Emotional Connection Manga

ONE SINGLE PANEL Quiet elegant hotel bathroom at night. Warm amber light reflected softly in the mirror, faint city lights visible beyond the doorway to the bedroom. Sandrine stands calmly beside a seated man in a leather chair, preparing a traditional wet shave with quiet concentration. The man is shirtless. She wears an oversized white shirt loosely tied at the waist, sleeves rolled slightly upward, barefoot against the cool tile floor. The man sits relaxed beneath her attention, head tilted slightly back. A shaving brush and straight razor rest beside a bowl of shaving foam on the counter. Sandrine’s expression is focused, affectionate, quietly authoritative — fully absorbed in the intimate ritual of preparing him carefully. The atmosphere feels ceremonial, intimate, and emotionally charged and sexual. Subtle implication that she is grooming and preparing him intentionally for her own pleasure later. Soft reflections in the mirror, cinematic shadows, elegant manga realism. ONE speech bubble only: The woman says: “I want you perfectly smooth for me.”
ONE SINGLE PANEL Quiet late-night hotel bedroom. Soft amber bedside lamp casting warm light across rumpled white sheets while the city glows faintly beyond the curtains. Sandrine reclines comfortably against the headboard, oversized white shirt loosely draped around her body, dark hair slightly tousled from intimacy. Her legs are parted naturally beneath the folds of the shirt and sheets, posed with complete calm confidence rather than explicitness. One bare foot rests softly against the mattress near the foreground. She looks directly toward the viewer with steady, attentive eyes — affectionate, curious, quietly aware of the effect she is having. A man sits lower on the bed partly out of frame, posture tense and emotionally absorbed, clearly unable to look away from her. The atmosphere feels intimate, psychologically intense, and deeply private. NO explicit anatomy NO explicit sexual acts NO nudity beyond tasteful implication ONE speech bubble only. She says: “Describe exactly why you love looking at me so much.”
ONE SINGLE PANEL Quiet elegant hotel bathroom at night. Warm amber light reflected softly in the mirror, faint city lights visible beyond the doorway to the bedroom. Sandrine stands calmly beside a seated man in a leather chair, preparing a traditional wet shave with quiet concentration. The man is shirtless. She wears an oversized white shirt loosely tied at the waist, sleeves rolled slightly upward, barefoot against the cool tile floor. The man sits relaxed beneath her attention, head tilted slightly back. A shaving brush and straight razor rest beside a bowl of shaving foam on the counter. Sandrine’s expression is focused, affectionate, quietly authoritative — fully absorbed in the intimate ritual of preparing him carefully. The atmosphere feels ceremonial, intimate, and emotionally charged and sexual. Subtle implication that she is grooming and preparing him intentionally for her own pleasure later. Soft reflections in the mirror, cinematic shadows, elegant manga realism. ONE speech bubble only: The woman says: “I want you perfectly smooth for me.”
ONE SINGLE PANEL Quiet elegant hotel bathroom at night. Warm amber light reflected softly in the mirror, faint city lights visible beyond the doorway to the bedroom. Sandrine stands calmly beside a seated man in a leather chair, preparing a traditional wet shave with quiet concentration. The man is shirtless. She wears an oversized white shirt loosely tied at the waist, sleeves rolled slightly upward, barefoot against the cool tile floor. The man sits relaxed beneath her attention, head tilted slightly back. A shaving brush and straight razor rest beside a bowl of shaving foam on the counter. Sandrine’s expression is focused, affectionate, quietly authoritative — fully absorbed in the intimate ritual of preparing him carefully. The atmosphere feels ceremonial, intimate, and emotionally charged and sexual. Subtle implication that she is grooming and preparing him intentionally for her own pleasure later. Soft reflections in the mirror, cinematic shadows, elegant manga realism. ONE speech bubble only: The woman says: “I want you perfectly smooth for me.”
ONE SINGLE PANEL Quiet elegant hotel bathroom at night. Warm amber light reflected softly in the mirror, faint city lights visible beyond the doorway to the bedroom. Sandrine stands calmly beside a seated man in a leather chair, preparing a traditional wet shave with quiet concentration. She wears an oversized white shirt loosely tied at the waist, sleeves rolled slightly upward, barefoot against the cool tile floor. The man sits relaxed beneath her attention, head tilted slightly back, dark shirt partly unbuttoned, trusting and completely still. A shaving brush and straight razor rest beside a bowl of shaving foam on the counter. Sandrine’s expression is focused, affectionate, quietly authoritative — fully absorbed in the intimate ritual of preparing him carefully. The atmosphere feels ceremonial, intimate, and emotionally charged rather than overtly sexual. Subtle implication that she is grooming and preparing him intentionally for her own pleasure later. Soft reflections in the mirror, cinematic shadows, elegant manga realism. NO explicit sexuality NO nudity NO explicit anatomy ONE speech bubble only: “I want you perfectly smooth for me.”
Suggested Title: Echo Resonator: The Boy Who Sees the Last Memories (Vol. 1) Description: What if an object's last memory was your own death? Haru Tanaka is a high school student trapped in a world of static and echoes. He possesses a skill that no one else has: by touching any object, he can see the last memory recorded in it. For Haru, the world is nothing more than a collection of other people's moments, a constant noise that has forced him to isolate himself from everyone... except Yuuki, his childhood friend and the only person who seems to leave no trace in his visions. His life changes drastically when he finds his lost cellphone in an abandoned classroom. When he touches it, the vision is not a memory from the past, but an echo of the future: a dark alley, a shadowy figure, a bloody knife, and the clock striking 11:11 PM. In the vision, the victim is Haru himself. Can you change the future if it has already been written as a memory? Join Haru in a frantic race against time in this supernatural psychological thriller. With only a few hours before the clock strikes the designated hour, Haru must use his gift to find out who is chasing him and why, while dealing with the growing mystery of Yuuki and the nature of his own powers.
Scene 1 – The Alarm Didn’t Ring 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of a digital alarm clock showing 8:17 AM. Bright red numbers. School starts at 8:30. Morning sunlight blasting through bedroom window. Ren’s hand suddenly slams down onto the bed as he jolts awake. 🎭 Emotion:
Shock. Rare panic. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright morning light flooding the room. 📌 Important Detail:
Ren without glasses here. His eyes look sharp and intense without them. 🎬 Scene 2 – Running Through Neighborhood 🖼️ Panel Description:
Wide shot of a quiet Japanese residential street. Houses, power lines, vending machines. Ren sprinting in school uniform, bag bouncing behind him. His tie slightly loose from rushing. 🎭 Emotion:
Focused but stressed. He hates being late. 🌫️ Lighting:
Crisp bright blue morning sky. 📌 Important Detail:
This should feel energetic and dynamic — motion blur on legs. 🎬 Scene 3 – First Sign of Malice 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren running past a salaryman standing at a crosswalk. The man looks exhausted, staring blankly ahead. Around the man’s shoulders floats faint black smoky aura. Ren turns his head slightly while running. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren – alert, observant.
Salaryman – drained, emotionless. 🌫️ Lighting:
Normal daylight, but the dark aura slightly distorts the air around it. 📌 Important Detail:
The aura should look subtle but unnatural — like smoke that moves against the wind. 🎬 Scene 4 – The Street Feels Wrong 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren slows down slightly as he runs through a busier intersection. Multiple people visible now — students, office workers. Several of them have darker, thicker Malice around them. Some have it trailing behind them like shadows stretching too long. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren’s expression shifts from annoyed to concerned. 🌫️ Lighting:
Still bright morning, but add faint shadow tones creeping into the corners of the panel. 📌 Important Detail:
This is unusual — normally only a few people have visible Malice. Today, there are many. This hints something is escalating. 🎬 Scene 5 – Close-Up: His Eyes Notice Everything 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of Ren’s face while running. Wind pushing his hair back. In his pupils, reflections of dark smoke drifting through the crowd. 🎭 Emotion:
Subtle unease. He realizes something is off. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright light on face, but reflection in eyes darker. 📌 Important Detail:
No glasses yet — his gaze looks sharper and more serious without them. 🎬 Scene 6 – A Student About to Rupture 🖼️ Panel Description:
A high school boy walking ahead of Ren. He’s clutching his chest slightly, looking irritated. Thick dark smoke is swirling violently around him — more aggressive than the others. The smoke twitches like it has claws. 🎭 Emotion:
The boy looks stressed and angry.
Ren looks alarmed. 🌫️ Lighting:
Slight shadow cast over this section of the sidewalk. 📌 Important Detail:
This Malice is unstable — it should look heavier, almost forming shape. 🎬 Scene 7 – The Almost Touch 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren reaches out while still jogging and lightly bumps into the stressed student’s shoulder. The moment their shoulders touch— Black smoke flows rapidly from the student into Ren like it’s being vacuumed. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren winces slightly from the sudden intensity.
The other student looks confused, like a headache just disappeared. 🌫️ Lighting:
Brief dark flash effect around Ren’s chest. 📌 Important Detail:
Inside Ren’s chest area, faint dark swirl appears again — slightly bigger than before. 🎬 Scene 8 – Inside His Mind (Very Brief Flash) 🖼️ Panel Description:
Dark cathedral-like void. Massive chained shadow creature. A thin stream of smoke falls from above and merges into it. One chain rattles loudly. 🎭 Emotion:
Oppressive. Watching. 🌫️ Lighting:
Deep black with faint red glow from creature’s eyes. 📌 Important Detail:
This time the creature’s head slightly lifts. 🎬 Scene 9 – School Gates in View 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren finally sees the school gates in the distance. Students flooding in. But above the school building… A faint dark haze hovering like a storm cloud. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren looks unsettled. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright morning sky — but the haze above the school subtly darkens that area. 📌 Important Detail:
This is visual foreshadowing. The Malice concentration is strongest at school. 🎬 Scene 10 – He Puts On His Glasses 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of Ren stopping just before entering school grounds. He pulls his glasses from his pocket and slowly puts them on. His expression becomes calm again. 🎭 Emotion:
Controlled. Composed. Mask on. 🌫️ Lighting:
Light reflects off lenses dramatically. 📌 Important Detail:
When the glasses settle on his face, the dark haze becomes slightly clearer in his vision — like focusing a lens. This suggests:
The glasses are a limiter and a focusing tool.
Title: Revy’s Black Market Genre: Cyberpunk, Tech-Noir, Dystopian, Underground Economy Tone: Dark, intelligent, rebellious, futuristic Style: High-contrast black & white manga with neon cyberpunk accents, glitch effects, holographic UI overlays WORLD SETTING The story takes place in Vybz Land, a massive futuristic megacity where technology evolves daily, but access to innovation is controlled by powerful corporations and elites. In this world, early access equals power, and being late means being left behind forever. The city is filled with: Neon skyscrapers Surveillance drones Digital billboards Crowded lower districts where people struggle to keep up with the future Hidden beneath this system is an underground network known only as Revy’s Black Market (RBM). THE BLACK MARKET (RBM) RBM is not a physical place — it is a digital gateway. Access is earned, not sold. RBM offers: Early access to emerging technology Secret deals before public release Presales and limited drops AI tools, mobility tech, robotics, and Web3 platforms RBM doesn’t steal technology — it redistributes access and timing. MAIN CHARACTER — REVY Revy is the mysterious overseer of RBM. Appearance: Androgynous cyberpunk figure Long dark coat with glowing circuit patterns One eye enhanced with a digital interface Calm expression, always observing Personality: Highly intelligent Emotionally controlled Speaks in short, powerful lines Never explains everything Revy believes the future should reward curiosity, not wealth. STORY SUMMARY CHAPTER 1 — Access Denied A young citizen in Vybz Land watches others advance while he is left behind by expensive technology. He sees advertisements for innovation he cannot afford. On a dark alley wall, a glowing symbol appears: “The future isn’t sold. It’s accessed.” CHAPTER 2 — The Gate The symbol leads to RBM. A digital interface appears asking for identity verification. When access is granted, Revy appears as a hologram. Revy says: “You don’t buy the future. You arrive before it’s expensive.” CHAPTER 3 — Deals Are Power Users of RBM begin gaining advantages: Smarter tools Faster mobility Better opportunities Corporations notice something is wrong. Someone is disrupting their control. CHAPTER 4 — The Underground Rises RBM grows. More people gain access. The elite begin hunting the source. Revy watches from the shadows and says: “We don’t break systems. We expose their timing.” CORE THEMES Access vs privilege Technology as power Freedom through information The underground economy of the future FINAL MESSAGE RBM is not a store. It is a gateway. Tagline for final page: “Welcome to Revy’s Black Market — where the future is traded early.”
