Beats and Sparks

The training hall was immersed in silence, so still that even the faintest echo of Axel’s breathing seemed to bounce off the tall stone walls. Shafts of midday sunlight streamed through the narrow windows high above, slicing the dimness into golden rectangles that lay stretched across the floor. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beams, each grain shimmering for an instant before fading back into the air.

Axel sat cross-legged in the center of the chamber, his palms wrapped carefully around the smooth sphere that Lucy had entrusted to him the day before. It was deceptively simple to the eye—round, polished, almost cold against the skin—but it pulsed faintly with a vibration that wasn’t entirely physical. The energy inside it hummed like a hidden current, elusive and demanding, inviting him to listen and respond.

He closed his eyes and searched for the memory of two days earlier, that fleeting instant when Lucy had pushed her own power into him. He could still recall the heat spreading through his chest, radiating outward as though his veins themselves had ignited. It had been overwhelming yet strangely clarifying, a surge that revealed the presence of something long dormant within him. That warmth, that rhythm—it was what he wanted to recapture.

He inhaled deeply, grounding himself in the moment, until a wet, sticky sound broke his concentration. It was the unmistakable noise of someone chewing with abandon. His brows furrowed; the silence he had cultivated shattered like fragile glass. Opening his eyes, he turned his head.

—“Lucy!?” he exclaimed.

There she was, sitting casually on the edge of a training bench, her legs swinging idly, a half-empty jar of jam in her hands. Her lips were stained red with sweetness, and she was licking them without the slightest trace of guilt.

Lucy jolted upright, startled, clutching the jar.
—“Oh! Sorry, sorry! I thought you were too focused to notice…”

Axel let out a long sigh, shaking his head with exasperation.
—“Honestly…”

Yet, despite his annoyance, he let the interruption slip away and returned to the task. He shut his eyes again, reclaiming the silence, rebuilding the fragile thread of focus. Breath by breath, he reached for the heat hidden inside the sphere, for that vibration that seemed to echo faintly in tune with his own body.

Then—a sudden thud on his shoulder snapped him back. He opened his eyes once more, glaring.

—“What are you doing?” he demanded.

Lucy withdrew her hand innocently, shrugging.
—“You were drifting off again. I thought you needed a reminder.”

Axel groaned in irritation, but his curiosity finally pushed through his frustration. He studied her, the perpetual clumsiness in her movements, the lightheartedness that colored nearly everything she did. Yet when it came to handling soul energy, she was precise, confident, even formidable.

—“Lucy, tell me something… You always seem distracted, careless, even a bit scatterbrained… and yet you master soul energy like it’s nothing. You even said healing requires enormous focus. How can you possibly pull that off?”

Lucy held his gaze for a heartbeat, then a sly grin spread across her face.
—“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She shifted closer, setting the jam aside, and for the first time that day her tone grew serious. Her posture straightened, her expression sharpened.

—“The trick is simple,” she said softly. “You have to empty your mind. In the beginning, to control energy, you can’t overthink it. You can’t force it. You just… feel. And I happen to be very good at not overthinking.”

Axel blinked, sweat already beading on his forehead.
—“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Lucy chuckled lightly.
—“Let me simplify it. All you need to do is hold the sphere. Don’t push, don’t force. Energy flows on its own. You’ll feel it resonating with you. Just… let it happen.”

He nodded reluctantly, clutching the sphere again. Closing his eyes, he waited. For a long moment nothing seemed to change—then gradually, almost imperceptibly, warmth seeped from the object into his palms.

—“It’s… getting hot,” he whispered.

—“Exactly,” Lucy affirmed, leaning closer to watch. “That warmth isn’t fire. It’s your energy resonating with the sphere. Focus only on that—on the heat, on the vibration syncing with you.”

Axel exhaled slowly, letting the sensation expand. With each heartbeat, he felt the sphere respond, pulsing back at him like an echo amplified, as though the object itself had a heart and was answering his own.

Lucy crossed her arms, satisfaction flickering in her eyes.
—“That’s what I triggered the other day. What I did is called Awakening. I lent a bit of my energy to yours, enough to stir what was still dormant inside you. It’s a way to make your soul listen to itself.”

Axel cracked one eye open, intrigued.
—“So that’s what I felt?”

