Y-Yeah,” she murmured, forcing a weak smirk. “Just... tired.” But even as the words left her lips, her knees gave out. Her vision blurred. The ground tilted. A loud ringing filled her ears as the air was ripped from her lungs. “Yuki!” Zack shouted. Thud. Her body collapsed onto the pavement. Zack was the first to reach her, dropping to his knees. “Yuki—hey, hey! Stay with me!” Ren was beside him in an instant, checking her pulse. “She’s burning up—and her breathing’s shallow.” Kaia looked down at her with wide, worried eyes. “Those hits from the Lunarch... she took way more than she let on.” Zack clenched his jaw, lifting her gently but urgently into his arms. “We need to get her to the infirmary. Now.” Without another word, they took off down the path—Kaia rushing ahead to get help, Ren beside him the whole way. Yuki’s head rested limply against Zack’s chest, her breath faint, her face pale beneath the bruises. The infirmary doors slammed open with a sharp bang as Zack rushed inside, Yuki limp in his arms, the sterile scent of disinfectant and medicine hitting instantly as the room flooded with bright white light. Nurses immediately turned their heads. “She collapsed,” Zack said urgently. “Took multiple hits in a duel earlier—Lunarch level.” “Lay her down, now,” one of the nurses instructed as others rushed into motion. He placed Yuki gently on the nearest cot; her breathing was shallow, and sweat clung to her brow, blood having soaked slightly through the inside of her jacket. A nurse swiftly cut the fabric open to examine the damage while another pressed a scanner over her chest. “Fractured ribs. Internal bruising. She’s been pushing herself way beyond her limits,” the lead nurse muttered, setting up a lunar-stabilization unit. “I need adrenaline stabilizers and an energy dampener—her nervous system is overcompensating.” Ren and Kaia stood off to the side, watching in tense silence, fists clenched, worry carved into every expression. Zack stood frozen near the bed, his hand hovering near hers, unsure if he should hold it. “Come on, Yuki…” he whispered under his breath. “You’re tougher than this.” Beeping monitors echoed in the room as the medical team worked quickly. After stabilizers were injected and bandages wrapped tightly around her side, Yuki’s body finally eased—her breath softening into something less ragged. The nurses dimmed the lights. “She’s stable now,” the lead nurse said after several tense minutes. “She’ll need a day or two of monitored rest. But she’s not out of the woods. No visitors overnight.” Zack stepped forward. “Just tell me—will she be okay?” “With rest and no further strain? Yes. But if she pushes herself again like this... her body may not keep up with her willpower.” Reluctantly, Zack nodded and turned to leave, Kaia and Ren following behind him. But before they exited, Yuki stirred slightly—barely enough to be noticed. Her eyes fluttered half-open, and her voice, raspy and faint, called out: “…Zack?” He froze, spinning on his heel and rushing back to her side. “I’m here—right here.” She gave him a tired smirk, the barest curve of her lips. “Did I… win?” Zack gave a soft laugh, relief flooding his chest. “You scared the hell out of us… but yeah. You won, alright.” Her eyes fluttered shut again, but that smile lingered just long enough to give him peace. Zack’s foot hit the ground, and the world around him shifted. The familiar plaza faded into shadow, replaced by the eerie glow of a blood-red moon. He found himself floating just behind a battlefield long devastated—scorched earth littered with shattered moonsteel and cracked pavement. Before him loomed the ruins of a massive building, its heart torn out, twisted steel and broken glass rising like jagged teeth toward the sky. And there, perched calmly atop the wreckage, was Yuki. Her jacket was torn and stained with blood, her eyes darker—sharper—filled with a cold determination that chilled his bones. A pale silver half-mask, jagged like a crescent moon broken in two, covered the lower half of her face. The scene shifted without warning. Suddenly, he was no longer watching her from afar. Yuki was right in front of him now, on the rooftop of the crumbled building, her grip tight around his neck. He hung suspended, powerless. She spoke—but no sound escaped her lips. Words formed—shapes and movements—but nothing he could hear. Her eyes bore into his, fierce and urgent, as if trying to communicate something beyond speech. The wind tore at them, carrying the silent message away. Then, as abruptly as it came, the vision shattered. Zack gasped, heart pounding in the darkness of his room. Questions burned in his mind. What was she trying to say? Was this a warning? A promise? Or a threat?