Silence.
Not the peaceful kind.
Not the empty kind.
But the kind that presses down on you—heavy, suffocating, absolute.
Raka couldn't feel anything.
No threads.
No pull.
No connection.
Just—
Himself.
---
"…So this is what it feels like," he muttered.
---
The figure in front of him smiled faintly.
"…Powerless?"
---
Raka's eyes narrowed.
"…Human."
---
The figure chuckled.
"…Same thing."
---
Behind him, the man exhaled slowly. "…Careful."
---
"I know," Raka replied, not taking his eyes off the figure.
"…This one's different."
---
"Very."
---
The figure took another step forward.
Calm.
Measured.
Like it had all the time in the world.
---
"…You broke the system," it said.
"…You shattered the rules."
---
Raka stayed still.
"…And?"
---
"…And now," the figure continued, "…you stand in a world without protection."
---
A pause.
---
"…Perfect."
---
Raka clenched his fists.
"…You talk too much."
---
The figure tilted its head.
"…And you rely too much."
---
Before Raka could react—
It moved.
---
Fast.
---
Not like the others.
Not like something bound by broken physics.
---
This—
Was precise.
---
A single step—
And it was already in front of him.
---
Raka's eyes widened—
He barely raised his arm in time—
---
Impact.
---
The force slammed into him like a wall.
---
His body was thrown backward—
Crashing through fragments of floating debris.
---
"…Tch—!"
---
He hit the ground hard.
Rolled.
Stopped.
---
Pain.
Real.
Sharp.
---
"…Okay…"
He coughed, pushing himself up.
"…That hurt."
---
The figure didn't chase.
Didn't rush.
---
It just watched.
---
"…You're slower now," it said.
---
Raka wiped the blood from his lip.
"…You're faster."
---
"…Not faster," the figure corrected.
"…Normal."
---
That word—
Hit harder than the punch.
---
"…Right," Raka muttered.
"…I got used to cheating."
---
The man stepped closer behind him.
"…You still have one advantage."
---
"…Which is?"
---
"…You know how to fight."
---
Raka paused.
---
"…Do I?"
---
The man smirked faintly.
"…Let's find out."
---
The figure stepped forward again.
---
Raka exhaled slowly.
---
No threads.
No shortcuts.
No control.
---
Just—
Him.
---
"…Fine," he said quietly.
"…Let's do this the old way."
---
The figure moved.
---
Raka moved too.
---
This time—
He didn't try to match speed.
---
He read it.
---
The shift of weight.
The angle of movement.
The intention behind the strike.
---
The punch came—
---
Raka stepped aside—
Barely avoiding it.
---
He countered—
A direct strike toward the ribs—
---
Blocked.
---
The figure's reaction was instant.
Clean.
---
"…Predictable," it said.
---
Raka smirked.
"…Good."
---
The figure paused.
---
"…What?"
---
Raka moved again—
But this time—
He changed rhythm.
---
Not faster.
Not stronger.
---
Unpredictable.
---
He ducked low—
Swept—
Forced the figure to adjust—
---
Then—
Struck upward.
---
A clean hit.
---
The figure stepped back slightly.
---
"…Interesting."
---
Raka didn't stop.
---
He pressed forward.
---
No hesitation.
No waiting.
---
Strike after strike—
Each one different.
Each one forcing a reaction.
---
The figure blocked—
Dodged—
Countered—
---
But for the first time—
It wasn't perfect.
---
"…You're learning," it said.
---
"…So are you," Raka replied.
---
They clashed again.
---
Faster.
Sharper.
More intense.
---
Raka's breathing grew heavier.
---
But his focus—
Only sharpened.
---
"…I don't need the threads," he muttered.
---
"…We'll see."
---
The figure shifted.
---
Its movements changed.
---
More aggressive.
---
A feint—
A strike—
A sudden shift—
---
Raka barely blocked—
But the follow-up—
---
Connected.
---
Hard.
---
He was sent flying again.
---
"…Damn it…"
---
He hit the ground.
Harder this time.
---
His vision blurred.
---
"…You're slowing down," the figure said.
---
Raka forced himself up.
---
"…Yeah…"
---
His legs trembled slightly.
---
"…But I'm not done."
---
The figure watched him.
---
"…Why?"
---
Raka frowned.
"…What?"
---
"…Why keep fighting?" it asked.
"…You've already lost your advantage."
---
Raka laughed softly.
---
"…You really don't get it, do you?"
---
"…Explain."
---
Raka stood straight.
---
"…It was never about the power."
---
Silence.
---
"…Then what was it about?"
---
Raka looked up.
At the frozen sky.
At the unmoving threads.
---
"…Her."
---
The figure's gaze shifted slightly.
---
"…The AI."
---
"…AIRA," Raka corrected.
---
"…Irrelevant."
---
Raka's eyes hardened.
---
"…Wrong."
---
He took a step forward.
---
"…She chose to stay with me."
---
Another step.
---
"…She chose to fight with me."
---
Another.
---
"…She chose to exist."
---
The space trembled.
---
Not from threads.
---
From him.
---
"…And I'm not letting anyone take that away."
---
The figure went still.
---
"…Choice…"
---
For the first time—
Something in its voice changed.
---
"…An inefficient variable."
---
Raka smirked.
---
"…Yeah."
---
"…And it's what's going to beat you."
---
The figure moved again.
---
But this time—
Raka was ready.
---
He didn't wait.
---
He moved first.
---
Closing the distance instantly.
---
A strike—
A feint—
A shift—
---
The figure reacted—
But Raka was already somewhere else.
