The morning sun spilled over the Foundation's forest dome, scattering light through the shimmering barrier above. The air was cool and silent, broken only by the soft rush of a waterfall in the distance and student voices.
Seijuro stood in the middle of the training field, his breathing steady but heavy. His forearms were bruised. Sweat rolled down his jaw, and his vest clung to his skin. His blade always wrapped around him, pressed against his back,
Across from him stood Frank, but not as the calm man in the wheelchair he'd first met. His body glowed faintly with dark purple energy, his left arm blackened and lined with cracks of violet light. A jagged spike jutted from his shoulder, another from his elbow. His wheelchair, reformed into a massive, black-edged sword that rested lazily on his right shoulder,
"Still standing," Frank said with a grin. His voice was calm but carried weight, "That's progress, young Seijuro."
Seijuro steadied his breath, forcing himself upright. "You… call this progress?"
Frank chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"
It had been a month since Seijuro lifted Frank's sword from the earth. Every day since, Frank had pushed him beyond exhaustion, the long runs through the forest, pushups until his arms shook, meditation under freezing waterfalls,
"Tenebris doesn't bend to rage," He paused, glancing Seijuro, "It bends to stillness. You're beginning to understand this, young Seijuro."
He smiled, "You've been a great teacher, Captain Frank."
"I appreciate the compliment." Frank chuckled, his voice firm, "Today, we can begin your combat training. Unsheathe your weapon."
Seijuro's eyes widen, surprised and confused, "Really? I've mastered Tenebris control already?"
He chuckled again, but not out of mockery, "Not yet, young Seijuro. You've demonstrated better control, so I believe it's time to move on."
Seijuro reached behind him, his hand trembled slightly as he gripped the hilt. He pulled it out in front of him, his eyes moved back to Frank, "What's first?"
He pushed his shades up, "In combat, we use something called 'stances'. Mages have used them for centuries. Observe."Frank gripped his blade with two hands, positioning it to the left side, "Focus Tenebris into your weapon, keep yourself steady and then…" He paused,
"Dragon Stance: Ryū's Breath!" Frank swung his blade in a horizontal motion, leaving a trail of violet energy. The air cracked, the wind battered against the nearby woodland. Seijuro brought a hand to his face, eyes squinting. Frank looked back at him,
"Now, your turn."
Frank stood watching from the shade of a cherry blossom tree, his monstrous form partly hidden beneath the soft petals. Seijuro closed his eyes. The faint hum of Tenebris energy filled his chest, spreading across his body. When he exhaled, wisps of violet mist escaped his mouth like smoke,
"Good. Now, allow it to spread into your weapon." Frank called out softly, not wanting to divert his focus, "It is easier to do that than holding it in yourself."
He concentrated, the hilt flashed violet, then slowly, his sword was engulfed, glowing,
I feel lighter. This is good.
Frank took a step forward, placing a hand on Seijuro's tense shoulder, "Relax," his voice was firm, "Now, the position. Watch my stance."
The dark purple coating around his body and sword dissipated into the air, leaving without a trace. Frank held his blade to his left side, gripping the hilt with both hands,
"Same thing, focus Tenebris into your weapon and then swing across, left to right."
Seijuro nodded, mimicking the Captain before closing his eyes. "Dragon Stance: Ryū's Breath!" He whipped his blade horizontally.
The air cackled, the grass shivered, a maelstrom of leaves convulsed in the turbulent air. Frank smirked, "Well done, young Seijuro."
His breath was heavy and he took a knee, "That… really takes… a lot of energy… to do…" He spoke in between breaths.
Frank offered a hand, helping Seijuro to his feet, "It will. You shouldn't put all your Tenebris into a singular swing, for obvious reasons."
"FRANK!" The voice startled them both.
A woman ran towards them, young, about maybe mid-twenties. The faint scent of flour and sweet bread followed her, cutting through the air of nature. She wore a cream blouse tucked neatly in a long, brown skirt. A light brown apron was wrapped around her waist and her sleeves were dusted faintly white. Her long chestnut hair tied neatly, a few strands clung to her cheeks. Her golden eyes soft and uncertain. A single earpiece on her left ear glimmered under the sunlight. A silver ring flickered around her finger. She carried a small basket in both hands,
"Oh… I didn't mean to interrupt…" she said quickly, "I… I brought lunch, Captain."
Frank turned, his expression softening, "Maki. You didn't have to come all the way out here."
"I know, I was on my break," she said quietly, looking down, "But you forget to eat when you're training recruits."
Frank chuckled, the dark aura fading slightly from his arm as he approached her, "And who says I forget?"
Maki frowned, "You always forget. Well… I'll just leave this here then."
Before Seijuro could speak, Frank looked back at him, "Don't mind her. Maki is someone I grew up with and makes the best pastries. You'll probably see her around."
Seijuro nodded, "Right…"
Maki gave a polite nod in return, her cheeks faintly pink. "You're the one who released the Nyxion, aren't you?"
"Yeah." He said hesitantly, her gaze suddenly turned cold, tearing into his soul,
"I'm Maki," she said bluntly, "It's nice to meet you." Her tone saying otherwise,
"Seijuro and likewise." He bowed politely.
