Winds of Change (DxD)

Milt's Soliloquy

— ○ ● ○ —

How much time had slipped away?

I couldn't tell.

Days, months—maybe even years? I didn't know when I first saw those sights or met those people. Memories of my own life had grown vague, slipping through my mind like shadows at dusk. It felt like I hadn't existed at all, until one day, suddenly, I did. And there, right in front of me, stood the one person who meant everything—the current Rank 4 of the Eradicators, Virion Deamonne. His hand reached toward me, and, after a long pause, I took it. That single act tore through whatever life I had known before.

Good or bad, I still can't say, but I remember the day vividly—the words he said to me still clear, as if I'd heard them yesterday.

"Help me create a happy world."

The smile he gave afterward, too, burned into my mind. It shone like no star I'd ever seen, unforgettable, then and now—unchanging, no matter what happened later.

After that day, I threw myself into his cause. Alongside his other subordinates, I worked toward the vision Virion had shared—a world he claimed would one day thrive. We faced countless obstacles and watched some plans fall apart, but in the end, we saw that vision take shape, bit by bit. Or at least, we told ourselves we had.

Yet, somewhere along that path, my memory began to drift, losing its edges. Details grew vague. Virion spoke once about his wife, though I couldn't remember ever meeting her, or the ceremony that bound them.

Later, they had a child—yet I didn't recall the moment of birth or those early years. Somehow, the child simply was, appearing like a piece of his life that had always been there. I felt unsettled by it, but accepted it. If Virion said it was true, then I'd tell myself it was, too.

Others hinted I might feel some envy toward her, but I didn't think so. My attachment to him felt different—familiar, like the ties of those who would take you in when there's no reason to. I owed him for what he'd given me, for what he'd shown me when he extended that hand long ago. That debt was my own to repay, no matter how long it might take or how impossible it might seem.

— ○ ● ○ —

Walking through the city, I found myself wondering—how long had it been here? When had this place first come to life? These questions tugged at me, but I couldn't find any clear answer. It felt as if parts of my memories had been misplaced, leaving only fragments behind, while other parts remained vivid. A strange feeling crept over me, but I tried not to let my thoughts settle too long on it.

"Good morning, General Milt!"

"Would you like some milk?"

"Morning, Miss Milt!"

The people greeted me as I passed. I raised a hand in response, giving them a wave, acknowledging each nod and smile. There was a strange familiarity in the way they called my name, like they'd known me for far longer than they had. I couldn't make sense of it, yet I accepted it as part of the life I now lived.

They looked out for me. They treated me kindly, like someone they trusted, and I returned that trust. There was an attachment here I struggled to name—was it simply because I held the rank of general? Because I served as Virion's right hand? I couldn't say for sure. All I knew was that I needed to protect them, as if keeping them safe wasn't only for my sake but for Virion's as well.

In the distance, cheers rose up—the tournament was already in full swing, even though the morning hadn't gotten too far. Or rather, it was around ten, so maybe it wasn't so early after all.

Now that I thought about it, the companions of the Outer God were competing today. That seemed worth checking out. Without delay, I left my spot, appearing in one of the booths at a battling venue.

My sudden arrival startled a few people nearby. They gave me nervous glances, some murmured greetings, but I raised a hand in acknowledgment, easing their reactions, and together we turned our attention back to the match below.

Down in the arena, a man faced his opponent—a muscular figure, flanked by a lion companion. His name came to mind: Sairaorg. Power emanated from him, a strength that I could feel even at a distance.

It far outstripped my own, yet what truly caught my attention was the familiarity. There was something about him that reminded me of Virion. Something in the way he carried himself, a presence that seemed to mirror Virion's—but also didn't. As if I was looking at a different version of him.

Perhaps the contrast lay in their backgrounds, in whatever paths they'd each taken. Or maybe it was Sairaorg's youth; he seemed close to the Virion I'd once known.

The Virion from… from back when? That thought crept up, unexpected, vague, leaving me wondering where it had come from.

My thoughts scattered as the crowd exploded in cheers.

[Warrior Sairaorg Bael takes down another opponent after wearing them down! This man's unstoppable! He hasn't even called on his familiar in a single fight! Who will step up to challenge his strength?] The announcer's voice surged, feeding the crowd's frenzy.

Sairaorg Bael's laughter rang through the arena as he strode off the field, offering words to his defeated opponent—not pity, but something that seemed to raise their spirits even in loss. His way of fighting, of interacting, didn't leave them crushed; instead, it seemed to ignite something, as if his sheer presence drove them forward. In a way, he was a strange one.

It reminded me of Virion. Though their paths were different, the way they won people over wasn't far apart. Nearly every subordinate under Virion had joined him after being convinced not by mere promises but through his force and drive.

He could charm others, almost as if people had been waiting for someone like him to appear, someone to rally behind. And somehow, people found themselves choosing to follow him

People envied him, feared him, the raw power he commanded, but he'd always been clear on his purpose. He followed what he believed was best for his people, and that belief had kept him moving forward for a long time.

Maybe I envied him for that certainty. Even with the title of general, something felt out of place. It was like I wore the role, but in isolation, like it only existed in my head. I'd give orders, assign tasks, and they'd be carried out without hesitation almost every time.

Yet, sometimes, on that rare tenth time, something happened—usually a visitor to the planet, someone who hadn't seen me in action before. They'd pause, eyes narrowing in that certain way, almost like they were trying to piece something together, as if they saw me as out of place or unfit in some way. It dug at me, even if, in the end, they'd follow through. I was still the general, after all.

I took one last glance at the match beginning below, then disappeared, reappearing in the stands of a different arena. There was someone else here, someone tied to us in the past.

— ○ ● ○ —

I arrived at the other arena, positioning myself on the booth's roof this time, observing the fight unfolding below. It was Anran Wu—the one who had stood by Raerea's side, ranked second among the Eradicators.

She had changed, become something else since I last saw her. She danced through attacks, evading them with ease, then struck back, dropping her opponent in one hit. No one I'd seen could honestly compare to her and Sairaorg Bael.

It wouldn't surprise me if they ended up squaring off in the finals, one facing the other before either of them had the chance to challenge Virion. Then again, if one of the general's own or their followers decided to throw themselves into the ring, things might take a different turn. Though, to be fair, they both could still be keeping their cards close, holding back, and if that were the case, anything I guessed wouldn't hold much weight.

After her victory, she raised her arm to the cheers echoing around the arena. Then, in a brief pause, she turned her head toward me, acknowledging my presence, before she walked away.

I had kept my presence hidden before arriving, but she seemed to sense me all the same. Had her abilities surpassed mine? The thought unsettled me…though it was far from the only thing that had been troubling me recently. Then there was him—the Outer God.

Stories of his role in aiding the Resistance spread everywhere, and their victories grew more frequent. And that wasn't all; wherever he went, something strange followed. Rebellion flared up in occupied planets under Madame Phumera's control, one after another, almost like an ember catching fire.

Whatever his true nature, he stirred something in me that I couldn't ignore. It was like he could peer right into me, past the facade and the half-truths I barely admitted to myself. He seemed to reach beyond what even I knew about myself.

Part of me thought about confronting him directly, asking questions to see what he knew or wanted. But with him defined as our enemy, an enemy of all I served, it seemed impossible.

Yet Virion allowed him and his followers entry here, a decision that blurred everything I thought I understood. I needed to make sense of this—of him, of the pull he had, and the unease it brought.

And with that, I slipped away, hoping the solitude might clear the noise in my head.

— ○ ● ○ —

Xie Qiu's Soliloquy

— ○ ● ○ —

How long had it been since I came into this world? I didn't really know… I couldn't remember that, but I could remember something else—my mother dying. That day felt like it would never end. Everyone around me had cried.

They tried to keep my dad going because he was hurting so much. Losing her seemed to break something inside him, though he eventually found a way to keep going, to live past it, to take care of me.

He tried his best to look strong when he was with me, never showing weakness. But sometimes… I would hear him crying late at night. He'd go to where she rested pretty often, and I'd go with him sometimes.

He'd sit by her grave and tell me stories about her—how they met, things they did, how she'd laugh at his jokes. I liked hearing about her, learning who she was. But there was one thing that kept bothering me, no matter how much time passed.

It was something no one else noticed, something no one mentioned—none of the adults, the people who served in my dad's army, not even my dad himself.

I stopped getting older.

