Thank you, sbbd, for the powerstones; they really mean a lot to me. And please, others, learn a lesson from sbbd. Thanks again. Here is an extra chapter for making the author happy.
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The forest swallowed us whole, branches scraping against our arms and legs, the underbrush crunching faintly underfoot. Every sound made my heart jump — the wind, a rustle of leaves, a distant animal cry — and I knew Nozomi felt it too. Her ears twitched constantly, tail flicking like a warning flag.
"Two hours," I muttered, more to myself than her, recalling Eve's calculation. "Two hours of hiding, and then… what?"
Nozomi's gaze was sharp in the moonlight. "Then we figure out how to get strong enough not to die."
I didn't argue. Not yet. Not when the weight of what we saw at the estate pressed down like a boulder on my chest.
Eve's voice cut through the quiet, calm, and infuriatingly emotionless."Warning: Entity detection has increased. Distance decreasing. Likelihood of engagement rising to 68%."
I froze mid-step. "Did it just… follow us?"
Nozomi's tail stiffened. "Yeah. And it's not running into traps or anything. It knows we're here."
We broke into a run, stumbling through roots and fallen branches. I could hear my own ragged breathing, could hear Nozomi's lighter steps keeping pace beside me. The forest felt endless. Every shadow seemed to stretch into something alive, eyes glowing just beyond perception.
And then I saw it.
A flicker, just at the edge of my vision — movement too fast for the human eye. It vanished before I could point it out. My stomach dropped. "It's… It's here."
Nozomi's ears pinched back. "How is that even possible? We're in the forest!"
"Not impossible," I panted. "But bad for us."
Eve interrupted again."Entity class: Unknown. Speed exceeds human and standard quirk thresholds. Recommendation: Avoid engagement."
Avoid engagement. Easier said than done. Every otaku instinct in me screamed to stop, to fight, to test ourselves. But I knew better. Not yet. Survival first.
We ducked into a small hollow between two giant oak trees, trying to catch our breath. The forest floor was damp, the smell of earth strong and grounding. For a brief moment, it felt almost… safe.
Almost.
A sound — like a whisper, or maybe a vibration — brushed against the hollow. Nozomi tensed, ready to pounce, tail stiff and bristling. I froze beside her.
"Eve… what is it doing?"
"Entity is observing," she said calmly. "It has not engaged. It is… waiting."
Waiting. That word made my stomach twist. This thing wasn't just strong. It was patient. Calculating. Predatory.
I pressed my back against the tree. "We need to keep moving. Even if it's just waiting… It's already made a choice."
Nozomi's eyes met mine, serious and sharp. "Yeah. And whatever choice it made… we're the target."
I didn't respond. There was nothing to say. Nothing that would make the truth less terrifying.
We ran again, shadows swallowing us, every step a fight against roots, branches, and our own pounding hearts.
And then, without warning, a scream pierced the night — not human, not fully—something high-pitched, unnatural, cutting through the dark like a knife.
Nozomi froze mid-stride, eyes wide. "That… that came from behind us."
I turned, heart in my throat. The moonlight revealed a flicker of movement — just for a moment — a shadow sliding along the trees, faster than we could run, faster than any human should be able to.
Eve's calm voice rang in my ears, but this time it felt like a death knell. "The entity is closing in. Immediate action required to preserve life."
I swallowed hard, gripping my bag strap. "Nozomi… this isn't a game anymore. If it catches us…"
She didn't need me to finish. Her jaw set, eyes blazing. "Then we survive. Together."
The forest seemed to shrink around us, every shadow a threat, every sound amplified. And in that instant, one thing was clear:
Whoever had been watching us… It wasn't done.
And for the first time, I realized we were running not just for survival… but for our lives.
...
We didn't stop running until the first hints of dawn streaked the sky, washing the forest in pale gold and gray. The shadows receded, but the fear clung to us like a second skin. My legs ached, muscles trembling, but I refused to sit down. Not yet.
Nozomi finally slowed beside me, chest heaving. "We can't keep running forever," she said, voice rough. "At some point, we need a plan."
I wiped sweat from my brow. "Yeah… but what plan do we even have against… that?" My fingers brushed against the edge of my phone. Eve's interface glowed faintly. "Eve, status?"
