The morning after Karveth's destruction was thick with rumors and tension. Students shuffled into the grand halls of the Sky Severing Academy, whispering about fires that had consumed half of a city. Teachers gathered in hushed circles, murmuring concerns about the impossible magnitude of the event.
Kaede Honjou, perched at her desk as usual, watched Arata Kurogane with a subtle sharpness in her gaze. Something about the slouched, yawning student didn't sit right with her. Yet she said nothing, assuming, for now, that his weakness was genuine.
The boy is hiding more than I expected… she thought, brow furrowed.
Far from the academy, across the continent, a council convened in absolute secrecy.
The Circuit Guardian Association, the elite body tasked with monitoring all awakened circuit users, had been alerted. Their mandate was simple: maintain balance. Prevent one individual from tipping the scales of power.
From the Council Hall emerged three of their finest:
Hoshigawa Renjiro, a tall, disciplined swordsman whose circuits ran like lightning through his veins, able to strike before thought itself.
Fujimura Akane, a nimble mage with circuits attuned to time and spatial manipulation, capable of seeing seconds ahead in combat.
Tachibana Sōta, a hulking enforcer specializing in circuit-infused berserker strength and area suppression, each punch capable of shattering stone.
They had been dispatched to investigate Karveth, trace the source of the devastation, and eliminate any threat if necessary.
Back at Sky Severing, the academy buzzed. The headmaster, Daigo Rensetsu, convened an emergency meeting with all department heads.
"Half of Karveth destroyed overnight," he said, his tone grave. "No natural disaster. No sanctioned mage attacks. The reports… the power involved suggests an awakened of unparalleled strength."
Kaede's eyes flicked toward Arata's corner of the room, noting his sleepy demeanor.
"Do we think the Kurogane student…" she began cautiously.
"Impossible," another teacher interrupted. "He lacks output. He barely controlled his circuits during trials."
Arata's inner voice chuckled at their ignorance. So blind. Perfect. Let them continue thinking I'm a weak student while John Merciless moves freely.
Meanwhile, John Merciless had already positioned himself atop one of the tallest towers in Karveth, the black slime sword in hand. Circuits flared faintly in the background, a subtle hum of restrained power.
He scanned the city streets. Two thousand soldiers, remnants of the Obsidian Fangs, had recovered from their stunned state after Nova—patrolling, trying to restore order.
And now, approaching from the north, he detected them: the Circuit Guardians. He grinned beneath the mask, voice low and amused.
"Ah… visitors. How polite. You come to watch me play?"
Arata's genius was simple, elegant: while John Merciless wreaked havoc and entertained himself in Karveth, Arata at the academy could continue gathering intelligence. Circuit traces were faint, subtle, but sufficient for him to monitor every report, every reaction, every potential loophole in the system.
They send three of their best… predictable. I wonder how long it will take them to realize I'm everywhere and nowhere at once.
He imagined himself at Karveth, circuits active, body poised on the tower. Then, seamlessly, his consciousness flicked back to his body at the academy—listening to Kaede's lecture, smiling faintly as students struggled to hold circuits in check.
Yes… let them worry. Let them calculate. Meanwhile, I have all the time I need.
The Circuit Guardians entered the city cautiously, auras blazing. Renjiro's sword crackled with lightning, Akane's fingers traced time distortions around her hands, and Sōta's massive form radiated intimidation.
John Merciless leaned against the tower's spire, one hand in his pocket, black slime sword resting lazily at his side. He tilted his head, amused.
"You're too polite," he said. "No need to play rough immediately. Let's entertain ourselves a little."
Renjiro lunged, blade igniting with circuits. Akane opened a small temporal rift to reposition herself mid-attack. Sōta charged like a mountain, fists blazing.
John moved.
Faster than lightning, slower than perception, he danced between attacks. One hand rested lightly on the sword, the other casually in his pocket. He taunted as he struck, careful not to wound seriously.
"You think these trifles can corner me?" he drawled. "Foolish."
Every blow, every dodge, every subtle manipulation reinforced a single truth: he was far beyond them. Yet he allowed them to think they were gaining ground. Each step, each slash, a game of illusion and calculation.
The three Guardians exchanged nervous glances.
"He's too fast… his output…" Akane whispered, sensing the impossibility.
John smiled behind his mask. Time for the real lesson.
His left eye flared. The soul circuit activated—an extension of himself, not merely a tool, but his imagination given flesh. He drew a concept from his mind, twisting reality: Chrono Stop.
The logic was simple. His power allowed him to manifest anything he could rationalize into existence. A temporal field, isolated, compressed within the range of his circuits. Not permanent. Not lethal. But enough to stop them, to immobilize, to dominate perception itself.
He raised his hand and whispered:
"Chrono Stop."
The world stuttered. Time in a radius around him froze; circuits pulsed then held; attacks suspended mid-air. Renjiro's sword quivered frozen, Akane's fingers mid-gesture, Sōta's fists suspended inches from impact.
John walked casually through the paused scene, moving the frozen limbs, circling them with a predator's grin.
"You've done well," he murmured. "But it's time to learn your limits."
He tapped each of them lightly with his sword—not to harm, only to enforce immobilization—before flicking his wrist.
The spell lifted.
The three Guardians collapsed, panting, circuits sputtering as they regained movement.
John laughed, a sound of cruel amusement, echoing through the streets.
"You think numbers matter?" he taunted. "You think coordination matters? No… what matters is presence, imagination, and execution. Witness me."
With that, he vanished in a ripple of black slime, leaving the Guardians stunned, alive, but humiliated.
Arata's body sat perfectly still at the academy, chin resting on his palm, as Kaede explained nuances of circuit layering to the class. Students fumbled to keep sparks from igniting dangerously.
All while John Merciless dances with legends, his inner voice mused. And no one suspects a thing. Perfect.
Kaede's eyes flicked at him again. Something about him didn't make sense—but she let it go, for now.
Arata smiled faintly under his hand.
I am everywhere, and I am nowhere. And the game… has only begun.