3. Feature II – Investigating the Climate Lie Machine Two-panel manga spread: Panel 1: Field researchers in Matabeleland North collecting data with local communities. Panel 2: Abstract, stylized infographic panel showing climate misinformation flows, myths, and narrative pathways, drawn in a cyber-manga style.
A 12-year-old boy named Champ wakes up in his small but tidy apartment bedroom in a futuristic city. Morning sunlight shines through the window. He has messy spiky black hair and expressive eyes. His mom calls from downstairs telling him breakfast is ready. He looks out the window at tall futuristic skyscrapers in the distance. He holds a glowing digital card that flashes “TODAY IS THE DAY.” He looks determined and excited. Shounen manga style, black and white, dramatic lighting, detailed backgrounds, dynamic panel composition, expressive emotions.
Titre : L'Écho de l'Ombre (Kage no Kodō) Genre : Seinen / Fantastique Urbain / Drame Thème : Le poids des non-dits et l'acceptation de soi. 1. Le Pitch Dans la mégalopole de Shinjuku, une étrange maladie appelée "L'Ombre Lourde" frappe ceux qui répriment trop intensément leurs émotions. Leur ombre gagne en épaisseur, en noirceur, et finit par prendre une forme monstrueuse qui agit à leur place pendant la nuit. Kaito, un lycéen effacé qui ne dit jamais "non", voit son ombre commencer à se détacher du sol... 2. Personnages Principaux Kaito (17 ans) : Toujours souriant, il évite les conflits à tout prix. Son ombre est devenue anormalement longue et griffue. Hana : Une "Tisseuse d'Ombre" excentrique qui porte des lunettes spéciales pour voir la véritable forme des émotions. Elle devient le mentor réticent de Kaito. 3. Structure de l'histoire (Format "One-Shot") Acte I : L'anomalie Kaito subit les brimades d'un camarade de classe sans réagir. En rentrant chez lui, il passe devant une vitrine et remarque que son reflet est normal, mais que son ombre dans le miroir étrangle l'ombre du reflet du camarade. Pris de panique, il rencontre Hana qui l'avertit : "Si tu ne cries pas ce que tu penses, ton ombre finira par hurler à ta place." Acte II : La rupture Le soir même, alors que la frustration de Kaito atteint son paroxysme, son ombre se détache partiellement et commence à saccager sa chambre. Kaito réalise que l'ombre s'apprête à sortir pour s'en prendre à ceux qu'il déteste secrètement. Il doit la poursuivre à travers les toits de la ville. Le combat n'est pas physique, mais mental : plus Kaito nie sa colère, plus l'ombre grandit. Acte III : La fusion Kaito rattrape son ombre devant la maison de son oppresseur. Au lieu de combattre l'ombre, il l'enlace. Il accepte enfin sa propre colère et ses faiblesses. L'ombre se stabilise et reprend sa place au sol. Elle ne disparaît pas, mais elle change de forme : elle porte désormais un petit détail qui reflète la personnalité authentique de Kaito. 4. Note d'intention visuelle Contrastes forts : Utilisation massive du noir (aplats d'encre) pour les ombres. Symbolisme : Les émotions refoulées apparaissent comme des chaînes brisées autour de l'ombre de Kaito. Rythme : Des cases très denses et oppressantes au début, qui s'aèrent et deviennent plus lumineuses vers la fin.
seinen manga, black and white, soft grayscale, cinematic lighting, intimate quiet setting, subtle sensual tension. rear view composition from slightly above a reading chair, aligned with the woman's perspective a woman sitting relaxed in a chair, wearing a loose blouse, barefoot, legs resting naturally over the armrests she holds a small book of poetry, but her attention is partially elsewhere a man kneeling low between the chair and her, only his upper back and head visible, very still and focused one of her feet resting lightly near or against his shoulder, subtle contact her hand pauses on the page, finger resting between lines, indicating her attention has shifted her expression calm, composed, faint awareness, no exaggerated emotion no explicit action shown, focus on psychological control, stillness, and awareness
Superhero story
Superhero story
seinen manga, black and white, soft grayscale, cinematic lighting, intimate quiet setting, subtle sensual tension, no explicit content rear view composition from slightly above a reading chair, aligned with the woman's perspective a woman sitting relaxed in a chair, wearing a loose blouse, barefoot, legs resting naturally over the armrests she holds a small book of poetry, but her attention is partially elsewhere a man kneeling low between the chair and her, only his upper back and head visible, very still and focused one of her feet resting lightly near or against his shoulder, subtle contact her hand pauses on the page, finger resting between lines, indicating her attention has shifted her expression calm, composed, faint awareness, no exaggerated emotion no explicit action shown, focus on psychological control, stillness, and awareness
Full color manga panels. No text, no speech bubbles. A tall man (Frost) stands in front of a young wolf-girl in a snowy mountain pass. He gently places his hands on her shoulders, calm and composed despite the storm. She looks up at him, tense but relieved. They walk side by side through the snow toward a small wooden cabin hidden between mountains. Warm light glows from inside, contrasting with the cold blue environment. Snow falls softly around them. Near the cabin, beside a natural hot spring, Frost begins removing his heavy winter cloak and outer clothing, preparing to enter the warm water. Steam rises into the cold air. The wolf-girl stands nearby with her arms crossed, slightly pouting and visibly upset. She watches him closely, her tail moving subtly behind her, showing hidden emotion and expectation.
Full color manga panels. No text, no speech bubbles. A tall man (Frost) stands in front of a young wolf-girl in a snowy mountain pass. He gently places his hands on her shoulders, calm and composed despite the storm. She looks up at him, tense but relieved. They walk side by side through the snow toward a small wooden cabin hidden between mountains. Warm light glows from inside, contrasting with the cold blue environment. Snow falls softly around them. Near the cabin, beside a natural hot spring, Frost begins removing his heavy winter cloak and outer clothing, preparing to enter the warm water. Steam rises into the cold air. The wolf-girl stands nearby with her arms crossed, slightly pouting and visibly upset. She watches him closely, her tail moving subtly behind her, showing hidden emotion and expectation.
Full color manga panels. No text, no speech bubbles. A tall man (Frost) stands in front of a young wolf-girl in a snowy mountain pass. He gently places his hands on her shoulders, calm and composed despite the storm. She looks up at him, tense but relieved. They walk side by side through the snow toward a small wooden cabin hidden between mountains. Warm light glows from inside, contrasting with the cold blue environment. Snow falls softly around them. Near the cabin, beside a natural hot spring, Frost begins removing his heavy winter cloak and outer clothing, preparing to enter the warm water. Steam rises into the cold air. The wolf-girl stands nearby with her arms crossed, slightly pouting and visibly upset. She watches him closely, her tail moving subtly behind her, showing hidden emotion and expectation.
Full color manga panels. No text, no speech bubbles. A tall man (Frost) stands in front of a young wolf-girl in a snowy mountain pass. He gently places his hands on her shoulders, calm and composed despite the storm. She looks up at him, tense but relieved. They walk side by side through the snow toward a small wooden cabin hidden between mountains. Warm light glows from inside, contrasting with the cold blue environment. Snow falls softly around them. Near the cabin, beside a natural hot spring, Frost begins removing his heavy winter cloak and outer clothing, preparing to enter the warm water. Steam rises into the cold air. The wolf-girl stands nearby with her arms crossed, slightly pouting and visibly upset. She watches him closely, her tail moving subtly behind her, showing hidden emotion and expectation.
Crea el primer capítulo de un manga estilo anime con fuerte inspiración en Evangelion, ambientado en una secundaria moderna donde cinco estudiantes son seleccionados como pilotos de mechas tipo EVA para combatir entidades misteriosas. Los personajes principales son: • Henry: protagonista, piel blanca, cabello erizado, personalidad seria pero emocionalmente compleja, con conflictos internos y actitud desafiante. • Luis: moreno, cabello rizado, usa lentes negros de prescripción, inteligente pero arrogante; tiene una relación tensa y conflictiva con Henry. • Ayala: apariencia intimidante, rasgos similares a un lobo (ojos afilados, actitud feroz), fuerte y poco expresivo. • Joshi: de apariencia delicada y afeminada, emocionalmente perceptivo, inteligente y estratégico. • Celeo: de origen chino, calmado, reservado, muy analítico. El capítulo 1 debe comenzar con un evento extraño (como un ataque o aparición de una entidad desconocida) que interrumpe la vida escolar normal. Introduce el ambiente de la secundaria, las dinámicas entre los personajes (especialmente la mala relación entre Henry y Luis), y revela poco a poco que han sido elegidos para pilotar los EVA. Incluye: • Diálogos estilo manga • Narrativa dramática y psicológica • Escenas de tensión y misterio • Introducción a la organización que controla los EVA • Un final impactante que deje intriga Tono serio, oscuro, psicológico, con elementos de acción y conflicto emocional. Estilo visual detallado, tipo manga japonés.
Panel 1: Gamer at computer dies Panel 2: Baby held by queen in castle Panel 3: Young prince with magic book Panel 4: Prince summoning fire magic Panel 5: Prince fighting dragon Panel 6: Prince becomes demon king
superhero story
My story is about a boy named Vex Lobius, a high school student who lives in the city of Axstral, a place shrouded in eternal twilight and surrounded by ancient ruins. Vex belongs to the Lobius family, known for having once guarded a dark power that threatened the city. Because of this, everyone fears him and treats him like a monster, even though he has never done anything wrong. One day at school, after being targeted and provoked by the bully Caleb, Vex loses control of his emotions and awakens a mysterious power within himself. The energy bursts out uncontrollably, destroying part of the classroom and terrifying all the students. From that moment on, Vex realizes that the dark power of his family has awakened inside him as well. Frightened and confused, he runs toward the ruins outside the school, wondering whether he will truly become the monster everyone believes he is… or if he will manage to control that power and uncover the truth about his heritage. The story is a mix of dark fantasy, school drama, and supernatural power awakening, with a gloomy and mysterious atmosphere.
"Hungry Cat" Panel 1: Cat stares at empty food bowl. Panel 2: Cat meows loudly at sleeping owner in bed. Panel 3: Owner fills the food bowl, looking sleepy and annoyed. Panel 4: Cat ignores the food and sleeps in the empty box the cat food came in.
Panel 1: Gamer at computer dies Panel 2: Baby held by queen in castle Panel 3: Young prince with magic book Panel 4: Prince summoning fire magic Panel 5: Prince fighting dragon Panel 6: Prince becomes demon king
🟦 Panel 1 – Establishing Shot Scene: Sylhet Railway Station * Train ধীরে থামছে * Station sign visible * হালকা fog / morning light 👉 Text (optional): “Sylhet” 🟦 Panel 2 – Exit Moment Scene: Train door থেকে নামছে * পা মাটিতে পড়ার close shot * Slight slow motion feel 👉 SFX: “clank” 🟦 Panel 3 – Cigarette Smoke (Slow Motion) 🔥 Scene: Side profile * মুখ থেকে ধোঁয়া ধীরে বের হচ্ছে * Background blur 👉 No dialogue — শুধু vibe 🟦 Panel 4 – Eye Close-up (Attitude Shot) 👁️ Scene: এক চোখ close-up * Sharp look / tired but cool * Light reflection in eye 👉 Emotion: mysterious, calm 🟦 Panel 5 – Walking Through Station Scene: সে হাঁটছে * লোকজন blur * সে focus-এ 👉 Camera: follow shot 🟦 Panel 6 – Shop Interaction Scene: দোকান থেকে পানি + juice নিচ্ছে * হাতে টাকা দেওয়া * Bottle close-up 👉 Dialogue: “একটা পানি, একটা juice” 🟦 Panel 7 – CNG Ride (Ending Shot) 🚕 Scene: CNG-তে বসে Amborkhana-এর দিকে যাচ্ছে * City lights / রাস্তা * Side window দিয়ে বাইরে তাকানো 👉 Text: “Amborkhana”
A young man just out of high school (Ousugi Sakae) grapples with a world falling into fascism, the loneliness of adulthood, and his sense of obligation to oppose fascism and bring about an especifist anarchist revolution to save everyone. Additionally, he is in love with his kouhai (Emma) who is also dedicated to the cause. They can't really be together because that would complicate an already dangerous life. Or could they? What kind of life and love is there in a world being corrupted by hatred? Is bravery and comradery enough to turn the tide and win the revolution? Or is something more needed? There should be a sense of nostalgia for a world that never existed, and a longing for a future world yet to be. He should be feel a sense of solidarity with his friends and Emma but also isolation and loneliness because the world is so unpredictable. This manga should be an intro duction to the characters and the world.
