The sun dipped lower toward the horizon as training finally came to an end.
Golden light stretched across the Manila skyline, spilling over rooftops and narrow streets before settling into the Nozomi family's backyard. The heat of the afternoon slowly faded, replaced by a cooler breeze that moved gently through the trees beyond the fence.
The training ground looked worn.
Dust still lingered faintly in the air. The dirt circle was covered in overlapping footprints, each mark telling the story of the hours Kosoku had spent fighting. One of the wooden dummies stood slightly crooked, its base loosened from repeated impact despite Gabriel's attempt to fix it.
Kosoku sat at the edge of the wooden porch, his legs hanging loosely as he tried to recover.
His arms felt heavy.
His legs ached even more.
Fighting without sight had forced him to move differently, to rely on balance and instinct instead of habit. Muscles he had never noticed before now burned quietly beneath his skin.
He leaned back slightly and exhaled, letting the evening breeze cool the sweat on his face.
The sliding door behind him opened.
Alisa stepped outside carrying a towel and a bottle of cold water. Her silver-blonde hair shifted gently in the wind as she approached him.
Without a word, she dropped the towel over his head.
Kosoku blinked.
"Hey—"
"You're soaked," she said calmly.
Kosoku rubbed his hair with the towel before taking the bottle. He drank deeply, the cold water washing away the dryness in his throat.
"You say that every day, Mom."
"And every day it's true, Kosoku."
Kosoku chuckled.
Across the yard, Gabriel adjusted the training dummy. The wood creaked slightly as he tightened the base and stepped back, checking its stability.
Kosoku watched him for a moment. "Dad?"
Gabriel didn't look away. "Hmm?"
"Why did you make me fight blindfolded?"
Gabriel shrugged. "Because enemies don't wait until you're ready."
Kosoku frowned. "That doesn't really answer it."
Gabriel turned this time. "You rely too much on your eyes."
Kosoku blinked. "But.... everyone does."
Gabriel smirked slightly.
"Exactly! Mostly, assassins rely on their instincts."
Kosoku leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the dirt circle.
That moment returned to him, the shift in the air, yhe faint pressure of movement, the feeling of someone being there, even without seeing them. It had been strange but also... right.
Alisa sat beside him. "You felt something new today," she said softly.
Kosoku nodded. "I knew where he was... even without looking."
Alisa smiled. "That's your awareness improving."
Kosoku frowned. "You mean sensing mana?"
"Partly." She tapped his chest lightly. "But mostly instinct."
Kosoku leaned back. "So I'm becoming like Dad?"
Gabriel snorted. "You're still far from that. Listen — You train to be the strongest out there, yet you carry yourself like you have nothing to offer. But I see it — true power doesn't need to shout. Keep walking that path, because the day you let your strength show will shake everyone who ever underestimated you. Understood?"
Kosoku nodded.
"Understood, sir!"
Gabriel walked over and leaned against the railing. "But you're learning fast."
Kosoku raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a compliment."
Gabriel crossed his arms. "Don't get used to it."
The breeze passed through the yard again,
Kosoku's gaze shifted toward the street.
The black sedan was gone but the feeling of being watched remained.
"Dad," he said.
Gabriel glanced at him.
"The Association."
Gabriel nodded. "They were there."
Kosoku frowned. "You knew the whole time?"
Gabriel smirked. "Of course."
Kosoku sighed. "You could've told me."
"You figured it out."
Alisa placed a hand on his shoulder. "They're observing you."
Kosoku looked down. "Why?"
Gabriel answered. "Because talent attracts attention, remember?."
Kosoku scratched his head. "That's sounds annoying."
Gabriel chuckled. "It is."
Kosoku leaned forward again. "So if they think I'm strong...?"
"They watch you."
"...And if I'm weak?"
"They stop caring."
Kosoku nodded. "I prefer that, I will act like I'm weak ."
Alisa spoke gently. "But hiding strength has its risks."
Kosoku tilted his head. "Like what?"
"People might underestimate you."
Gabriel smirked. "That's the advantage."
Kosoku smiled. "I like that plan."
A quiet pause settled between them then Gabriel straightened. "Come here."
Kosoku groaned. "...There's more?"
"One last thing."
Kosoku stood reluctantly and walked back into the circle.
"Bring out your lightning."
Kosoku raised his hand and sparks crawled along his skin before gathering at his palm.
"Compress it," Gabriel said.
Kosoku focused.
Instead of releasing the lightning, he held it in place. Pressed it inward, forced it to stay
and the energy resisted. Then slowly, It twisted and condensed. A thin blade of lightning formed in his hand, a dagger.
It hummed softly— Then shattered into sparks.
Kosoku blinked. "...It happened again."
"Again," Gabriel said.
Kosoku tried.
But this time the lightning collapsed before forming anything.
"I lost it."
Gabriel didn't seem disappointed. "That's normal."
Alisa stepped closer. "That technique is unstable."
Kosoku scratched his head. "I didn't even try to make it."
Gabriel nodded. "That's how real techniques start."
Kosoku's eyes lit slightly. "...So I made that?"
Gabriel smirked. "Maybe. If you practice more, you will master it someday."
Kosoku looked at his hand again, the lightning was gone but the shape remained in his mind.
A little later, the smell of dinner filled the house.
Kosoku walked into the dining area, his stomach already growling. The table was full—steaming rice, pork sinigang, fried tilapia, and at the center, chicken adobo.
His eyes lit up immediately. "Mom, this looks delicious."
"You trained hard today," Alisa said.
Kosoku sat down quickly and reached for the chili.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Siling labuyo again?"
Kosoku nodded while mixing it into the sauce. "Spicy is better."
Gabriel shook his head with a quiet laugh.
"And you're five."
Kosoku grinned. "Don't worry dad, I'm okay."
Dinner passed peacefully.
Conversation flowed easily—training, improvements, tomorrow's plans. For a moment, everything felt normal.
After eating, Kosoku stood and stretched.
"I'm going to shower."
"Cold water," Gabriel said.
Kosoku groaned.
"You always say that."
"And you always complain."
A few minutes later—
"AH—!"
Cold water hit his skin.
"That's freezing! But it feels great."
But after a moment, his body relaxed. The soreness faded, the exhaustion softened.
When he finished, he dried his hair and returned to his room.
Night settled over the city. Kosoku lay on his bed, staring at his hand. A faint spark flickered, he smiled slightly. The dagger would come back. He was sure of it.
And when it did—
Across the city, inside the Philippine Warrior Association headquarters—
A screen froze on a single frame. A lightning
element was condensed, it was formed into a blade.
A senior officer stepped forward. "...Replay that."
The footage looped again and again until the room fell silent.
"...He's five," someone muttered.
The officer didn't respond his eyes remained fixed on the screen.
"No," he said quietly. "That's not talent."
He paused. "...That's something else."
Back in his room—Kosoku closed his eyes and deep within his chest—something stirred. Not lightning, not wind and not water.
Something darker and something older.
For a brief moment— the air in the room grew still. As if even the world itself… hesitated. And far beyond Earth— in a place long buried by time and memory— something ancient opened its eyes and whispered a name...
Erebus.