The night wind swept across the shattered forest, carrying the scent of burned roots and overturned soil. Echoes of the previous battle still trembled in the air—faint vibrations of spiritual residue twisting together like fading smoke. Kirin stood alone in the clearing, his fists still warm from the clash, though his heartbeat had finally slowed.
He hated the silence after fighting. It always felt too heavy… too aware of him.
Behind him, the branches rustled as Reina stepped out, bruised but steady.
"You pushed too hard again," she said quietly. "Your aura nearly collapsed."
Kirin exhaled. "If I didn't push, we wouldn't be standing here."
"That doesn't make it less dangerous."
Her worry was obvious, and that made Kirin look away. Ever since his Disorder awakened, the energy inside him wasn't just unstable—it responded to his emotions too eagerly. Today was the closest he had come to losing control since his training in the Capital.
A flicker of orange glowed along his forearm before fading. He clenched his hand to hide it.
Reina wasn't fooled.
"Your flames… they looked different this time."
He knew exactly what she meant. Whenever he used too much power, the fire changed color—shifting from its usual burning crimson to a shade closer to deep embers, the kind that appeared at the bottom of a dying hearth. Only it wasn't dying. It was becoming something else.
Before Kirin could answer, a faint hum cut through the air.
A transmission stone.
Reina reached into her pouch and pulled out the small crystal disc. It pulsed once, then projected a rough, flickering image—Master Rowan.
His expression was unusually sharp.
"Kirin. Reina. Listen carefully."
Kirin straightened, tension tightening his back. Rowan only used this tone when things had taken a turn for the worse.
"A high-level Rift has opened near the Eastern Perimeter," Rowan said. "Not a crack. A full manifestation."
Reina inhaled sharply. "A full manifestation? That hasn't happened in years—"
"And it's not stable," Rowan continued. "Its energy readings are… chaotic. I am sending the location to you now."
The projection dimmed for a moment as coordinates streamed in glowing runes.
Kirin frowned. "Why call us specifically? The Capital should send an elite unit—"
"They are already deployed," Rowan said. "But the Rift's resonance matches your aura signatures. Both of you. The Council believes your presence may stabilize it—or at least allow you to enter safely."
Reina exchanged a troubled glance with Kirin.
"Enter?" she repeated. "You think something is inside?"
"Not think." Rowan hesitated. "We detected signs of something trying to push its way through."
The wind suddenly felt colder.
"What kind of entity?" Kirin asked.
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "We don't know. But its aura… is similar to the one that first created your Disorder, Kirin."
The words hit like stone.
Kirin's chest tightened—not in fear, but something sharper. The memory of that night—the darkness swallowing the sky, the monstrous pressure, the screaming that echoed through what felt like the whole world—returned like a shadow pulling itself out of the past. He forced his breathing steady.
"Tell us what you need," Kirin said.
Rowan nodded, relief sneaking into his expression. "Good. Head to the perimeter immediately. Do not engage alone. Observe, report, and wait for reinforcement unless you have no choice."
The projection faded.
Reina closed her eyes for a moment. "Why does it always have to be you?"
"Because it started with me," Kirin murmured. "And maybe… this time, I can end it."
She stepped closer. Not touching him—she rarely did—but close enough for her presence to settle his emotions.
"You don't carry this alone. Remember that."
Kirin nodded once.
But deep down, he knew the Disorder inside him disagreed.
Fog swallowed most of the landscape as they approached, thick enough to distort shapes and swallow sound. The sky above the barrier shimmered with faint distortions—a ripple, like heat rising off metal, but darker. The trees twisted the closer they came, their branches bending unnaturally toward the same point: the Rift.
It floated several meters above the ground like a tearing wound in the air. Bright crimson veins of energy pulsed along its edges, each contraction sending vibrations through the environment.
Reina swallowed. "This is worse than the reports."
Kirin stepped forward. The closer he got, the louder the tension inside his chest became. His Disorder didn't react like this to ordinary Rifts.
It was calling him.
A sudden shockwave burst outward from the Rift. Kirin instinctively shielded Reina, bracing against the force. The blast shook the trees but didn't knock them back.
Reina's eyes widened. "It recognized you."
"No," Kirin whispered. "Something inside recognized me."
Before they could move further, a piercing sound cracked through the barrier—like a giant claw dragging across glass. A sphere of dark energy pushed against the Rift from the inside, stretching it out of shape.
"Kirin!" Reina grabbed his arm. "It's trying to break through!"
"Then we stop it."
He stepped forward—just as another shockwave radiated outward. The burst hit him harder than the first, and for an instant he saw an image flicker across the Rift's surface.
A silhouette.
Tall. Shrouded. Familiar.
His pulse froze.
Reina saw the change in his expression. "Kirin… who is that?"
"I don't know," he said quietly. "But it's the same presence from the night my Disorder awakened."
The ground beneath the Rift cracked.
Reina's voice shook. "If that thing passes through—"
"It won't."
Kirin stepped closer, letting the volatile energy swirl around him. His flames flickered to life, but they weren't ordinary. They burned with an ember-black glow, small but intense.
The same color from that night.
Reina noticed immediately. "Your flames… they changed again."
He didn't answer.
The Rift pulsed like a beating heart. The silhouette inside reached forward, its hand pressing against the barrier.
And the barrier thinned.
Reina drew her blade. "We need to retreat and wait for the others."
Kirin shook his head. "If we wait, that thing enters the world."
"But alone—"
"I'm not alone. You're here."
She hesitated, then nodded.
Kirin inhaled slowly, letting the fire inside him settle into his veins. For once, it didn't feel chaotic. It felt… aligned. Like the Rift's energy was syncing with his own.
He thrust his hand forward, flames swirling around his arm.
"REINA! NOW!"
She surged alongside him, her spiritual aura forming a brilliant arc of blue light.
Their combined energies slammed into the Rift—
—and the world flashed white.
When Kirin's vision returned, he felt weightless.
Then the ground hit him.
He pushed himself up, head throbbing. Reina groaned somewhere nearby.
"Kirin?" she called.
"I'm fine," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure.
They were no longer in the forest.
They stood in a barren, silent wasteland under a sky of swirling darkness. Islands of stone floated overhead like broken pieces of another world. Everything felt muted, distant, as if sound itself was being swallowed.
Reina steadied herself. "A pocket realm. A Rift interior…"
Kirin slowly turned—
—and froze.
The silhouette from before stood about twenty meters away, now fully visible.
Not a monster.
Not a beast.
A person.
Tall, cloaked in swirling shadows, with eyes the same ember-black color as Kirin's new flames.
The figure lifted their head slightly.
"So… you've returned."
Kirin's breath caught.
Reina's blade trembled in her grip. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer her. Their gaze stayed on Kirin—unbroken, almost… disappointed.
"You were supposed to follow the path," the figure said. "Yet here you are, struggling with a power you don't understand."
Kirin stiffened. "How do you know about my Disorder?"
The figure tilted their head.
"Because," they said softly, "I am the one who gave it to you."
Reina gasped.
Kirin's heart dropped.
The figure stepped forward, the air warping around them with every movement.
"And now," they continued, "it's time you learn the truth."