The wind tore across the abandoned training facility, carrying dust and the faint hum of distant machinery. Ren Soji's heart pounded as he sprinted through the halls, his shadow coiling nervously around him. Every step felt like it carried him further from the safety of the Umbra Circle, and yet, closer to a confrontation he had no right to face.
Ahead, the massive steel door loomed — cold, metallic, and final. Ren's chest tightened. Metal walls always brought a sense of containment, but here, it was worse: he felt trapped, boxed in with the consequences of what he had become.
Rain's voice echoed behind him, calm yet carrying a weight that made Ren flinch.
"Ren," he called, swinging the sword he carried loosely at his side. "I know you're not ready. But listen carefully. The man waiting for you inside… he's like a canon snake.
Deadly, precise, and whatever you think you know about hybrids? Forget it. He's faster, smarter, and stronger than you can imagine."
Ren skidded to a stop, gripping the handle of his Shadow Katana tighter. "I… I'm literally at a disadvantage! This man—he's beaten people with just his bare hands. He can take down a B-rank hybrid without breaking a sweat! And you expect me to—what? Go fight him?!"
Rain's eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and severity. "You've survived worse. But heed me: once he has you in his hands, you can't escape. And don't let that girl… don't let her get caught up in it. It's not just about strength, Ren. It's about surviving him mentally and physically."
Ren ran a hand over his face. "I've lived eighteen years without a girlfriend. And now I'm supposed to survive this? I'm beat up, exhausted, and you're telling me to face someone who's practically a legend?"
Rain shook his head slowly, his expression playful yet firm. "Don't whine. You've left your family behind for a few years, yes. But your bloodline… your family… they watch over you. And now, you'll see what that means. You're my nephew, Ren. You have to prove yourself."
The steel doors groaned as they slid open. Inside, the air was thick with an almost tangible energy. A faint glow illuminated the figure waiting there: Genrou, Ren's grandfather, a man whose presence alone could bend shadows into submission.
Ren swallowed hard. "Grandfather…" he muttered.
The old man's lips curled into a grin that was both playful and terrifying. "Ah, my boy. So this is what you've become." He leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with the memory of battles fought and victories claimed. "A hybrid. Hungry. Powerful. And still… so green. You think you're ready for me?"
Ren's shadow flickered, coiling like a living creature, claws scraping lightly against the concrete. "I… I'm not going to die. Not yet. And I'm certainly not going to let you take anyone else with you!"
Genrou chuckled, a sound like dry leaves cracking. "Stop speaking nonsense. Death is not the end, boy. But I will be with you through it, if that's what it takes to teach you your place."
Ren gritted his teeth. "Just because you're going to fight me doesn't mean I have to take it lying down! I've lived eighteen years—I want to live more!"
The old man's eyes softened, just slightly. "Good. That's the spirit I wanted to see."
Then, without warning, Genrou launched forward. The movement was impossibly fast for someone who looked more like a sage than a fighter. Every step was calculated, every strike precise, like he could anticipate the future. Ren barely had time to raise his Shadow Katana before the first strike hit.
"Ren! Don't just defend! Use everything you've got!" Rain's voice rang from behind, but even he knew this was a duel no one could control fully.
The fight was a blur. Ren's Shadows lashed out in wild arcs, seeking to ensnare Genrou's limbs, but the old man flowed through them as if dancing with them. He landed blows that sent shockwaves through Ren's senses, but somehow, he didn't strike to kill… not yet.
"You see?" Genrou taunted mid-swing, his voice calm, almost teasing. "I've trained like this my entire life. Every hybrid I've faced… every human I've taught… they were stepping stones. You… you are my challenge."
Ren countered, heart hammering, sweat beading his brow. "I'm not just some lesson! I'm… me!"
The air crackled as Ren activated his Shadow Katana fully, tendrils of dark energy snapping like black lightning. He moved faster than he thought possible, striking in continuous, fluid motions. But Genrou matched him—dodging, blocking, redirecting blows with bare hands that somehow felt like steel reinforced with lightning itself.
"This… this man… he's impossible!" Ren gasped between attacks.
"You've got spirit, boy. But remember what I said: once in my hands, you won't escape. Every strike I've trained, every move I've made, it all leads to control. But I'm playful. I'll give you a chance."
Ren stumbled back, shadow tendrils recoiling. His chest heaved. He realized that this wasn't just a physical fight—it was a test of will. Every swing from Genrou was designed to break his confidence, to push him to the edge of desperation.
"Why… why are you so weak for someone who has eaten so much?" Genrou asked suddenly, tilting his head. "Maybe… I'm just too old?"
Ren blinked, shocked. "Wait… you… you were eating humans? That's… insane."
Genrou shrugged, a mock innocent gesture. "Hunger… necessity… it shapes you. And yet, here you are, still trying to survive. I want to see if you can stand, not just fight. You've got years to learn, boy. Don't waste them running."
Rain's warning echoed in Ren's mind: the canon snake. Once caught, you can't escape. And now, trapped in this storm of fists, shadows, and lightning, Ren realized the truth: he had to prove himself. Not just to Genrou. Not just to Rain. But to himself.
Every strike, every parry, every shadow lash was a step toward that truth. The battle was far from over—but in the clash of generations, of power, and of instinct, Ren understood one thing clearly: he wasn't just fighting to survive. He was fighting to grow.
And he wasn't alone.