The training session had finally ended, and the recruits were given a short break. Renjiro, feeling exhausted and frustrated after his failed attempts to infuse Lumina energy, found a spot under the shade of a tree. He slumped against the trunk, staring at his hands, barely producing a flicker of energy. The academy grounds bustled with recruits sparring and chatting, but Renjiro’s mind was elsewhere, clouded by doubt.

Taro plopped down beside him, tearing into a chunk of bread. He glanced over, noticing the look on Renjiro’s face. “You looked pretty upset back there. What’s going on?” he asked between bites.

Renjiro sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t do it, Taro. I couldn’t infuse Lumina into my hands. Everyone else hit their target so easily—even Emi managed to move her dummy. But I couldn’t.”

Taro paused mid-chew, then grinned. “You’re overthinking it. I imagine someone trying to steal my food when I do it.”

Renjiro blinked, confused. “Your food?”

“Yeah!” Taro said, waving his bread with enthusiasm. “Imagine something that matters to you. You’d get serious real quick if someone tried to take it, right? That’s how I channel the energy. Maybe you just need to focus on something you’d protect at all costs.”

Renjiro frowned, his mind drifting to his village and the loss still gnawed at him. The image of his home in flames flashed across his thoughts, stirring anger and sorrow, but he kept it buried beneath the surface. “That’s… different. Why did you join the Academy, anyway?”

Taro chuckled, taking another big bite of bread. “Well, my parents sent me here hoping I’d ‘toughen up’ or, you know, lose some weight. They think I’m soft or something. But I’m nice and medium, thank you very much.” He gave his stomach a playful pat and grinned.

“They think I’m just a spoiled noble kid who knows nothing about hard work. But I’m here to show them I’m not a softy,” he said. “I can keep up with anyone here. You wait, Renjiro.”

Renjiro raised an eyebrow, “Your parents are nobles?”

Taro shrugged. “Yeah, they’re from the nobility side of Azeron. Nothing fancy, though. They just want me to stop goofing off all the time. But I’m here to prove something, you know? To them—and myself. I'm going to become a great warrior just like Captain Rei!”

Renjiro nodded slowly, sensing the depth beneath Taro’s easygoing demeanour. “I guess everyone has their reasons.”

His gaze shifted to Emi, quietly listening, scribbling something in her notebook. “What about you, Emi? Why did you join?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly on her notebook. “Um… it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Taro leaned forward, grinning. “Come on! It can’t be worse than me being sent here to ‘get tough.’ Spill it.”

Emi fidgeted, avoiding their gazes. “I… applied for the wrong program."

Renjiro blinked. “The wrong program?”

Emi nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I thought I was applying to the researchers’ division. I wanted to study Lumina energy, not… this.” She gestured vaguely toward the training grounds. “But by the time I realized my mistake, it was too late. And… I didn’t want to quit.”

Taro burst into laughter, nearly choking on his bread. “You’re telling me you ended up in the recruits because of a paperwork mix-up? That’s incredible!”

Emi glared at him, her usual shyness briefly overtaken by annoyance. “It’s not funny! I… I wanted to learn about Lumina Energy and understand it better. I thought being a scholar would help me do that. But now…” Her voice softened. “I guess I’m learning about it differently.”

Renjiro gave her a small, encouraging smile. “That’s still pretty brave, Emi. Most people wouldn’t stick it out if it weren’t what they wanted.”

Before Emi could respond, a new voice cut through the conversation. “She’s right to stick it out.”

The group turned to see Tarek from Squad Mist standing nearby; his arms crossed and an almost smug expression on his face. His black silk hair was tied into a neat bun, a few loose strands framing the sharp angles of his face, while thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. 

“If you’re here, it’s for a reason. Even if you don’t know what it is yet.”

Taro groaned. “Oh great, it’s Professor Tarek. Here to lecture us about Lumina?”

Taro knew Tarek. They both came from the same noble district of Azeron.

Tarek ignored him, stepping closer. “Your Spiral will determine how you control Lumina energy. It’s not something you choose—it’s part of who you are.”

“Spirals? Like what Commander Thalor was talking about?” Renjiro asked, frowning.

Tarek smirked slightly. “You don’t know? Typical. There are three types: Animal, Mystical, and Abnormal. Your Spiral reflects your essence, strengths, and sometimes even flaws.”

“I’d guess something like a mole or badger— grounded and slow to act. Makes sense, considering how you’ve been struggling.”

Renjiro blinked, “A… mole?”

Taro snickered. “Oh, come on, Tarek. If we’re guessing Spirals, I’ve got a better one for Renjiro: a turtle. Slow start, but maybe you’ll get there eventually.”