"Entity last detected at the perimeter of the forest. Likely still observing. Recommendations: Increase situational awareness and prepare defensive protocols."
I sighed, sinking against a tree. "It's stalking us, Nozomi. It's not just random. Whatever it is… it knows something."
Her tail flicked slowly, contemplative. "Whatever it knows and wants, we need to be ready."
I leaned back against the tree, staring at the slowly brightening sky. "Ready… but we don't even know where to start. Our quirks aren't fully trained, our bodies… our instincts are raw. And whatever that thing is… It's beyond anything we've faced."
A sudden rustle nearby made both of us snap our heads toward the sound. I could feel the hairs on my neck stand on end. Nozomi's ears twitched.
"Eve," I whispered, "scan immediately. Perimeter. Anything."
A soft hum emanated from the device. "Scanning… multiple heat signatures detected. Not humanoid. Distance decreasing. Unknown threat approaching from the east."
Nozomi's eyes narrowed. "East… the way we were planning to go ."
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration and fear colliding. "Great. Just… great."
The forest fell silent again, as if holding its breath. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to strike first. But I knew that wasn't an option. Not now.
"Hiro…" Nozomi's voice was low, cautious. "We need a strategy. Even a tiny one. Otherwise… we're walking into it blind."
I nodded slowly, chest tightening. "Okay… step one: we find a defensible position. Somewhere, it can't just rush us. Step two…" My mind raced, trying to formulate even a basic plan. "Step two: we figure out what we're dealing with. Observing from afar, gathering info. We can't fight it blind."
Nozomi let out a slow breath. "Step three… maybe we train. I mean, we're not going to get stronger just standing here."
I gave a dry laugh, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Yeah. Step three… Hope it doesn't catch us before then."
Another rustle, louder this time, came from the east. Something moved between the trees — fast, deliberate, calculating. The hair on my arms stood straight.
"Eve?" I asked sharply.
"Confirmed," the calm voice responded. "Approaching entity moving at a velocity exceeding human limits. Recommendation: take immediate cover and prepare evasion protocols."
I swallowed hard. Nozomi's hand brushed mine briefly, a silent reassurance. My stomach churned, and adrenaline flooded my veins.
"Together," I said, voice low.
"Together," she echoed.
The forest was no longer just a place we were running through. It had become a battlefield. Every shadow is a potential threat. Every sound is a warning.
And somewhere out there, in the thinning mist of dawn, our unknown pursuer was closing in.
I gritted my teeth. "Alright… let's see what we're really made of."
Nozomi's tails flicked once, sharply, and her eyes gleamed. "Let's."
And with that, we moved forward — hearts pounding, minds racing, knowing that the moment of truth was coming faster than we had ever imagined.
As we moved east, I could feel my heart pounding into my chest, threatening to jump out. I was still trying to figure out why this...thing was after us.
"The entity has entered the range of sight," Eve's stoic voice chimmed in, bringing me back to reality. I looked forward, trying to see through the morning dew. Before I could take another step forward. Nozomi grabbed me by the wrist.
Then—
I felt it. A gaze looked on me. The hair on my back stood as if electrified. The mist in front of us started to part way, as if not wanting to touch whatever was coming.
"Entity closing bzzzz. Cloaking disabled bzzzz." My screen started to short-circuit before going blank
"Good~ Now we have no more interferances~" I heard a distorted, old voice in my head. Just the sound made my head throb.
I looked forward to trying to see what was there. Then a shape shifted in the mist.
Not walking
Not running
Gliding
A silhouette tall enough to brush a branch overhead, yet impossibly thin — like its body didn't fully obey the laws of physics. The fog around it warped slightly, like it was bending the light.
I couldn't make out any features.
No eyes.No face.No mouth.
Just a vague, elongated outline… a humanoid shape shrouded in darkness, its edges flickering as if it wasn't completely there.
Nozomi trembled beside me, and that scared me more than anything. She never trembled.
"What… is that?" she breathed.
The figure paused. It tilted its head — or what looked like its head — ever so slightly. The gesture was too smooth, too controlled, too… curious.
Like it was studying us.
I felt something crawl across the back of my mind — a faint pressure, like fingers tapping lightly against my skull. Testing. Checking. Searching.
The entity didn't move closer. Didn't move away.
