*The Blackfall Sonata***
Bungo stared at the figure standing at the entrance—
the silver-eyed noble whose very presence felt like a cold hand closing around his throat.
**Soren Blackfall.**
His cloak fluttered in the night wind, embroidered with thin, dark glyphs shaped like musical notes drowning in ink. His posture was calm—too calm—as if he were used to being the most dangerous creature in any room.
Bungo's heartbeat roared in his ears.
A pulse.
A rhythm.
Kairo's rhythm.
He rose slowly from the tiles, fists clenched, steps steady despite the tremble in his chest.
"What do you want?" Bungo asked, voice lower than he expected—sharper, stronger.
Soren walked forward.
Each of his steps struck the rooftop with eerie precision.
*tok—tok—tok.*
Every tap echoed like a metronome counting down the seconds of someone's life.
"I've come," he said, "to confirm a rumor."
He lifted his chin slightly, studying Bungo's form like an instructor examining an instrument.
"They said a common orphan awakened **Soulbeat Resonance**."
His smile sharpened.
"And that the rhythm inside him doesn't belong to him."
The wind tightened around Bungo like a string pulled to snapping point.
He felt the vibration inside his chest—
Kairo's heartbeat, pushing warmth into his veins.
"Why did you kill him?" Bungo asked, voice trembling but firm.
Soren's expression didn't change—
not even a flicker of remorse.
"He was an inconvenience."
The rooftop fell silent.
No birds.
No wind.
Just those three words echoing like a blade scraping across stone.
He continued, "A bastard born from my father's mistake. A stain on my lineage. Letting him live would have complicated matters."
Bungo's breath trembled, not from fear—
from **rage**.
Soren's eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"And I must admit… I'm intrigued that his dying pulse chose you. Of all gutter children it could have attached itself to, it picked you."
He tilted his head.
"Almost poetic."
Bungo's fists tightened until his knuckles cracked.
A faint pulse of golden light slipped between his fingers.
Soren noticed.
His smile widened.
"Ah. So it's true."
---
### **The First Strike**
Soren snapped his fingers.
The sound was soft—
yet the air around him *rippled* violently, warping like heat haze.
A translucent, blade-shaped wave of sound shot toward Bungo.
*VREEEN—*
Bungo barely threw himself aside before it sliced across the tiles—leaving a perfectly smooth cut where stone had been.
He hit the ground hard, breath knocked from him.
Soren's voice floated through the shimmering air.
"Don't worry. If I wanted you dead, I would've ended this already."
He stepped forward slowly, casually.
"I simply want to observe how much of *Kairo* is inside you."
That name on Soren's tongue felt like poison.
Something inside Bungo snapped.
---
### **The Resonance Awakens**
A pulse.
A beat.
A vibration.
It surged up his spine, flooding his limbs with heat.
His vision blurred, then sharpened—colors deepening, shadows brightening, the world moving with impossible clarity. He could feel every sound around him—
the flutter of moth wings,
the hum of streetlamps far below,
the pulse of Soren's heart.
His own heartbeat aligned with one that wasn't his.
*Kairo's.*
The rooftop vibrated faintly under his bare feet as golden threads of light spiraled around his ankles.
Soren raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting."
Bungo stood.
He didn't feel fear anymore.
He felt rhythm.
He stepped once—
light exploding under his foot.
Soren's eyes widened the slightest bit before Bungo vanished from sight in a blur.
He reappeared behind Soren with a spinning heel-kick aimed at the back of his skull—
a move from their street battles in Greyline City.
The air cracked.
Soren barely tilted his head aside—
the kick slicing a strand of his hair instead of his throat.
Bungo landed lightly, slide-stopping across the tiles.
Soren touched the clipped hair between his fingers, staring.
"Street technique… amplified by resonance," he murmured.
"Fascinating."
He turned his gaze back toward Bungo—
his silver eyes glowing.
"Do it again."
This time *he* moved.
---
### **Clash of Rhythm and Silence**
Soren's motion was fluid like a conductor raising his baton.
Each gesture left behind faint trails of silver soundline.
He slashed the air—
a blade of silent shock ripped forward.
Bungo countered instinctively—
spinning, stepping, letting Kairo's rhythm guide him.
The shockwave grazed his shoulder—
a slicing sting, warm blood trickling.
He winced.
Soren inhaled sharply, delighted.
"Yes. Yes! That's it. Show me more."
"You killed him," Bungo growled, voice shaking.
"You murdered Kairo just to protect your title—your pride."
Soren shrugged.
"I did what was necessary."
He flicked a finger, releasing another silent strike.
"And I'll do it again."
Bungo dodged.
Barely.
"Kairo's rhythm belongs to me now," he said through clenched teeth.
"And I will use it to end you."
Soren's grin turned cold.
"Oh? Then let me hear it."
---
### **The Dance of Vengeance**
The night erupted with motion.
Bungo moved like a storm—
every step a percussion hit,
every twist a drumroll,
every kick a devastating downbeat.
The tiles splintered under his strikes, sending debris into the wind.
Soren countered with elegant, cruel precision—
soundblades slicing through the air,
shockwaves bending the rooftop,
silent bursts that warped reality.
It was rhythm versus silence.
Soulbeat versus nobleborn sorcery.
Raw emotion versus calculated cruelty.
For a moment—
just a moment—
Bungo pushed Soren back half a step.
The noble's smile faded.
He touched the small cut on his cheek.
"You drew blood," he said softly.
"…How troublesome."
His fingers curled.
A dark hum rolled through the rooftop, heavy and suffocating.
Bungo's spine locked.
"What is that…?"
Soren closed his eyes.
When he opened them—
they were black.
Void-like.
Empty.
"This," he whispered,
"is the **Blackfall Sonata**."
The air cracked like a breaking instrument.
Bungo's vision blurred—
the rooftop melting into swirling darkness—
Soren's voice echoing from everywhere at once.
"You are not ready for the power you carry."
Bungo fell to one knee.
"But don't worry, dancer."
Soren's hand extended toward him.
"I'll make sure you never get the chance to use it."