The sun hung low in the sky, veiled behind gray clouds. The courtyard of the Tenmo Grounds had been cleared. No training. No shouting. Only silence.
A long white cloth stretched across a ceremonial altar, and atop it—two soul talismans rested, glowing faintly.
Names etched in silver ink shimmered softly:
Arazaki Jun
Arazaki Rin
They had died in the forest without a cry for help, their bodies found bloodied and cold beneath the trees. They would not rise again, not from any flow, not from any miracle.
The disciples stood in line, their faces solemn. Even Raijin kept still. Ayame wore all white. Hinazuki—still recovering—stood beside Zenith with quiet dignity, a bandage across his chest.
Kazui stepped forward in full black robe, sleeves fluttering in the breeze.
> "To live is a gamble for those who walk the blade."
"To die… is a promise."
"We honor those who fell—not for how they lived, but for what they stood for in death."
He paused.
> "We offer you—return to the flow."
With a sharp snap, Suno raised his hand. The soul talismans ignited, rising gently into the air like lanterns. The sky seemed to hold its breath.
Zenith watched as the flames flickered out. His fists clenched at his side.
They were people.
Not just names.
Later, in the stone briefing hall, Kazui read from a scroll.
"Per the seven-day performance and Flow synchronization scans… we've finalized your teams."
The tension in the air was thick.
Kazui looked up, eyes scanning.
"Team One—Ishiguro Jubei. Lithos. Shiryu Zenith."
Zenith blinked, caught off guard.
Jubei grunted in approval.
"Good. I like sharp swords and silent allies."
Lithos gave a small smirk.
"Try not to die in front of me, samurai-boy."
Zenith smiled faintly. "Don't slow me down."
Kazui continued.
"Team Two—Ayame, Raijin, Ranka."
"Ugh," Ayame said. "Boys again."
Raijin chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll make the team look good."
Ranka giggled
"Team Three—Oborozuka, Hinazuki, Yatsurugi."
Oborozuka folded his arms. "Try not to cry, rookie."
Hinazuki looked down. "…I won't."
As the others filtered out, Zenith remained.
Kazui turned to leave—but Zenith's voice stopped him.
"Kazui."
Kazui paused.
Zenith stepped forward, gaze sharp.
"What happened to the others? Jun. Rin. The others."
Suno, now walking in from behind, narrowed his eyes.
"We don't know."
Zenith frowned. "Don't lie to me. You know something. A Platinum Oni doesn't leave two whole teams untouched unless—"
Kazui raised his hand.
"We tried a divination spell," he said quietly. "It only revealed… a hooded figure. No face. No aura. No time signature."
Suno added, "Even the energy trail was muted. Someone used high-level Flow masking."
Zenith's fists trembled.
"Then there's a traitor. Or a predator. Among us."
Kazui didn't respond.
Instead, he looked Zenith directly in the eyes, his tone suddenly far more serious.
> "If you're going to be a Samurai… you'll need to learn this lesson early, Zenith."
"Answers don't always come when you're ready. Sometimes, you have to be the one to find them."
Zenith bit down a response… then nodded.
He turned and walked out without another word.
That night, the disciples sat in their new teams around the fire circle—eating warm rice and grilled fish, eyes cast at the stars.
Raijin: "Y'know… I thought I was gonna hate being here. But this is… something."
Ranka chuckled. "What? Camaraderie?"
"Ugh, don't say that word."
Ayame rested her chin in her palm, watching the flames.
Hinazuki kept mostly quiet, but occasionally glanced at Zenith with admiration.
Jubei poked the fire with his sword hilt.
"You've got good eyes, Zenith. You see through people."
Zenith blinked. "Thanks… I think."
Lithos looked up at the stars, voice calm.
"One of us is going to die before this is over."
Everyone looked up.
"…Just a feeling," he said.
Zenith didn't argue.
In the shadows, across the outer wall, a figure stood watching the fire.
Their robes were black. Their face hidden beneath a deep hood. In one hand… a fragment of a severed talisman, still dripping red.
No footsteps.
No presence.
Only silence.