Author's Note: Someone in this chapter can sense essentials from 500+ meters away. That's not normal. Most essentials max out at 100 meters. Ask yourself: why is this person different? The answer connects to Chapter 47.
POV: Kaito Endo
Word Count: ~1,900
Three weeks since the message.
Three weeks of training that Kaito could measure in results: substance the size of a small car, held for almost three minutes before exhaustion forced dismissal. The cost showed in subtler ways—two nosebleeds he'd hidden from his aunt, one near-collapse during lunch that he'd passed off as skipping breakfast, the constant ache behind his eyes that suggested pushing limits had consequences.
Worth it.
The gymnasium rooftop at 7 PM had become routine. Takeshi worked with Ayumi on endurance, timing her as she held Akira's face for two minutes seventeen seconds before the golden glow flickered and failed.
Personal record.
Akira himself practiced the razor-edge between solid and intangible, phasing through the rooftop's edge. Every third attempt, he miscalculated and smacked into concrete with a grunt that said pain builds skill.
"Again," Takeshi said as Ayumi caught her breath. "This time, try speaking. Voice work is harder than appearance."
Ayumi's features blurred, reformed into Takeshi's face. When she spoke, it was his voice but wrong—like hearing a recording of yourself, familiar yet alien.
"How's this?"
"Better," Takeshi said. "But you're thinking too hard. It needs to be—"
The prickling hit Kaito's awareness like static electricity.
Essence signature. Unfamiliar. Moving fast toward their location from the east. The feeling was sharp—hostile intent wrapped in energy that tasted like ozone and aggression.
"Someone's coming," Kaito said. Mist manifested around his hands without conscious thought. "Hostile."
Three weeks of training showed in the response time. Ayumi's transformation dropped as she spun toward the fire escape. Akira went translucent, half-phased. Takeshi's shimmer activated, air distorting around him in defensive readiness.
Two seconds later, a figure appeared at the rooftop's edge.
Not climbing.
Not using the fire escape.
Just there—like they'd jumped from the neighboring building's roof, a gap of at least four meters that should have been impossible but clearly wasn't.
Male, maybe nineteen or twenty. Lean build, dark clothes, face partially shadowed. But the eyes were clear—predatory focus, the kind that came from hunting things that fought back.
Red energy crackled across his skin like captive lightning.
"Creativity Club," the stranger said. His voice carried an edge that suggested violence was a language he spoke fluently. "Four members. Substance manipulation, reversal, phase-shift, transformation." A smile that wasn't friendly. "You're building quite the reputation."
"We don't want trouble," Takeshi said, moving to put himself between the stranger and Ayumi. Position, Kaito noted. Always protecting. "We're just training. There's plenty of—"
"I'm not here to share space." The red energy intensified, visible now as crackling patterns that danced across the stranger's forearms. "I'm here to see if the rumors are worth anything. Four talented essentials training together. Sounds like easy practice."
"Practice for what?" Kaito asked, though his gut already knew.
"For when it counts." The stranger's essence flared brighter. "Thirty-two days left. Might as well start sorting competition now. See who's actually dangerous and who's just... training."
The last word came out mocking.
Then he moved.
Fast.
One moment ten meters away, the next he was there, red lightning trailing behind him, fist aimed at Takeshi's face with force that would crack bone.
Takeshi's reversal field expanded.
The punch reversed mid-strike, momentum flipping, should have sent the stranger stumbling backward off-balance—
The red energy absorbed the reversal. Twisted. Redirected. The stranger came at Takeshi from a different angle before the field could reset, moving like someone who'd fought reversers before and knew the 0.3-second delay was exploitable.
Kaito created a barrier—solid, dense, the substance forming between them faster than thought.
The lightning-wreathed fist punched through like the barrier was made of sugar glass.
Shit.
Akira phased up through the concrete behind the stranger, hands reaching to grab from the blind spot—
Red energy exploded outward in a pulse that forced him solid. Akira's phase-shift failed mid-manifestation and he hit the rooftop hard, gasping like he'd been gut-punched.
"Energy disruption," the stranger said casually, like narrating his own techniques. "Three-meter radius. Your ghost trick doesn't work inside my field."
Ayumi's golden glow flared. Her features shifted into someone Kaito didn't recognize—taller, broader, more muscular. She moved forward with borrowed confidence, fist cocked back—
"Transformation copying a fighter's build," the stranger observed, sidestepping her punch. "Clever. But you don't have their muscle memory."
He proved it by sweeping her legs. Too-telegraphed movement, too-obvious weight distribution. Ayumi hit concrete, transformation dropping immediately as concentration shattered.
Ten seconds. Three teammates down or neutralized.
The stranger turned to face Kaito with that same predatory assessment.
"Substance manipulator. One state at a time, right?" His smile widened. "Been watching you train. Seen the limitation. So which state saves you? Gas is too slow to form. Liquid won't stop me. Solid I'll break through."
"Then I'll make more of it," Kaito said.
He pushed.
The greenish-blue substance erupted—more volume than he'd ever created, compressing into multiple solid spears launching from different angles simultaneously. Not one attack. Five. Six. Overwhelming offense.
Red lightning met each spear mid-flight, shattering them back to mist.
But it cost him. Kaito saw it—the slight stumble, the way the lightning flickered for half a second. Energy disruption worked both ways. Using that much power drained even him.
"Not bad." The stranger's tone shifted slightly, assessment recalculating. "You've got output. Might actually survive the first round." He stepped back, red energy dimming. "But you're not ready. None of you are."