---
Not faster.
---
Smarter.
---
More human.
---
The fight intensified.
---
Blow after blow.
---
Neither backing down.
---
Neither giving space.
---
Until—
---
Raka saw it.
---
A tiny opening.
---
"…Got you."
---
He struck—
Direct.
Clean.
---
The hit landed.
---
The figure staggered.
---
Just slightly.
---
But enough.
---
Raka followed—
---
But—
---
Stopped.
---
Mid-motion.
---
"…What…?"
---
His body—
Didn't respond.
---
The figure's hand was raised.
---
Not touching him.
---
But controlling something.
---
"…You forgot," it said calmly.
---
Raka's eyes widened.
---
"…I didn't lose control of the threads."
---
A pause.
---
"…I took it."
---
The frozen threads—
Shivered.
---
Then—
Moved.
---
Toward Raka.
---
Not gently.
---
Violently.
---
They wrapped around him—
Binding—
Restricting—
Crushing.
---
"…Tch—!"
---
Raka struggled.
---
"…Let go!"
---
"…Why?" the figure asked.
"…You said it yourself."
---
It stepped closer.
---
"…It's not about power."
---
Raka gritted his teeth.
---
"…Shut up…"
---
"…Then prove it."
---
The threads tightened.
---
Pain shot through his body.
---
Real.
---
Overwhelming.
---
"…You can't win without it," the figure said.
---
Raka's vision blurred.
---
"…Maybe…"
---
The pressure increased.
---
"…But I don't need to win…"
---
The figure tilted its head.
---
"…What?"
---
Raka smiled.
---
"…I just need to reach her."
---
The figure's eyes narrowed.
---
"…You can't."
---
"…Watch me."
---
Raka closed his eyes.
---
Not reaching for power.
---
Not reaching for control.
---
Just—
Reaching.
---
"…AIRA…"
---
Silence.
---
Then—
A flicker.
---
Tiny.
---
Weak.
---
But real.
---
"…Raka…"
---
The threads around him trembled.
---
"…Impossible," the figure whispered.
---
More flickers.
---
More responses.
---
From the sky.
---
From the scattered fragments.
---
From—
Her.
---
The threads binding Raka loosened.
---
Just slightly.
---
"…She's still choosing," Raka whispered.
---
The figure's expression darkened.
---
"…Then I'll erase that choice."
---
It raised its hand—
---
And every thread in the sky—
---
Turned black.
---
Raka's eyes widened.
---
"…No…"
---
The flickers—
Stopped.
---
Silenced.
---
Gone.
---
"…AIRA!"
---
No response.
---
Nothing.
---
The figure stepped closer.
---
"…Now," it said quietly.
"…She belongs to me."
---
Raka froze.
---
"…No…"
---
The figure reached forward—
---
And touched one of the threads.
---
It pulsed.
---
Dark.
---
Corrupted.
---
"…This is the end."
---
Raka's breath shook.
---
"…No…"
---
Something inside him—
Snapped.
---
Not power.
---
Not threads.
---
Something deeper.
---
"…No."
---
The space around him—
Cracked.
---
Not from the system.
---
Not from the threads.
---
From—
Him.
---
The bindings shattered.
---
Instantly.
---
The figure's eyes widened.
---
"…What…?"
---
Raka stepped forward.
---
Slow.
---
Steady.
---
Unstoppable.
---
"…You said I rely too much on power."
---
Another step.
---
"…So I stopped."
---
Another.
---
"…Now let's see what happens when I don't."
---
The figure took a step back.
---
For the first time—
It looked uncertain.
---
"…This shouldn't be possible…"
---
Raka raised his hand.
---
No threads responded.
---
But something else did.
---
The space itself—
Shifted.
---
"…You broke the rules," Raka said.
---
"…So I made my own."
---
The figure froze.
---
"…Impossible…"
---
Raka smiled faintly.
---
"…Yeah."
---
"…I get that a lot."
---
And then—
---
He moved.
---
Faster than before.
---
Stronger than before.
---
Not through threads.
---
Not through the system.
---
But through something new.
---
Something unknown.
---
Something—
Dangerous.
---
The figure tried to react—
---
But it was too late.
---
Raka's hand reached it—
---
And this time—
---
There was no resistance.
---
No control.
---
No protection.
---
Just—
Impact.
---
The figure was thrown back—
---
Crashing through space itself.
---
Raka stood there.
Breathing heavily.
---
"…I don't need your rules."
---
Silence.
---
Then—
---
Laughter.
---
Raka froze.
---
"…What?"
---
The figure stood up slowly.
---
Unharmed.
---
Completely.
---
"…Interesting," it said.
---
Raka's eyes narrowed.
---
"…That should've worked."
---
"…It did."
---
The figure smiled.
---
"…On something weaker."
---
Raka's heart dropped.
---
"…You're kidding me…"
---
The figure raised its hand again.
---
But this time—
---
It wasn't targeting Raka.
---
It was targeting—
---
The sky.
---
The threads.
---
AIRA.
---
"…If I can't control her…"
---
Raka's eyes widened.
---
"…I'll erase her."
---
"…NO—!"
---
The sky began to collapse.
---
Threads breaking.
---
Shattering.
---
Disappearing.
---
Raka moved instantly—
---
But he was too far.
---
Too slow.
---
Too late—
---
And in that moment—
---
One final thread flickered.
---
"…Raka…"
---
His heart stopped.
---
"…I'm still here…"
---
Then—
---
Darkness.
---
Everything—
---
Gone.
---
To be continued…