It just stood there. Watching.Observing.
Then—
A ripple passed through its body. Like static rolling through a bad TV signal. Its outline distorted for just a second… and in that glitch of movement, I saw something behind it.
Eyes.
Just two white, glowing spots.Far apart.Too far apart for anything human.
Then the spots vanished, swallowed by mist, as if they were never there.
Nozomi stepped back, foot brushing a leaf.
The sound — that one tiny sound — seemed to echo across the whole forest.
The entity responded.
Its head snapped toward us with unnatural speed. A jerky, stuttering motion — like something trying to mimic human movement but getting the timing all wrong.
My whole body locked up. Nozomi's nails dug into my arm.
"It's marking us," Nozomi's voice barely reached my ears. Her hand was trembling uncontrollably.
Marking? I didn't want to know what that meant.
The figure's body distorted again — then collapsed into itself, folding like a shadow being sucked downward.
And just like that…
It was gone.
The forest air returned. The birds began to chirp again. The sunlight broke through properly.
But the lingering chill in my bones didn't fade.
Nozomi swallowed hard. "It saw us. It really saw us."
I exhaled shakily. "And it wanted us to know."
Our eyes met.
And in that moment, we both understood the truth:
That thing wasn't just watching anymore.
It had chosen us.
And it would be back.
We didn't speak as we left the forest. The trees still loomed overhead, but the weight pressing on my chest had lifted slightly — only to be replaced with a sharp, gnawing tension.
Nozomi's ears flicked at every small sound. I could feel her body vibrating with restrained energy, ready to react to any threat. We both knew better than to talk. Words might give away our fear.
Eventually, we reached the safe house I had discovered earlier — a small, nondescript cabin tucked away at the edge of town. Dust covered the windows, and ivy crept along the sides, but the door opened easily, as if inviting us in.
"This will have to do for now," I muttered, stepping inside and surveying the interior. A thin layer of grime coated the floorboards, but it was solid, and more importantly, secure.
Nozomi exhaled, finally allowing herself to slump against the wall. "I hate that it feels… safe, but only because it's temporary."
I nodded. "Temporary, yes. But we can plan here. Train here. Figure out how to actually fight if that thing decides to… come back."
Her tail swished impatiently. "Training. Right. We need to get stronger. Not just a little stronger. Strong enough that next time we can actually… do something."
I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking. "We have a couple of advantages. Eve's tech, for one. Constant monitoring, simulations, and analysis of any enemy patterns we can find. And then… us. We're fast learners. We can adapt."
Nozomi perked up slightly. "Fast learners, huh? You mean… We'll be using our new abilities?"
I smirked. "And we'll be pushing the limits of… well, what we can do. Even if it means my arms feel like jelly for a week."
Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and determination. "Then it's settled. Training starts tomorrow. Right here. Right now, I guess… we prep mentally."
I raised an eyebrow. "Mentally?"
"Yeah." She sat cross-legged, tail curling around her. "We start with strategy, endurance, and observation. And Eve can simulate… stuff. Sort of a practice opponent."
I nodded slowly. "Good. And we need contingencies. Multiple ones. We can't rely on just one plan or hope we're lucky next time."
The first night in the cabin passed uneventfully. Too quiet, almost. But that was fine. We needed the calm before the storm — even if it was only a small reprieve.
Morning came with the creaking of floorboards as the sun filtered weakly through the grimy windows. Nozomi and I faced each other in the main room.
"First thing," I said, "we need to establish a routine. Strength, agility, combat awareness, and mental discipline. All four. Daily. No exceptions."
Nozomi nodded, and I caught a spark of humor in her expression. "Even if my brain hates me?"
"Especially if your brain hates you," I replied.
We started slow — stretching, calisthenics, running laps around the cabin perimeter. Eve projected a simulated opponent in the center of the room, a humanoid figure we could practice tracking and reacting to. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.
By the afternoon, our muscles screamed, our lungs burned, and yet, the progress was tangible. Nozomi's reflexes were sharper; I could feel my endurance building. Even Eve seemed impressed.
"Observation efficiency has increased by 12%," her calm voice reported. "Reaction times improved by 8%."
Nozomi let out a small laugh between breaths. "See? You're not the only one learning, smarty."