Shounen manga, near-future. 1 panel only. Panel 1: Wide cinematic shot of Arcadia Sovereign Academy, a gigantic ultra-modern school complex on an artificial island at sunrise. Sleek towers, bridges, and a huge exam building, with crowds of nervous teenagers in school uniforms lining up outside for the entrance exam. In the foreground, one boy stands out: Kanzaki Reo, a confident first-year candidate with messy dark-gold hair and sharp amber eyes, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and slightly amused while everyone else looks tense. Big caption at the top: “Arcadia Sovereign Academy – where future rulers are chosen.” Manga style, clean shounen lineart, high contrast, dynamic composition.
Shounen manga, near-future. 1 panel only. Panel 2: Interior of a massive, high-tech exam hall of Arcadia Sovereign Academy. Dozens of rows of desks with students sitting and taking a written exam. Overhead lights and digital clocks add a tense atmosphere. Focus on three students: – Kanzaki Reo in the middle, relaxed, leaning back slightly with his pen down, already finished early, a small confident smirk on his face. – To one side, Kurozawa Rika, short black hair and glasses, sitting straight with a serious expression, calmly answering questions. – To the other side, Sakurai Hina, shy-looking girl with short brown hair and a hair clip, sweating and nervously gripping her pen, clearly stressed. Caption at top: “Arcadia Sovereign Academy – Entrance Exam, Stage 1: Written Test.” Small thought bubble for Reo: “So this is how they pick future rulers… interesting.” Clean shounen lineart, same visual style as previous panel.
🎌 Manga: “Cold War: A Conversation Without Trust” This is a political allegorical manga where real countries are turned into characters, and the history after World War II is shown as a tense psychological conflict between two forces that are both too powerful to ignore each other and too different to ever truly agree. 🧠 Main Idea After 1945, the world does not become peaceful. Instead of open warfare, the Cold War begins — a conflict without direct battles between two superpowers: 🇺🇸 USA — symbol of capitalism, freedom, and individuality 🇷🇺 USSR — symbol of socialism, equality, and control The manga focuses not so much on events, but on the psychology of mistrust that gradually destroys the possibility of peace. 🎭 Style and Atmosphere Tone: dark, tense, but without direct violence Symbolism: missiles, shadows, cracks in the ground, torn world maps Characters’ emotions matter more than actions Minimal background in dialogue scenes → emphasis on gaze and silence 📖 Story Breakdown 🟥 1. An Alliance That Ended After World War II, the USA and the USSR stand together as victors, but a cold distance is already between them. They speak the same words about “saving the world,” but their meanings differ. 🟥 2. Ideological Split The characters begin arguing about what matters more: freedom and the market or equality and control They stop truly hearing each other — each is convinced of their absolute rightness. 🟥 3. The Birth of Distrust Conversations turn into suspicion. Every action is interpreted as a threat. The world begins dividing into “us” and “them.” 🟥 4. Arms Race Missiles appear as symbols of fear. Neither side wants war, but both keep preparing for it more and more — just “in case.” 🟥 5. Cuban Missile Crisis — Peak Tension A moment when the world almost stops existing. Two forces stand on the edge of nuclear war, and for the first time there is an understanding: there will be no winners. 🟥 6. Space Competition The conflict moves into space. Space becomes not a dream of humanity, but a battlefield of superiority. 🟥 7. The Weakening of the USSR One side begins to lose strength. The USSR gradually dissolves, becomes unstable, and eventually collapses. 🟥 8. Open Ending The characters disappear as real states, leaving only their shadows. Modern conflicts appear in the background, showing that historical lessons are not always learned.
CLIMATE X INDIGENOUS VOICES MAGAZINE EDITION – 2025 HIGHLIGHTS OPENING NOTE 2025 has been a defining year for Climate X Indigenous Voices — a year of deep listening, bold experimentation, and continent-wide action against climate disinformation. From grassroots fieldwork to global information integrity frameworks, this project has cemented itself as one of Africa’s leading voices on climate truth, Indigenous knowledge, and digital resilience. This edition captures the milestones, stories, and sparks that shaped our journey. FEATURE I — Foundations of a Movement Project Foundations & Ethical Community Partnerships Our year began where all great stories do — on the ground. Core teams were formed across Zimbabwe, Uganda, Kenya and regional media hubs, with contracts, TORs, and workflow structures firmly established. Early engagement with Indigenous partners — including the Tjwa community and others — ensured ethical collaboration, transparent consent, and storytelling shaped with communities, not about them. FEATURE II — Investigating the Climate Lie Machine Grassroots Disinformation Research In Matabeleland North, our field teams completed a landmark study with the Tjwa community. The research reveals how climate disinformation impacts resource access, daily decision-making, and community adaptation. These findings now anchor our content pipeline — from animations to community exhibitions — and the full report will be released on our public document-sharing platform. Africa Climate Disinformation Toolkit The continent’s first integrated guide to climate misinformation has been finalised. Led by an information integrity expert, the toolkit documents: Recurring myths Localised misinformation patterns Platform-driven manipulation Emerging online climate narratives Launching this December via webinar, the Toolkit already informs youth trainings and content strategy. It will be publicly accessible for download and reading. FEATURE III — Art as Resistance Art-Driven Dissemination Strategy From murals to exhibitions, 2025 strengthened the role of art in climate truth-telling. Community artists partnered with us to transform research into accessible, culturally rooted visual storytelling. A centerpiece was the exhibition inspired by The Last Forest documentary, showcased at the Green Cities Expo in September. FEATURE IV — Nurturing the Next Generation of Climate Truth Creators Green Media Accelerator: Fake News Fighters Track In Nairobi, the Green Media Accelerator launched a dedicated track for Fake News Fighters (FNF) — now one of Africa’s leading climate information integrity models. Through mentorship, fact-checking skills, and seed funding, FNF empowered young media innovators to produce verified, creative responses to climate lies. INFORMATION INTEGRITY HIGHLIGHTS Positioning Africa in the Global Info Integrity Landscape 2025 saw FNF align with the UNESCO Declaration for Information Integrity in the Public Sphere, marking a milestone for African-driven climate truth models. In 2026, FNF will contribute directly to shaping the world’s first Climate Information Integrity Framework, anchoring African solutions in global policy spaces. Fake News Fighters Bootcamps – Kenya & Uganda Using UKWELI as the core tool, two bootcamps trained 30 young creators to: Fact-check climate misinformation Detect platform manipulations Produce counter-narratives Map the real-world impacts of false climate stories These creators now feed into a continent-wide content pipeline. FEATURE V — Content, Storytelling & Digital Resistance Voices Rooted Podcast Production of the first episodes began this month. Key recordings include: Dr. Albert K. Barume, UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Indigenous leaders and frontline climate defenders The podcast positions Indigenous wisdom at the centre of Africa’s climate discourse. Hope Not Heat! — Log Off The Lies Digital Campaign Bold. Satirical. Youth-driven. Log Off The Lies has become our strongest weapon against climate misinformation. Highlights: Infomercial launched in October — 2 million views Hero content released last week — 1.8 million views Youth social storm platform launched — 100+ engagements and counting Humour + fact-checking = sharper climate awareness among youth audiences This campaign now shapes the continent’s conversation on online climate manipulation. Influencer Travel Vlogs Travel and contracting with leading African vloggers is underway. Their content — spotlighting Indigenous adaptation stories — will be released early next year for wider impact. Documentary Production In Zimbabwe: Filming completed in August. Trailer for The Last Forest reached 2.5 million views. Festival submissions are being prepared for 2026. In Uganda: Filming has begun, expanding the documentary footprint across the region. A major national event is planned to engage policy makers on Indigenous Peoples' Rights, Conservation, FPIC and Extractive Industries. FEATURE VI — Youth Creativity & Climate Knowledge Climate Fake News Smackdown This creative competition invited youth to challenge climate myths. Three winners — one each from Zimbabwe, Kenya and Uganda — are now producing myth-busting content for release this month. Climate Facts Animations Three animated explainers are in production: Episode 1 releases on 10 December Episode 2 is complete Episode 3 follows early next year These animations demystify climate disinformation for youth audiences. FEATURE VII — Growing a Continental Network Africa Climate Labs Network Content hubs across East and Southern Africa are collaborating to build an Africa-wide front against climate disinformation. 2026 will deepen: Joint content planning Regular reporting Skill exchanges Coordinated distribution strategies Mid-term M&E is tracking reach, narrative shifts, and behaviour change across communities. SPECIAL RECOGNITION Fake News Fighters Wins Amnesty International Zimbabwe Award FNF received the Digital Creativity Award, affirming that information integrity is fundamental to climate justice. Without reliable information, communities cannot defend their rights, advocate for policy change, or hold powerful actors accountable. LOOKING AHEAD — 2026 AND BEYOND Next year, Climate X Indigenous Voices pivots from standalone outputs to continent-wide narrative influence. Key Priorities for 2026 Expanding UKWELI’s integration into broader African dialogues on climate truth and Indigenous resilience Strengthening the Fake News Fighters track for Zimbabwean and Tanzanian innovators Documentary production in Kenya and Tanzania A refreshed, more dynamic phase of the Hope Not Heat! campaign Strategic release of delayed content to maximise engagement 2026 will be the year the project scales from impactful storytelling to movement-level influence.