When I turned ten, my body just…stayed the same. Everyone around me kept growing taller, looking older, but I stayed the same size, the same height. On the inside, I kept changing, learning, thinking like someone older. But outside, nothing.

To keep up the act, I had to pretend to be my age. I learned to talk and behave like a kid. It was strange, having to be this version of myself that didn't match up with what was inside. But that's just how things were.

Even after all these years—centuries, really—I hadn't changed. My face, my height, my whole appearance… it was all exactly as it had been since I was ten. Nobody questioned it. People saw me, talked to me, and just accepted it. Even when the Resistance arrived, no one seemed to find it strange. They were curious, sure, but there was only one of them who, I think, looked at me and really saw through the surface. And he just played along.

That person was their current "helper," the one they looked up to and followed, an Outer God. He came across as kind, someone who understood people. I could see why the Resistance chose him as their leader, why they trusted him, even with all the risks they faced. It reminded me of how my dad used to talk about my mom, his voice full of some kind of quiet happiness. It felt like hope.

But there was something else, too. Maybe it was because I'd lived so long, because I'd seen and felt more than anyone around me knew. Or maybe it was because he was like me—someone who seemed to carry an age far beyond his looks.

There was something he held back, something he didn't show the others. It felt familiar, like we both knew what it was like to stay the same on the outside, while inside… well, things weren't the same.

I wanted to talk to him about that. I wanted to let him see the part of me that wasn't stuck pretending to be ten forever. But I didn't know where to start, how to break through all the layers I'd been hiding under for so long.

"Is something wrong, Little Princess?" the attendant asked, watching me closely. Her voice sounded careful, like she didn't want to pry but couldn't help but wonder.

"No... just thinking about when Dad will come back," I said, kicking my legs as I sat on the bench in the middle of the city park.

She nodded and gave me a soft smile, like she wanted to be reassuring. "He'll be back this evening. You don't have to worry."

I already knew that—Dad had told me his plans before he left. But, like always, I had to play the part. That was how it went every day.

Then something broke the routine. Both of us looked up, spotting a figure entering the park. It was him—the one they called the Outer God—Aaron. He glanced around as he walked, his eyes eventually landing on us. As soon as he saw us, he strolled over, raising a hand in a friendly gesture.

"Oh, hello! Fancy meeting you here, Xie Qiu," he greeted with a wide smile. "Out here to have fun?"

The words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I froze. "I-I'm here just... to relax and have fun!" I managed to reply quickly, hoping it sounded casual enough. My attendant nodded in agreement, staying right by my side.

I glanced at her, then took a quick breath. "C-can I talk to him alone for a bit?"

She looked surprised, hesitating like she didn't expect me to ask. After a moment, though, she agreed, saying she'd wait for me by the entrance of the park.

Aaron sat down beside me, turning his eyes up toward the sky, like he was giving me the space to speak. I sat there, collecting my thoughts, feeling a jumble of things I wanted to say. But words didn't come easily. Something in my throat held them back, a strange tension that kept me quiet.

After a moment, he spoke without looking at me, like he already understood. "The best way I've found is to just say everything, even if it comes out messy. Even if it's not perfect or clear, it's real. That's what matters."

His words hit something inside me, a bit too close, almost as if he could see right through all the layers I tried to keep up. It felt like he understood in a way no one else did. I felt a strange tug—a mix of envy and something else, maybe relief.

Taking a shaky breath, I closed my eyes for a second, trying to gather the courage. Finally, I opened them and spoke, each word coming out slowly, almost hesitantly.

"...Mr. Aaron. How would you feel if... someone was... mentally older but stayed physically and... emotionally younger?" I asked, fingers nervously twisting in my lap.

He chuckled, a quiet sound that carried something I couldn't quite place. "Well, I can relate a little. Physically, I look around eighteen, maybe nineteen. But if we're talking about experience... it could be anything from that to millions of years. I might have picked up a few things along the way, though I'm not sure any of it means much. What do you think?"

His words left me uncertain, almost thrown off. Similar? I hadn't expected that. But something about what he said, strange as it was, felt like it reached something deep inside me. I found myself nodding along, feeling a little less alone in whatever this was.

I opened my mouth, feeling a pull to say more. "We…" I started, stopping again as a strange feeling settled over me. "Will you listen?"

He gave a single nod, no words, just that small gesture. His eyes stayed on the sky, but something else caught my attention—a thin, almost invisible dome around us, like he'd placed it there without a sound. It was his way of making sure no one else heard.

"Thank you…" I managed, voice low, almost unsure. "I don't really understand... I don't know how I came to be, or when things started feeling strange. But there are these memories—flashes, pieces—that don't belong to me. They're like... pieces of someone else's life."

I turned to him, searching his face for any reaction, but he didn't give anything away. He just sat there, listening, as if he'd heard things like this before.

So I kept going, trying to get the words out right. "I've given these big speeches, like I'm helping… someone, and I'm there, listening to them cry on my shoulder. They're older than me, I think, but somehow, I'm old too… even though, here, I'm still young."

I clenched my hands, feeling this tired feeling grow inside. "When I try to bring these memories up, like, to understand them, it's weird. I end up falling asleep, or I just... drift away somewhere, and hours pass, like they were nothing. Then, after that, I won't remember any of it for days. Then, out of nowhere, it all comes back again. It drives me crazy."

I could feel my voice getting shaky. "I've lived… well, it feels like I've been alive a long time. But I haven't changed, not in how I look. And it's like my brain and how I feel are just... stuck. No matter how much I try to learn, how much I study, I can't get past this wall. It's like something's holding me down. When I tell my dad, or anyone else… it's like they don't even hear me. They just move on, like I didn't even speak."

I felt my face get hot, my eyes starting to sting, the tears almost slipping out.

I felt his hand land on my head, a warm touch brushing over me. It felt strange, like some heavy cloud had lifted, and somehow, the tears just stopped.

"It's not easy to say something like this," he said, his voice calm. "Even if you've tried a few times, and they ignored you. It can make you feel alone, can't it?" He waited, watching me. I nodded.

He paused, as if considering his next words. "What do you think of Milt?"

Milt? Dad's general, the one who's by his side all the time? The question threw me off, and I tried to figure out why he'd bring her up now. I thought back, going through every memory I had of her… and honestly, it all seemed ordinary. She was always there, always around, but nothing really stood out.

"She's important to my dad," I said, trying to make sense of it. "And she… well, she's helped look after me, too. Why do you ask?"

"I think," he began, looking back up, "that finding answers needs a guide. Leaving you to figure everything out alone is unfair. So, I'll help. If you want to know more about your past, you need to start by talking to Milt. You'll need to know more about her."

"…About Milt? Why…?" I asked, still trying to understand.

He shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly. "She's tied to you, to your past, and to Virion. My team will work to uncover more, but this part, this first step, is yours. Can you handle it?"

I let his words sink in. It was... something—a direction, maybe. Without thinking too much, I nodded eagerly, feeling my head bob up and down as his lips turned up a bit, like he found it funny.

"Alright. Good luck with it, Xie Qiu. If you ever need me, just say my name, and I'll come." He let the barrier around us drop, stood up, and walked away.

I tried to call out, to say thanks for the clue, but before I got the words out, he was gone. He'd dropped a big piece of my past right in front of me, but I still didn't have the whole picture. Questions filled my head faster than I could make sense of them.

Did Milt know something about it? Or was she in the dark, too? I needed answers, but I knew I couldn't ask just anyone. They'd probably brush it off, just like every other time. I got to my feet and slapped my cheeks, getting myself ready.

"Let's do this!" I said under my breath as my attendant came back my way.

— ○ ● ○ —

Aoife Murphy's Soliloquy

— ○ ● ○ —

We had our assignments, all of us, with no question what had to happen next. After the meeting wrapped, we scattered back to the teams we'd been with before. I joined the others, and beside me was Ling Feng and Kuisha, walking along. She looked like herself again, somehow more at ease, as if brushing against death in that trial had lit a fire in her. She wanted to dig for the truth as much as we did.

First task on the list: find that spot again, where the guardian waited, and see where things led after that. For now, we trailed through the familiar forest, moving closer to where that place waited.

"How did…dying feel?" I asked, turning my head to her. "I'm sorry if it's too much, don't feel like you have to say anything."

