The next morning began with a bell that sounded more like a pulse than a tone. The walls of Rin's room flickered once, and the emblem on his chest lit up in response. A line of text shimmered across the glass surface of his desk: "Training Evaluation - Observation Hall - Level One."
He groaned, rubbed his face, and forced himself upright. His muscles ached from the previous day's resonance drills. He dressed quickly, clipped the emblem into place, and followed the soft blue arrows projected on the floor. The Academy was enormous, a maze of corridors that seemed to rearrange when no one watched. Every few turns, he caught reflections of himself in the walls, pale eyes that flickered white for a heartbeat before settling back to brown.
The Observation Hall was already crowded when he arrived. Students stood in groups according to their eye color, the hues glowing faintly in the dim chamber. Instructors watched from balconies above, their presence silent but heavy. The floor itself was a circle carved with thousands of symbols, each line pulsing with slow light.
Sora met him near the entrance, arms folded. "This is your first test," she said. "They'll measure your control, not your strength. Don't think of it as a fight."
He nodded, though his stomach twisted with nerves. "What happens if I fail?"
"You'll learn," she said simply. "That's what the test is for."
Instructor Hyou stepped into the center, staff tapping once against the ground. The room quieted instantly. "The Test of Colors is not about victory," he announced. "It is about sight. You'll face a projection drawn from your own energy. What you see will be shaped by what you fear."
A low murmur passed through the students. Hyou's violet eye brightened. "Step forward, one at a time."
The first student, a boy with a red eye, walked to the circle. The symbols under him glowed crimson, and a figure emerged from the light, mirroring his movements but darker, sharper. They clashed in bursts of red sparks until the copy vanished. Hyou nodded. "Pass."
Others followed: blue eyes forming illusions that tested perception, green eyes creating barriers, yellow eyes darting with speed. Each student faced their shadow and learned its rhythm. Then Hyou's gaze turned to Rin.
"White Blinker," he said. "Your turn."
The title sounded strange, like a name he hadn't earned. Rin stepped into the circle. The symbols beneath him flared once, then went utterly still. For a moment, nothing happened. He glanced at Hyou, uncertain.
Then the floor cracked.
Light spilled upward, swallowing the chamber in a flash so pure it seemed to erase color itself. When it faded, a figure stood across from him, himself, but wrong. Its eyes were empty white, its face blank of emotion.
The projection moved first. A wave of white radiance surged toward him. Rin raised his arm instinctively, and a thin shield formed, a transparent veil that barely held before shattering. The impact threw him backward, sliding across the smooth floor. Gasps echoed around the hall.
Hyou didn't intervene. "Control it, Rin," he said quietly.
Rin pushed himself up. The copy waited, head tilted as if studying him. He could feel its energy, wild and unfocused, identical to his own. He remembered Sora's voice from the night before: Keep it calm, it flows. Let it fear, it burns.
He closed his eyes. In the darkness behind his eyelids, light pulsed again, but this time he didn't resist it. He pictured it narrowing, steadying, becoming clear. When he opened his eyes, a faint white glow surrounded him, gentle, not blinding.
The projection attacked again. Rin stepped forward instead of retreating, guiding the light around his body like flowing water. The blast passed through him, dissolving into harmless sparks. He moved closer and reached out. His hand touched the chest of the double, and for an instant he saw flashes, every fear he'd buried: the moment the creature attacked his classroom, Kaito's blank stare, his mother's empty apartment.
He exhaled. "I'm not afraid of seeing anymore."
The projection's form flickered, then shattered like glass. The light receded. Silence filled the hall.
Hyou lowered his staff. "That," he said, "was control."
Students whispered among themselves, some impressed, others uneasy. Rin looked down at his hands. The glow had faded, leaving only warmth behind. Sora met his gaze from the side of the room, her faint smile one of quiet approval.
After the test, Hyou dismissed the class. Rin found himself walking through the outer corridors, unsure whether to feel proud or terrified. The thought of that empty-eyed version of himself lingered like a shadow.
Sora joined him near the glass bridge that overlooked the city's underbelly. The glow of Neo-Tokai filtered through layers of mist far below.
"You did well," she said.
"It didn't feel like it," Rin replied. "That thing wasn't just an image. It knew what I was thinking."
"It was drawn from you," she said. "Every color carries reflection. White mirrors everything including doubt."
He leaned against the railing. "Then what happens when I stop doubting?"
"Then you'll see what white truly is."
They stood in silence for a moment. The hum of the Academy felt distant, the lights flickering like breathing stars. Somewhere deeper in the complex, a bell tolled softly, signaling the end of the session.
Sora turned to leave but paused. "Be careful, Rin. Power attracts attention. There are eyes beyond these walls that watch for light like yours."
"Eyes?" he asked.
Her expression darkened. "Not all seers serve the Academy. Some believe the world deserves blindness. If they find out about you…" She didn't finish.
Rin nodded slowly. "Then I'll be ready."
Sora's gaze softened again. "I hope so."
When she left, Rin looked down at the emblem on his chest. The white circle pulsed faintly, mirroring his heartbeat. Somewhere in that rhythm, he felt a quiet promise forming, not to become the strongest, but to understand why he had been chosen to see at all.
That night, as the artificial stars dimmed and the Academy settled into silence, a shadow stirred far away in the city above. A tall figure with a single black eye watched the glowing towers through a cracked lens.
"So the White Blink has awakened," he murmured. "It begins again."
The reflection in the lens smiled back, cruel and patient.