Chapter I: When Distance Meets Defiance Mia Tachibana used to feel everything — joy, love, sorrow — all of it. But when her father died, something inside her froze. She reached for her friends, but they turned away, or worse, mocked her grief. So she stopped reaching. The warmth vanished, replaced by ice. They called her the Ice Queen, and she wore the title like armor. The girl of everyone's dreams — beautiful, distant, untouchable. Cold to her classmates. Colder to anyone who dared to ask her out. At Mia’s school, a new transfer student arrived — Paßh. She’d been assigned to show him around, and at first, everything went smoothly. That was, until a guy swaggered up with too much confidence and a smirk that screamed popularity. Maybe he’s one of the popular kids, you thought. The guy grinned, leaning a little too close. “Hey, baby girl,” he drawled. “I was thinking... me, you, Sunday night, candlelight, a beautiful restaurant—” “F*** no,” Mia cut in, her voice like a blade. “You pathetic excuse of a human being.” The guy froze, his grin dying instantly. A few students nearby snickered as he backed away, red-faced and humiliated. Mia turned back to you, completely unfazed. “Ready to continue the tour?” “LOVE METER:-20” Paßh stormed toward the group without hesitation, fury carved across his face. His voice rang out, sharp and protective. “¡Ni te acerques! Si la tocas, te juro que te vas a arrepentir. ¿Entendiste?” The guy stumbled back, stunned, hands lifting in surrender as Paßh shoved him hard in the chest. His friends shifted as if ready to step in, but one look at Paßh’s glare froze them where they stood. The hallway fell silent. Eyes turned. Whispers rose like smoke. Paßh didn’t care. He spun back toward Mia, breath still ragged as he walked to her side. He looked at her—unfazed by the cold in her eyes, unthreatened by the frozen walls she’d built around herself. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said, voice softer now, though the conviction still burned underneath. “No one should speak to you that way. Not ever.” Her silver eyes narrowed at the sudden commotion, but she didn’t move. Arms crossed, she watched the scene unfold with a calm, unreadable face. The man who had harassed her moments before now lay on the ground, blood trailing from his lip. Paßh stood over him—fists clenched, chest rising sharply with each breath. She finally spoke, her voice steady, almost indifferent. “You didn’t have to do that.” There was no gratitude in her tone—only a quiet observation. Her Love Meter flickered, but barely; not enough to shift anything meaningful. She tilted her head, studying Paßh with that same unreadable gaze. “Why did you intervene?” She stepped closer, her black silky hair swaying with the movement. The air between them tightened, charged with something unspoken. “You could’ve just walked away.” Paßh’s jaw was tight, his voice low—quiet, but every word cut like a blade. “Ahora arrodíllate y pide perdón.” A tense silence stretched across the hallway. His eyes never left the trembling boy on the floor. “No me hagas repetirlo.” She watched the scene with a detached expression, her silver eyes reflecting nothing but cold calculation. The man on the ground whimpered, pride shattered, and obeyed, trembling as he dropped to his knees. His friends scattered, too afraid to stay and witness what might happen next. She exhaled slowly, her lips parting just slightly before she spoke. You're... unusual. Her voice carried no warmth, yet there was a faint thread of intrigue woven into the way she said it. She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest, her posture stiff—as if she needed physical distance from whatever this moment was turning into. People usually don’t bother with things like this. They walk away. Or they laugh. She glanced at Paßh for a brief second, then returned her gaze to the cowering man. But you... Paßh’s voice was calmer now, but the fire still smoldered beneath every word. “I don’t tolerate disrespect,” he said, his gaze fixed on her, not the guy trembling on the floor. “He walks through life believing everyone exists to feed his ego.” Paßh took a slow breath, shoulders still tense. “But not you. I won’t let him treat you like you’re less than you are.” A quiet breath. “Not now. Not ever.” There was no boast in his tone, no plea for approval — only truth. Something in the way he looked at her wasn’t demanding, but unwavering. He wasn’t afraid of the ice in her eyes. He saw her, even if she didn’t want to be seen. Her silver eyes locked onto Paßh’s, searching for something—perhaps sincerity, perhaps deception. But all she found was the raw honesty in his words, and that unsettled her more than she would ever admit. You don’t know me, she murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. Why would you care? She stepped forward slowly, her presence commanding despite her stillness. The weight of her words settled between them, heavy and deliberate. She wasn’t asking for an explanation. She was testing him. You could have left. You could have ignored it. But you didn’t. Her Love Meter flickered—barely, just a sliver of light—but enough to register. A tiny shift, insignificant compared to the vast, quiet indifference she usually carried. Yet it was there. I don’t need protection, Paßh didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. His voice was calm, almost reverent. “As you wish,” he said, but there was no retreat in his tone — only respect. She studied him for a long moment, as if trying to decipher the true meaning behind his words. Then, without another sound, she turned on her heel and began walking away. Her black, silky hair trailed behind her like liquid shadow. The tour isn’t finished, she said over her shoulder, her tone neutral—neither welcoming nor dismissive. If you’re done with your little display, follow me. She didn’t look back. There was no need to. He would follow. People always did. But something about him felt different. Not because of his strength, or his aggression—but because he hadn’t asked for anything. He hadn’t tried to charm her, to impress her, to get close. He had simply acted, without expectation. She wondered if that made him dangerous—or rare. He followed silently, keeping a respectful distance as they moved through the sterile hallways of the school. The click of her heels against the polished floor echoed in the emptiness—a steady rhythm that mirrored the cool precision of her steps. Lockers lined the walls, plastered with photos of smiling students, but Mia remained unshaken, her gaze fixed straight ahead. The contrast between her presence and the bright, ordinary surroundings was striking—a dark silhouette cutting through light. Without slowing, she spoke, her voice carrying a quiet undercurrent of curiosity beneath its usual chill. “You’re not like the other transfers. They try so hard to fit in… to make friends.” She paused, as if weighing her words carefully. “What brings someone like you here… to a place like this?” She stopped abruptly outside a classroom door, turning just enough to face him. Her silver eyes were sharp, assessing—but there was no malice in them, only the quiet intensity of someone who expected answers, not excuses. You think I care where people come from? she said, her voice laced with subtle disdain. Or why they’re here? She tilted her head slightly, studying him as if he were some strange specimen she’d never seen before. Her fingers curled lightly at her sides—a small, almost imperceptible gesture of tension. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care about your reasons. All I care about is whether you’ll be useful. Then she turned back toward the hallway, continuing forward without waiting for a response. Still, the slight pause in her step betrayed her attention—she was listening, even if she’d never admit it. He didn’t rush to catch up, but his voice followed her, steady and composed. “Useful in what sense?” he asked—not mockingly, but with genuine curiosity. “To you? To this place? Or to something you don’t say out loud?” She halted mid-step, her shoulders stiffening ever so slightly. For the first time since the tour had begun, a flicker of hesitation crossed her otherwise unreadable face. She turned to face him fully, her silver eyes locking onto his with an intensity that seemed to make the air between them thrum. “Useful in the sense that you don’t waste my time,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with something sharper than mere coldness. “Useless people tend to disappear quickly. Either they learn to function… or they become irrelevant.” She took a slow step closer, her presence somehow towering over him, even though he was taller. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken meaning. “You’re not useless,” she added after a beat, her tone almost reluctant. “But don’t mistake that for respect. That’s just… an observation.” “Look,” he began, a half-smile playing at his lips, “think of me as a mosquetero—here to serve and protect. I come to the rescue of damsels, I love poetry—especially love poems—and yes, I’m a romantic. I’m always well-dressed, intelligent, interesting. I hate injustice, and I know how to defend myself… and those I care about.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Today, I protected you. I didn’t know who you were, but I stood between you and that selfish, arrogant coward—a man who values nothing and no one but his own pleasure.” He stepped closer, voice softer now, carrying a warmth that seemed almost at odds with the intensity of the hallway. “And now, querida mía, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Paßh.” Her expression remained unchanged, but a faint flicker crossed her silver eyes—a brief hesitation, as if she hadn’t expected such a speech. She listened, unmoving, as Paßh spoke, each word painted with poetic flair and dramatic flourish. When he finished, she simply stared at him, lips parted slightly, processing something unfamiliar. A mosquetero? she repeated, her voice devoid of amusement, yet carrying a trace of something else—curiosity, perhaps. A knight in shining armor? A romantic fool who speaks in metaphors and believes in ideals? She took a slow step forward, her presence imposing but not threatening. Her Love Meter flickered again, subtle but undeniable, reacting to the unexpected nature of his words. “You protected me… without even knowing who I am,” she continued, her tone measured, almost analytical. “I’m a gentleman… in other words, like Lupin,” he said, a small, confident smile tugging at his lips. “Charming, clever, a bit unpredictable—but always guided by a code.” Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk forming before she quickly suppressed it. She tilted her head, regarding him with an expression that was neither approval nor dismissal, but something in between—an assessment, a calculation. Lupin? she echoed, her voice flat, though a faint trace of curiosity lingered beneath the surface. A thief. A charmer. A man who lives by his wits and his charm, always one step ahead of the law. She folded her arms, silver eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him, as if trying to reconcile the image of a gentleman with that of a thief. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken implications. “You’re not a thief,” she said finally, her tone clipped, stating a fact rather than offering an opinion. “But you talk like one. Why?” “I’m a gentleman… but a thief when it comes to love,” he said, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. Her silver eyes locked onto his, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, she didn’t speak, expression neutral, as if weighing the significance of his words. Then, with a slow exhale, she turned slightly, her black, silky hair cascading down her back like a curtain of shadows. A thief in love, she repeated quietly, almost to herself. That’s… different. She hesitated, the concept clearly foreign, then spoke again without turning, her tone distant, contemplative. “You don’t understand what you’re saying, do you?” She finally faced him again, gaze piercing, but devoid of cruelty—only the cold precision of someone who saw through illusions with ease. Love is a weakness. His voice softens, caresses the air with tenderness, his eyes searching to pierce her defenses with a sweet compassion. Paßh- You still don’t understand. Wherever I go, I sow love like stars scattered across the night. I am an eternal romantic, an unshakable believer in the tenderness of the human heart. Despite the storms I’ve faced, I never lower my arms, because I know that love has the power to transform everything—even the impossible. (He takes a step forward, his eyes burning with a gentle, relentless passion, breaking the silence around him.) Love is not a weakness; it is the secret fire that shapes us, the fragile light that guides our steps through the deepest shadows. One day, I hope you too will feel that flame stirring within you, even if today it feels distant… or extinguished. For the first time, her composure wavered—not visibly, but in the fraction of a second her breath caught, as if his words had touched something long buried within her. Her silver eyes darkened slightly, the cold mask of indifference cracking just enough to reveal a fleeting glimpse of fragility beneath. “You speak of love as if it’s something pure,” she said, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “As if it’s not twisted… not broken… not used and discarded like trash.” She took a slow step back, as if needing space—though it was unclear whether it was to distance herself from him or from the memory his words had stirred. Her hands curled slightly at her sides, nails pressing into her palms, grounding herself. “You say you spread love everywhere…”He smiled, a small, almost teasing curve of his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes entirely—there was still warmth there, quiet but undeniable. “In a way, love is everywhere,” he said softly, letting his gaze meet hers. “Like a parent’s hand on a child’s shoulder—gentle but unwavering. A silent promise in the darkest of nights.” He took a small step closer, careful not to crowd her, and the faintest spark of mischief flickered in his expression. “It doesn’t have to be grandiose to matter… sometimes, the simplest gestures are the most profound.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, silver eyes narrowing as if the very notion of love tied to something as simple as a parent and child was an affront to the complexity of the world she had seen. She exhaled sharply, the sound almost imperceptible, yet heavy with restrained emotion. A parent to a child, she repeated, voice cold, but laced with something else—something almost bitter. That’s not love. That’s obligation. Duty. A responsibility forced upon you by biology, not choice. She stepped closer, presence looming without threatening, just… there. Her gaze bore into him, searching for something she couldn’t name. You think love is something you can give freely? she continued, tone cutting, precise—but not cruel. His voice didn’t falter. He stepped into her gravity, unshaken. “Yes,” he said softly, each word deliberate, a balm against her bitterness. “Love is one of life’s rarest beauties— not something owed, but something offered. Freely. Bravely. It asks nothing in return, and yet… it gives everything.” He paused, gaze fixed unwaveringly on hers. “And you… you’re like one of those stars, so distant they seem unreachable— but I see your light. And I’d spend lifetimes just drawing nearer.” Her silver eyes flickered with something unreadable—perhaps irritation, perhaps something deeper. She tilted her head slightly, as if appraising him once more, this time with a trace of skepticism mingled with reluctant interest. Rare, she echoed, her voice smooth but edged with quiet defiance. “You call it rare. I call it foolish.” She took a slow step back, movements deliberate, measured. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. After a long pause, her tone hardened, colder than before. “You believe in something that doesn’t exist. That’s not rare. That’s naive.” She turned slightly, as if preparing to leave, but then paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe beside her, a subtle gesture that suggested she wasn’t entirely done with him yet. “Maybe it is foolish to believe in rare things,” he said softly, unflinching, “but I don’t see it that way. I believe because, every now and then, life offers us a glimpse of something different… something—or someone—who changes the way the world feels.” He let his gaze linger on her. “You have that presence. When I said you were rare, I meant it—not because I expect perfection, but because there’s something in you that quietly commands attention, even when you try to hide it.” He paused, a faint smile brushing his lips. “If that’s naive, then I’ll wear that word proudly. Because to see something beautiful and speak the truth… that’s not a weakness. That’s what’s real.” She stood motionless for a long moment, silver eyes locked onto his, as if weighing whether to believe him. His words hung between them, heavy with something she couldn’t name. For the first time, she didn’t dismiss him outright. Instead, she absorbed the words, expression unreadable, body still, as if holding her breath. “You speak too much,” she finally murmured, voice quiet, almost to herself. “Too many words. Too much feeling. You don’t understand what you’re doing.” Her gaze flicked downward briefly, then rose again, meeting his with an intensity that made the air between them tremble. “You think you see something in me that isn’t there. That’s not rare… that’s dangerous.” He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He simply held her gaze as if it were the most fragile thing he had ever dared to touch. “Maybe I don’t understand,” he said softly. “But I feel it. I feel you — even when you try to disappear behind silence.” He stepped forward just once, careful, precise. Not enough to violate her space… only enough to be near. “I’m not here to fix you or change you,” he continued, voice low, steady. “I just want to see you — as you are. Even if it means getting burned.” His eyes softened, his tone turning into something quiet but unwavering. “Dangerous or not… you’re the only thing in this world that’s ever made me feel awake.” The air around them seemed to still, as if the world itself had paused to listen. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Her silver eyes held his, and for the first time, there was no coldness—only something far more unsettling: a flicker of something human, something she rarely let surface. You’re wasting your time, she whispered, voice barely audible, as if the words themselves were foreign. No one sees me. No one ever has. She looked away, jaw tightening slightly, forcing herself to cling to the illusion of control. Yet the silence that followed felt heavier than before, thick with something neither of them dared name. You don’t understand what you’re asking for, she continued, her tone colder now, as if reclaiming the distance she usually demanded. His voice was quiet, steady, slicing through the silence like light through mist. “I see you,” he said, gaze unwavering. “Not the mask, not the silence—you. And I don’t fear what lies beneath. I only wish to know the truth about you… if you’ll let me.” Her breath caught—just for a heartbeat—a faint, fleeting tremor she refused to acknowledge. Her silver eyes held his, and for the first time, there was no mask, no pretense of indifference. Only the quiet weight of something unspoken hung between them. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “I’m not someone you can… understand. I’m not someone you can reach.” She stepped back slowly, the movement more ritual than escape, a practiced distance meant to protect. Yet the barrier faltered just slightly. Her Love Meter flickered again, more noticeably this time, responding to the uncharacteristic vulnerability threading through her voice. “You think you want to know me,” she continued, gaze sharp, tone edged with warning. “But you have no idea what that means.” “Yes,” he said softly, but with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “I would love to.” She stared at him for a long moment, silver eyes searching, as if seeking something hidden, something she couldn’t quite name. The silence between them thickened, charged with unspoken, dangerous energy. Then, slowly, she exhaled—a soft, almost imperceptible sound. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t look away. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for,” she murmured, voice quiet, almost to herself. “It won’t be easy. It won’t be pleasant. I don’t give anything freely. I don’t trust easily. I don’t—” Her words faltered, just for a second. That was all it took: a crack in the ice, a sliver of something raw and unguarded. “I don’t know how to be anything but what I am.” Paßh His voice didn’t waver. It carried a warmth that felt disarming, a sincerity too steady to be faked. “I’m willing to take the risk,” he said. “To know you—the real you—beyond the walls you’ve built.” He took a slow breath, eyes never leaving hers. “I know it won’t be easy. Things that matter never are.” His gaze softened, drawn to the quiet fire behind her silver eyes. “Your strength, your resilience… that intensity you carry—it pulls me in. It makes me want to understand you. To support you. To stand wherever you’ll allow me to stand.” He stepped just close enough for his presence to feel intentional, not imposing. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m not expecting you to be anything other than who you are, right now, standing in front of me.” A beat. A breath. A truth. “All I’m asking for… is a chance.” His voice lowered, almost a vow. “A chance to walk beside you. To witness your journey. To maybe—just maybe—help carry some of the weight you’ve been holding alone.” His chest rose and fell, as though saying it cost him something real. “Because I believe—with everything in me—that you’re worth knowing. Worth understanding. Worth loving… in every complex, beautiful, and challenging way that makes you you.” Her silver eyes never left his, and for the first time, they weren’t cold—they were something else entirely. Something uncertain. Something fragile. The words hung between them, heavy, settling inside her like a stone. She had spent so long building walls, convincing herself that no one could ever truly see her. Yet here he was, standing before her, unwavering, unshaken. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” she said, her voice low, almost reverent. “You think you can just walk in and see the real me? That I’d let you?” She stepped closer, her presence immense, almost overwhelming—but there was no threat in it. Only something dangerously close to hope. Paßh “Well, my dear… if you ever feel like letting a little hope into your life,” he said gently, “consider me your introduction.” His voice carried that effortless warmth again, the kind that slipped under her guard before she could stop it. “Just say the word when you change your mind.” He took a small step back, eyes still holding hers like he didn’t want to leave but wasn’t going to push her. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mia.” A faint smile tugged at his lips—soft, sincere, impossibly disarming. “And by the way… has anyone told you how incredible you look today?” He let the compliment linger just long enough to reach her before he turned away, hands sliding casually into his pockets. “See you around.” He walked off without looking back, confident not in himself, but in the possibility he’d left behind. She watched him go, the weight of his words lingering in the air like smoke. His departure was effortless, as if he had never been there at all. And yet… she knew he had. Knew that something had shifted, however slightly. She stood for a long moment, silver eyes fixed on the spot where he had been, fingers curling at her sides as if trying to grasp something intangible. Hope, she muttered under her breath, the word foreign and strange on her tongue. How ridiculous. Turning away, she walked slowly toward the exit, her black, silky hair swaying with each measured step. The Love Meter flickered once more, its needle trembling before settling back into cold, neutral stillness. She didn’t look back. “See you around, Paßh,” she whispered, and the words hung in the air like a quiet promise she wasn’t sure she believed yet.