Ling Feng shook her head, signaling it was okay. "No, I don't mind. I didn't exactly die—well, I did, but not like you'd think. It was more like being thrown out of the trial. I ended up waiting with Ekibo and someone who called herself Cúntóir."

"That makes sense," Kuisha said, walking at my other side. "It'd be strange if you actually died in there, you'd probably be gone for real too. But I don't remember Ekibo saying anything about us dying for real in the trial. Guess the fact you're here shows it doesn't work that way."

"A trial's still just a trial," I replied, forcing a smile, trying to lighten things up.

"Not always," Ling Feng cut in, not letting it slide. "Some trials in our universe actually do end you. I didn't expect to be alive after that, so you're not exactly right, Aoife."

I let out a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of my head, feeling a bit deflated.

"That so? Well, then…lucky you made it!" I replied, determined to keep things positive. Ling Feng's face softened at that, a small smile breaking through as we kept walking down that old path.

Before long, we reached that place again. It hadn't changed—still had that striking, almost royal look to it. Ekibo, posted as ever, didn't seem to have budged. The moment he saw us, his eyes fixed on us, no warmth in his stare.

[You have returned, friends of the Outer One. Do you seek to take the trial again?] Ekibo's voice, like a low, unchanging rumble, came from where he sat, a guardian in the form of a lion, white and gold.

I shook my head. "You didn't really say this last time, but…we're curious. If we die in one of those trials, do we actually die out here, too? I mean, Ling Feng is still here after dying, but…"

Ekibo closed his eyes, pausing as if searching for the words, then opened them again. [It depends on the type of trial. However, true death is not part of it…instead, one's lifespan shortens,] he explained, his gaze landing on Ling Feng. [Your kind is unusual, living to around 8,900 years. Because of your death, you've lost 80 years.]

Ling Feng lowered her head. Shame seemed to settle over her, though I didn't quite know why. I'd thought she was just like us, one of this world's species—but clearly, I'd been wrong about that.

"What about me or Kuisha?" I asked, pointing first at myself, then at Kuisha standing just beside me.

Ekibo stared at us, a silent study that stretched for a few beats before he finally shook his head. [That would be an unlikely event. But…if it were to happen, I cannot say. Your bodies—especially yours, Aoife—have…peculiar qualities,] he said, his face creased.

That answer hit harder than I'd expected. I knew Aaron had done something special to me, had crafted me with something different, so I figured some sort of unusual response might come up. But…to hear this applied to Kuisha, too. I glanced over, catching her expression, eyes wide, a mirror of my own shock.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Kuisha pressed, refusing to let it go. "As far as I know, Aaron hasn't made any changes to my body. Not like Aoife."

[I do not know,] Ekibo replied simply, as if that resolved everything. He closed his eyes again, shutting down any path toward a further answer.

"Well…that's all, I guess. We've got other things on our list. Thanks!" I said, throwing Ekibo a brief nod before turning to the left and heading off, not slowing to see if they'd catch up.

Ling Feng and Kuisha hesitated, their footsteps holding back, as if Ekibo had left something unsaid that they wanted to probe deeper into. But they didn't argue and, in the end, followed after me.

They must've sensed, as I did, that there wasn't time to press him further. Our purpose here mattered more, and whatever Ekibo had left unsaid wouldn't change that we needed to find that spot. Maybe we'd see signs of the Saerstial—or maybe we'd come up empty-handed. Either way, we had to check.

After walking on for some time, we reached it—the Area of Passing. The place held an eerie silence, heavier somehow than the version we'd seen in the trial, as if something waited just beyond our sight. It looked the same—same layout and design as before, but now, in reality, it felt more than a stage for the test we'd endured.

I glanced at Ling Feng, and in her stance I could tell she felt the same unease. We had no idea what might happen if we stepped into that area again. The previous version we'd crossed was in some alternate, constructed space—a universe of its own rules, separate from this reality. So, maybe the Saerstial wouldn't even show here, maybe everything there had been a mere imitation.

We crossed the lake Kuisha mentioned, its surface smooth and reflective, and ahead, just like in the trial, stood the staircase in white, reaching up from the distance.

Curtains lined the edges of the lake, flowing as if caught in a wind that wasn't there, each movement soft and entrancing. At the top of the stairs sat a golden lotus in full bloom, its petals open and vibrant. Smaller lotuses flanked the sides, forming a pathway toward the main one.

Reaching the base, we stepped onto the first stair, but it didn't feel quite like Kuisha described. The stairs responded beneath us, each footfall bringing a distinct note, as if the steps themselves created some sort of melody, their sounds following each move we made. We continued up, each step producing another tone, the strange music filling the silence until we arrived at the top.

There, in front of us, stood the golden lotus—the same one used to enter the authentic Area of Passing. Its presence signaled we'd reached a new threshold, the point before things could truly begin. I turned to Ling Feng and Kuisha, checking if they were prepared.

"Ready? We could head back if you need anything else. Supplies, maybe?" I asked, trying to keep things open, even though I knew what their answer would likely be.

"No, let's just go," Ling Feng replied. Her expression showed she was more than ready to face whatever lay ahead, if it meant meeting the Saerstial here.

Kuisha gave her own nod, her expression matching Ling Feng's. "Yeah. We don't need to wait around."

"Alright, let's do it!" I said, my hand pressing against the lotus, letting the strange power it held take hold.

— ○ ● ○ —

The place we ended up at was...something. It matched what Kuisha had described, sure, but I hadn't seen it myself before now. There was this strange mix, like an overdone chapel you'd expect for a wedding, but also something heavy, like a place you'd go to say goodbye to someone. I guessed it was some kind of burial ground?

"Area of Passing" didn't exactly spell it out, after all.

"It's not here," Kuisha muttered, her brows pulling together.

"It's not?" I looked where she was staring, but all I saw was the usual raised platform you'd find in a church, where some priest would stand during a service.

She pointed further on. "That's where it was when we got here in the trial. But…not now. I can't sense anything like the energy it had back then," she said, her voice dropping lower.

Ling Feng gave a nod. "Yeah, I'd remember that feeling too. It killed me once. But now? Just the regular Area of Passing, nothing strange or out of place."

We wandered through the place, taking it in piece by piece. The rows of benches looked like those in ordinary churches, only instead of wood, each one was crafted from pure marble, polished enough to catch the faint light in here. Overhead, bells hung by thin silver ribbons, spaced out across the ceiling, but the strange part was that they didn't make a sound.

The whole place felt too silent, like the air itself refused to stir. With everything around us—the ribbons, the bells, the weird openness of the place—I expected at least a whisper of air, something to set the bells ringing. But nothing moved; it was dead still. I couldn't shake the question about who might've built this place in the first place, but…

"Hey, what's this?" Ling Feng's voice broke the quiet as she reached down, picking up what looked like a book—or maybe a tome?

The three of us gathered around, peering down at the thing in her hands, wondering just what kind of artifact we'd stumbled upon. Then, without warning, it yanked itself out of her grip, hung there in the air, floating right in front of us. It pulsed a warm golden glow for a few seconds, bright enough that it almost made us flinch, before it shot straight up toward the ceiling and vanished entirely.

"What just happened?" I asked, thrown off by the whole thing.

Kuisha gave a little shrug, pulling out her device. "I managed to catch it all on video. We'll show Aaron or Cúntóir later," she said, surprising us all.

"Alright! Let's keep searching a bit more, then head out to the next spot," I said, and they nodded, each of us giving the place one last scan.

We spread out, checking the corners and edges of the room, hoping for something we'd overlooked. There wasn't much—just bits of debris scattered around, like it'd been left alone for some time.

Not so long that the whole area had fallen apart, but definitely untouched enough that it felt abandoned in a way.

After about fifteen minutes, we decided we'd seen all there was to see. I turned to them, a thought suddenly clicking in my mind. "Wait…so, how exactly do we leave? Didn't you say that, once you defeated it, you got kicked out of the trial?" I asked, glancing between the two of them, waiting for some answer.

Kuisha thought it over, then shook her head. "I can't be sure, but I'd bet we just go back to the spot where we were brought in," she said, already heading in that direction without another word.

Before Ling Feng or I could respond, she disappeared right in front of us. We both exchanged a quick, wide-eyed look, then rushed to catch up, each of us practically tripping over our own feet to follow her out.

I glanced back once, just to see the place one last time, and in that split second, I caught a strange shape, just there, for the briefest instant—then, before I even had time to react, I felt the strange pull of teleportation pulling me away.

