Akushi was discharged two days later.
Not because he was fine.
But because keeping him in a public hospital had become… inconvenient.
The hallway lights hummed softly as he walked beside Captain Reina Solis, his footsteps slower than usual. His body still felt heavy, like something inside him hadn't fully settled back into place.
The elevator hallway was silent.
Too silent
At the far end of the corridor stood a single elevator.
No numbers.
No signs.
No buttons.
Just a smooth metal door and a glowing hand scanner.
Ken Goro stopped walking.
"…This is far enough," Reina said calmly.
Ken turned to her. "What?"
She faced him fully now. "You don't have clearance."
Ken looked at Akushi instantly. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Reina said, "that what's beyond this point does not officially exist."
Ken stepped forward. "Then he's not going."
Akushi hesitated. "…Mr. Goro—"
Ken cut him off. "Akushi, you collapsed. You almost died. And now they're dragging you into a place they won't even name."
Reina didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
"This isn't coercion," she said. "It's reality."
Ken's jaw tightened. "He's fourteen."
"And the monsters don't care," Reina replied.
Silence stretched.
Akushi looked at Ken.
"I'll come back," he said quietly. "I promise."
Ken searched his face—really searched it—then exhaled sharply through his nose.
"…You don't owe them anything," he muttered. "Remember that."
Akushi nodded.
The elevator doors slid open.
Reina stepped inside first.
Akushi followed.
The doors closed.
Ken was left alone in the hallway.
The descent felt endless.
The air grew cooler. Heavier.
Akushi's ears popped slightly as pressure shifted. A faint sensation stirred in his chest—not pain, not fear—but awareness.
Reina noticed.
"You feel it," she said.
"…Yeah."
"That's residual Nen in the structure," she explained. "This facility is built to contain it."
The elevator finally stopped.
The doors opened.
Akushi froze.
Before him stretched a massive underground complex—layers of glass chambers, suspended walkways, glowing conduits running like veins through the walls. Scientists moved with practiced urgency. Screens displayed shifting data, Nen flow diagrams, and dimensional readings.
The air hummed.
"This is the Hoshino Containment and Nen Dynamics Laboratory," Reina said.
"Named after Dr. Masaru Hoshino—the first to capture Nen without triggering collapse."
Akushi swallowed.
"…So this is where you fight back."
Reina nodded. "Where we learn how not to die."
They walked along an elevated platform.
Below them, a reinforced chamber lit up.
Inside stood a soldier clad in a dark combat suit etched with glowing lines. Thick cables connected his spine and arms to external monitors.
A technician's voice echoed.
"Begin Nen circulation."
The soldier inhaled.
Light surged through the suit.
Akushi's breath hitched.
His chest warmed instinctively.
"That suit," Reina said, watching him closely, "contains no Nen of its own."
Akushi blinked. "Then how—"
"It responds," she said. "Nen-empowered equipment works only when a user pours their own energy into it. Output determines strength. Control determines shape."
The soldier raised his arm.
A blade of condensed Nen formed around it—vibrating, humming with restrained force.
Akushi felt it pull at him.
"…I can feel it," he whispered.
Reina's eyes narrowed slightly. "You shouldn't be able to."
The blade shifted—elongating, thinning, reshaping itself.
"Nen isn't just power," Reina continued. "If you master it, you can manipulate its density, flow, even behavior."
The blade dissolved.
Akushi exhaled slowly.
"So if someone had enough Nen…"
"They could turn anything into a weapon," Reina finished.
They moved deeper into the lab.
Some chambers were pristine.
Others were cracked.
Scorched.
Empty.
"What happened here?" Akushi asked.
Reina didn't look at him. "People who tried to force output instead of understanding it."
Akushi remembered collapsing.
"…That almost happened to me."
Reina stopped walking.
"Yes," she said. "And that's why you're here."
She turned to face him.
"Your Nen didn't explode," she said. "It responded. Like it recognized the mythical being's presence."
Akushi's heart thudded.
"That reaction," Reina continued, "could increase our chances against them. With training. Structure. Control."
"…You want me to join," Akushi said.
Reina nodded. "The Nen Forces."
Akushi hesitated. "And if I don't?"
She didn't hesitate. "Then the monsters will still sense you."
The truth sat heavy between them.
They entered a smaller chamber.
A holographic projection flickered to life.
Ruined cities.
Shattered skies.
A lone figure standing amid chaos.
Akushi's breath caught.
"The First Collapse," Reina said. "Five years ago."
The figure moved through mythical beings like a storm.
"No confirmed body," Reina continued. "No residual Nen readings. No biological proof."
Akushi stared. "…So the Burst Legend might not be real?"
Reina folded her arms.
"No recorded Nen output—human or otherwise—has ever surpassed that of the mythical beings," she said. "And they don't die."
Akushi clenched his fists. "Then how did he—"
"We don't know," Reina said. "That's why he's a legend."
She looked at Akushi.
"He may have been a man," she said.
"Or a phenomenon."
Silence filled the chamber.
"…If he wasn't real," Akushi asked quietly, "then what am I feeling?"
Reina studied him.
"What you possess," she said, "is a Nen response pattern we haven't seen since that day."
She extended her hand.
"Train with us, Akushi Moya."
Akushi thought of the sky cracking open.
Of collapsing.
Of not wanting to run again.
"…I don't want to be a legend," he said.
Reina nodded. "Good."
Akushi met her gaze.
"I just want to stand."
The lab hummed softly around them.
And suddenly a dark figure appeared.
"Yo Reina long time no see…"