The training chamber beneath the Citadel was darker than night.
No magitek lamps glowed here, no mirrors caught light — only the faint shimmer of enchantments woven into the walls, pulsing like a heartbeat in the void. The floor was smooth obsidian, cool under bare feet.
Sirius Blake stood in the center, breathing slow, steady, his katana sheathed. His white hair glowed faintly in the dark, the only sign of life in an otherwise lightless room.
Across from him, Cor Leonis waited — silent, arms folded, gaze sharp as the steel strapped across his back.
"This," Cor said at last, voice low but carrying. "Is where your next lesson begins. You've mastered your body, your reflexes, your awareness. Now you'll learn to make all of that disappear."
Sirius frowned. "Disappear?"
Cor nodded. "The Shadow Guard exists for one purpose — to protect without being seen. To fight wars no one will remember. To erase ourselves so that others may live."
He stepped closer, stopping just within arm's reach. "Tell me, Sirius. When you stand in silence… what do you hear?"
Sirius closed his eyes. The air hummed faintly — magitek wards, breathing, the pulse of his own blood. "Everything," he said.
"Good," Cor said. "Now make it hear nothing."
---
The first attempt failed.
Sirius slowed his breathing, steadied his stance, tried to imagine stillness — but the sound of air rushing through his lungs filled the silence like thunder. Every shift of his body scraped faintly against the floor.
Cor's voice came from somewhere in the dark. "You're thinking about it. You can't erase presence by forcing it. You have to forget you exist."
"Forget?" Sirius asked quietly.
"Yes," Cor said. "The world doesn't notice what isn't trying to be noticed. Stop standing apart from it. Become part of it."
Sirius frowned beneath his breath, unsure how to "become the world."
He tried again.
He slowed his breathing further, eased every muscle until his heartbeat steadied. He imagined himself dissolving — not vanishing, but fading, like smoke blending with air.
The chamber's mana ripples shifted faintly — but his aura still pulsed.
Cor's voice cut through the dark. "Still visible."
Sirius grit his teeth.
Again.
He centered himself, focusing inward. Adaptive Resonance flickered within his chest, responding to the command — adjusting rhythm, stabilizing pulse, quieting flow. His heartbeat slowed, breath thinner, lighter.
The air grew still.
For a moment, Cor's presence faltered — his trained senses losing track of the boy.
Then Sirius' aura flared back, bright as a beacon.
Cor stepped out of the dark, expression unreadable. "You almost had it."
"Almost?" Sirius said through his breath.
Cor nodded once. "You forgot your body, but not your will. The mind's still fighting for control. Let go completely — trust that you'll still exist after you vanish."
---
They trained like that for hours.
Cor's voice echoed through the dark:
"Breathe less. Move less. Think less."
"Silence is not the absence of sound — it's the absence of attention."
"Don't chase stillness. Let it catch you."
Every phrase sank into Sirius like a mantra.
At first, frustration burned — every time he thought he'd vanished, Cor would appear behind him with a word or a strike to remind him otherwise.
Then frustration gave way to something else: acceptance.
He stopped trying to silence the noise. He listened to it instead — his breath, his heartbeat, the faint hum of magitek threads. He didn't push them away; he blended with them.
He imagined himself as one more thread woven into the world's fabric.
His breathing disappeared first.
Then his pulse.
Then even his presence in the mana field began to dissolve.
When Cor spoke again, his voice held quiet surprise. "There."
---
Silence.
True silence.
The kind that doesn't just mute — it erases.
Sirius stood perfectly still, his aura folded inward until even the runes on the wall stopped reacting to him. The air had no weight, no breath, no trace of human life.
Cor circled him slowly, boots barely making sound. His instincts told him the boy was there — but his senses said otherwise.
Then Sirius moved — one quiet step.
Nothing. No sound, no vibration. Not even a breath disturbed the air.
Cor stopped moving. He couldn't sense the boy's position until Sirius deliberately spoke: "Here."
Cor exhaled slowly, expression unreadable. "Good. That's the first step."
Sirius lifted the blindfold from around his neck, tying it over his eyes — testing himself. "And the next?"
"Movement," Cor said. "Maintaining silence while acting."
---
The next test pushed the boundary between motion and invisibility.
Cor threw pebbles into the dark, each one marked with faint mana so that movement disturbed the air. "Cross the room without moving them."
Sirius nodded.
He began to move — slow, deliberate, every shift of muscle measured. The stones hovered, untouched. His breathing barely rippled the air.
Cor watched in silence as Sirius moved like a shadow painted across the floor, no footstep breaking rhythm, no sound revealing intent.
When Sirius reached the far wall, Cor spoke quietly. "You can stop."
Sirius froze, steadying his breath.
"You just passed what takes recruits months to master," Cor said. "How do you feel?"
Sirius thought for a moment. "Like I've stopped existing."
Cor nodded. "That's the point."
---
After training, Cor turned off the containment runes and switched on a faint magitek lamp. Light filled the chamber again, harsh and blinding after so much darkness.
Sirius squinted, blinking rapidly.
"Never lose that control," Cor said, voice quiet but firm. "The moment you forget what it means to vanish, you'll draw every enemy's eye — and end up like the rest."
"The rest?"
Cor hesitated. "Most of the old Guard are gone. The few that remain live in silence — forgotten, unseen. That's our fate."
Sirius looked down at his hands. "Then why train me for it?"
Cor's gaze softened slightly. "Because you still believe you can survive it."
---
That night, Sirius walked home beneath the barrier's quiet glow. The streets of Insomnia shimmered with magitek light — crowds moving in their rhythm, unaware of the boy who passed through them unseen.
He tested the skill once, out of curiosity.
One step.
Then another.
The world seemed to blur around him. The sound of chatter faded. People brushed past him without noticing.
He existed outside their awareness — not invisible, but forgotten in plain sight.
It was intoxicating.
And terrifying.
He released the ability with a deep breath, the sounds of the world rushing back like a tide.
For the first time, he understood the price of silence — and the weight of walking in it.
---
When he returned home, Dominic looked up from the table. "You're late."
"Training," Sirius said simply.
"Shadow work?"
Sirius nodded.
Dominic studied him. "You look… different."
"Just quieter."
Lyla appeared from the hallway, smiling faintly. "You're always quiet."
Sirius smiled back. "Now I'm quieter."
She chuckled softly. "As long as you're still mine."
"Always."
---
Later that night, Sirius stood by the window. The barrier shimmered faintly, mirroring his reflection — white hair, red eyes, and a faint outline of shadow wrapped around him like a cloak.
He whispered, "Protect unseen. Bleed without witness."
The creed echoed in his chest, no longer just words, but a vow.
He exhaled, and the shadow peeled away, leaving him alone again.
Somewhere deep within, the Resonance pulsed once — not in power, but in approval.