April sat cross-legged in the darkened dojo, her eyes closed, her breath slow.
She focused—diving into the depths of her consciousness, where Ultima awaited.
The moment she entered that space, the air around her shifted.
A deep, rumbling voice greeted her.
"You are wasting time."
April exhaled, unbothered. Of course Ultima was impatient.
"I'm not," she said calmly.
"Kyokushin Karate is too rigid. Too controlled."
April opened her eyes in the mental space—standing in a vast, dark void. And before her, Ultima stood in its ethereal form: a massive orange colored, lupine beast, its glowing silver eyes piercing through the darkness.
"You are a predator, April. You should be learning something that allows you to fight like one—feral, instinctive, deadly."
April folded her arms. "And that's exactly why I should learn this style."
Ultima growled lowly. "Explain."
April smirked. "Because Ragnarök already knows my past."
The wolf's ears twitched.
April stepped closer. "Every user before me has probably fought the same way. And since Ragnarök killed most of them, I'm willing to bet they have tons of data on your old fighting style."
Ultima didn't respond.
April continued, voice firm. "That means if I fight the same way as the ones before me, I'm predictable. They'll already have a counter for it."
She let that sink in before delivering the final blow.
"But if I learn something new—something they aren't expecting—" she smirked, "—I can turn the tables."
Silence.
Then—
A deep chuckle.
"You are clever, little wolf."
Ultima's silver eyes glowed brighter.
"Very well. But know this—when the time comes, you must embrace both."
April's smirk widened.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."