Tokyo, 5:12 a.m.
The city was a hushed labyrinth of empty neon and dew-soaked silence. Even the convenience stores, usually beacons of sleepless energy, seemed to yawn and blink drowsily, their automatic doors opening and closing with the sluggishness of a dream.
Hikaru Saeba tore down the deserted street, sneakers smacking the pavement. His lungs burned, and each frantic heartbeat seemed to pound louder than the whir of vending machines lining the sidewalk. Most students his age might be panicking over a forgotten math test at this hour. Not Hikaru. No, his pre-dawn crisis was far more terrifying.
He cast a wild glance over his shoulder. "This can't be happening," he muttered, sweat stinging his eyes.
"I'm not even awake yet, how is this thing already after me?"
Behind him, something enormous and misshapen barreled into a row of vending machines. The metallic crash sent a confetti of soda cans bouncing across the street.
A Reborn, a creature mangled by twisted soul energy, half-human, half-nightmare, all malice, emerged from the debris, its howl so powerful the neon signs above flickered in protest.
Hikaru stumbled to a stop, chest heaving. For a split second, he tried to remember his training, the handful of drills, the scattered pep talks, the months of dreaming he'd be ready for this.
"Okay… okay, Hikaru, you can do this. You trained for this. Sort of. Once. In a simulation. Briefly." His voice wobbled as he tried to convince himself.
The Reborn's eyes locked onto him, a sickly light smoldering in their depths. It lunged, impossibly fast for something so massive.
Hikaru squeezed his eyes shut, instinct overriding reason. "Kage-Utsuro, awaken!" he shouted, his voice cracking like a whip.
The world snapped and twisted. An eruption of black light burst from his palm, painting the asphalt with writhing shadows. From the ground, his own darkness rose up, thick and liquid, coiling and merging into the form of a gigantic, curved blade. The weapon pulsed, humming with a dangerous, hungry energy.
Inside his mind, a cold, sibilant voice whispered, hungry and eager: Feed me…
"Not now!" Hikaru hissed, clutching the blade. He could feel its hunger, like a second heartbeat pounding alongside his own.
The Reborn didn't hesitate. It charged again, mouth splitting into a snarl. Hikaru swung the blade, and a jet of shadow exploded outward, slamming into the monster's chest. The force hurled it backward, sending an empty taxi tumbling down the street like a toy.
Hikaru stared at his hands, half-expecting them to be burned or broken. Instead, they just trembled. "Did I just… do that?" His disbelief was almost comical, he'd seen power before, but never felt it flood through him so completely.
A low moan echoed from the wrecked taxi. The Reborn was already getting up, shards of glass falling from its body. Its blood-red gaze locked onto him, burning brighter than before.
Hikaru swallowed. "Oh, come on! Why do you keep leveling up like you're the final boss? I'm supposed to be the protagonist here!"
The monster roared and leapt. This time, Hikaru didn't think, he reacted. The blade moved on its own, slashing upward. Shadows snaked out, multiplying and thickening, lashing around the creature's limbs. Black tendrils pinned it to the pavement, writhing and tightening with each feeble attempt it made to break free.
For a precious second, Hikaru dared to hope he'd won. Then,
"Saeba! You reckless idiot! You're not cleared to use your Armament solo!"
The shout was sharp as a slap. Hikaru spun around. Ria Kusanagi stood at the end of the block, her red G.A.R.I uniform immaculate despite the chaos. Her hair was tied back in a severe ponytail, and her gaze could have cut steel.
Ria: top of the class, best fighter in their year, with a reputation for following the rules so strictly she might as well have written them herself. She walked toward him, exuding an aura of unyielding authority.
"I wasn't using it!" Hikaru stammered, trying to hide the still-glowing blade behind his back. His confidence shriveled under her glare.
She pointed past him, eyebrows raised.
"Really? Because that wailing abomination behind you says otherwise."
Hikaru risked a glance over his shoulder. The Reborn was still thrashing, shadows tightening and slackening with each struggle.
"…Okay, maybe it's sort of using itself," he admitted.
The creature shrieked, voice warping with pain and rage.
Ria just sighed, drawing her katana with the ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times. The blade caught the rising sun, flaring with a crimson glow pure Genso energy, raw and focused. She looked at Hikaru, eyes narrowing. "Move. Unless you want us both to be monster chow."
Hikaru shuffled aside, muttering, "Why does my life always turn into a disaster movie before breakfast…?"
Ria didn't answer. She stepped forward, energy radiating from her like a shield, her presence suddenly dwarfing even the Reborn's. With a single, fluid motion, she raised her blade, and the air itself seemed to shimmer.
"Because, genius," she said, her voice calm and cold as steel, "you signed up for G.A.R.I. You wanted to be a hero. Welcome to the job."