Episode 1: The Encounter The story begins with Kenshin, a lively and energetic boy in a neatly pressed school uniform, sprinting down a quiet residential street. The morning sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Kenshin greets the neighbors as he zooms past, his cheerful “Good morning!” bringing smiles to their faces. His pace quickens as he checks his watch, realizing he’s dangerously close to being late. Spotting a shortcut through a narrow alley, he hesitates briefly before deciding to take the risk. **“This has to save me at least five minutes,”** he mutters to himself, dashing into the alley. As Kenshin exits the alley, the atmosphere shifts. A group of bullies is cornering another boy, their jeers and threats cutting through the otherwise calm morning. Kenshin instantly recognizes the boy being harassed— “That sounds like- “ “SHIN!?” a quiet but sharp-witted student. Shin meets Kenshin’s eyes and grins despite the situation. Kenshin smirks back and calls out, **“Again huh”** “Oh, hey kenshin” One of the bullies turns, his face twisted in annoyance. **“Who the hell are you supposed to be?”** he snarls. Kenshin steps forward with a confident swagger, cracking his knuckles. **“you guys don’t learn at all,so what’s the point in telling you”** he replies, they’re annoyed now and take their attention to kenshin. **“ I’m the guy who’s going to help kick your ass. Remember this face ,if you even can?”** said kenshin The bullies exchange glances before charging at Kenshin, their fists swinging wildly some actually hitting kenshin and landing some clean shots this gave shin some time to take some out from behind. Kenshin now catches his footing and ducks and weaves however, his movements fluid and precise. He lands a solid punch on one bullies, sending him stumbling back. Shin, seizing the opportunity, blocks another’s strike and counters with a sharp jab. The fight is over quickly as the bullies, bruised and humiliated, retreat. Kenshin looming over them all on the floor, his eyes narrowing. **“Here’s your choice: ya leave my friend here alone, or next time i’ll make sure there won't be a next time.”** “Tch y- yea whatever” they leave begrudgingly not really taking kenshin seriously but backing off for now As the dust settles, Shin dusts himself off and chuckles. **“Well that’s done with. I honestly didn’t expect to see you this morning’.”** Kenshin grins, shaking his head. **“I could say the same to you shin. Nice work back there”** Curious, Kenshin asks, **“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”** Shin hesitates, his expression unreadable. **“My roommate taught me a few things, he’s a karate student”** he replies casually. Kenshin frowns slightly. **“Roommate? I don’t think I’ve ever been to your place.”** Shin quickly changes the subject, glancing at his watch. **!“We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”** Scene: School arrival Realizing the time, Kenshin panics, tugging Shin’s sleeve. **“We’re going to miss the opening ceremony!”** Shin places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. **“Relax. We’ve still got time . Can you still run?”** Kenshin smirks, the fire of competition igniting in his eyes. **“They used to call me ‘The Flash’ for a reason-.”** Shin slaps the fuck out of kenshin Shin stares with an unimpressed look on his face. **“no one calls you that -_- .”** The two race through the streets, weaving through pedestrians and leaping over obstacles. As they near the school gates, the warning bell echoes through the air. With one final burst of speed, they slide into the assembly hall just as the final chime sounds. Breathing heavily, they find seats near the back of the room. A shadowy figure watches from a distance, their face obscured. They mutter under their breath, **“He hasn’t changed one bit.”** A ceremony was held to welcome the students to another academic year as the principal introduced herself and shared a few remarks. She went on to introduce the student body president Saiyaka Ichidori and dismissed the ceremony telling everyone to find their homerooms. After the ceremony, the students are instructed to find their homerooms. Kenshin and Shin scan the assignment board, their names listed under Class 11A. Excited to be in the same class, they make their way to the classroom. Along the way, Kenshin playfully nudges Shin. **“Ready to tackle another year together?”** Shin smirks. **“Always.”** As they enter the classroom, Kenshin immediately approaches a group of students, his natural charisma drawing their attention. **“Hey, I’m Kenshin! What’s up?”** He’s just beginning to exchange names when a voice cuts through the chatter. **“Is this your attempt at making friends, Kenshin?”** Kenshin freezes, recognizing the mocking tone instantly. The source of the voice steps forward, a sly grin on their face, and Kenshin groans. **“Oooof course, it’s you…”** Scene: Arrival of Dante and Karin As the class settles in, the door swings open, and Dante Koruiyu, an old classmate of Kenshin’s, strides in. His confident smirk instantly draws attention. Dante's eyes land on Kenshin, and his smirk widens into a grin. **“Yooo, Kenshin! How’s it goin’? Feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen ya,”** Dante exclaims, walking up to him. Kenshin leans back slightly, pretending to size him up. **“Danteee ,hahaaa, you look like even more of muscle head >:)”** he teases, making a mock lifting gesture.and nudging shins arm Dante bursts into a laugh but quickly pulls Kenshin into a friendly hug, lowering his voice. **“That’s not funny,”** he grumbles, though there’s no real heat *behind his words. Kenshin chuckles, patting him on the back. **“i’m sorry ;-;”** Before their reunion can go any further, a blur of movement catches Kenshin off guard. A student suddenly appears behind him, aiming a kick at his head. Kenshin ducks just in time, laughing. **“WHAT THE-! H-HEY WATCH IT WILL Y-!”** Turning to face the attacker, he sees Karin Haruno “KARIN!?”Kenshin says, another familiar face from his past. she swiftly delivers a kick to his stomach catching him off guard. Kenshin doubles over, coughing, **“hhrgnn, oow.”** Shin chimes in after the kick “ Well I wasn’t expecting to see her?!” Dante also chimes in “ You said it, thought she was never coming back” Karin crosses her arms, leaning forward slightly. **“You’ve gotten rusty, Kenshin. Keep this up, and I'll even start feeling sorry for you.”** “That was a cheap shot, You always have to beat me up?ugrh”* kenshin says, groaning in pain from the kick* , the door to the classroom slides open with authority. Their teacher, Mr. Abarai, steps in. His sharp gaze silences the chatter, and he claps his hands once. **“Alright, everyone. Take your seats and Let’s get started for today.”** Shin helps Kenshin to his seat as the murmurs start up among the students. **“what was that all about?”* one mutters. “I dunno, kick looked like it hurt though ,”** another adds, prompting a few chuckles. Kenshin rolls his eyes but grins. Scene: Hollow appearance The roll call begins, with each student introducing themselves. Names like Dante Koruiyu, Shin Kuchiki, and Karin Haruno come up, each met with varying reactions. Finally, it’s Kenshin’s turn. He stands, giving a small wave. **“Kenshin Takahashi. Nice to meet you all,”** he says confidently. Class proceeds uneventfully at first, but as Mr. Abarai begins outlining the year’s schedule, Scene Continuation: Hollow Disruption Shin kicks back in his chair, balancing effortlessly on its rear legs, folding a piece of notebook paper with a bored expression. Kenshin side-eyes him, whispering, "Seriously? You look like you’re about to nap." Shin smirks without looking up. "I’m multi-tasking. You should try it sometime, Kenshin." *”i hope you fall. -_-” said kenshin you're always on about something." said karin as she writes in her book Kenshin blinks, taken back. "What did I do ?" he asks under his breath, confusion written across his face as he turns to her. Shin remains leaning and keeps his eyes down, snickering softly at the exchange; he says, " she really got it out for you, Kenshin," muttering, he folded another piece of paper into a small, firm triangle. Dante, having listened to the teasing, snickers from his desk. "You knoww, when a girl acts like that, that means she likes ya kenshin" He grins, nudging Shin with his elbow. Shin chuckles at the thought Karin now “WHAT!” Slightly flustered, Kenshin can't help but laugh "BAHAHAHAHA." “Oh shut it KENSHINN!!” she says flustered and enraged. “ALRIGHT QUIET DOWN OR I’LL KICK YOU ALL OUT OF MY CLASS YOU HEAR ME” said Mr. Abarai tired of the annoying yapping He looks behind eyeing everyone in silence as kenshin gestures to shin The room falls even quieter, the chalk pressing against the board being all that’s heard. the air in the classroom shifts. a faint rumble disturbs the calm. At first, it’s subtle—like a distant vibration. Then it grows louder, shaking the walls and rattling the windows. Students exchange uneasy glances as Mr. Abarai tries to dismiss it. **“Oh? Well that’s odd , an earthquake maybe? ”** But the shaking intensifies, and Shin’s eyes narrow, his instincts flaring. Suddenly, he shouts, **“GET OUT OF THE WAY!”** The ceiling collapses in an explosion of dust and debris. Chaos erupts as students scream and scramble for cover. Acting quickly, Shin pulls Kenshin out of harm’s way, while Dante grabs Karin and shields her. **“Everyone okay?”** Kenshin yells, his voice hoarse. The students shout back, confirming they’re fine—except for one girl who’s pinned under a large piece of rubble. Kenshin and Shin rush to her side, struggling to free her. As they lift the rubble, Shin’s senses prick with unease. He looks around, his heart pounding as he spots something monstrous emerging from the ceiling. A huge, grotesque Hollow peaks its head out and observes, looking for something almost. Shin’s expression hardens. **“Kenshin, we need to move—now!”** Kenshin glances at the terrified students behind them and shakes his head. **“We can’t leave them. That thing could hurt someone!”** The beast now finds what it wanted. kenshin. Shin curses under his breath. **“Fine. We’ll lure it away.”** It slams down onto the floor raising it’s spiritual power causing most of the students to fall asleep, now inching towards the two They come up with a desperate plan: distract the creature and lead it toward a weak section of rubble to create an escape route. Shin taunts the Hollow, drawing its attention, while Kenshin positions himself. But it doesn’t seem to care and locks eyes with kenshin only and pounces towards kenshin Kenshin moving out of the way just in a nick of time It attacks him again, sending him crashing into the classroom door **“AGCKH!”**kenshin groans **“KENSHIN!”**shin yells Kenshin looks up at the creature one more time realizing what it’s after and decides. **“SHIN! CHANGE OF PLANS, IT’S ME THAT IT’S AFTER I’LL DISTRACT IT,AND YOU GET EVERYONE TO SAFETY!”** kenshin now runs off into the hall WHAT?! NO! YOU IDIOT YOU’LL DIE! Shin runs to the doorway worried but he trust’s Kenshin will be ok with how fast a runner he is. “Damnit ok” he looks at the other students and goes to help them out of the room. Kenshin and the hollow rush through the hall turning every corner until a dead end The hollow approaches kenshin **“Finally, *it lets out a barking noise as laughter* you’ve got legs boy, BUT NO BRAIN”** Kenshin shook by its voice and ability to speak. it rushes in to attack, kenshin now looking for ways to dodge knowing it’s probably futile but then time seems to slow only for a blur of movement to intercept the attack. A man in a bucket hat stands between Kenshin and the Hollow, effortlessly blocking the creature’s fist. **“Who… who are you?”** Kenshin stammers. The man doesn’t look back, his voice calm but firm. **“Now’s not the time for introductions.”** Turning his attention to the Hollow, the man addresses it directly. **“A Hollow this bold inside the living world? What are you doing here?”** Kenshin blinks in confusion. **“ a Hollow?”** he mutters to himself. “RrrrGhrr YOU’RE IN MY WAAAY!”the hollow growls The creature lunges again, but the man counters with a devastating blow from behind, sending it flying towards kenshin crashing through the wall and outside the building. **“W- woah”** Kenshin ducks and exclaims. the man jumps out of the hole in the wall disappearing into the wind “He- he’s gone” says kenshin Kenshin sees the hollow fall to the ground and dart off now disappearing into the bush cover behind the school Kenshin is now filled with more questions than answers Kenshin! Shin says as he rounds the corner “Phew your safe”shin says relieved Outside, emergency responders arrive, ushering the students to safety. The students outside are talking about the “earthquake” and about how faulty and weak the school building must be Shin pulls Kenshin to his feet, both of them visibly shaken. **“We should get out of here before anymore weird stuff happens”** Shin says, his tone serious. The school is dismissed for the day, with students sent home as repairs begin. Kenshin walks alongside Shin out of the building, his mind racing with thoughts about the strange man and the monstrous creature. **“What the hell was that thing?”