Renjiro gave him a flat look, but Taro only grinned.

“What about you, then?” Renjiro shot back, “What’s your Spiral, Taro?”

Taro puffed out his chest dramatically. “Obviously, I’d be something awesome. Like a lion. You know—big and commanding.” He struck a mock pose, earning an eye roll from Tarek.

“Lion?” Tarek said dryly. “More like a… panda. Only motivated by food.”

Taro gasped in mock outrage. “How dare you! Pandas are majestic creatures. I’ll take it.”

Renjiro managed a small laugh, but his attention turned to Emi, who had been watching quietly. “What about you, Emi? What do you think your Spiral would be?”

She hesitated, her fingers curling around her notebook. “I… don’t know. Maybe something small? Like a sparrow?"

Taro shook his head. “Nah, Emi. You’re more like… a fox. Quiet, smart, and always thinking. Right, Renjiro?”

Renjiro glanced at Emi, noting how she blushed slightly at the compliment. “Yeah. A fox fits.”

“What about Tarek?” Taro added, smirking. “Let me guess—an owl? Always watching and thinking you’re smarter than everyone else?”

Tarek raised an eyebrow, his expression unamused. “If I were to guess my Spiral, it wouldn’t be something as trivial as that. It would be something precise and calculated. A falcon, perhaps.”

Taro groaned. “Oh, of course. Something serious. Lighten up.” 

“And what about Harrasien?” Emi asked quietly, steering the conversation back to Tarek’s earlier point. 

Tarek’s expression turned serious. “Harrasien is something else entirely. It’s not just about mastering your Spiral—it’s about mastering yourself. Physically, mentally, spiritually. Only a handful of people ever achieve it. Commander Thalor, Captain Rei… they’ve reached that level. For the rest of us, it’s a long way off.”

Taro snorted. “Sounds exhausting.”

Tarek shot him a withering look. “It’s why people like you will never achieve it.”

Renjiro frowned, mulling over Tarek’s words. “So… we’re all supposed to figure out our Spirals eventually?”

Tarek nodded. “Exactly. It takes time, though. Don’t expect to wake up one day and just know. And don’t be surprised if it’s not what you expect.”

With that, Tarek turned and left the group in thoughtful silence.

Renjiro’s eyes wandered across the training grounds. He spotted Yumeru sitting alone near the edge of the camp; her expression was distant, almost unreadable.

“Who is she?” Renjiro asked, 

Taro glanced over, following Renjiro’s gaze. “Yumeru? Some recruits say she came from one of the captured Red Clan bases. You know, where they take prisoners. People who return from places like that… they’re not the same.”

“Is that true?” Renjiro asked.

“Who knows? She doesn’t talk about it. But she doesn’t seem like the type who’d share even if it was.”

Renjiro watched her momentarily, “She didn’t use Lumina energy when we trained.”

Taro blinked, tearing into another bite of bread, but chewing slowed as he processed Renjiro’s words. “That’s… weird,” he said finally. “I mean, I’ve seen her train before. She’s strong, no doubt, but now that you mention it... I don’t think I’ve ever seen her use Lumina either.”

“Do you think she can’t?” Renjiro asked cautiously.

Taro shook his head, glancing at Yumeru again. “Nah, it’s not like she’s human or anything. I can sense the Lumina in her. It’s there. But… there are rare cases, you know. Trauma can suppress Lumina temporarily. It messes with how it flows through you. If she was in one of those Crimson bases… maybe that’s why.”

Renjiro’s gaze lingered on Yumeru, her distant expression as unmoving as stone. Could something have happened to her—something so terrible it cut her off from the very thing that defined her as a Luminarian? The idea unsettled him, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

Taro broke the silence with a shrug. “Whatever it is, I wouldn’t ask her about it. She’s not exactly the sharing type. And if you get too close, she’ll probably just stare you down like you’re an idiot.”

Renjiro managed a small smile, but his curiosity didn’t fade. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of darkness she was carrying.

Before Renjiro could say more, a commotion broke out across the training grounds. The sound of jeering voices pulled their attention. A group of recruits from Squad Storm had surrounded a smaller boy, their leader, Thyros, towering over him with a sneer.

Thyros shoved the recruit against a training pillar. “Come on, weakling. You think you belong here?” he sneered. “You can’t even hold your stance.”

Renjiro felt a flicker of anger stir inside him. The sight reminded him of the helplessness he’d felt back in his village. He stood, fists clenching. “That’s not right.”

Taro followed, brushing crumbs off his tunic. “We should probably stop them.”

