The laughter spread quietly.
Not loud.
Not chaotic.
Worse.
Controlled.
Haruka stood in the center of the training field, dust settling around his feet. The air still carried the faint pressure of mana, disturbed from the clash that had just ended—but only one side had truly fought.
His opponent had already stepped back, rolling his shoulders like the fight had been nothing more than a warm-up.
The instructor didn't even bother looking at him.
"Match over. Next."
That was it.
No criticism.
No praise.
Like he didn't matter.
"…He didn't even land anything."
"Why is he even in this class?"
"J-rank… makes sense."
The whispers weren't hidden.
They weren't meant to be.
Haruka's fingers twitched slightly at his side.
Not in anger.
Not in fear.
Restraint.
His eyes lowered for a second.
Just a second.
I could've ended that.
The thought came naturally.
Too naturally.
One move… maybe two.
His jaw tightened.
…so why didn't I?
Silence filled his head.
Then—
"…because I know what happens when I stop holding back."
A faint breath escaped him.
He turned.
Walked back to his place.
No reaction.
No defense.
Because explaining it would be pointless.
"Yo."
A voice cut through the tension—casual, almost bored.
Saito.
Leaning against the railing like he'd been watching the whole time, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded but sharp underneath.
"…you didn't lose."
Haruka stopped.
Not fully.
Just enough.
Saito tilted his head slightly.
"…but you didn't win either."
A pause.
"…so what was that?"
No mockery.
No pity.
Just observation.
Haruka didn't answer.
Saito exhaled softly, pushing himself off the railing.
"You're holding back."
Simple.
Direct.
"Not like a coward…"
He added, stepping closer.
"…more like someone who already knows the ending."
That—
Landed.
Haruka's gaze shifted slightly.
"…you talk too much."
Saito smirked faintly.
"And you fight too little."
A beat.
"…just don't drag the class down with whatever you're hiding."
Not cruel.
Not kind.
Just honest.
Saito walked past him without waiting for a reply.
And for some reason—
That bothered Haruka more than the whispers.
Yume noticed.
Of course she did.
"Haruka."
Her voice was softer than the others.
Real.
He didn't look at her.
"You're not fighting like before."
A pause.
"…What happened?"
He stopped for half a second.
That was all.
"…Nothing."
A lie.
Simple.
Clean.
And he hated it.
Because she didn't deserve that answer.
But he couldn't give her the truth either.
Not when even he didn't fully understand it.
Not when part of him…
Didn't want to.
Night fell quietly.
The J-class dorm stood silent, lights flickering in scattered rooms, conversations fading into the distance.
The rooftop door creaked open.
Haruka stepped out.
Alone.
The cold air hit his face, but he didn't react.
Didn't even blink.
He walked to the edge.
Sat down.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then—
His fist tightened.
And he drove it into his own shoulder.
A dull impact.
Again.
And again.
Each hit is sharper.
Heavier.
"…Why…"
Another punch.
"…did I hesitate…"
Another.
"…why did I hold back…"
His breathing grew uneven.
Not from pain.
From frustration.
"…I'm not weak."
His voice cracked slightly.
"I know I'm not."
Silence.
His hand trembled.
"…so why…"
He stopped.
Mid-motion.
Because the answer was already there.
Because you've seen it.
A flicker.
A memory.
Distorted.
Violent.
Uncontrolled.
Power unleashed—
Too much.
Too fast.
A body—
Falling.
Still.
His fist slowly dropped.
"…I don't trust myself."
The words barely came out.
And for a moment—
That was the most honest thing he had said all day.
"…Good."
A voice cut through the silence.
Haruka's head snapped up.
A figure stood near the far end of the rooftop.
Still.
Watching.
Plague-like mask.
Black attire.
Unmoving presence.
Haruka's eyes narrowed.
"…Rideous P."
The figure tilted its head slightly.
"…No."
A step forward.
Slow.
Measured.
"I am not Rideous P."
The air shifted.
Heavier.
Sharper.
"I am Wrath."
A pause.
"…Ratheres W."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Haruka didn't stand.
Didn't panic.
"…You again."
Wrath observed him quietly.
Then—
"You restrain yourself."
Not a question.
A statement.
Haruka didn't answer.
"Strength is not your problem."
A step closer.
"Control is."
That—
Hit.
Haruka's gaze hardened slightly.
"…You talk like you know me."
"I don't need to know you."
Wrath replied calmly.
"I only need to see what you refuse to use."
A pause.
Then—
The world shifted.
The rooftop vanished.
Replaced.
"…This again."
Haruka stood still, eyes scanning the space around him.
Endless.
Above him—
Weapons.
Countless.
Floating.
Watching.
Blades.
Spears.
Forms that didn't belong to any world he knew.
Some looked ancient.
Some looked… alive.
"This is not a dream."
Wrath's voice echoed.
"It is a layer between existence—where power exists before it is claimed."
Haruka didn't speak.
But he listened.