I grinned. "Fine, fine. You're catching up. But remember — this is only step one. Step two? Strategy. Step three? Power control. Step four? Actual combat simulations… if we survive that far."
The days blurred into one another. Routine became our anchor — stretching at dawn, simulation drills in the morning, endurance runs in the afternoon, and tactical analysis at dusk.
We discovered that the cabin, though small, had hidden potential. A back room with old wooden crates became a makeshift obstacle course. A hallway turned into a sprint track. Even the uneven floorboards were a chance to train balance.
And while physical strength grew, so did our mental bond. Conversations ranged from trivial jokes to deeper strategies. Nozomi's instincts complemented my planning, and slowly, we began to trust that synergy could be a weapon in itself.
One evening, as the sun bled orange through the windows, I sat across from her. "You know," I said, "we're still kids. But in here… I can almost forget that. Almost."
She smiled faintly. "Yeah… but not really. Because out there…" Her tail flicked. "It's waiting."
I exhaled. "Which is why we train. Which is why we get stronger. Which is why we don't stop until we're ready."
The night passed quietly again, though every creak of the old cabin was enough to make us jump. But with each passing day, the fear felt slightly more manageable. It was still there — a shadow lingering at the edge of everything we did — but training gave us purpose.
By the end of the first week, our bodies were aching, but our skills were sharpening. Eve began adjusting the simulations, increasing difficulty, adding variables we hadn't considered.
Nozomi executed a perfect dodge from a high-speed approach. I caught a thrown object mid-air — a minor victory, but significant.
Then, on the eighth night, Eve's alert system chimed softly.
"Surveillance update: Entity still active. Last recorded location: 3 kilometers from the current position. The behavior pattern indicates observation is ongoing. Threat level: undetermined, moderate caution advised."
I felt a shiver, but it wasn't panic this time. Nozomi's hand found mine.
"Moderate caution," I said. "We're ready for moderate caution."
She nodded. "We'll get stronger. One day… if it comes to us directly, it won't matter how big or mysterious it is."
Eve's soft glow bathed the cabin as we sat in silence. Outside, the wind rustled the trees, shadows danced faintly along the walls, and yet — for the first time since the forest — I felt something I hadn't felt in weeks: a small, stubborn flicker of confidence.
The entity might be out there. It might be patient, watching, calculating. But we were no longer just waiting. We were preparing.
And for the first time, I dared to believe… we might just be ready when it returns.
By the end of the second week at the cabin, the entity had faded from our immediate thoughts. Not that we were ignoring it — it simply wasn't pressing. Survival required focus, and training demanded every ounce of energy we had.
One morning, as Nozomi and I rested after a grueling endurance drill, the silence was broken by the soft chime of Mom's old phone — her way of reaching us when she couldn't find us in person.
"Mom…" I muttered, glancing at Nozomi. "We haven't exactly… kept her updated."
She winced. "Yeah. Not our finest move."
I picked up the call. "Hello?"
"Hiro? Nozomi?" Akihime's voice was warm, but there was a tension threading through it that immediately set my stomach on edge. "Where are you two? I've been calling nonstop. How could you have disappeared like that?"
Nozomi shifted beside me, our tail twitching nervously. "Uh… Mom…"
"Ignore me if I'm overreacting," Akihime continued, her voice shaking slightly now, "but… Hiro, Nozomi… are you safe? Have you… have you been taken? Did something happen?"
I froze, my tails slumping a little, realizing for the first time how little context Mom had. "No, Mom. We're… we're okay. We're just… away for a while."
There was a long pause. "Away?" Her voice wavered. "Without telling me? You two just vanish, and I'm supposed to… what? Sit at home worrying myself sick?"
Nozomi finally spoke, her tone softer than usual. "Mom, we didn't mean to worry you. We just… needed some time to train. To… figure things out."
"Train?" Akihime's words were incredulous. "Train? What are you even talking about? You're kids! You can't just… train like… like some heroes in a comic book. You could get hurt, or worse!"
I swallowed hard, realizing how utterly our world must sound to her. "I know it sounds crazy, Mom. But we're trying to get stronger. For ourselves… and for you. For everyone we care about."
There was silence on the line, heavy and loaded. I could practically feel her heart hammering through the phone.