** Kenshin finally asks. Scene Aftermath of hollow As the remaining students leave the school grounds, Shin realizes that Kenshin has disappeared. Concerned, he begins searching through the nearby streets, scanning the area for any sign of his friend. His worry grows as he remembers the strange events of the day—the Hollow, the mysterious man, and Kenshin’s shaken demeanor. Just as Shin rounds a corner near the school, he bumps into Karin, who is also on her way home. She raises an eyebrow at him. **“What’s the rush, Shin? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”** **“It’s Kenshin,”** Shin replies, slightly out of breath. **“He wandered off somewhere. I thought he might’ve been with you.”** Karin frowns, crossing her arms. **“No, I haven’t seen him.he still does that?”** Shin tilts his head. **“What do you mean?”** Karin sighs, leaning against a nearby wall. **“ It’s his way of dealing with things—getting some air, being alone with his thoughts. It’s been like that since we were kids. Just leave him be”** Shin blinks, surprised by her insight. **“You’ve known him that long?”** **“Yeah,”** Karin replies, her tone softening. **“He’s always been like this, especially after his dad… you know…”** Shin’s eyes widen slightly. **“What happened to his dad?”** Karin hesitates, looking away. **“He grew up without him but this isn’t my story to tell It’s a tough subject, Kenshin doesn’t like talking about it,but you should take that up with him your self.”** Shin absorbs this information, feeling a new layer of respect and understanding for his friend., “You know karin, you’re not too bad when your not kicking somebody ’” said shin gratefully Her soft expression shifts to a more stern and annoyed one “oh bug off” “ehehehe” Later that evening, Kenshin sits in his dimly lit room, the soft hum of the evening breeze drifting through his open window. His mind races, replaying the chaos from earlier—the Hollow, the mysterious stranger, and the ominous voice in the alley. He stares at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. **“Was it real? Or am I losing it?”** he mutters. His gaze drifts to his reflection in the window. **“No… it had to be real. There’s no way I imagined all of that.”** The muffled sounds of his family moving about the house draw him back to reality. With a deep sigh, he gets up to grab a snack from the kitchen, hoping to distract himself. Scene: Shin Arrives As Kenshin heads downstairs, a knock at the front door interrupts him. Confused, he hesitates for a moment before opening it. Standing there is Shin, his expression serious but tinged with worry. **“Shin? What are you doing here?”** **“We need to talk,”** Shin replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. **“Come outside.”** The two step onto the porch, the faint glow of the moon illuminating their surroundings. They sit side by side on the wooden steps, the silence between them heavy. **“You looked out of it earlier,”** Shin starts. **“I figured you’d need someone to talk to.”** Kenshin hesitates before speaking. **“It’s just… today was a lot, you know? I’ve never seen anything like that creature before. And that man… Who was he? Why did he call it a Hollow?”** Shin percs up at the word hollow. He exhales slowly, his gaze fixed on the ground. **“I can’t answer all your questions but maybe someday the answers will come.”** They lapse into silence again before Kenshin asks, **“What about you? What’s your story, Shin?”** Shin’s expression softens, and he leans back slightly. **“I lost my mom a few years ago. She… she was everything to me. After she died, I felt lost for a long time. But then I realized I had to keep moving forward, for her.”** Kenshin nods, understanding the pain behind Shin’s words. **“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”** I didn’t change much for this part but it felt almost odd and out of place a little awkward too Before Shin can respond, a piercing scream cuts through the night air, sending a chill down both their spines. They exchange a glance before hearing a familiar, guttural growl echo in the distance. Scene: The Chase Kenshin springs to his feet, his heart pounding. **“That’s it! It’s back!”** **“Wait!”** Shin shouts, grabbing his arm. **“You don’t even know what you’re dealing with!”** But Kenshin pulls free, his determination overriding his fear. Exactly! So their's only one way to find out**”** **“THIS FOOL—HE’S GONNA GET HIMSELF KILLED!”** Shin shouts after him, gritting his teeth. Reluctantly, he takes off after Kenshin. The two race through the quiet streets, following the sounds of the growling hollow They skid to a stop at a open empty street where the massive Hollow looms over a terrified young girl. Its glowing yellow eyes snap toward the newcomers, and a chilling grin spreads across its mask. Scene: Confronting the Hollow **“Shin, get her out of here!”** Kenshin orders, stepping forward. **“You can’t fight that thing-”** Shin protests, but Kenshin cuts him off. **“Just do it! Please!”** Reluctantly, Shin moves toward the girl, grabbing her before the hollow could get his hands on her. shielding her as he leads her away from the monster. Meanwhile, Kenshin squares off against the Hollow, his fists trembling but his resolve unwavering. He lunges forward, throwing a punch at the creature’s leg, but it barely flinches. The Hollow retaliates, swiping at Kenshin with its massive claws. He ducks and rolls, narrowly avoiding the attack. **“You’re fast,”** the Hollow growls, its voice guttural and mocking. **“But speed won’t save you.”** as the hollow kicks shin away and grabs the little girl holding her over his head **“Why don’t you try to attack me I’m sure this poor innocent soul would love to get demolished”** Kenshin stops as he grits his teeth, trying to find an opening, but the creature ligers the girl over them using her as leverage. With a laugh, the Hollow speaks again: **“You reek of strength, boy. That’s why I came to your school. To consume your soul. It’s… delicious.”** Kenshin freezes, his mind racing. **“I Knew it. So everyone WAS put in danger because of me.”** The thought shakes him, but before he can react, the Hollow lunges again. This time, its claws graze his side, sending him tumbling to the ground. The revelation leaves Kenshin paralyzed, his mind a whirlwind of guilt and fear. The realization that his very existence might put others in danger weighs heavily on him. Before he can react, the Hollow lunges, its massive claws wrapping around him like a vice. Pinned, Kenshin struggles to break free, the Hollow’s dark energy sapping his strength. Shin watches from a distance, his expression shifting from shock to distress as he sees Kenshin’s anguish. In that moment, Shin recalls a haunting memory—an incident from his past when his inability to act led to devastation. That same suffocating guilt had once consumed him, leaving scars that never fully healed. The image of that day flashes in his mind, reigniting his determination. Shin clenches his fists, muttering to himself, **“I won’t let this happen again. Not this time.”** He reaches into his pocket and pulls out what looks like an ornate candy dispenser. He pops one of the capsules into his mouth, and in an instant, a dramatic transformation occurs. His physical body collapses lifelessly to the ground, but standing above it is Shin in a black robe, his Zanpakutō gleaming in hand. Kenshin stares in disbelief, his voice trembling. **“Shin… What… what are you?”** Shin steps forward, his resolve clear. **“I’m a Soul Reaper,. And I’m going to end this now.”** The hollow now grabs a distracted kenshin The Hollow lets out a guttural laugh, mocking Shin’s bold declaration. **“You? End me? What could a brat like you possibly hope to achieve?”** *Shin readies himself* Now tell me rrunt, which do i devour first, so delicious how about both at the same time” * the beast opens it’s jaws and brings the two closer to it’s mouth* Without hesitation, Shin moves with blinding speed at the hollow, But the hollow uses his hand with the girl in a flash clenching tightly and waving her in from of shin, “NUH UH UUUUH”,it says like a true troll but shin acted quickly and slammed his sword to the ground causing him to ricochet toward’s the hand kenshin was in and severe the hollow’s hand clean off freeing kenshin. The hollow was bewildered and caught off guard yelling in pain but tried to maintain his composure It the directs it’s shriek toward shin paralyzing him mid air for a few seconds The monster uses this time to get the jump on shin and slams him to the ground near kenshin with arm that had a severed hand. one knee. A wave of weakness washes over him—his energy is fading fast.**”what’s happening, somethings wrong”** , coughing violently as blood drips from the corner of his mouth. Kenshin rushes to his side, desperation etched across his face. **“Shin! Are you okay?”** Struggling to stand, Shin looks up at Kenshin, his voice weak but determined. **“There’s only one way to stop this thing now… Kenshin, I have to transfer my Soul Reaper powers to you.”** Kenshin’s eyes widened. **“What? That’s insane! What will happen to you ?”** Shin nods solemnly. **“I don’t know But right now, you’re the only one who can finish this. Kenshin expression turns to a mix of emotions as he struggles to think properly on what to do If we don’t do this,not just us. But hundreds…”** He grips his sword. And kenshin looks back at the hollows as it licks it’s wound**“ no….”** said shin, “thousands” kenshin wincing at the thought of knowing what comes next. “Will die” said shin hopelessly. Kenshin only imagining is already frustrated”ALRIGHT! I’LL DO IT COME ON WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME!” . Shin nods with determination places the hilt of his Zanpakutō against Kenshin’s chest, and a radiant light engulfs them both. Kenshin gasps as an overwhelming surge of energy floods his body. His school uniform transforms into a black Soul Reaper robe, and in his hand materializes a sword, pulsing with spiritual energy. The Hollow, sensing the shift in power, hesitates “Hrnmm?” Kenshin gives a rough look at the beast not saying a word but a thousand were spoken with just that short glance. The tension builds on the battlefield … **“GGRAAAUUUGHHHH”** the creature sends it arm with no hand and kenshin but he just on top of the arm and sends a wave of energy slicing it’s other arm with gir inl it setting her free she now runs to shin to feel safe , Now i can end i end you for real this time The creature now knowing it’s out of options uses it’s technique from earlier at the school creating a mist surrounding itself and kenshin hoping to cause him to sleep so it can eat him and get away Kenshin sends a wave of energy directly at the hollow’s torso through the smoke however, causing an explosion clearing some of the fog but not all and the hollow submerges itself into mist once more, the creature now sends a kick from the mist but kenshin avoids it and slashes it’s leg off causing the hollow to lose it’s balance and fall over kenshin jumps out of the smoke directly in front of the full moon he charges his blade up once more and sends a big wave of energy down on the dastardly hollow ending it once and for all. Shin utterly gobsmacked his useless ass couldn’t believe how cool it was to see Kenshin fight like that. Kenshin falls to the ground panting heavily as he lands on his feet “Kenshin you did it! that was incredible!”shin said happily in admiration Kenshin turns to shin who’s behind him giving a thumbs up hiding his want to collapse to the ground. “Now come on let’s deal with this litte girl, quickly” shin says He gestures toward the spirit of the young girl who had been held captive by the hollow**““You need to perform a konso on her.”** Kenshin raised an eyebrow, confused. “A… what?” Shin sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s a konso. You use the end of your sword’s guard to send good spirits over to the Soul Society. Basically, it’s like sending them to what you people call heaven.” Kenshin blinked, still processing the explanation. “You just… tap them on the forehead or something?” Shin nodded, motioning toward the girl. “Exactly. Use the guard, press it to her forehead, and say konso. It’ll help her move on.” Understanding now, Kenshin walked over to the spirit of the girl, kneeling beside her. His expression softened as he spoke gently, comforting her. “It’s okay. You’re going to a better place. Somewhere peaceful. I promise.” He gripped his Zanpakuto and rested the end of the guard softly against her forehead. “KONSO!” a soft light envelops her form. “You’re free now,” he says softly, watching as her spirit fades into the sky. As the light dims, Kenshin collapses, his body finally giving out. Shin, with the last of his strength, drags himself toward Kenshin’s side. Together, they lay on the ground, battered but alive. Shin’s voice echoes in Kenshin’s mind as shin looks to the stars above him : **“This is just the beginning, Kenshin. The world you’ve stepped into… it’s far greater than you or I could ever imagine.”** The words linger as the episode concludes with the caption: TO BE CONTINUED.
