Scene 1 — First Blood
"Remember the rules," Selena said, planting her staff into the frozen earth.
"First one to draw blood wins."
The air tightened the moment she spoke.
I rolled my shoulders once, feeling the heat beneath my skin settle into a ready hum, and nodded toward Jinsung.
"And," I added, eyes locked on him, "if you move first—it's my win."
A corner of his mouth twitched.
Selena's staff tapped the ground.
I moved.
Flames detonated beneath my feet as Shinsoo compressed into a razor-thin sheath around my legs, my body snapping forward in a burst that erased distance entirely. Snow vaporized. The world tunneled.
One step. One strike.
My fist stopped inches from his chest.
Jinsung's hand had already closed around it.
His grip wasn't tight. It didn't need to be. He tilted his head slightly, eyes tracing the angle of my wrist, the way my Shinsoo folded inward instead of flaring outward.
"…Hmph."
He released my fist and backhanded me in the same motion.
I didn't resist.
The strike passed through my face as my skin flared into fire, heat rippling outward as the Shinsoo-less impact phased through without resistance. I felt the intent of the blow more than the force—clean, dismissive.
I countered immediately.
My left hand rose, fingers curling into a claw as flame condensed along the joints, the heat sharpening into something that could tear—
—and my arm twisted sideways.
Jinsung rotated my wrist with a subtle turn, breaking the alignment of the technique before it could finish forming. The condensed flame scattered harmlessly.
His fist followed.
This time it struck my chest with Shinsoo layered cleanly through it. The impact caved the air inward, driving it out of my lungs in a single violent burst. I skidded backward across the ice, boots carving shallow trenches before I caught myself.
He'd already figured it out.
Not the move.
The logic behind it.
"I was hoping you'd stay confused long enough for me to win," I said, forcing air back into my lungs as I straightened.
He didn't answer.
So I escalated.
Fire roared behind me as wings of flame unfolded, spanning wide enough to blot out the pale sky. Each feather formed from tightly compressed heat, edges screaming as Shinsoo wrapped around them to hold shape.
I snapped them forward.
The air filled with shrieking arcs of light, dozens of projectiles tearing toward him in overlapping trajectories meant to deny space, vision, and timing all at once.
Jinsung sighed.
"So you went from a golden chicken to a golden flame."
He stomped.
Shinsoo detonated outward in a crushing wave, the ground fracturing beneath his foot as pressure erased everything in front of him. My attack vanished on contact—feathers snuffed out mid-flight as if they'd never existed.
The shockwave slammed into me, forcing my wings apart and driving me back another step.
"I'll put it out like always," he said calmly.
"So you remember I'm still the master."
I let the wings dissolve, landing lightly as the heat around me dimmed.
"Those were just my normal flames," I replied. "If you want to blow something out…"
I bounced once on the balls of my feet.
"…let's try this."
I broke the seal.
Something inside me locked into place without permission.
"Descent of the Mad Sun."
Heat surged violently outward as my body solidified, muscles tightening under invisible pressure. My hair ignited into a deep crimson glow, the air warping around me as cloth burned away in seconds, leaving only my Shinsoo-reinforced pants intact.
The snow beneath my feet hissed and retreated.
Jinsung's eyes sharpened—not in fear, but recognition.
"Nice form," he said. "Does it come with any bonuses?"
I grinned and opened my grotto heart—just a fraction.
The Tower answered immediately.
Pressure crashed down on me from every direction, invisible restraints clamping tight around my core. My circulation faltered as the world itself rejected the output, forcing the Mad Sun inward.
Too much.
Too fast.
"No," I snarled. "I refuse to lose again!"
I forced the fractures in my core to hold, pain lancing through my chest as power flooded into my right arm. The crimson sun inside me burned hotter, searing against its own containment like it wanted out—like it always did.
"Don't die, teacher," I warned, drawing my fist back.
"I can't control it and fight the Tower."
I struck.
Jinsung met me head-on.
Twin dragons of Shinsoo erupted from his fists, spiraling forward in perfect synchronization. They didn't collide with my punch so much as overwrite it—crushing through the Mad Sun's output and detonating the pressure point at its center.
The world spun.
I crashed through the treeline and into the frozen forest beyond, splintering trunks and tearing through snow-packed earth before coming to a halt.
Flames spread on impact.
Fire roared against snow, sap hissing as black smoke rose into white air.
The tundra burned.
Scene 2 — Quiet Windows
The fire crackled softly.