Finally, she spoke, softer this time. "Hiro… Nozomi… I just… I can't… I… I was so worried. I called the police, but nothing is working. Even Eve was disconnected from the lab… I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to you."
Nozomi's tail curled around her arm. "We're sorry, Mom. We didn't want to scare you. But we need this. We have to be ready for… whatever might come."
Akihime drew a shaky breath. "Whatever might come? You're talking in riddles, kids. I don't understand half of what you're saying. But… if this is what you feel you need to do, then… I… I suppose I can't stop you. Just… promise me one thing."
I leaned forward. "Anything."
"Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't do anything reckless. And promise me you'll… check in, sometimes. Let me know you're alive." I could practically hear the tears rolling out of her eyes.
Nozomi's ears twitched, a small smile breaking through her anxious expression. "We can do that, Mom. Promise."
"And…"
"Call me before disappearing next time?" I added, trying to lighten the mood.
There was a small laugh on the other end — shaky, but real. "I'll hold you to that, Hiro. You better not make me panic again."
We ended the call with relief, though the knot in my chest didn't fully disappear. Mom was the anchor we had left behind — the one piece of normalcy in this chaotic world. Knowing she was worried, knowing she loved us, made me even more determined to succeed.
Nozomi leaned back against the wall, letting out a long sigh. "Well… that was emotional."
I nodded. "Yeah. Makes you realize how small we still are, huh? All the planning, the training… and Mom's out there worrying like it's her job."
"It is her job," she muttered with a faint grin. "Even if she's not the one swinging punches."
I smirked. "Exactly. We handle the fighting, she handles the worrying. Fair division of labor."
She rolled her eyes, but the tension had lifted. For now, at least, the focus was on something manageable: us, our growth, and the promise we had made.
That afternoon, we resumed our training with renewed focus. The exhaustion still hit hard, but with Mom's voice lingering in our minds, every push-up, every sprint, every calculated dodge became a promise we couldn't break.
By the end of the week, our bodies and minds were adapting. We were no longer just reacting — we were thinking ahead, improvising, and growing. Our synergy as a team began to feel natural.
Nozomi nudged me during a sparring session. "You know… Mom worries, but I think she's proud too. Even if she doesn't understand half of what we're doing."
I paused mid-roll, catching my breath. "Yeah. I think she is. And honestly… that's enough sometimes. That little bit of pride… it keeps us going."
The cabin was quiet, the shadows stretching longer as the sun dipped lower. Outside, life carried on as if nothing had changed. But inside, something was shifting. Not just our muscles or reflexes, but our resolve, our connection, and our understanding that growth wasn't just about fighting the unknown — it was about surviving the very human fears that came with it.
For the first time in days, I allowed myself to smile. We weren't ready for everything, not by a long shot. But with each day, each training session, and each promise to Mom, we were carving a path toward the strength we knew we would need.
And while the entity had faded from our minds, we weren't foolish enough to forget it entirely. It was out there somewhere, waiting. But for now… we had each other, and that was more than enough to focus on.
Days bled into weeks. Weeks slipped into months. Months quietly stacked into years.
Fourteen.
We were just fourteen.
But survival had aged us far beyond that.
Wake up. Eat. Train. Rest. Hunt. Train again. Sleep.Repeat until your bones ached and your soul sharpened.
The forest had become our world, the cabin our fortress, and the backyard our battlefield.
And today… was sparring day.
The sun hung low, dripping orange light across the clearing. Leaves rustled in a lazy breeze. Birds quieted, knowing what came next.
Nozomi cracked her knuckles. "Ready?"
My claws slid out as an answer.
Fangs of the Soul.
PHWOOOM—
Purple, soul-infused energy flared across my arms, forming razor-sharp spectral claws. I didn't wait. I lunged.
My feet shattered the dirt beneath me as I launched forward.
Nozomi reacted instantly.
Divine Silhouette.
Her body flickered — then split.One Nozomi became six, each clone a perfect illusion with muted heartbeat, faint warmth, and slightly off timing.
But the smell…The scent of the real one was unmistakable.
I darted left — claws slashing through her—
Only for her body to dissolve into shimmering dust.
Her scent shifted.
I spun around to find the real Nozomi in the center of her clones, lips curled smugly.
"Nice," I admitted, grin sharpening.
"Thanks," she replied, golden eyes gleaming. "Don't hold back."