— ○ ● ○ —

Aaron Toole's Soliloquy

— ○ ● ○ —

I walked alone down the city streets, the noise of bustling life fading into the background as I checked in on everyone else through my powers. They were fine, everything seemed to be running smoothly with them, but my thoughts were already elsewhere. I had plans, and soon enough, I would be rejoining Kuroka and Shirone.

I'd sent them to another part of the planet, giving them the freedom to travel at their own pace. Bai Di Cheng, that's where the "White Tiger" of this world resided. It was in the western part of the planet. I'd given them a head start, not because I couldn't catch up, but because they wanted to take in the sights of the world on their way there instead of just teleporting. I understood that.

After all, this world—despite the strange and unsettling things that seemed to occur—had its own beauty. It was worth the experience.

I came across a food stand. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I knew Kuroka and Shirone would be by the time I caught up with them. I bought a lot of food, more than I needed, and stored it in my [Inventory]. I handed the vendor a generous amount of money, more than was probably necessary, before continuing on my way.

The general in Bai Di Cheng was named Galen. His name wasn't exactly in line with the usual naming conventions of this planet, but it didn't really matter to me. He was powerful, no doubt about that. Though, I would say his strength didn't compare to the White Tiger of our world, nor was it anywhere near the power Byakko had. Still, he had his own strength, one I would have to keep in mind when I reached him.

The streets stretched before me, bustling with life as I walked. Duplicating some of the food I had stored, I ate as I moved, letting the motions of the city guide me. But then, something unexpected caught my eye—Milt. She stood off to the side, a distant expression on her face, her mind clearly elsewhere. 

"Milt? You okay?" I called, stepping closer to her. 

Startled, she stumbled, her feet not quite catching up to her thoughts. Reaching out, I caught her before she could fall. Flustered, she quickly stood back up and cleared her throat, the moment of confusion passing. She coughed into her fist, trying to recover. 

"I... I'm fine. Apologies for that," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes briefly scanned me. "What brings you here, Aaron?" 

Offering her some of the food, she shook her head, declining without a word. 

"Just spending some time here before heading to Bai Di Cheng. Sent Kuroka and Shirone ahead," came my reply. 

Milt's arms crossed as she nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Galen's there, one of the generals. But... he's a bit of a battle maniac," she said, her tone turning cautious. "Be ready. He might want to fight one of you. Or all of you, for that matter." 

Her warning hung in the air as we walked together, the city's sounds faint against her words. The information was useful, though not surprising. Galen's reputation wasn't unknown to me. Still, it was good to hear it from someone who knew the area.

I chuckled at Milt's words. "Well, he won't be the first battle maniac I'll run into, so I'm used to it. No, we're all used to it," I said, the smile spreading across my face. She laughed softly at that, her expression lightening a bit.

As we continued walking, we reached a small square. The area was bustling with vendors, their stalls filled with various goods. A fountain stood in the center, the water gently cascading down, adding a soft sound to the mix of voices and footsteps around us.

People wandered in and out of the square, some stopping to browse, others just passing through. Nearby, kids ran around the park, playing and laughing. The scene was calm, almost idyllic, and for a moment, I couldn't help but marvel at it all. It was peaceful, tranquil in a way that felt like it belonged in another world entirely.

For a brief moment, I let myself think that maybe Virion's vision of peace had actually come to life here. The world seemed to have settled, people moving without fear, enjoying the little things in life. But then, the thought of Phumera and her organization crept back into my mind. Beneath the calm, they were still there, still pulling the strings, holding everyone under their control.

Milt must have noticed the change in my demeanor because she spoke again, her voice quieter this time. "Are you thinking about the peace Virion brought and Phumera's control?" 

"Yeah," I answered, my voice flat. I didn't try to hide it. "I know there's good things about it, sure. But there's still a lot of bad, too."

Milt nodded, a quiet acceptance in her movements, and spoke, "I get it. There are plenty of downsides, but still, people find joy in it. For a long time now, they have. Even with her... we've made it work. We've found a way to be happy with our lives."

"But will it stay? What if she decides one day to drag you all into a war in some other universe? Or what if she gets fed up with Virion and his ways and everything changes because of that?" I pressed, my eyes fixed on her. "Does your opinion still hold up, even with all that hanging over you?"

She paused, quiet for a while, her mind clearly turning over my words. It wasn't immediate, but after a few moments, she shook her head.

"I don't know," she said, her voice low, uncertain. "I know what you're saying has some truth. But... maybe it's better to just ignore it, to live in the dream. To stay in the fantasy, even if it's not real. A lot of people would choose that, wouldn't they? To stay in an ideal world, instead of facing the hard truth... It's easier that way." Her words trailed off, soft and heavy, like she wasn't even sure if she was talking to me or herself at that point.

"It's better to face a harsh reality than live forever in a dream built on lies," I said, my voice firm. "Facing the truth, no matter how difficult, and growing because of it—that's what matters. Running from it only makes things worse. People, and entire worlds, will always have to face reality, sooner or later."

I stood up, brushing off the dirt from my clothes, preparing to leave. "Anyway, I've got to head out. Can't leave those two waiting around too long. Just think about what I said, alright? It could help you with your past, your memories—who you really are."

With that, I vanished from the spot, leaving Milt behind. She stood there, her expression a mixture of confusion and alertness, no doubt trying to make sense of everything.

What she chose after this, that was on her. The responsibility was hers to carry. I could only hope she made the right decision. So much of the planet's future was tied to her and Xie Qiu, and I knew that their actions would set the course for everything that came after.

— ○ ● ○ —

"Hey," I called out, arriving where Shirone and Kuroka were.

"Nyaaaaaaaaaaaa!?" Kuroka yelped, leaping onto a branch, clearly startled by my sudden appearance.

Shirone snickered, her laughter quickly turning into full-blown amusement at her sister's reaction. Kuroka's face flushed, red as she jumped back down. She marched over to me, swatting at my chest with her hands, muttering "nya" over and over, too embarrassed to form proper words.

Her hits were soft, but she didn't seem to care. It was as if trying to chase away the awkwardness. Shirone laughed harder, enjoying the moment.

After a while, Kuroka finally stopped. She crossed her arms, about to say something—probably to scold me—when I pulled out some food from my [Inventory].

Her expression softened, and she snatched some before Shirone could. They both ate without another word, Kuroka clearly forgetting her irritation for the time being.

Looking around, I realized we were on a road, the path marked with signs and faint tracks. "We're about thirty minutes from Bai Di Cheng. What were you two doing out here?" I asked, keeping my tone casual.

"We took our time," Shirone began, her voice calm as she spoke. "Saw a lot of things, some structures, some creatures. We killed a few, but hesitated to eat them. Decided not to and kept moving. On the boring parts of the journey, we picked up the pace. Then we came across some fish here. We were about to catch them until you showed up."

She pointed to a small lake to our left. The water shimmered under the light, and I could see countless fish and other creatures swimming just beneath the surface. The energy around them pulsed with power. They wouldn't be easy to catch.

"Well, since you've already eaten," I said, taking a glance at her, "let's head to the city. There's food there too, if that's not enough for you."

I started walking, and both of them quickly caught up, matching my pace without a word.

Not long after, we reached a small cliffside. We stopped and looked down at the city. It stretched out below us, sprawling and busy, framed by mountains. The sight felt like something out of a painting—a scene so well-formed, it almost didn't seem real.

Shirone's voice broke the silence, her eyes still fixed on the view. "You could literally call it 'Chinese' if you wanted to, right?" she asked, her words drifting between us as she took in the landscape.

I let out a small laugh at her choice of words, finding myself agreeing, though the idea of just calling it "Chinese" felt a bit strange—maybe even a touch ignorant? Hard to say. Still, the architecture's style here clearly brought that particular region to mind. The designs, the carvings—it all gave the feeling of ancient, Asian-influenced craftsmanship, intentional or not.

"Well, let's not waste any more time—" I began, but suddenly, something slammed down in front of us with a force that kicked up a wall of dust.

When the dust settled, we got a look at the figure standing before us. It was an old man, his appearance striking: long, white hair that framed his lined face, and a beard with streaks of purple blending into its white. His attire stood out—black and gold, tailored in a style that leaned toward something noble, yet unfamiliar, suggesting he was anything but an ordinary local.