"You dragged me out here just to read some stupid document and test yourself?"
I handed Jinsung the wine gourd without looking at him. Yuri stood a short distance away, arms crossed, irritation practically radiating off her at the fact that I hadn't offered her a fight.
"No," I said. "I dragged you out here because I've got a kid I want you to train."
He stared at me for a long moment, then pinched the bridge of his nose.
"If I let that meathead handle her," I continued, "it'll ruin everything. I need this tribe to back Baam. Whatever he's stepping into, he'll need a force that isn't tied to FUG's leash."
Jinsung accepted the biscuits being passed around the village, chewing slowly.
"I should've known," he muttered. "First Baam's team, now another brat."
"Not just one," I corrected quietly. "I want you to jumpstart the entire tribe."
He froze.
The fire popped.
Then he laughed under his breath, a low sound that carried more weight than humor.
"…So that's what the names mean," he said. "No wonder you taught them a different language."
A chill ran through me.
"Since when can people in the Tower read foreign scripts?" I asked.
He smirked.
"I can't. But I know you."
"That's like saying Karaka could hide his heart somewhere I can't reach. I'm called the proto-slayer for a reason."
Nearby, Selena had already guided Yuri aside, steering her away from the fire without comment. Even for a Ha, this wasn't a conversation she needed to hear.
"You're going to miss it," Jinsung said suddenly.
I looked up.
"The window," he continued. "The one on the Floor of Death. I told you once it might be possible."
The firelight reflected in his eyes.
"Not like this. Not anymore."
Silence stretched.
"…I figured," I said eventually.
"You're rebuilding your core," he went on. "You're fighting the Tower every time you breathe too hard. You step onto that floor now and it won't test you—it'll claim you."
I didn't argue.
"You could hand the envoy role to the family head," he added. "Avoid the risk."
I shook my head.
"It's fine. I want to meet her too. I'll join the Workshop Battle. Use it to bypass the next set of floor restrictions."
Jinsung took the gourd back, sipping slowly.
"The Mad Sun," he said after a while. "Is that your true nature?"
There was something tired in his voice.
"Yes," I answered. "And no."
Names held power where I came from.
"Ras is my original name," I continued. "Given by my teacher, Odin, in a world long gone. When that cycle ended, everything too weak to endure it died. The only way to save me was to make me a cycle walker."
I stared into the fire as other worlds flickered briefly in the flames.
"Places like this—outside the One's influence—are shelters."
"And Crow?" he asked quietly. "Did you choose that name yourself?"
I exhaled.
"Other side of the same coin. In the last cycle, we died four times. Crow was… a mutation. A boy who lost his memories and latched onto me. My teacher split us before inserting me here."
Jinsung nodded once.
"That's why you don't care about leaving or staying," he said.
"To you, it's just another page in a book you keep forgetting."
Selena approached with food prepared by Hwa, setting it down gently between us.
The fire kept burning.
Scene 3 — The Doctrine Takes Root
"Mr. Ras?"
I looked down to find Ayin standing beside me, fingers clenched in the hem of my coat.
"Are you leaving now?"
I knelt, resting a hand on her head, and glanced toward Toyin—who should've already told the village.
"Yes," I said. "I need to carry this document to the other tribes."
Her ears twitched slightly.
"Listen to your papa while I'm gone," I added. "My teacher will take over your training. If you follow it properly, you'll become the strongest clan leader this place has ever produced."
Her eyes widened.
I placed two fingers against her chest and let a thin thread of astral energy flow.
Not power.
Foundation.
The energy settled quietly into her core, not rewriting anything—only giving the doctrine somewhere to seat. Shinsoo alone could mimic the movements, but without an anchor the Tower would sand the intent down until nothing remained but imitation.
Her breathing steadied. The air around her responded differently, like it had learned a new rhythm.
"I'll train hard!" she declared.
"I'll be the best Jade Rabbit ever!"
She sprinted back toward the training field, laughter echoing as the other children gathered around her.
Jinsung watched her go, understanding clear in his eyes now.
With the value proven, he'd agreed to pass his methods to any clan willing to sign the pact.
I straightened and turned to Toyin.
"You ready?" I asked. "Let's go convince some golden chickens."
He nodded, adjusting his robes.
"I'll head back once we're done. Junior admins can't stray too far from their assigned floors."
Selena fell into step beside us.
Behind us, the village returned to its routine—unchanged on the surface, but no longer fragile.
And for the first time, Baam wouldn't be alone.