The ocean screamed that day.
A roar split the sky, and the calm blue surface shattered into waves of chaos.
"It's coming from below—!"
The command barely left the instructor's lips before the sea exploded.
A massive shape tore through the waters — scales like molten stone, eyes like hollow stars.
A Dragon-Type monster, classified High End – Danger Level 8.
Even a squad of full Golden Angel hunters would have struggled.
For trainees like them, it was a death sentence.
The creature's tail lashed once.
The ship's deck split apart like paper.
Bodies were flung into the air. The air filled with screams and fire.
The sea burned — an impossible sight, as if the monster's presence itself rejected nature.
Soji clung to the shattered railing, blood dripping from his temple.
All around him, trainees were falling into the dark water.
And then he saw Finn — pinned beneath a broken mast, flames still flickering weakly from his hands.
"Finn! Move!"
"I—I can't—!"
Finn's voice trembled, his eyes glowing with faint embers.
The monster loomed above them, its tail rising like a spear.
Soji ran forward. His instincts screamed to retreat, but something inside him — something deep — answered differently.
A whisper pulsed behind his right eye.
A whisper that wasn't human.
> You wish to live? Then take it.
The world froze. For a heartbeat, everything was silent except the pounding of his heart.
Then pain exploded through his head. His vision split into fractals — countless overlapping sights, like the eyes of a dragonfly.
He saw everything. Every heartbeat. Every spark of flame. Every droplet of blood.
The tattoo across his back burned — lines of light crawling up his neck, reaching for his right eye.
The world blurred in a storm of bluish-black light.
Finn screamed, "Soji, your eye—!"
Too late.
The eye opened.
In that instant, he saw the structure of Finn's flame — a divine pattern of emotion, pain, and resolve.
He didn't understand it, but his body copied it.
It was as if the pattern of Finn's very soul was etched into his own.
And then— the sea ignited.
Soji's hand burst into bluish-black fire.
It didn't burn him — it recognized him.
He swung upward, and the flames curved like a blade, severing the monster's tail mid-strike.
The roar that followed wasn't pain — it was fury.
The beast vanished beneath the water, dragging half the burning wreckage with it.
Soji collapsed beside Finn, vision fading to black as the fire around him devoured the last fragments of the ship.
---
When he opened his eyes again, weeks had passed.
The antiseptic scent of the infirmary greeted him.
His body felt like lead, and the faint lines of the tattoo pulsed beneath his skin — as if breathing.
"So you're finally awake," a familiar voice said.
Finn leaned against the doorframe, his arm still wrapped in bandages, a tired smile on his face.
Soji turned his head. "...You lived."
"Barely. You too."
They both laughed, though the sound was strained.
Then silence.
"What... happened to me?" Soji asked at last.
"You mean your eye?" Finn stepped closer, his tone shifting. "You used my flames. But they weren't mine. Yours were darker... colder. Like they were alive."
Soji frowned. He remembered the whisper.
> You wish to live? Then take it.
"It wasn't my choice," he said quietly.
Finn nodded, though his eyes held something else — fear.
"The instructors said you were lucky. That kind of energy could have burned through your soul. But Soji..."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"Do you ever wonder where our powers come from?"
Soji's gaze flicked toward the window. Beyond it, the sun was setting — painting the sky gold and black.
"I've thought about it," he admitted. "Fragment energy... it feels alive. Like it's not just power, but pieces of something else."
"Fragments of what?" Finn asked.
Soji's answer came slow, uncertain. "I don't know. But when I used it... I felt like I was touching something that shouldn't exist. Something that looks back."
Finn's flames flickered faintly across his fingers — golden-red, alive, breathing with him.
But for an instant, Soji saw something within them: a shadow, buried deep in the light.
A fragment of an unknown being — something neither divine nor human.
---
The door hissed open.
A woman in a white uniform entered, her silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the soft light of the monitors.
"Mr. Phoenix," she said, voice calm and sharp. "You shouldn't be awake yet."
Soji blinked. "Doctor Lyselle... I'm fine."
"You're not fine."
She placed a thin tablet at the foot of his bed. On it, his vitals danced in patterns of blue and gold.
"Your energy field's unstable. Your reverse discharge nearly collapsed twice during recovery. Tell me, what exactly did you do out there?"
"I—"
He hesitated. The words I copied him felt absurd. "I just acted on instinct."
Her eyes narrowed. "Instinct doesn't rewrite your spiritual pattern."
She tapped the display, showing two overlapping graphs — one blue, one red.
"This blue one is your original fragment signature. The red one... is something else. Similar to your friend's, but distorted. Inverted."
"Inverted?" Soji repeated.
"Yes," Lyselle said softly. "As if something took his flame and... turned it inside out. Reverse discharge at the soul level. That's not supposed to be possible."
She looked at him for a long moment. "You should be dead."
The words sank into him like stones in water.
Soji forced a faint smile. "Guess I got lucky."
The doctor sighed. "Luck doesn't rewrite nature's laws."
She turned toward the door, then paused. "There's something on your back — a mark. We tried scanning it, but the instruments failed. It moves, Soji. It moves."
He said nothing.
Her tone softened. "If you ever feel that mark pulsing again, come straight to the infirmary. Don't hide it. Some powers... aren't meant for mortals."
When she left, the silence returned — heavier than before.
Finn stared at him. "You didn't tell her?"
Soji shook his head. "No one would believe me."
---
That night, Soji couldn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again — the tattoo, the burning eye, the endless reflection of the sea on fire.
He placed his hand over his chest, feeling the faint thrum of his reverse discharge — the strange balance of positive and negative energies twisting through him.
It was supposed to stabilize him, but lately... it felt like it was feeding something.
> If fragments come from beings greater than us, he thought, then what happens when we use them?
Outside, the moon cast its light over the academy grounds — silver, calm, indifferent.
And beneath that calm, Soji felt it — a pulse deep in his soul, a quiet hunger waiting to awaken again.
The tattoo's eye twitched once, hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt.
For a moment, it almost seemed to... smile.