"You started it."
I raised my hand.
Feral Torrent.
The air vibrated.
Silver bullets — dozens of them — formed overhead, spinning with predatory hunger. With a snap of my fingers, they rained down.
The clones danced through the first volley. Their movements were decent… but lacked her instincts. Her rhythm. Her soul.
One by one, they dissolved into silver smoke.
The last bullets streaked toward the real Nozomi—
Celestial Weave.
Golden ribbons unfurled behind her like divine wings. They lashed out in a beautiful, fluid storm — each strike precise enough to slice falling leaves into symmetrical halves.
The bullets vanished the second they touched the ribbons.
I brushed a thumb across my nose. "Careful. If you keep fighting like that, people might think you're a long-range fighter."
"Nothing wrong with deception." She winked. "That's part of combat."
I tilted my head slightly, noticing the sun beginning to sink behind the treeline.
"Let's end this," I said. "We still have to hunt."
Her smile softened — then sharpened again.
We both crouched.
Then—
PRIMAL OBLIVION: RAGNAROK DRIVE.
Silver exploded around me — wild, feral, unrestrained. My aura rippled like a beast ripping through its cage. The ground beneath my feet cracked.
My heartbeat pounded like war drums.
Opposite me, Nozomi rose into the air.
DIVINE ASCENSION: AMATERASU BLOOM.
Golden petals spiraled around her in a slow, elegant cascade. Her tails split into glowing afterimages — creating the silhouette of a massive celestial fox behind her. Divine pressure filled the clearing, warm and crushing all at once.
She floated.I crouched.
Predator and goddess.
The wind held its breath.
Then—
We moved.
I blasted forward, the world tearing into white shockwaves behind me. Nozomi raised her palm, golden light forming a shield as I struck.
BOOOOOOM!
Purple and gold erupted skyward, lighting up the forest.
I unleashed a rapid, wild barrage — claws slashing in unpredictable, feral arcs. Every strike sent shockwaves through the air, each creating a crater in the dirt.
But Nozomi's celestial weaving was faster.
Cleaner.Sharper.Deadlier.
Golden ribbons snapped at my ankles, wrists, and shoulders — restricting movement just enough to throw off my rhythm.
My attacks grew desperate, wild, roaring with soul-flux. Hers remained calm, calculated, godlike.
I pushed harder.She pushed back.
She condensed mana in her left hand — her right controlling the ribbons binding my path. I caught the shift too late.
Her eyes glowed like twin suns.
Radiant Lance.
A beam of pure gold shot past me — slicing a streak of purple from my hair as it missed my head by centimeters.
The ribbons dropped.
The petals faded.
Her aura folded back into her body as she landed softly on the ground.
"That's match," she declared.
I exhaled, letting my own soul-flux retract. "159 fights… How's the record looking now?"
"No ties today." She stretched proudly. "108 draws, 25 wins for you, and 26 wins for m—"
Tap.
Her entire body stiffened as a hand touched her shoulder.
Her eyes widened.Her tails flared instinctively.She spun mid-air, conjuring a spear of divine light—
Only for her breath to hitch when she saw me standing behind her.
"What—? But you were—"
I flicked her forehead lightly. "Shadow Slip. New trick."
She blinked, stunned.
Then I grinned. "Looks like it's 26–26."
Her jaw dropped.
Then she groaned dramatically. "I hate you."
"Nah," I smirked, walking past her. "You love me."
"…Shut up."
But she laughed anyway.
And the clearing — for a moment — felt like home.
After an evening of hunting, we sat down for dinner as usual. Checking the news and updates in a comfortable silence.
"Hiro," Nozomi called out, breaking the silence. "I think this cabin has served its purpose. We should move."
I looked up at her, only to be met by her resolute face. I looked back at my phone. "I am okay with it. And besides, according to my knowledge, it's almost time."
Nozomi nodded, though I couldn't see it. "UA, huh." Then she smirked. "You'd better be ready."
I also smirked, but kept my eyes on the screen. I hope we didn't miss the main plot. And I really hope Momo will be there.
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Hello again, author, I am trying to write 5k words or so, so stay tuned. Also, if any of you are wondering what soul-flux is. It's like aura in every sense, but only the twins will be able to use it, due to their linked souls.