"Then why attack us?" Takeshi was back on his feet, helping Ayumi up. Blood trickled from his split lip where the initial punch had grazed despite the reversal. "If we're not worth your time—"
"Because everyone's hunting now." The stranger moved toward the rooftop edge. "You think you're the only team training? Six confirmed teams in Tokyo that I know of. Maybe more hiding. And every single one is looking at the others, calculating who's weak enough to eliminate before trials even start."
"The message said teams of four required," Akira said quietly, pushing himself to sitting. "Didn't mention pre-trial combat."
"Message gave you rules of the game. Didn't say you couldn't start playing early." The stranger paused at the edge. "Free advice: claim territory or become territory. Show strength or become a target. The countdown started three weeks ago, but the real competition started the moment people understood what's coming."
"Who are you?" Kaito demanded.
"Someone who's already ahead of you." Red lightning crackled. "Someone who'll remember that the substance manipulator landed a hit. Volume output like that—you're worth watching."
He stepped backward off the five-story drop.
Kaito rushed to the edge expecting to see impact. Instead—red lightning crackling as the stranger landed in a roll three stories down on the adjacent building's lower roof, then vanished into Tokyo's evening sprawl.
Gone.
The rooftop held only heavy breathing and the aftermath of inadequacy.
"Everyone okay?" Takeshi asked, wiping blood from his lip.
"Define okay." Ayumi sat on concrete, golden glow flickering around her hands like her essence was trying to manifest defensively without permission. "I got destroyed in three seconds."
"We all did," Akira said. His voice was quieter than usual, shaken. "That energy disruption—forced me solid. Didn't know that was possible."
"Apparently a lot is possible that we don't know about," Kaito said. His hands trembled—adrenaline, exhaustion, the cost of creating that much substance that fast. The stranger had been toying with them. Could have done real damage if he'd wanted.
"But he didn't," Takeshi pointed out. "He tested us. Measured us." He looked at each of them. "And found us wanting."
The words stung because they were true.
"So what do we do?" Ayumi asked. "Hide? Train harder? What?"
"We adapt." Takeshi's voice was firm despite the blood. "He said claim territory or get claimed. Fine. We claim. We establish ourselves as a team that doesn't fold. And we train like our lives depend on it."
Because they did.
Kaito thought about the stranger's words. Six confirmed teams. Maybe more hiding.
Thirty-two days until trials that would probably kill most participants.
His biggest attack—the multi-spear assault that had drained him nearly empty—shattered like nothing.
"We need to get stronger," he said quietly. "Much stronger. Fast."
"Agreed," Takeshi said. "Starting tomorrow, intensity doubles. Morning and evening sessions, no exceptions. We learn combination attacks, cover weaknesses, develop team coordination that makes us more than four individuals."
His eyes were determined in a way that made Kaito believe they might actually survive this.
"That stranger wants to remember us? Fine. We'll give him something worth remembering."
They cleaned up in silence, each processing how badly they'd been outmatched.
Kaito stayed last, standing at the rooftop edge, looking out over Tokyo's lights. Somewhere in this city, six teams—maybe more—prepared for trials still shrouded in mystery. Some hunting others. Playing the game early.
Creativity Club had just become a known quantity.
The mist coiled around his fingers, almost protective.
Thirty-two days.
He needed to create more than spears. Needed speed, versatility, power that didn't drain him after one assault.
Needed to be someone who could protect his team instead of watching them fall one by one.
The substance responded to his determination, growing denser.
For just a heartbeat, the greenish-blue darkened—a tint of black bleeding through at the edges before Kaito forced it back to normal.
He dismissed it quickly, disturbed by the color shift, and headed for the fire escape.
Tomorrow meant harder training.
Tonight meant figuring out how to push limits without shattering himself.
Or at least how to shatter productively.
Kaito walked home through streets where normal people lived normal lives. A couple passed him arguing about dinner plans. A salaryman stumbled from an izakaya, laughing with coworkers. A high school girl talked on her phone about some drama Kaito couldn't begin to care about.
None of them knew.
None of them could see the essence signatures that Kaito felt like background radiation—distant, faint, but present. Other essentials moving through the city, hidden in plain sight.
How many were hunting? How many had already started eliminating competition?
His phone buzzed.
Takeshi: Team meeting tomorrow morning. 6 AM. We need to talk strategy.
Akira: Acknowledged.
Ayumi: I'll be there. My ego needs recovery time but my body is fine.
Kaito: See you then.
He pocketed the phone and turned down his street. Apartment 403 was dark except for the kitchen light—Aunt Yuki waiting up, probably.
The conversation would be familiar. "You're staying out late." "Just studying with friends." "You look exhausted." "Big test coming up." Lies layered on lies, protecting her from a truth she couldn't process.
Kaito climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than it should.
Three weeks since everything changed.
Thirty-two days until it got worse.
And somewhere in Tokyo, a stranger with red lightning was telling his own team about the substance manipulator who'd actually landed a hit.
Kaito's hands clenched.
Next time wouldn't be a test.
Next time, he'd be ready.
The mist wisped from his fingers briefly before he shoved it down and opened the apartment door.
"Tadaima," he called out, slipping into the familiar lie of normalcy.
But behind his eyes, all he could see was red lightning shattering his best attack like it was nothing.
Thirty-two days.
Not enough time.
Never enough time.
[To be continued in Chapter 9...]
Author's closing note: The stranger mentioned "six confirmed teams." Earlier we learned maybe 8-10 teams possible. Someone's lying about the numbers. Also—that black tint? First appearance. Kaito dismissed it fast. What triggered it? Hint: it wasn't the fight.
Next update: [Day/Time]
Collections: [Number]
What's the stranger's full ability? Red lightning + energy disruption + ??? Theories below 👇
Add to library if you're hooked! This is just the warmup 🔥