—“Yes. But it’s dangerous. If you don’t do it precisely, you can tear someone apart inside. It worked because I have strong control over my energy, and because, in that moment, your heart resonated with mine. But it’s not something I’d recommend casually. Normally, the right way is to pass only the tiniest spark. From there, the other person trains, practices, and slowly learns to master their own current.”

Axel grew still, her words sinking in. For the first time, the frustration ebbed. He closed his eyes again, this time determined to listen to his own rhythm, to let his heart set the pace for the energy flowing through him.

For the first time, he didn’t feel chaos. He felt rhythm.

Far away, several villages distant, that rhythm was on the brink of being disrupted.

A dusty road led to a small settlement, its wooden houses lined neatly along wide streets. The town thrived quietly, sustained by trade and livestock, its people accustomed to simple days and steady routines. Yet on that morning, tranquility shattered.

A harsh metallic siren tore through the air, its wail sending a shiver down every spine. Families rushed indoors, doors slammed shut, and silence was replaced by the pounding march of boots—boots that struck the ground like hammers against stone.

From the main road, a column of soldiers advanced. Their black armor gleamed under the sun, each movement precise, disciplined, unyielding. At the front, a banner snapped in the wind, emblazoned with the insignia of Alexis IV.

A voice, magnified by unnatural means, rolled over the houses like thunder:
—“Attention! This land now belongs to our leader, Alexis IV. Surrender, and no harm will come to you.”

Inside one house, a boy no older than eight clutched his mother, trembling. The toy in his hands slipped, clattering to the ground before rolling out the door into the street. Before anyone could stop him, instinct drove the boy to chase after it. He stumbled straight into the legs of a soldier.

The man looked down with chilling detachment, raising his weapon.

—“Wait!” cried the father, bursting outside. “He’s just a child! Please!”

The soldier’s finger hovered near the trigger, but another voice cut through sharply.
—“Enough. We didn’t come to slaughter children.”

Another man stepped forward, authority radiating from his stance. His gaze swept the streets.
—“We came to conquer. This town will serve as a base. There’s no need for further demonstration of force—they already know what happened to their former leader.”

Murmurs spread among the villagers hiding behind windows. One dared to whisper:
—“Why this town?”

The commander’s gaze locked on the horizon.
—“Because it’s close to the enemy’s headquarters, and it secures us provisions. Conquering this place is only the first step. Our aim is to sweep away every trace of resistance and claim these lands.”

The echo of his words lingered, as heavy as the shadow now stretching across the region.

The scene shifted with the ease of a blink.

A towering hall appeared, its air colder, its atmosphere thick with unease. At its heart stood a throne carved of dark wood, its design so intricate it seemed to swallow light. Upon it lounged a figure, cloaked in shadow, his posture both relaxed and commanding.

Before him hovered a screen of energy, divided into panels. Each one displayed the advancing columns, the banners, the fleeing villagers. The glow danced across the wine glass he lazily held, making the red liquid shimmer like blood under the dim light.

—“The visualization of souls was a magnificent invention,” the figure murmured, voice low and melodic, as though conversing with the echo of his own words. “To see the flow of energy within each being… it grants us sight beyond sight.”

A servant entered silently, bowing until his forehead nearly touched the floor.
—“My lord, shall we proceed with the preparations?”

The shadow inclined his head slightly.
—“Yes. We have learned the other Axel has appeared, as you already know.” His fingers traced the rim of his glass. “Curious, isn’t it? He is the same person, and yet… his energy feels duplicated. Not identical, no—more like the same signature split in two, resonating in parallel. Hard to explain, even to myself.”

The servant swallowed, his voice hesitant.
—“Then we advance across the villages as planned. He will reveal himself sooner or later.”

The figure rose from the throne slowly, deliberately. His shadow stretched long beneath the vaulted ceiling.
—“I’m heading to the laboratory.”

The servant lifted his eyes, startled.
—“Do I dare question your—”

—“Are you questioning me?” the leader cut in, sharp.

—“No, my lord!” the servant stammered. Relief flooded him when the shadowed figure chuckled faintly.

—“I jest. But truly, I have experiments to conduct. My energy requires… testing.”

The laboratory was unlike any ordinary chamber. It was half-armory, half-research sanctum. Racks of weapons lined the walls beside shelves stacked with glass vials glowing in unnatural hues. Strange devices hummed softly, and fragments of armor glittered beneath protective cases.