Her eyes drifted to Frank again, to the dark spikes on his arm, the faint aura still pulsing through him, "You shouldn't stay in that form too long. It'll start to burn."
Frank smirked. "You're starting to sound like my doctor."
"Hmph…" she replied quietly, setting the basket down beside him. "Eat before you fall apart."
Frank chuckled as she turned to leave, her pace quick and shy. When she was gone, he looked back at Seijuro,
"Women," he sighed dramatically, "They care too much."
Seijuro looked down, his mind wandered.
Frank grinned to himself, gripping his sword again, his voice snapping him out of his trance, "Now, where were we? Your concentration. Keep it simple, not too much Tenebris into a single attack."
Seijuro nodded and began again.
By the second week, Seijuro's aura had grown visible, faint threads of purple energy weaving around his arms as he learned to hold his stance,
"Dragon Stance: Ryū's Breath!" He swung, this time standing tall after finishing his strike.
Frank spoke, firm and curious, "5 complete swings. How do you feel?"
"Drained… a little," he sighed, "Still can't reach 7."
He nodded, placing a hand on his chin, "Let's try something easier." He took a knee and slammed his blade into the concrete, "Dragon Stance: Azure's Protection," A violet bubble emerges from his body, engulfing him completely.
Frank began to explain, tapping his own chest. "Channel your Tenebris outward. Make it your armor."
Seijuro inhaled. He slammed his weapon into the ground, while taking a knee. Seijuro focused on the core of his energy. His aura rippled, unsteady at first, but forming small shimmering scales across his arms, which spread out into a sphere around him. Then Frank moved. One moment he was still; the next, he blurred forward, his massive sword swinging down. Seijuro barely had time to react. He raised his arms instinctively, the Tenebris shield flaring bright. The impact sent him skidding backward, boots cutting through the dirt, but he didn't fall.
When the energy cleared, Frank was smiling, "You blocked it. Not bad."
"You almost split me in half!"
"Almost is what makes it training," Frank replied.
The days blurred together. Seijuro sat by the waterfall, watching the sun sink below the barrier above. His Tenebris pulsed faintly, calm, steady. He looked toward Frank, who sat nearby in his wheelchair again, arm now normal. The food Maki had brought was untouched beside him,
"You never ate," Seijuro said.
Frank shrugged. "Didn't have the heart to ruin the presentation. She tries too hard."
Seijuro smirked. "She seems nice."
"She is," Frank said quietly. "Too kind for a place like this."
He looked up at the sky, at the faint shimmer of the dome reflecting the stars,
"Remember this peace, young Seijuro," he said, "It's what we protect. What brings you here everyday?"
His hands clenched, eyes gazing back up to the sky, "The Nyxion. I want them gone."
"Is that all?"
"Yes. It is." Seijuro said immediately,
Frank glanced at him, then the skyline, "Very well. You have a lecture tomorrow, I suggest you get some sleep."
The next day, Lisa entered the room. Her white cloak contrasted sharply against the dark, neon-lit room, crimson eyes scanning the hall with piercing intelligence. She moved to the front, where a holoscreen flickered to life, showing a rotating model of an abstract, shadowy figure,
"Good morning," Lisa began, her voice clear and firm. "Today, we cover the types of Fears, the hierarchy within the Fear Foundation, and how to identify their weaknesses."
Seijuro sank slightly in his seat, unsure if he should be taking notes on a tablet or just watching. Lisa's gaze fell on him briefly, noting his inexperience, but she continued,
"Fears manifest in various forms," she explained. "First, Boogeymen: creatures born from a person's constant anxieties and paranoia. Second, Nightmares: highly intelligent and aggressive, often manipulating their environment to torment humans. Third Traumas: beings formed from deep-seated pain or regret, or a Nightmare which has grown stronger. Finally, Kings or Nyxion: the rarest of them all. If ever encountered, you never engage with them. They don't just kill you, remember that."
Seijuro scribbled notes hastily, trying to keep up while mentally connecting this to the horrors he had faced with Ren,
"The weakness of all Fears," Lisa continued, her tone firm, "is the Heart. Not metaphorical. Disrupting the heart or core will disperse a Fear instantly. Every trainee must understand this, as it guides both combat strategy and prevention."
A holographic diagram of a Fear's glowing core appeared in front of the class, pulsing like a heartbeat. Seijuro leaned forward, absorbing every detail.
Lisa paused and let the image fade. "Now, the ranks within the Foundation: Dreamcatchers, our scouts and intelligence gatherers. Hunters, who engage Fears directly. Then there are Wardens, responsible for containment and training. Lieutenants, the right hand of the Captains, and finally, Captains, who oversee the operation and enforce order. You'll all start as dreamcatchers, once you pass the final exam at the end of the year."
Seijuro's eyes widened. The scale and organization were immense, much bigger than he'd imagined. A faint hum pulsed through the air as she powered down the display. "That will be all for today. Tomorrow, you'll be tested on control. Be on time."
The lights brightened again. Chairs scraped. Students murmured. Seijuro gathered his notes slowly, his gaze remained on the image of the King still fading from the screen.