"The system you stand within…"
Wrath continued,
"…is governed by the Council."
The weapons trembled faintly.
"Think of it simply."
"Four pillars that balance all power."
"Sertox."
The air grew heavy.
"The domain of sin."
Shadows formed.
Seven.
Then—
An eighth presence.
"These are not emotions."
Wrath said.
"They are laws."
"Each sin grants an Art."
"An ability that bends reality in a specific way."
"Pride."
Pressure descended instantly.
"The Art of Pride."
"You do not grow."
"You dominate."
"The moment you understand your opponent…"
"You rise above them."
"It's not that you will adapt, you will automatically grow more powerful, and the more you fight the opponent, the more you will be stronger than them."
"Greed."
A pull formed.
"The Art of Never-ending need."
"Mana does not run out."
"As long as desire exists, power follows. Not only mana, but the same also goes for stamina or any other power, even wisdom."
"Gluttony."
Space warped slightly.
"The Art of Consumption."
"You may take power…"
"From other versions of yourself."
"Across timelines. Across worlds."
A pause.
"…if your body endures it."
"Sloth."
Everything slowed.
"The Art of Sloth."
"You may rewind your own state. It's more like running away and choosing a simpler way."
"Injuries. Position. Time—limited to yourself. You can heal yourself. Imagine you are stabbed, or your bones are broken, you can rewind yourself to the moment before the injury happened. Your body cells get rewinded to that state. About "position," imagine you got knocked 10 meters back, you dodged too late, or you stepped into a bad spot, you can rewind yourself to where you were a few seconds ago. Each step you leave is a checkpoint. And time, which is limited to only yourself, imagine your enemy hit you, so you redo the time of a certain radius where it happened, everything inside of it rewinds, but they remember that they hit you once, the enemy might be off balance, and you gain an advantage."
"Envy."
Darkness crept along the ground.
"The Art of Perception."
"You can steal senses."
"Vision. Awareness."
"Or erase the power of them that makes you jealous/envious."
"Wrath."
The air cracked sharply.
"The Art of Summoning."
A weapon flickered beside Haruka.
Incomplete.
Unstable.
"You create weapons from your essence. Or you can simply summon a weapon that you can see here and make it yours, endless weapons, weapons that the humans created throughout history."
"And…"
A pause.
"The Art of Suffering."
Reality bent.
A pressure—intense, suffocating—wrapped around him for a brief moment.
Then vanished.
"A domain where pain becomes absolute. It will tear you off, heal you again, break you, and fix you."
Silence.
"And finally…"
"Lust."
Nothing appeared.
"Unfortunately, she is sealed."
A pause.
"Endless regeneration. Endless blood. Endless skin and endless healing."
Wrath's voice lowered.
"…unless the core is destroyed. Which is... Your brain."
Silence.
"Do not seek it. She is sealed for a reason."
The shadows faded.
"Next—Vertox."
The air softened.
"The domain of virtue."
A calm presence spread.
"They do not overpower."
"They stabilize."
"Their leader—Patience."
Clarity filled the space.
"The Art of Understanding."
"You see beyond a single moment."
"Timelines."
"Possibilities."
"Solutions."
Haruka's eyes sharpened slightly.
"…Chrono Split."
Wrath glanced at him.
"…a fragment. The eye you are using and calling Chrono split is not fully completed yet."
A pause.
"Sintox."
"The corruption within good."
"Vintox."
"The purity within evil."
Wrath turned slightly.
"Unstable forces."
"Not yet within your reach."
Silence.
Then—
"The Council…"
Wrath began.
"…governs all four."
A pause.
"They do not rule by strength alone."
"They maintain balance."
Another pause.
"…Above all…"
A brief hesitation.
"…stands someone like you—"
He stopped.
Coughed.
"…I mean…"
A shift.
"The Council Leader."
"The Council Leader has all the powers of Sertox, Vertox, Sintox and Vintox."
Haruka didn't question it.
But he didn't forget it either.
The weapons above trembled.
"You hesitate."
Wrath said quietly.
Haruka's jaw tightened.
"…I choose when to act."
"No."
Wrath's voice cut through everything.
"You fear what happens when you don't."
Silence.
That—
Was the truth.
Haruka looked up.
At the endless weapons.
"…If I stop holding back…"
His voice lowered.
"…I don't know what I'll become."
For the first time—
Wrath didn't respond immediately.
Then—
"…That is why you were brought here."
The world began to collapse.
"You are not weak."
Everything faded.
"You are unfinished."
Darkness swallowed everything.
…
Haruka's eyes opened.
Back on the rooftop.
Cold air.
Silent night.
Nothing had changed.
But—
His hand moved slightly.
A flicker.
A weapon almost formed.
Then disappeared.
Haruka slowly stood.
This time—
His eyes weren't empty.
They were focused.
"…I'm not weak."
A pause.
"…I just don't trust what happens when I'm not."
The wind passed.
And somewhere deep within—
Something had begun to wake.