At the center, on a circular platform, floated two orbs of pure energy. One burned brightly, resonant and strong, reminiscent of Axel’s essence. The other was fainter, a mirror image, but unmistakably aligned.

The leader approached with deliberate steps, gloved hands extending.
—“Behold,” he whispered. “Two souls of the same source, existing in parallel. Left: the one I detected earlier. Right: the one that just surfaced. Let us see what happens when they meet.”

He lifted both orbs, holding them inches apart. For a breath, nothing changed. Then, waves rippled across their surfaces. A vibration emerged, first dissonant, then strangely harmonious. The orbs pulsed in tandem, their resonance climbing higher, until with a flash they merged into a single radiant sphere.

The glow intensified, more powerful than either alone, radiating an energy that filled the chamber with palpable tension.

—“Do you see it?” the leader murmured, eyes narrowing with fascination. “Together, they don’t cancel each other out—they amplify. A dual current. The implications… are limitless.”

Back in the training hall, Axel’s hands clenched the sphere tightly. His eyes remained closed, his breath even. The warmth was no longer foreign; it was a rhythm, a heartbeat. His heartbeat.

Lucy watched attentively, her playful demeanor softened into patience. Lexus leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, his face carved into an expression between sternness and pride.

—“Do you feel it?” Lucy asked quietly.

Axel nodded, still focused. The sphere’s heat pulsed in sync with his chest, not like blood rushing but like a melody matching its tempo to his own. And then—suddenly—the sphere ignited. A flame of pale blue leapt from its surface, cool yet bright, dancing in quiet triumph.

—“You did it!” Lucy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with pride.

—“Yes… I did,” Axel whispered, almost to himself. “It happened so quickly…”

Lucy nudged his shoulder with a grin.
—“You said it yourself. It was your heartbeat waiting to be heard. I only gave it the first note. That’s Awakening: giving someone that nudge so their energy begins to resonate. But from here on… it’s you.”

Axel smiled faintly, weariness and relief mingling. Lexus pushed away from the wall, his expression stern but his tone betraying approval.

—“Now you must learn to do the same with objects. Basics first.”

Axel groaned.
—“I thought you were going to teach me to fight… something less boring.”

Lucy laughed.
—“First the basics.”

—“Yeah, yeah. Like Slam Dunk,” Axel quipped with a crooked grin. “Sakuragi had to master the fundamentals before dunking.”

The others exchanged puzzled looks, but Lexus shrugged.
—“Whatever works for you.”

From the side, Luz approached, adjusting the twin katanas at her waist, smirking.
—“All right, next task. Watch closely.”

She placed an object on the table: a metallic torch, old-fashioned yet modified. At its top was a wick wrapped in special cloth; built into its base was a receiver, designed to accept not just fire but pure energy.

—“Your job,” Lexus said firmly, “is to light it. Not with fire. Convince it to ignite with your energy.”

Axel studied the torch, nervous and excited. This wasn’t about brute force. It was about persuading matter itself to sing his song.

—“And if it explodes?” he asked, only half joking.

Lucy shook her head.
—“It won’t. If you do it properly, the energy will sync. Focus on your heartbeat, not the result.”

Axel closed his eyes, inhaling. The sphere still glowed faintly in his hand, a reminder of resonance achieved. Slowly, he extended that rhythm outward, letting it flow through his chest, down his arms, into his fingertips.

The torch quivered subtly, like metal hearing a distant melody. The wick flickered blue, then suddenly caught—a flame, clear and steady, burning with the same pale light as the sphere.

For a moment, silence filled the hall. Then Lexus clapped once, curt but approving. Luz laughed aloud. Lucy’s eyes shone warmly.

—“Good,” Lexus said. “That’s what I wanted to see.”

Axel held the torch carefully, the flame steady. It wasn’t just fire—it was proof. Proof that what once felt like chaos now held rhythm, what once was confusion now carried harmony.

Far away, in the dark throne room, the shadowed leader observed his merged orb. His game pieces moved on the board—villages, troops, routes of conquest.

But here, in the training hall, Axel had lit a torch. Small though it seemed, it marked the true beginning of something greater.

And sometimes, the smallest flame was enough to shift the balance of the entire world.