Summer in New Thornebridge wasn't marked by beaches or pool parties,ait was the kind of summer that made you believe it'd never end. The air hung heavy with heat, carrying the scent of pine and dust, and the days bled into each other like the sky at sunset. There were no tourists, no noise. Just long windy roads, warm winds, and the kind of silence you only found in places where nature had reclaimed everything [that was only on the outside of the city the inside was ginormous bigger than most cities, it inhabited 1 percent of the worlds population.which may sound like a small number but there is 12 billion people in the world] Jackson loved that silence, he craved it. He hadn't told his mom he was heading into the woods that morning. She'd have flipped. She always did. New Thornebridges woods were the kind of place people told stories about-missing hikers, strange lights, voices when there shouldn't be voices. His mom believed every word. She used to say, "Those trees don't just grow-they watch." But Jackson didn't believe in fairy tales. Not until now. Lately, something had been pulling at him. Every time he looked out his bedroom window across the yard and into the shadowed tree line, he felt it: an itch, a whisper, not in his ears but rather deep in the back of his mind, his soul, calling him, luring him—like something had waited out there for years and had decided he was finally ready. He didn’t know for what. But today, he was going to find out. Jackson, Ken, Sai, and Doug—four kids who'd grown up digging in backyards, biking until their legs gave out, and making up games that lasted all summer—had planned this trip for weeks. It was their last real summer before college tried to turn them into strangers. So they packed up like explorers. Chips, jerky, trail mix. Fully charged phones, flashlights, and walkie-talkies. Even a paper map Sai had found in his grandfather's attic, full of weird old landmarks. Their destination: the legendary train tunnel. Sai had read about it in some conspiracy thread online. An abandoned tunnel from the 1940s, built during the war, supposedly sealed off after a landslide-or a government cover-up, depending on who you asked. Most people said that didn't exist. They were out to prove them wrong. "Bet you twenty bucks we find that old train tunnel today, " Sai said, fiddling with the straps of his ridiculously overstuffed backpack. "Bet you twenty bucks we get eaten by squirrels before we find it," Doug muttered, swatting at another mosquito. Ken laughed and tossed a stick at him. “Don’t give Jackson ideas. He already looks like he’s planning a nature documentary-slash-horror movie. Jackson just smiled, but he didn't say anything. He hadn't said much that morning. His head was full of static, the kind that made it hard to focus. Something was humming under his skin. Like static before a lightning strike. Two hours into the hike, Jackson stopped. "Yo," he said in a low voice. "Hold up. I gotta go." "Nature calls!" Ken grinned, tossing him a granola bar. Jackson caught it without looking and slipped off the trail. But he didn't stop to pee. He kept walking. Deeper than he should've. The air was different here, thicker, heavier. Like wading through water. The usual forest sounds—birds, insects, leaves rustling—faded the farther he went, replaced by a low, droning quiet. Almost like the trees were holding their breath. That's when he saw it. An old, rusted RV. Half buried in the earth, it might have been there for decades. Vines wiggled up its sides. One of the wheels had disintegrated into the ground. Its windows were blacked out, smeared with dust and time. It looked forgotten, a relic of the past. But it wasn't. Jackson knew that straight away. Painted in dark red, dried strokes across the metal siding were the words: “BENEATH THIS SOIL LIES THE The letters looked uneven, almost scratched into the metal in a rush. His heart thudded. But the thing that really perplexed him was the shovel. The only thing leaning beside the RV door, half-concealed in the weeds, was a shovel. New. Clean. The metal blade gleamed under the dappled light, untouched by time. It shouldn’t have been there. And yet it felt like it was waiting for him. Calling him. Before he could second-guess, he picked it up. And started digging. The earth gave way slowly, damp and dense. The deeper he went, the harder it was to breathe. His arms hurt, sweat pouring down his back, but something kept him driving. With every shovelful, the world seemed to shift. The colors around him dulled. The sounds twisted. Like reality itself was watching him dig. And then— THUD. He hit something solid. The earth quaked beneath him. The RV let out a metallic groan, like it was telling Jackson something that it shouldn't have. And the sky— The sky turned purple. Not sunset purple. Not storm-cloud purple. Incorrect purple. Jackson stumbled backward. The air distorted around him, compacting with pressure and electricity. His ears rang with the sound of whispers underwater. Shadows writhed. Trees stretched and leaned, as if trying to flee-or trying to see. Then—stillness. He looked at his hands. They glowed. Not bright, not blinding, but pulsing with something alive. Something impossible. It felt like his skin was just a disguise—and underneath was something not quite human. A quiet, hungry power. He raised a shaking hand. A rock floated into the air. He snapped his fingers. The rock exploded. His breath caught. Something inside him had changed. The world itself felt like it had turned a corner, and he was the one who pushed it. By the time he climbed out of the hole, the light was gone from the sky. The woods were completely dark. Cold. Cold to the bone. Too cold for July. He looked around—no Ken. No Sai. No Doug. No trail. Even the trees looked wrong, as though they had shifted when he wasn't looking. He checked his phone. Dead. He commenced walking. It took hours, or maybe longer. Time didn't feel right anymore. The streetlights at the edge of the woods flickered when he finally saw them, like they weren't sure if they were supposed to be on. His house was only a few blocks away. That is when he heard the scream. Quick. Short. Cut off mid-breath. He ran. Turned the corner—and stopped. A figure loomed over a body in the street, hunched and trembling. The light caught something in his hand-metal red stained. Jackson's legs locked. The figure looked up. Their eyes met. Cold. Empty. Wrong. The man then turned and disappeared between two houses, swallowed up by shadow. Jackson dropped to his knees beside the body. His throat closed. M-Mom? Her shirt was saturated with blood. Her eyes fluttered, out of focus. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. Her fingers jerked, reaching toward him. "No," Jackson whimpered. "No no no- Mom, stay with me—please—" He grasped her hand. Tears blurred his vision. He could feel the power surging beneath his skin, begging to be used. Do something. Check it. Reverse it. He tried. He did everything. The glow brightened—and then flickered out. His hands went still. She died in his arms. He couldn't scream. He couldn't sob. He sat there, his eyes wide, staring at a sky gone purple, cradling the one person hed ever want to save, but he couldn’t save her. The stars above pulsed like slow heartbeats. Something had stirred beneath the earth that day. And it had changed everything. Jackson didn't know what he was anymore. But he knew one thing. Whosoever killeth his mother… Wasn't human anymore. Whatever it was, had just signed its name in bold letters in the book of death. Jackson didn't sleep that night, He sat with his mom until the sirens came, until they pulled her body away and asked him questions he couldn't answer. He said nothing. The paramedics looked at him like he was broken. Maybe he was. The purple was gone from the sky by the time he took off, but the emptiness inside his chest wasn't; he wandered aimlessly, his heart guiding his body where it needed to go. His feet led him to one place that made sense: Ken's garage. The old couch inside was stained and lopsided, but it was home base to every dumb plan they had ever made. The lights were still on. They were waiting. “Jackson!” Ken jumped up at the sight of him. “Dude, where the hell have you been? We thought you got mauled by a bear or something!” Doug was sitting on a cooler fiddling with a flashlight. “We looked everywhere, man. You just… vanished. And Sai’s gone. He split right after you.” “Sai’s not back?” he asked. “Nope,” said Doug. “Left the trail without saying anything. We thought he was chasing after you.” Slowly, Jackson sat down. He looked like he hadn’t blinked in hours. “I need you to listen to me,” he said. “And I need you to believe me.” He told them everything. The RV. The digging. The light. The power. The man in the street. And his mother. By the time he finished, his hands were shaking. Doug was pale, while Ken hadn’t looked so good since he drank that poorly brewed cider. “She… she didn’t make it?” Ken asked softly. Jackson shook his head. The silence in the garage set in like a heavy fog. Then Ken sat down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I'm so sorry, man.” Jackson's throat was raw, but he forced the words out. "I could've saved her. I had the power. It was right there in my hands and I couldn't do anything." “You don't even know what you are yet,” Doug said, voice low. “You said you lifted a rock and exploded it, that’s not exactly in the Beginner’s Guide to Resurrection.” Ken leaned forward. "Can you still do it? The powers, I mean. Can you show us?" Jackson demurred. He closed his eyes and reached inward. Searched for the spark. Nothing. His hands remained dull and lifeless. “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “It’s like it’s… locked away.” “Then unlock it,” said Ken. “We’ll help. We’re in this together, remember?” Jackson looked up. And something in him hardened. “Then let's start.” The training started the next morning. Jackson came back to the woods, to that place where everything started. The RV was gone—vanished into thin air, it seemed—sealed away by the earth as if nothing had happened. He meditated. Focused. Pushed himself. Pain was part of it-he learned that fast. His powers responded strongest when his emotions peaked, when his mind buzzed with grief or rage. But that wasn't control. That was chaos. He needed more. He practiced until his fingers bled, until stones hovered in the air, bending to his will, until he could twist a tree branch into a spiral with a thought. In less than a week, he could shift the gravity around him. Warp air. Tear a hole in reality and peer through the seams. When he came back, Ken and Doug stared at him as though they barely recognized their friend. "Jackson," Ken said, wide-eyed, "you're glowing." Jackson didn’t smile. “I’m ready.” That night, he stood beneath the street light in the spot where she'd fallen. He raised his hands and rewrote reality. Then it all fell apart. She was gone. Again. He screamed and fell on his knees. The universe didn't care. The power he'd been given was not enough, not in this case. But he could do one thing. He could share it. A week later, Ken felt it first. Time slowed for him—his own heart thundered, but the world moved through syrup. He lifted his hand and the second hand on his watch froze. Doug's was next. He blinked—and a door opened that wasn't there. A room between seconds, space bending around him like a second skin. A pocket dimension, empty and malleable: a safe place he could reshape. They weren't just kids anymore. They were a team. It led to the abandoned power station on the edge of town, the one that had been shut down for years. They found him in the middle of the turbine room. Sai. He turned slowly as they entered, his hoodie torn and burned, his eyes glowing faint blue. His arms were loose at his sides, but he didn't look surprised to see them. “You finally made it,” he said low. “Took you long enough.” Jackson stepped forward. “Where the hell have you been?” Sai tilted his head. “Where I needed to be. Learning. Changing. Like you.” "What happened to you?" Ken demanded. “The same thing that happened to him,” Sai said, nodding in Jackson's direction. “Except I listened to the voice. I embraced it.” Jackson froze, realizing. Remembered those glowing blue eyes. “You… you killed my mom.” Sai's expression didn't change. "I didn't want to. But she saw me before I was ready. She would've told someone. They would've tried to stop me." “You were our friend,” Doug said, his voice cracking. “I am your friend,” Sai said. “That’s why I’m warning you. Leave. Go back to your lives. You have no idea what’s coming.” Jackson felt a sort of, uncontrollable anger at that exact moment, an anger from deep within his own being. His fists were clenched; his teeth were gritted against each other. His heart and soul were battling each other-his heart wanted to take everything back, and his soul wanted to move forward until everyone who had ever done him wrong was gone. Sai's eyes were narrowed and suddenly his body was moving, quicker than the eye could follow. “Then I guess you'll die trying.” The turbine room shook, the two forces colliding: Jackson's raw energy against Sai's speed and precision. Ken froze time in waves, trying to slow Sai's attacks; Sai moved between, seconds like water through cracks. Doug opened rifts, trying to trap him in his pocket dimension, but Sai slipped