I walked through the empty streets at dusk, my hands tucked in my pockets, feeling the hum of my own heartbeat. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel broken—at least, not completely. My skills had saved me, saved others, and even helped me manage the chaos at home. I was… capable.
"Confidence growing," Notice said softly. "But be aware: growth has limits. Recognition of limits prevents failure."
I frowned. Limits. That word sat heavy in my chest. My hands itched for action, for control, for mastery. Could there be a challenge I couldn't overcome? Could there be a situation where my skills, my points, my judgment weren't enough?
I shook my head. Not yet. Not today. Today, I had small victories stacked behind me like stepping stones: saving the girl on the stairs, the bicycle, handling the argument at home, the alley incident. Each one had built something in me—a quiet strength, a steady pulse of confidence.
I glanced at a broken lamppost nearby. My fingers itched. Best Welder tingled in my mind. I could fix it… make it functional. But I stopped. My confidence didn't need a test right now. It needed observation, reflection.
"Good," Notice said. "Confidence without arrogance is growth. Your next trials will test both skill and judgment. Remember: points do not replace thought. Skill does not replace empathy."
I exhaled slowly, letting the lesson sink in. I had been so focused on success, on mastery, on proving to myself that I wasn't broken… that I hadn't considered how fragile control could be. One wrong move, one misjudged choice, and all those small victories could crumble.
Still, I felt a spark of something bright. I could handle this. I had already faced impossible things and survived. Every day, every choice, every skill brought me closer to… something better. Something I could barely name but could feel growing inside me: power, control, and the faintest trace of hope.
I clenched my fists, feeling the energy in my hands, the rhythm of my heartbeat. My skills were mine, my judgment was mine, my growth was mine. And whatever was coming next… I would face it as Mizu. Not weak. Not broken. Not helpless.
I glanced at the horizon, shadows stretching long across the city streets. The world was bigger, stranger, and more dangerous than I had imagined. But for the first time, I felt ready.
"Prepare," Notice whispered. "Your first true test approaches. Be ready in body, mind, and heart."
I nodded to myself, feeling a shiver of excitement. Challenges, limits, moral choices—they didn't scare me anymore. I was learning. I was growing. And I was ready for what came next.