His name, Galen, came to mind, and it fit, but everything about him—the clothes, the way he stood—seemed almost imported from another world. He didn't dress like anyone on this planet. The vibe he carried, the city he was said to rule, all felt out of place here.

I caught myself wondering if this impression was a stereotype on my part, but there was no denying his power. It was obvious, even at a glance.

If I had to estimate, his energy felt somewhere around Middle-tier God-class, even in a state of calm. If he unleashed his full strength, it seemed fair to think he could rival Shiva himself from our world, at least in terms of raw force.

Kuroka tilted her head, looking at him. "Who are you, nya?" She took another bite, barely pausing to speak.

Shirone stepped in, sizing him up. "I think it's safe to assume…you're the general of this area—Galen, right?" Her tone made it clear she wasn't asking lightly.

The man nodded, brushing a hand over his beard as he answered. "Correct, I am Galen." He paused, studying each of us carefully before nodding again. "Your appearance matches what Lord Virion described. He informed me of the God from the Resistance visiting this planet, and you look exactly as he mentioned. Follow me."

Kuroka raised an eyebrow, even more bewildered now. "Huh? Follow? To where?"

He chuckled, the sound rough but amused. "Surely you're aware that I enjoy a good fight, aren't you? I'd like to test you. So, come along." With that, he launched himself into the distance, already expecting us to follow.

We exchanged looks, realizing what this might entail. The rumors we'd heard of him—a man who thrived on combat, who saw battles as an art in itself—suddenly seemed to line up. So, with no more hesitation, we decided to go along, understanding that this challenge might reveal far more than we'd expected.

— ○ ● ○ —

The area we arrived at stretched north of Bai Di Cheng, set on a mountain with jagged, rocky terrain all around. This particular spot, though, was leveled out, its surface smooth and flattened, likely by Galen himself. The marks of such work were clear; only someone with significant power could mold a place like this in the middle of such rough surroundings.

Galen walked a few steps ahead, then paused, glancing back to size us up once more. "Alright," he started, his tone unreadable. "Which one of you wants to step up first?"

Kuroka stepped forward without hesitation, barely looking bothered. "I'll go," she said casually, as if she'd just been asked to run a quick errand. "Might as well get this done with. Besides, I've still got food waiting." She added as an afterthought, "Hey, after this, think you can show us where to find a good spot to eat?"

That got a genuine laugh from Galen. He seemed amused, nodding his agreement. "Very well! It seems you have a real appetite. So, what kind of place are you thinking of? Or does the price not even matter?"

Kuroka threw her shoulders back, hands on her hips, grinning. "Price doesn't matter!" she replied, her confidence clear.

Galen gave a quick nod, an amused grin stretching across his face. "Alright then. Let's get this sparring match underway. No rules, aside from no killing. If one of us yields, it's over." Kuroka gave a firm nod in agreement.

"I'll be the arbiter, then," I offered, and they both accepted without much reaction. Holding my position, I looked between them, waiting. After a beat, I called, "Are fighters ready? Begin!"

Galen launched forward, his form blazing with a thick, emerald energy that coated him from head to toe. His arm swung toward Kuroka in a wide arc. But she stood her ground, almost playful, catching his strike with an effortless motion, as though she'd expected it.

The impact of Galen's strike echoed out, breaking apart the ground beneath them and sending cracks rippling outward across the rocky surface, even shaking the mountains in our vicinity. But Kuroka barely moved. She held his gaze, a smirk spreading across her face. Galen's expression tightened, surprise flickering across his face before he broke away, moving back to where he'd originally stood.

Kuroka exhaled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face before vanishing. A moment later, she appeared beside Galen, her fist already aimed and infused with touki, zeroing in on his head without hesitation.

Galen responded quickly, gathering energy around his arms to block Kuroka's punch. Judging by his expression, he must have thought she was giving it her all. Yet, the energy shield he created shattered on impact.

Kuroka's fist struck his crossed arms, which he'd positioned defensively, only to hear the crunch of bone just before the force sent him flying backward. She was relentless. In the blink of an eye, she reappeared where he'd been thrown and struck him again, giving him no moment to regain control or defend himself.

Like a ragdoll, Galen was tossed around the sky as Kuroka hit him repeatedly. Her blows left him no opening to recover, each strike pushing him further back. Finally, she drove her fist into his stomach, sending him plummeting to the ground, where his impact carved a massive crater. He lay there, unmoving.

Landing lightly, Kuroka strolled over to his still form. We approached as well, taking in the damage she'd inflicted—Galen lay battered and thoroughly defeated, the extent of her power written in the cracks and bruises across his body.

"You held back, didn't you?" I asked, looking at Kuroka, who responded with a nervous chuckle.

"Nya—I hope so… I was hitting him as gently as possible," she replied, scratching the back of her head like she couldn't believe it herself.

Beside me, Shirone sighed. "We need to wake him up… Aaron, can you heal him?"

I laughed, agreeing, and threw a small ball of slime in Galen's direction. It hit him, and immediately his injuries began to vanish, his strength returning all at once. In an instant, his eyes opened, and he sprang up, wide-eyed, scanning his surroundings as if he'd just been pulled from a dream.

"You lost. Welcome back to the land of the living," I said to him.

Galen stared at me, then at Kuroka, and let out a deep breath. "That wasn't a sparring match—that was a one-sided beating. I didn't even get the chance to go all out," he admitted, dipping his head in a slight bow, as if the loss had taken him by surprise.

"Alright then, shall we talk?" I asked, not breaking my stare.

Galen nodded, his eyes still sharp. "If one of your companions can fight at that level, I can only imagine what you're capable of. So, how about we discuss this over food at a spot I visit often? Small place, quiet—no interruptions, guaranteed."

Trusting what I sensed through my powers, I saw no lie in his offer. "Fine, you lead the way," I replied, snapping my fingers to restore the land, every bit of destruction from the battle erased as if it never happened.

Galen's eyes swept over the scene, barely hiding a sense of awe. He muttered under his breath, "Unbelievable… Anyway, this way!"

— ○ ● ○ —

The area we entered felt unusual, different from the usual bustling parts of the city. It was tucked into a quieter section, away from the main roads and livelier streets. Inside, only one customer remained, already finishing up and passing us on his way out.

"Ah! Lord Galen! Here for the usual, I assume? And, hmm…some fresh faces with you?" the man called out, his gaze drifting over our group.

"Yes, indeed," Galen replied with a light laugh. "Today, I have guests joining me, so let's have your best dishes—and make the portions generous. I suspect we're all ready to eat."

The man chuckled, nodding as he turned toward the kitchen to begin preparing the order. Galen led us to a spot in the corner, and we settled in at the table. Kuroka and Shirone took the seats across from him, while I sat beside Galen on his right. After a moment of quiet, he looked up, gathering his thoughts before speaking to us.

"All the generals received Zhao Quan's invitation to a coup, to topple Virion and steer the planets as Madame Phumera would approve," he explained, pausing. "I don't know where he got the idea, but out of the eight of us—if we take Zhao Quan out of the picture—the other seven are divided. Four stand with him, I'm uncertain, and two have made it clear they oppose him."

He glanced back at the store's doors before continuing. "Zhao Quan sent a messenger, tried to sway me, but I said I'd think it over. I can't say when this coup will begin, but I've got a bad feeling about it. I'd guess he's timing it to hit during the finals of the tournament."

"He'll make use of the chaos from that, right?" Shirone asked, her eyes fixed on him. "Or wait until Virion's in the middle of his match against the winner—then make his move. But how would he pull that off if Virion's in the ring, fighting?"

"They likely have something over him, some threat he can't ignore, so for now, he'll probably go along with it," I said. "The first things that come to mind? Maybe they're threatening an entire group, his home planet, or his daughter."

Shirone nodded slowly. "That would add up. But…shouldn't we do something to keep her safe then? Xie Qiu's just a kid and honestly, she still comes off as pretty vulnerable. I don't see her standing up to anyone, let alone being able to fight back."

He agreed, his face hardening. "I feel the same. I've watched her often; she's Virion's only daughter, and I admit, I've grown attached to her myself. She's not just his daughter; she's the princess of our people. If anything were to happen to her, it would stir anger in every corner of our world."

His words took me back to my own daughter, the one I had recently taken in, the one I had come to love as my own. The thought of someone harming Vivi that way…it riled something in me I couldn't fully put into words, words I knew I'd wish I'd never thought.

