ONE MONTH LATER…
Zero wandered through the quiet streets, the evening breeze ruffling his dark hair. Lanterns flickered along the narrow alleys, their wavering light stretching into long shadows behind him. Though a month had passed, the weight on his chest felt heavier than ever.
The clash with the Shadow Master replayed in his mind....
the words,
the betrayal,
the moment everything shattered.
"You've grown too strong," the Master had said, voice rumbling like thunder beneath the earth.
"You are no longer worthy of this power. I will take it."
Zero remembered the shock tightening his chest.
"Master… what did I do? Why are you doing this?"
But the only answer he received was a suffocating wave of aura exploding from the man he once trusted most.
And then....
cracking ground, overwhelming force… and silence.
Now, he walked alone.
His strength gone.
His fragments scattered.
His purpose… empty.
He didn't know where to begin.
Strength wasn't enough.
Power had failed him.
What he needed now was guidance.
As he turned a quiet corner, a small, almost forgotten shop caught his eye. Its wooden sign was faded, carved with ancient symbols half-erased by time. Smoke curled lazily from the inside, carrying the scent of herbs and incense.
Something about the place tugged at him. Not with fear… but familiarity.
He stepped inside.
A frail-looking old man sat behind the counter, polishing a set of small metal tools. Despite his wrinkled face, his eyes were sharp, piercing, observant, almost too clear.
The old man looked at him without surprise.
"You seem troubled, young one," he said, his voice soft but steady. "Why do you carry such weight in your steps?"
Zero's brows lowered. "And you talk too much for someone I just met."
The old man chuckled softly.
"I sensed you before you reached the door. Most people cannot hide their pain."
Zero tensed, shadows flickering instinctively around his hand.
"Careful," the old man warned gently. "Your body no longer supports that kind of power."
Zero froze.
"…How do you know that?"
Instead of answering, the old man raised a single finger.
A small ripple of energy brushed across the room.... calm, warm, without any killing intent.
Zero felt it immediately.
Peace.
Stillness.
Clarity.
Not the aura of an enemy.
Zero lowered his guard slightly, though suspicion still edged his voice.
"I'm not trusting you. I'm only listening."
"That is enough," the old man said with a faint smile.
He gestured for Zero to sit. When the boy hesitated, the old man whispered:
"If I wanted you dead… you wouldn't have felt it coming."
Zero hesitated. His throat felt dry.
"I… lost something. And I need to regain it. But I don't know how."
The old man gave a slow chuckle, setting the tools aside.
"People lose many things, money, memories, even friends."
He leaned forward slightly.
"But what you lost is not something ordinary, is it?"
Zero's body tensed.
His fingers curled.
"How would you know?"
"I can see it in your eyes."
The old man's expression turned thoughtful.
"Those who lose power walk differently. Those who lose purpose breathe differently."
Zero looked away, jaw clenching.
"If you know so much, then tell me how to regain it."
Instead of answering, the old man stood and walked toward a shelf full of scrolls and cracked bottles. He picked up a small glass vial, inside, a faint blue glow swirled like captured mist.
"There are two kinds of strength," he said, turning the vial in the dim light.
"One from the body, what you call elemental power. And another from the energy inside your soul. Most people only chase the first."
Zero's breath caught.
"You… can see this aura?"
The old man smiled thinly.
"Boy, I sensed you the moment you stepped onto my street."
A flash of caution ran through Zero as he straightened.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who has seen many like you." The man's tone softened. "Lost. Broken. Searching."
He placed the glowing vial on the table between them.
"If you truly want to reclaim what you lost, you must learn to control not the elements around you… but the energy inside your body."
Zero's heart pounded.
Those were words he had heard long ago, from the master who later stripped everything away.
"You speak… just like him."
"Then perhaps your master was wiser than you realized."
Silence filled the shop, broken only by the crackling stove.
Finally, the old man gestured toward a wooden chair.
"Sit. Tell me everything, from the beginning. Then I will decide if you are ready to walk the path back to your power."
For the first time in a month, Zero felt direction.
A faint spark in the darkness.
He sat.
The old man poured two cups of tea. The steam curled calmly, carrying a scent both soothing and strangely sharp.
"Start with you," he said. "Not the power. Not the loss. You."
Zero exhaled slowly.
"I was trained by someone who… wasn't supposed to train me. Someone feared by all. Someone I thought I understood."
His hands trembled slightly.
"We fought. And I lost everything, my strength, my fragments, my balance. I feel… incomplete."
"And do you resent him?" the old man asked.
Zero paused, lips parting....
"…I don't know."
"Good," the old man said. "Answers spoken too quickly are always lies."
He stood, gesturing toward a narrow path behind the shop.
"Come. You need more than wandering streets and broken thoughts. You need discipline. Guidance. Training."
Zero followed in silence.
The path led to a small house hidden among trees, a secluded clearing untouched by the noise of the town.
That evening, they ate a simple meal. The old man ate slowly, thoughtfully. Zero noticed brief flickers in his eyes, memories, heavy and unspoken.
"You knew him, didn't you?" Zero asked quietly.
The old man's movements paused.
"…Long ago, I crossed paths with someone powerful. Someone like your master."
Then he looked away.
"But our paths diverged. Now, all I can do is guide you."
Zero didn't push further.
Some truths would reveal themselves in time.
THE FIRST DAY OF TRAINING
Dawn broke with a pale golden light as Zero's training began.
His first challenge was not power…
but discipline.
Climbing tall trees.
Running steep hills.
Punching and kicking solid logs until his arms shook.
Holding stances until his legs burned.
Breathing exercises that forced him to feel the energy inside his core.
"You hold great power," the old man said, hands behind his back.
"But strength without control is destruction. You must learn to channel it, even in simple motions."
Hours passed. Sun shifted. Shadows crawled across the clearing as Zero pushed through every exercise.
By evening, he collapsed onto the grass, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"You are not ready," the old man said calmly, helping him sit upright.
"But today, you have taken your first step."
Zero looked up, exhaustion burning through him, but something else flickering beneath, determination.
"Rest," the old man said. "Tomorrow, we move beyond physical training. Tomorrow… I will show you skills that lie beyond brute force."
Zero nodded.
The Tower.
His lost fragments.
The truth behind his Master.
Everything awaited.
And this time… he would be ready.