The clatter of tools, the soft hum of diagnostics, and the faint clicks of tightening screws filled Madoka's workshop. Outside, Metal City buzzed with whispers of storms and silence. Inside, it was as if none of that mattered.
Aarav sat at the workbench, Phoenix disassembled in front of him.
Every component—balanced ring, spin track, performance tip—was laid out with surgical precision. His fingers moved steadily, not out of urgency, but as part of a quiet ritual. It wasn't about fixing damage. It was about understanding the rhythm of every piece, making sure it spun exactly as intended.
Madoka observed from across the room, arms crossed. She'd seen Bladers obsessed with power, others addicted to speed. But Aarav… he tuned his Blade like a musician adjusting an instrument.
"You know," she said, breaking the silence, "the city's still spinning because of you."
Aarav didn't look up. "The city spins because people need noise."
Madoka smirked. "Well, you made sure they listened to silence."
At that moment, the workshop door swung open, and Kenta burst in, breathless as usual.
"Aarav! You wouldn't believe it—everyone's talking about you. They're calling you 'The Silent Blader!' Some are even saying the Face Hunters are done!"
Aarav placed Phoenix's fusion wheel onto its track with a soft click.
"Noise fades," he said, eyes steady. "Rhythm doesn't."
Kenta's excitement paused. He wasn't sure if Aarav was being modest or simply didn't care. But he knew one thing—Aarav didn't spin for attention. He spun because rhythm was his way of breathing.
Madoka sighed, pushing her glasses up. "Kenta, sit down. You're spinning more than your Blade."
Kenta laughed sheepishly, plopping onto a crate.
"You think Kyoya's really gone?" Kenta asked.
Madoka's tone was calm but firm. "Storms don't disappear. They gather strength."
Aarav, still focused on Phoenix, added quietly, "He'll come back. Louder."
Outside the workshop, Metal City's balance had shifted.
The Face Hunters, once an ever-present threat in every alley, had vanished from public view. Their absence was more unsettling than their presence.
Bladers who once feared them now whispered in uncertainty.
"Did they leave?"
"Or are they waiting?"
"What happens when the storm comes back?"
The power vacuum left in Kyoya's wake wasn't filled by cheers of freedom. It was filled with anticipation. Metal City thrived on clear hierarchies. The King had fallen—but no one dared to claim the throne yet.
From atop a shadowed tower on the city's edge, a figure watched.
His hands rested behind his back, his gaze sharp, dissecting the flow of the city's energy.
Doji.
The orchestrator. The manipulator.
He had witnessed the battle between Kyoya and Aarav, but more importantly, he had watched how the city reacted after.
"So… the Silent Blader has managed to mute an entire city," he mused, a smirk playing at his lips.
Behind him, a holographic display replayed the moment Phoenix tore through Leone's storm barrier.
Doji's fingers tapped lightly against the railing.
"Control through rhythm. Fascinating."
He wasn't interested in brute force dominance. He cared about influence, about those who could shift the flow of the battlefield without needing to roar.
But he also knew storms were not easily tamed.
"Kyoya Tategami…" Doji murmured. "A wild lion who refuses to kneel. But even lions can be caged, if you control the arena."
Doji's eyes gleamed. The Face Hunters' absence wasn't a retreat—it was the calm before Kyoya's next evolution.
And Doji would be the one to shape it.
Back in the workshop, Gingka leaned against the wall, watching Aarav's meticulous adjustments with an amused grin.
"You know, Aarav, not everyone needs to understand rhythm to feel it."
Aarav looked up, his gaze steady.
"They don't need to understand. They just need to react."
Gingka's grin widened. "Well, you've got the whole city reacting, that's for sure."
Kenta chimed in, his excitement reignited. "Yeah! Everyone's talking about how you spun without shouting, how you beat Kyoya by staying calm. You're like… Metal City's ghost Blader!"
Aarav holstered Phoenix onto his belt, standing up.
"I'm not a ghost."
He clipped his launcher to his side.
"I'm just not done spinning yet."
Madoka smiled faintly. "Well, let's hope the city's ready for when the storm spins back."
Gingka chuckled. "Oh, they'll be ready. Whether they like it or not."
High above, in the shadows, Doji's smirk sharpened.
"Let's see how long your rhythm holds, Aarav. Because the storm I'm preparing… doesn't spin on rhythm."