"So, what exactly do you want from us here? We're already working alongside Huoshen Renqing on something else. She's one of those against Zhao Quan's plan, right? Judging by what we know so far, I'd bet Milt is the other one who's opposed. That leaves most of the others as possible candidates for Zhao's side, assuming you haven't already picked one," I said, fixing my eyes on him.

"Nya~ or maybe it's more like, nya~ which side are you on, nya~?" Kuroka threw out lazily, stretching out on her seat without a care.

Shirone chimed in with a single nod, keeping her eyes locked on him. "Because depending on your answer, we'd have no choice but to detain you if you're siding with Zhao Quan. But, if you're not, then we're good to work together. And don't bother lying—Aaron here is basically a human lie detector," she added, staring him down, not a blink in sight.

"Beep," I added, playing along. Shirone shot me a look that held no amusement, to which I let out a laugh.

Galen stayed quiet, caught in some private deliberation, his face giving nothing away. Shirone, however, didn't look away, her expression firm, not letting even the smallest hint of impatience slip through.

Kuroka lay sprawled across the seats, barely paying attention, her eyes closed as she practically drooled at the rich scents drifting through the room.

After what felt like an endless stretch of silence, Galen finally spoke, his expression set in a serious way as he said, "I've got no real desire to get myself killed going up against your group. At the same time, I don't see any reason to throw my lot in with a coup. I'm content with how things are. So, I'll stay out of it—I'll oppose Zhao's plans."

Shirone nodded, acknowledging his response with a simple tilt of her head. "Good. But let's eat before we dive any deeper into this. I think the food's finally done," she said, her cat ears flicking up, reacting instantly to the aroma filling the room. Kuroka's eyes snapped open at the same moment, the smell clearly pulling her from her lazy stupor, now fully awake, her expression lit with anticipation.

Galen gave his assent, and soon the man from earlier came over, delivering generous servings to each of us. Though he'd hinted that the larger portions were only for Kuroka and Shirone, I ended up with an equally substantial serving. It surprised me, but I wasn't complaining.

"Alright then, dig in!" he said, motioning toward the spread before diving into his own meal.

I scanned each dish, giving the spread a quick once-over. No poisons, no hidden tricks. With that settled, I took a bite, prompting the two nekomatas beside me to start too. They were all-in right away, practically inhaling their portions. The chef-owner's jaw dropped at the sight, clearly not expecting Shirone and Kuroka to devour the food with that kind of zeal.

Catching his reaction, I looked over at him. "I'll cover the tab," I said plainly, "so go ahead and get two more helpings ready for them." He stared at me for a second, blinking in surprise, before nodding in agreement.

I called up two full bags of the local currency, tossing them to him without a second thought. He caught them, fumbled a bit, then peeked inside—his eyes going wide at the sight. He started stammering, his shock only growing as he realized how much he was holding.

"Take it all. Actually, make it three more servings," I said, chuckling as the man practically scrambled back to the kitchen.

"Right away, sir! And thank you!" he called out, his voice barely catching up to his legs.

"You're loaded," Galen muttered, eyes still wide at the pile of money I'd handed over.

"Money's simple. I can make as much as I need, and it greases the wheels of this place," I replied. "I'm not out here to mess up entire economies with it, just helping folks like that one out there." Galen's lips curved at that, impressed but trying not to show it.

We watched as Shirone and Kuroka stayed locked onto their plates, almost like they were in some food trance. Their extra rounds arrived as the hour went on, and they tore through them just the same. By then, Galen could only look on, speechless at the sight of what had to be the hungriest nekomatas he'd ever seen.

I wondered if he'd just flat-out pass out if he ever ran into Shigune and the Three MuskaPohs in action.

— ○ ● ○ —

After we finished, we asked the owner to give us a moment. He understood right away and hung a sign by the entrance, making sure no one wandered in. With the place cleared out, it was finally time to get down to business.

"So, what's on your mind, nya~?" Kuroka asked, patting her stomach, clearly satisfied after the meal.

Shirone sat beside her, nodding. Even though I already knew most of what they'd say, I wanted the full details straight from them. Leaning back, I let them explain.

"The ones driving this coup are General Chengxi, Kaiyang, Liora, and Beiyin, all in alliance with Zhao Quan. The exact location of their meetings isn't known, but they're keeping it within Zhao Quan's territory, up near the North-West, centered around Daoluken. That's a mega-city, the most developed area on the planet, packed with advanced technology Zhao Quan's obtained from travelers who've visited. He's even got experimental tech from Madame Elanor backing his forces there," he said, his tone holding nothing back.

"Elanor again," I muttered, narrowing my focus. Taking her down was inevitable, but I knew the timing had to be just right. Leaving her alive a little longer served a purpose; the Eradicators' Rank 1 and others in the Resistance still needed their chance to beat her senseless before I erased her from existence. Her influence and manipulations had turned into a nuisance, one that couldn't stay around much longer.

Even if I "reformed" her, like Avezza and Satanael, Elanor's nature ran too deep, and those habits of hers would only resurface in another twisted way. She wouldn't change, not fully. Ending her once and for all seemed the only solution.

"Yes," Galen replied, "From what I understand, Madame Elanor has her control stretched across nearly every species, faction, and organization, both here and in other realms. She's a calculating genius, a strategist with contingencies that would shock even the most hardened. That one won't go down without a serious fight."

"A smart, hard-to-kill cockroach," Shirone said, fixing her eyes ahead. "Forget about her. Now, what's the deal with Daoluken?"

Galen gave a short nod. "Like I said, it's the most advanced city around. Over there, they've got all sorts of tech that no one else has. They say it's almost impossible to get in unless you're armed with matching tech or have a way to bypass it. On top of that, they've taken our martial arts and energy techniques and merged them with their systems. Zhao Quan calls it something 'new.'"

He kept on, mentioning that he'd only been there a few times for official reasons—never by choice. His visits were brief, each one leaving him with little beyond the surface impressions he shared now.

From what he described, it sounded like the city ran on a strange blend of martial skill and technology, all woven together into something different. Despite all that, he couldn't give us many specifics, just a broad picture.

Finally, Shirone and Kuroka turned to me, expecting answers.

I looked at them and exhaled. "Daoluken. Think martial arts combined with mechs and advanced tech," I said. "But keep in mind, Elanor and her group handed over that tech and left them to figure out the rest on their own. They're still in the early stages with all that equipment."

They nodded, following along as I continued. "Still, don't make the mistake of taking it lightly. Those advanced weapons they've got—they might even rival some high-ranking people in raw power. Now, they won't be much trouble for you, but it's worth keeping on your radar."

Kuroka nodded. "Fine by me. If we can neutralize them before they get the chance, then we're good. So, Daoluken's our next stop?"

"Yeah." I met her eyes, agreeing. "Next stop is Daoluken. There's no reason to hold off on this—we should get there without delay. That said, I doubt Zhao Quan will just throw open the gates for us. With the tournament heading into its final rounds and all these other pieces falling into place, everything's leading us straight to Daoluken, Zhao Quan, and, of course, 'those two.'"

"I'll stay here and make sure Zhao Quan doesn't send any more messengers trying to sway me," Galen said, his attention on the table. "I'll let my people know not to entertain them, not even for a second, and to send them off as soon as they show up. I need to get in touch with Huoshen Renqing and Lady Milt so we can form a plan," he added. "The next few days won't be easy."

Galen stood and straightened, nodding once. "I'm off, then. Good luck with everything you're facing." He turned and made his way out, offering his farewells to the restaurant's owner on his way out.

We rose as well, gave our thanks, and stepped outside into the lively streets. I glanced around and found the usual scene—people everywhere, going about their routines, faces lit with their own lives, each one wrapped up in whatever came next for them.

"So, are we teleporting straight there?" Kuroka asked, perching herself on my head in her cat form, curled up comfortably like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That's the plan—unless either of you has anything to handle here first," I said, catching a look from Shirone, who seemed uncharacteristically focused on the mission now.

"Can we meet back here in five?" she asked. "I want to...check a few things, just me alone."

Her request caught me off guard, but I gave a nod. "Alright. Here in five, then?"

She nodded, then turned and set off, leaving me alone with Kuroka. I glanced up at her, perched on my head, and asked, "What do you think about grabbing some snacks, stock up on food for the trip?"

"Absolutely, nya~. But Shirone's got some fire in her now, huh?" Kuroka answered, and I had to agree.