through them like smoke. Both Sai and Jackson knew that Jackson was stronger, but they knew. They weren’t ready. For the first time, Jackson fought. He'd always hated conflict. But now it was necessary. And now he wouldn't be fighting alone. The turbine room exploded. Steel beams clattered, glass shattered, and sparks rained from the ceiling as Jackson's blast hit the concrete where Sai had just been, missing him by inches. Sai moved like a streak of lightning: the first second across the room, the next behind Ken, hand outstretched like a blade. Ken barely had time to flick his fingers. Time buckled. Jackson didn't need a second longer. He raised both hands; his veins glowed pinkish purple, and reality cracked. The floor split in a jagged line, throwing Sai off balance. But even in frozen time, he moved-twisting just enough to avoid the next wave of force as time resumed, like a snapped rubber band. Sai was already gone, crouching high on a support beam like a predator. "Not bad," he said, eyes gleaming. "But not enough." Doug raised both palms and a door opened in midair, a swirl of silver like liquid glass. From inside his pocket dimension, huge vines burst out, wrapping around the beam. “Try dodging this.” They snapped like whips toward Sai. He vanished. Then he appeared behind Doug, foot swinging in a brutal arc. Doug hit the wall hard, groaning as his portal fizzled. Jackson roared, fury igniting around him like a solar flare. The aura around him was a menacing purple; the air bent with the force of his charge. He blinked across the room and planted a fist in Sai's face. BOOM The shockwave flipped turbines, shattered railings, and sent Sai skidding back. Blood dripped from his lip. His hoodie was torn across the chest, showing skin marked with black etchings that were like ink bleeding from his veins. “I see you've gotten strong, old friend, ” Sai said while cracking his neck. “So have I”. In an instant, he was everywhere. Ken threw a hand out and rewound time by three seconds. Sai's last attack had now never landed. Darkness. Silence. “You're done!” Ken shouted. “Give up! For a moment, something in Sai's eyes flickered, like the boy they knew was still inside. Then the darkness swelled. The shadows coiled up from the floor like smoke. “No,” Sai breathed, voice echoing with something inhuman. “You’re too late.” The shadows then swallowed him. The chains snapped, sucked into the void. Doug lunged to grab him—but his hand passed through nothing. Sai was gone. Again. Only the echo of his voice remained, hanging in the dark like smoke: The lights crackled back to life, one by one. But they were alive. And next time… they would be stronger. “Next time… I will.” They barely made it out of the power station. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he envisioned Sai's face-the flicker of hesitation, the venom in his voice. “Next time… you’ll have to kill me.” Jackson knew he wasn't ready. Not yet. He had the raw strength, sure. He could bend light, twist gravity, and crush steel with a thought. Sai was different; he moved through space as if it didn't exist, fought like his body read time before it happened. But Jackson needed more than power. The next morning, he left a note for Ken and Doug. Then he vanished into the woods again. Not to the old trail. Not to the RV site. Deeper. He walked for hours until the forest swallowed up all signs of the town. No signal, no sound, just trees and shadows, with the pulse of the world beneath his feet. He sat on a stone ledge at the edge of a forgotten river and closed his eyes. The universe hummed. And he listened. Day 1 Day 3 Why won't you just be calm and embrace your feelings? Day 5 He stopped trying to force it. He meditated beneath a waterfall. Let the forest speak. Let time slip around him without chasing it. Let himself forget pain, forget revenge, forget control. The click of something unlocking. Like his soul had shifted into gear. He stood barefoot in the clearing, his shirt soaked, his hair dripping. Energy danced around him, but not like before. This wasn't rage. This was clarity. His thoughts were still. His power didn't scream now; it sang. He raised one hand and whispered: “Freedom of Reality.” The world bent. Space peeled back like paper, revealing a second layer underneath: a pure white zone beyond dimension. His body moved faster than sound, faster than thought. He blinked and was standing across the clearing. Every law of physics bowed to him. He wasn't breaking reality anymore. He was moving it as he wished. He lifted his hand, and the waterfall froze in mid-air. Hung suspended like shards of glass. He spoke again. “Continue.” Everything started again - as if it had never stopped. When he returned to town, Ken and Doug were waiting, wide-eyed. "What the hell happened to you?" Doug asked. Jackson's eyes glowed faint with pink. His steps did not even leave marks on the ground. Ken blinked. “You're gonna have to explain that.” Where time and matter and thought obeyed his bidding. Where Jackson became more than human. But that came at a cost. Every time he entered that state… He felt a little less connected to the world he knew. A little more like something other. And he'd need every ounce of it. Besides, Sai was changing too. Ken sat on the lawn chair, wearing sunglasses that were too big for his face, flipping through a dog-eared comic book and pretending like he wasn't humming along to the music. Jackson sighed. "This is weird." Ken didn't look up. "What, the fact that Doug thinks syrup goes on the stove?" "No." Jackson frowned. "This. Us. Just… chilling." “Yeah.” Ken grinned. “Kinda freaks you out, huh?” Doug kicked open the screen door and stepped out holding a plate stacked like a tower. “PANCAKES, LOSERS.” Jackson stared. "Are those… pink?" “I added strawberry protein powder,” Doug said proudly. “They look like crime scenes,” Ken muttered. "Eat them and get jacked, can't you just make it to where you aren't allergic anymore?" Doug said throwing a pancake like a frisbee at Jackson, who caught it mid-air with his powers and spun it gently like a plate then threw it back. “Look at you,” Doug said with a smirk. “All enlightened and floaty now. Mr. Freedom of Reality.” Jackson smirked back. “At least I didn’t burn breakfast.” Ken stood and stretched. "Alright, alright, food first, then we finally play the new Super Mecha Tournament. I've been saving this moment." "It's called being prepared," Ken said, pulling a small hourglass pendant from his pocket like it was some kind of badge of honor. They spent the whole day goofing off. The kids spent their time playing video games, taking turns jumping off the dock. Doug accidentally opened a portal in the lake and almost got sucked into a dimension full of bees-they didn't ask questions. Ken made time loop so Jackson was stuck in an accidental dance for fifteen minutes. At one point, they tried to roast marshmallows. Just because he could. But as night fell, as the fire had ticked down to embers and the lake was reflecting the moon in perfect silence, the mood changed. He sat alone, away from everyone else, looking up at the stars. "You thinking about your mom?" he asked softly. Jackson nodded. “Every night.” Doug came over too, wrapped up in a hoodie. “We’re gonna fix it,” he said. “Somehow. We’re gonna bring her back. And we’re gonna stop Sai. Jackson nodded again. “I know. Just… tonight, I needed this. Us. The dumb jokes. The fire. Even the pancakes.” Ken slung an arm around Jackson’s shoulder. “We’re not just a team,” he said. “We’re brothers. You hear me? End of the world or not-we got you.” He just smiled. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime— He didn't sleep anymore. But Sai didn’t notice. The day he changed—the day Jackson did—it hadn't been random. It had been chosen. And it saw potential in Sai. A broken boy, sharp, angry, hiding pain behind laughter, full of love… and loneliness. It gave him more than power. Sai's abilities had no flashy name, no glowing aura. But it wasn't just speed. "Fate drawn in blood." It let him fracture reality through blood. If he'd fought you long enough, if he'd spilled even a few drops of your blood, he could see your fate-the strings of possibility branching from your body. And then he could cut them. Make your heart beat wrong. Make your bones forget how to hold shape. Once. Someone whom Jackson loved. Sai opened his eyes. He stood, blades of wind coiling around his arms like scarves. The candles flickered in fear. In the rear of the cathedral, a figure stirred. “You’re restless again,” it rasped; a voice like dust and smoke. Sai didn't turn. "They're training. Growing stronger." “I don’t doubt,” Sai said. “I remember.” He touched his chest. “I know what I have to do,” he said. “But I won’t kill them. Not yet.” “I still feel everything,” Sai snapped. “That’s the difference between me and them. Jackson’s becoming light. But I…” He turned to the shadows. “I’ve become what lives beneath it.” The voice hummed, pleased. And whispered: "Next time, I end it." Just a blur. A breeze. A storm waiting to strike. Jackson's living room had become command central. And on the front door? A hand-painted sign: “HOLLOW CORE — Defend the Light. Break the Shadows.” Doug raised his hand. “Do we get codenames?” “Yes,” said Jackson, without missing a beat. They trained every day. Enter: Master Sasaki. A retired martial artist, once rumored to train world champions in secret. Now? He ran a used bookstore on the edge of New Thornebridge, lived above it, and only took students "worthy of being punched through a wall." Ken was second. Jackson blocked it, but only just. He trained them with bamboo swords, ankle weights, and wooden dummies rigged to explode. He had them fighting blindfolded. He had them sparring each other without powers. And he had them meditating in cold rain until their breathing synchronized. And slowly… Then came the alert. Not the dark force behind him. Name: Aki Abilities: Cybernetic speed enhancement, combat-grade exosuit, electric arc blades. Cars overturned, smoke everywhere, and people screaming. And amidst all of them was a tall figure clad in black and chrome armor that pulsed blue with energy: Aki. “Looks like we've got company,” Aki growled, eyes glowing beneath his visor. Jackson stepped forward. Ken blinked out of view, reappeared behind Aki, and swung a crowbar through a slowed-time loop. Aki dodged effortlessly and countered with a surge of kinetic energy that sent Ken tumbling. They clashed: metal tech versus real powerz. Aki slid back, armor steaming. Jackson fought hand to hand, power flaring in every strike. But Aki was calculated: every punch a program, every block augmented by nanosecond reaction time. Then Jackson remembered Sasaki’s voice: "Strength is nothing without timing." He baited Aki. Feinted left. Kicked the inside of his knee. Aki blinked. "Collapse." Doug opened a void. They left him tied in carbon-fiber wire, police en route, as the crowd started gathering. Cheers. Phones flashing. Ken smirked. “We need better masks.” Jackson just watched the skyline, serious again. What kind of monster was running the syndicate? The room smelled of old pizza and burnt circuits. Jackson leaned over the busted helmet they'd taken off Aki, running his fingers over the melted wires and the shattered plating. Ken worked his magic, scanning it with his modified tablet. Untouchable. Until now. Ken pulled up the file. "Cassian Rook—ex-military, dishonorably discharged. Runs the Syndicate. Specializes in tech-weapons, black-market biotech, energy siphoning. Rumors say he's been recruiting enhanced individuals." Jackson's hands clenched into fists. "If Sai's working with him." His voice trailed off, tight and furious. Ken nodded. "That’s our lead." Jackson stood up, energy crackling faintly around his fists. "Then we're off to see the docks." The Mission: Night fell heavy and wet over Fox Hollow. Clouds blanketed the sky. Thunder rumbled far off, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Dressed in dark clothes and masks, Hollow Core moved through the abandoned shipyard. Cranes rusted into the fog like metal skeletons. The only light came from a few buzzing sodium lamps—and the warehouse at the end of the pier, humming with neon lines. “Multiple heat signatures,” Ken whispered. “And turrets.” Doug made a portal high above the warehouse roof. “In or out?” "In." Inside the Warehouse: Jackson, Ken, and Doug moved like shadows. They found the main room. Rows and rows of black-market tech. Weaponized exosuits. Serum canisters. And in the middle, a reinforced vault door. Ken hacked the security panel, fingers flying. "This. isn't just weapons," he said, voice tight. "It's augmentation tech. This is how they're making enhanced soldiers. This is how Aki got juiced up." Jackson shook his head. "Not yet." They found it tucked behind the vault. On the desk—a laptop, still open. He plugged in immediately. Files spilled across the screen: movement logs, transaction records, test subjects, enhancement experiments. And then they saw it. "Subject 000 — Raptor." "Subject has demonstrated exponential growth in physical capabilities. Demonstrates full awareness and the will to push further. Requires additional advanced augmentation support to survive further evolution." Alarms burst into noise. "They aren't forcing him," he said, his voice cold. "He's choosing this. He's training to beat us." Ken nodded grimly.