“Thyros, go easy on him,” Violet called out, leaning against a post, arms crossed. Her curly brown hair framed sharp brown eyes. “You don't want to break them before they get strong”

Thyros didn’t look at her. “The Crimson Dynasty won’t go easy. They’re monsters. Irredeemable. Weakness gets us killed.”

Renjiro stepped forward. “Hey, knock it off. Leave him alone.”

Thyros and his squad turned, sneering. “And who are you to tell me what to do? Do you even know what we're up against?”

Renjiro’s jaw tightened. “I’ve seen them. Face to face.”

The air thickened. Recruits exchanged stunned looks. Even Thyros hesitated.

Taro let out a low whistle. “Well, that shut everyone up.”

Renjiro didn’t flinch. “We don’t survive by tearing each other apart. We get stronger—together.”

Before Renjiro continued, Kairro appeared from the sidelines, arms crossed over his chest. His cold gaze locked onto Renjiro with a look of disdain. “Isn’t that Renjiro?” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “The one who couldn’t even infuse Lumina energy?”

The recruits snickered at Kairro’s words, and Renjiro’s stomach twisted. His failure earlier in training replayed in his mind, sharp and painful.

Kairro stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. He towered over Renjiro, his voice laced with mockery. “You’re the only one in your group who failed, right? You don’t belong here if you can’t handle the basics.”

The words stung. Renjiro’s fists clenched tighter, his frustration boiling beneath his skin. “You don’t know anything about me,” he growled, his voice low.

Kairro’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh? Are you challenging me, then?”

The challenge hung in the air, heavy with tension. Renjiro’s heart pounded in his chest, and before he could think, he nodded. “Maybe I am.”

Kairro’s fist flew toward him instantly, glowing with Lumina energy. The strike landed hard on Renjiro’s side, knocking the wind out of him. He staggered, struggling to catch his breath. Before he could recover, Kairro’s next blow hit, sending Renjiro sprawling to the ground.

A murmur spread through the crowd of recruits as Kairro loomed over him. “I told you, you’re weak,” Kairro said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Stay down, and maybe they’ll let you stay in the academy.”

Kairro turned to walk away, confident in his victory, but something inside Renjiro snapped.

Renjiro lay in the dirt, his body aching from the blows, but the pain in his chest was sharper—cutting deeper than the physical wounds. You’re weak. Kairro’s words echoed in his mind, but behind them, louder and more brutal, came the memories: his village burning, his uncle’s final moments, and the helplessness that had consumed him.

Something snapped.

The air around him thickened like the weight of the earth had shifted. A fierce and wild surge of energy stirred in his chest, igniting like fire through his veins. His anger—his grief—twisted and erupted simultaneously, a force too powerful to contain. His breath came ragged, and his vision blurred with its intensity.

Blue light flared from his eyes, brilliant and blinding. The ground trembled beneath him, small cracks spidering outward from where he lay. Around him, pebbles and dirt began to lift, swirling in the electric pull of his power, drawn into the storm that raged inside him.

He rose to his feet, fists clenched, blue Lumina crackling across his skin like lightning. The power burned, fierce and raw, and for the first time, Renjiro didn’t hold it back.

Kairro, sensing the shift behind him, stopped in his tracks. He turned just in time to see Renjiro standing, his body radiating with blue Lumina energy. His eyes widened with disbelief.

Renjiro lunged at Kairro without warning, his fist glowing with pure energy. Kairro barely dodged, and Renjiro’s strike collided with the training pillar behind him.

An explosion of blue energy ripped through the air. A shockwave pulsed across the training grounds, sending debris flying as the pillar shattered into rubble. The recruits gasped in astonishment, eyes wide at the sheer power Renjiro had unleashed.

The entire camp fell silent. All eyes were on the massive hole Renjiro had created, the shattered remains of the pillar still smouldering with residual energy. Even Kairro, who had exuded confidence just moments before, stood frozen, his expression a mix of shock and something else—fear.

Renjiro stood there, breathing hard. His heart pounded in his chest, and the energy inside him slowly receded. As the power faded, he looked down at his hands—still faintly glowing with traces of Lumina—and disbelief washed over him. Did I do that? His hands trembled, and he flexed his fingers, trying to grasp the enormity of what had just happened.

Across the training grounds, Captain Rei, who had been watching from a distance, narrowed his eyes. His gaze lingered on Renjiro.

Instructor Darius rushed over, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “What happened here?”

Kairro’s face twisted with anger, his pride wounded. He glared at Renjiro, the disbelief quickly replaced by simmering rage. Renjiro wasn’t just a failure anymore. He wasn’t weak. He was a threat.

Kairro’s cold gaze locked onto Renjiro once more as the recruits whispered. This wasn’t over.

The rivalry with Kairro had just begun.