She was unusually driven, and I couldn't help but wonder what brought it on. Still, I figured she'd let me in on it when she was ready. For now, I set off in the opposite direction, eyes on the stalls and vendors lining the path, checking out what food would make sense for the journey ahead.

— ○ ● ○ —

Shirone Toujou's Soliloquy

— ○ ● ○ —

Back then, I thought martial arts were pointless. Before Aaron came along, I only cared about using the raw strength I had as a [Rook] in the President's peerage, beating down any opponent until they couldn't get back up. Winning by brute force—it was all I thought I'd ever need.

But somewhere, deep down, I must have realized it couldn't carry me forever. I pushed those thoughts away and kept charging forward without a second thought, until the world around us began to change in ways none of us could have expected.

Without telling anyone, I started training in martial arts. I wanted to learn for Aaron, to understand more than just power, especially in a world that seemed to draw from China yet rarely showed much of its ancient disciplines. The styles I'd heard about, or even seen, were few, and the way they were taught felt faded. I couldn't help wondering where they had all gone.

Then, today, I overheard something that made it all click into place: Zhao Quan, this powerful figure, was actively pushing for technology to replace martial arts. He wanted it to fade—not entirely, but just enough so that it could no longer stand on its own. What was left would be something weak, barely a whisper of the strength it once held.

Since my life took this turn, learning martial arts and being shaped by people like Aaron and those from the Chinese pantheon, I can't deny it's left me feeling like I owe it something. You could even say I've come to love martial arts for opening my eyes to things I never thought I'd understand. So, even if I don't feel completely rooted in this world, I want to give something back. Maybe it's small, but it's my way of honoring what martial arts has given me.

I made my way to a food stand, picked up something to eat, and tucked it into my ring. Then, glancing around, I noticed a small bookstore tucked between the buildings. I walked over and slipped inside.

Who knows? Maybe this place had some hidden martial arts manuals, or at least something I could use. With luck, I could learn a few new techniques to use against Zhao Quan, and who knows? Maybe I could even knock some sense into him.

A quote Zhang Mei once told us back when I trained with her came to mind. It was a reminder of why I kept going, no matter where I found myself.

"Martial arts isn't about just throwing punches or being the fastest; it's about having a talk with yourself, a hard look at who you are and who you might end up as. Every punch, every stance, is a question thrown by life, and how you respond to it says everything about who you really are inside. It isn't about beating others down; it's about facing down the parts of you that are stuck in fear or pride. It's about finding a strange calm in the fight, a sense of meaning in every moment, where your spirit and life line up to create something solid that won't break easily."

Hearing those words from Zhang Mei, who's always been a battle fanatic and, honestly, not exactly the sharpest at times—kind of like me—caught me off guard. It reminded me that people are more layered than I might assume, and it's not always obvious. Her words hit me deep, like they were aimed right at something inside I hadn't fully figured out.

Maybe it wasn't just me; maybe it was Aaron, too. He's always wrestling with it, that much is clear to anyone who looks. He holds so much power, yet he fights to keep control over it, resisting the pull to bend the world to his will just because he can.

If I had that kind of power, could I keep myself from doing the same? I wonder if I'd even have the strength to hold back—or if I'd end up shaping everything around me to suit my own idea of how things should be.

Honestly, I doubt it.

— ○ ● ○ —

After several minutes of wandering around, I found myself stopping in front of a small bookshelf tucked away in the back of the store. I reached out, grabbed a book, and flipped through its pages, catching sight of a few techniques here and there. Some were close to what I'd already learned, but the differences were slight enough that I didn't feel they were worth memorizing.

I kept at it for a while, pulling one book after another, glancing over pages filled with stances, maneuvers, and all kinds of technical details. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for, but something made me feel like I'd find something worthwhile if I just kept going.

Still, after a few more rounds of browsing through shelves, I paused. Maybe what I was after wasn't in this store but somewhere else entirely.

I'd told Aaron and my sister I'd meet up with them soon, but this felt important, so I left the shop quickly and looked around for another bookstore nearby. Spotting one close by, I walked in, hoping this time would be different, and repeated my search, moving from one book to the next.

Yet, just like before, I came up empty. No hidden insights, no techniques that stood out, nothing close to what I was hoping to find. It crossed my mind that maybe my instinct had been off, or maybe I was wrong about there being anything here worth finding at all. Whatever the reason...

As I turned to leave, something snagged my attention from the corner of my eye. Reaching out, I grabbed the book that had somehow managed to catch me. When I flipped it open, the pages revealed something different. This wasn't "true" martial arts—it seemed more like a story or maybe a fantastical version of it.

The moves described felt exaggerated, almost like they were meant to entertain more than instruct. But then again, there was something oddly grounded in it. If I asked Aaron or Cúntóir about whether some of these techniques were even possible, maybe they could tell me.

Deciding that was worth a shot, I returned to the clerk, paid, and left the store with a bit more energy than I'd had walking in.

Outside, I found a bench and decided to dive into the book right there. I didn't get far before closing it after around twenty pages, realizing I had promised Aaron and my sister that I'd meet up soon.

With the book tucked under my arm, I started heading back, already picturing how Aaron might react. Knowing him, he'd probably just say something direct, like, "Do you wanna learn it now?" as if it were that simple.

The thought brought a laugh up inside me, but I kept it quiet.

— ○ ● ○ —

"I'm back. Sorry I took so long," I said, catching sight of Aaron and my sister settled on a bench. My sister was nibbling on some snack, while Aaron seemed absorbed in a book.

Aaron lifted his eyes toward me, calm but attentive. My sister gave me a wave mid-bite, not breaking her rhythm. "You're back. Did you find what you were after?" he asked, tucking his book away like he'd just been waiting for the right moment.

I nodded, holding up the book I'd come across. "Yeah. Look at this," I said, passing it over to him.

Aaron took it, eyes already skimming the pages. His fingers moved steadily, flipping one page after another, absorbing what he could as though he'd done it a hundred times before. My sister, Kuroka, barely seemed interested, giving the book only the slightest glance.

After a couple of minutes, Aaron closed the book and looked up. "Thinking of learning what's in here?"

I grinned, a small laugh slipping out. He saw right through me, as usual. I nodded, knowing he understood—learning from this book was exactly what I had in mind.

He beckoned me closer, and I stepped forward, curious but expectant. His finger tapped my forehead, and suddenly, a torrent of knowledge crashed through my mind—every technique from the martial arts in that book now lodged itself within my memory. It was overwhelming at first, but the moves and sequences felt almost natural, settling in like they'd always been there.

As I sorted through it all, I realized I'd need to make adjustments. To fully harness these techniques, they'd need to work in sync with my senjutsu, or more accurately, my touki. I could probably attempt an alternative approach using my demonic power too, but for now, I'd keep my focus on my touki and see where it could take me with this new skillset.

"Let's get moving," I said, watching Aaron get to his feet, my sister following his lead.

He seemed to consider it before responding. "Alright, but we'll keep things slow. We're not exactly welcome there, and they might hold back from jumping us right away," he said. I nodded, agreeing. Charging in recklessly would likely ignite conflict sooner than any of us were ready for.

That plan made sense, and I took my place beside him, bracing myself. Without a hint, he teleported us, the familiar surroundings vanishing in an instant.

— ○ ● ○ —

"Woah," Kuroka muttered as we landed on the cliff's edge, staring down at the sprawl of Daoluken below.

The city spread wide, filled with buildings rising high, each a mix of old and new—traditional Chinese architecture meeting futuristic designs that looked straight out of a sci-fi movie. But what grabbed our attention was one particular structure standing apart in the distance.

Unlike the others, this one leaned into its ancient style, like an enormous temple glowing in gold and purple. It seemed to almost pulse in its own light, bold and defiant against the city's duller skyline. Other pockets of color dotted the city too, though I couldn't say what they were from up here.

"They're shield generators," Aaron said, breaking the silence, pointing toward various spots around the city. "See them around?"

I squinted, catching a faint glow, barely noticeable, stretching over the city like a subtle protective layer. Kirino had mentioned something similar back in Hishudu—its own version shielded the city there, mostly from the bitter cold.

"So, they're all set for a big clash, right?" Kuroka asked, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at Aaron, her earlier lightness gone as she tossed her food wrapper aside. "But is that shield actually going to hold up? I mean, we could tear through it, sure, but what about the others? Milt, Huoshen Renqing, or even Virion?"

Aaron studied the city with a blank look. "For us? It's easy work. Milt and Huoshen Renqing could definitely crack it, but they'd have to put in effort. Virion, though, would have no problem smashing it apart. The shield rebuilds itself almost instantly when it's running at full capacity, so that's the real challenge."

"So… are we going in loud?" Kuroka asked, clearly ignoring everything we'd discussed.

"No, not yet. Let's start by going in like we're any other visitors. Keep in mind they'll be watching us closely the whole time," he answered, and we started moving down from our spot on the cliff, slipping quietly into the edge of the city, where we'd be far from unobserved.

— ○ ● ○ —

We reached the entrance quickly, spotting a line of hovering vehicles idling nearby. The foot traffic had its own line, and we joined it without delay. The queue moved steadily until we found ourselves at the front, where a guard gave us a once-over, his expression shifting as he recognized something—or someone.

He spoke into his radio in a low voice, murmuring into the device for about two minutes before he allowed us through, giving us a wary, searching look that lingered even as he turned away.

Once inside, the sight hit me hard. Structures rose high above us, layers of buildings and platforms stacking upward. Trees sprouted from platforms and rooftops, a strange mix of organic shapes and metal frames, giving the place a look that felt wrong, almost disturbing.

It was as if nature and machinery had merged in a way that refused to choose one side. I couldn't tell if I should marvel at it or be uncomfortable.

'This is what they're calling the future?' I thought, feeling a strange chill at the sight.

"Dystopian," Kuroka muttered under her breath, and by the look on her face, I knew she saw the same twisted vision of progress that I did.

Aaron kept his face blank, though a faint frown formed for a moment. It vanished quickly, but by then, the stares had already started. People turned to watch us pass, the kind of attention that made my skin prickle. Their focus felt almost suffocating as we moved deeper into the city's streets.

The surroundings didn't look too different from the pictures I'd seen of China, but everything felt like it had been yanked years ahead. It had the unmistakable futuristic touch—swords hovering through the air with people standing on them, energy and flames sputtering from their bases like jet engines.

I couldn't decide if the sight was comical or unnerving, but either way, it left a strange taste in my mouth. I found myself wondering if this was what our world would eventually become—something shiny and strange, stuck between the past and the future.

Aaron had always talked about progress, about guiding us forward, about creating something better. He never said what he had in mind exactly, and I trusted him—at least, I tried to. He had good intentions; I didn't doubt that. But the doubt kept gnawing at me, the feeling that this change might not end up how he hoped. I'd heard the saying before: not all progress was a good thing. I couldn't shake that thought from my mind.

We arrived at an open square, something like a gathering spot for the city's inhabitants. A tall statue rose from the center. I looked up at it, tracing the figure carved in a proud, commanding stance. It had to be Zhao Quan—a person of clear importance, his presence dominating the square, though I knew nothing of his story.

Before I had a chance to react, Kuroka's grip tightened on my shoulder, yanking me to a halt. I glanced her way, then caught where her eyes and Aaron's had landed—a group moving in on us from all directions.

Aaron's voice dropped low, almost too quiet to hear. "On the count of three, I'm going to make them lose focus. I'll shut down the cameras around here too. Stick close and follow my lead." We gave quick nods, no time for hesitation.

The people surrounding us drew their weapons—guns gleamed, swords raised, all aimed with clear intent. So much for Zhao Quan's talk of civility. It seemed he had dropped that pretense altogether. Now, brute force was the way forward, and he wasn't hiding it anymore.

"One of the three MuskaPohs," Aaron muttered under his breath. I felt a flash of confusion—Kuroka's face mirrored mine—but Aaron's tone stayed calm. We watched the puzzled expressions of our would-be captors as Aaron continued.

"Two of the three MuskaPohs," he added, his finger moving in a small motion behind his back. A strange, knowing look settled in his eyes, and I knew something big was about to happen.

Aaron's hand rose, his finger pointing straight at the man who appeared to be leading the group. "Three of the three MuskaPohs. And they're starving," he said. His strange words threw them off—faces twisting in confusion.

Then, a sudden cloud of thick smoke enveloped the entire street. It swallowed everything in a split second, making it nearly impossible to make out anything beyond a few steps. As if by some prearranged signal, we moved—covering ourselves, our presence fading into nothingness.

Aaron's grip locked around my wrist, and just like that, the world became a blur of gray and shadows. He pulled us up in a rush, leaping to the top of a nearby building with ease. We landed on the roof, the city below lost in the swirling mist.

"What the hell was that, nya~?" Kuroka's voice rose as we raced across the rooftops, feet skimming over stone and metal. Each leap took us farther from the scene.

Aaron didn't even look back. He gave a casual shrug and said, "Felt like doing a countdown, but with a little twist. I based it on friendly Poh. Poh just fit, I guess?" His grin was wide, unapologetic.

Kuroka snorted, a chuckle escaping despite the tension, and we kept moving—following Aaron's lead as he aimed for something ahead. Kuroka's eyes narrowed as we tracked his movements, but he didn't give anything away. Whatever he had in mind, we were along for the ride.

— ○ ● ○ —

"What is this place?" Kuroka's voice echoed as we stopped to take in our surroundings.

We had reached the farthest corner of the city, deep in the northern district. Aaron had led us to a narrow alley hidden from plain sight, where a barely noticeable illusion masked a door. He pushed it open, revealing a descending staircase. We stepped down, each step a slow march into the unknown, the stairs plain but leading us into something stranger by the second.

Symbols covered the walls, strange marks and shapes painted in every corner, each one giving off a faint light. A soft chime rang out from them, like the tone you'd hear striking a glass crystal back in our universe. It was weird, unsettling even, like something was both there and not there at the same time.

Aaron said little. He moved without pausing, not glancing around like the rest of us. His eyes focused, though on what, I had no clue.

"These things... They're creepy. What are they, Aaron?" Kuroka pressed, catching up to him, her voice a little strained.

He barely slowed down, tossing a quick answer over his shoulder. "You'll see soon enough. We're almost there. Just know that... they keep the barrier outside in place." His explanation didn't reveal much, but it made us wary. Kuroka and I exchanged a look and kept following, each step taking us closer to whatever Aaron had planned.

After a couple more minutes of silence, only the strange sounds around us keeping company, we finally reached another door. Aaron reached out and tapped it lightly; the whole thing crumbled into dust, leaving only traces behind.

It seemed like it had some kind of defense system, the type that would've triggered alarms or something worse if we had forced it open. Aaron had probably done something earlier to stop it from going off.

Inside, the room opened up. Thick, clear tubes lined the walls, their insides filled with strange, shifting shapes moving quickly through them.

All of the smaller pipes connected to a massive tube that dominated the room's center. It looked more like a tank than a simple pipe, filled to the brim with liquid that shimmered under the room's lights. Tiny particles floated inside, catching the dim glow.

Aaron approached the tube, his hand pressing against the glass, eyes on the strange substance inside. "This is the core," he said. "Everything else draws its energy from here."

My confusion only grew. "What... what is it?" I asked, trying to make sense of it.

"Ever heard of Stariquid?" Aaron asked, turning his head slightly toward us. We both shook our heads in unison, clearly clueless. "It's what happens when you take matter from stars that are long dead or denied—whatever's left of them. They mix that material with liquid, call it 'Stariquid.' It's a stupid name, honestly, just 'star' and 'liquid' mashed together. But the important thing is, it's the stuff they've been using for power."

He stopped for a second, then continued, "The rest of the energy sources come from minerals scattered across the galaxy, including materials found on this planet. But there's something else—something that makes up a huge part of the energy here. Decomposed remains. Bones, bodies, and even the souls of the people who lived here before. Zhao Quan figured out how to harness that, and it was Elanor who helped him make it possible."

The room felt different after his words, the reality of it sinking in. "The entire city's power—maybe even the whole continent—comes from the dead. They're using their remains, their very essence. The most powerful sources are what's left of the ones who served the generals before, along with…" Aaron's voice took on a strange tone, "...Aelin's remains. Her bones, her soul. And there's something else—Xie Qiu's sister, one that never got to live. An unborn child."

My breath caught, and my sister made a sharp noise that echoed in the room. It sounded wrong—horribly wrong. I had come here expecting some kind of secret, but not this.

— ○ ● ○ —