Back on the sports field. Dust swirled over the asphalt, sweat hung in the air. The students stood in line, some nervous, some curious.
"Focus," Carris called out. "Feel the bond with your Soulbound."
A baseball flew across the field—just over a student's head. The boy instinctively raised his calculator.
The display began to glow. Formulas, numbers, trajectories—all appeared at once. The student moved as if guided by an invisible hand. A paper plane rose, bounced off the ball—perfectly deflected.
Carris wrote calmly: "Mathematical prediction. Medium quality. High tactical flexibility. Rear Support."
Then another student—his phone vibrated, hissed, started smoking. Next to him, a boy with a backpack—his hair drawn toward the object, as if the bag wanted to devour him.
"Electromagnetic interference. Low quality," murmured Carris. "Backpack—engulfing trait. Both potentially developable."
Then he looked at Darek. "You."
Okay, let's show them what we've got.
Darek felt his heart race. Come on, do something… He focused until his face turned red. At first, nothing happened—then red dust rose from the pillow, slowly drifting to the ground.
Uhm… or not…
Carris observed silently. "Status change, unclear. Potential low." He moved on to the next student.
But then something shifted. Dust surged from Darek's innermost self, denser, more alive—as if it were breathing. It flowed into the pillow, which vibrated lightly, while Darek suddenly felt his exhaustion melt away.
Carris stepped closer. "Correction. Additional Defensive Endurance ability. Interesting. Exponential increase possible."
Darek felt the air thin around him. Great. My Soulbound is an overmotivated sleeping pillow.
"Let's find out," Carris said calmly, "how long you can sustain this."
Darek paled. That didn't sound like a request.
While the other students had long collapsed to the ground, Darek had to continue for two more hours. But in his mind, seconds stretched like minutes, each breath a battle, each muscle a burning weight. The pillow continued to absorb his exhaustion, red dust swirling around him. Body and mind held on, but his soul screamed—the connection to his Soulbound demanded rest. Every movement was both agony and progress, and Darek felt every second making him stronger while pushing him to his limits.
When everyone else lay exhausted on the ground, Carris called:
"Let's move on to passive abilities. Just absorb your Soulbounds, I'll handle the rest."
He meticulously noted the passive abilities:
"Your passive abilities are all still in the beginning stages and will only become more visible to me with increased control over your Soulbound." Carris watched him, his gaze hard to read.
"Stand at attention!"
Half the class nearly collapsed, the others struggled to rise. Markes' voice rang out—firm, clear, authoritative.
"Stand at attention, students!"
On command, everyone straightened. A murmur ran through the class. "He's become way too powerful…"
Carris nodded briefly. "Dismissed. Until the test, normal classes. Train every day until exhaustion. See you Friday—for the test."
Ben sniffled, wiping sweat and tears simultaneously from his face. "Me too, Lieutenant?"
Carris turned to him, his gaze icy. "Guess."
≋⟡≋
As the students left the field, the sky slowly darkened. In the dojo, an unusual silence reigned. Diana lowered her sword, her breathing calm—but something felt off. A shadow flickered across the wall. Only for a fraction of a second.
That wasn't a draft…
She raised her head—the room was empty. Yet the feeling persisted. As if something, or someone, was watching her.
Suddenly, a powerful shadow spread across the wooden floor of the dojo. The air thickened, as if even the light held its breath. Then it descended—a four-meter-wide eagle. Brown and white feathers, broad wings, full of power. Most striking was its bright blue beak, shimmering almost unnaturally in the sunlight, as if carrying foreign light within.
Is that… a giant eagle? Diana thought.
"Sensei! Sensei! Look!" she shouted, pointing upward.
Daro's expression darkened immediately; not surprise, but sharp recognition. "It has… a blue beak!" Diana continued, almost indignant. "Sensei, it looks exactly like the eagle on Aquilaras' crest!"
The eagle let out a piercing cry. For a heartbeat, the air seemed to vibrate, an invisible resonance running through the wood. Behind the bird, a faint projection of a crest appeared, then vanished.
Daro crossed his arms, eyes narrow. "Looks like we'll have to postpone training for the next few days."
Diana frowned. "Why all of a sudden, Sensei?" She stepped forward, voice quieter, serious. "Can I help, Master?"
For a moment, Daro's features softened, but the tension remained. "No," he said curtly. "I won't be long. You continue training. And starting today: forty minutes of meditation—before and after training—with passive Soulbound. Deepen your resonance."
Diana nodded resolutely. A command from Daro was never arbitrary. Forty minutes of silence… if that's the path to becoming stronger, she would take it. Without another word, Daro turned and left the dojo. The eagle followed, a final cry echoing. For a moment, Diana thought a fine hint of blue dust lingered in the air—barely visible, yet unsettling.
≋⟡≋
On the way home from school, Darek and Ben turned into a narrow alley. The sky was already orange, the wind smelled of metal and wet stone.
Five rowdies emerged from the shadows. Cigarettes glowed, uniforms from a nearby school, wide grins. One shouted: "Hey, aren't those the losers from Kento School? Ha-ha-ha!" Another laughed: "Yeah, they had classes when the shockwave hit—they're mostly supporters!" A third tossed his chin: "We were at sports when it happened." The fourth conjured a baseball bat from within himself and rested it casually on his shoulder. The fifth: "Haha, we might come for you… if we get constipated! Hahaha!"
Does this have to happen, thought Darek, as if nothing else ever did. He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ben, let's ignore them. Waste of time," he murmured, yawning. "I could be taking a nap by now."
"That would suit them perfectly," Ben said, raising his fist theatrically.
Everyone laughed—except the leader. He remained serious, and that made him dangerous. Slender and muscular types surrounded him; he alone towered, massive, muscles straining against his shirt.
Ben glared: "Ha! I can't help you—I don't even have a Soulbound!"
The rowdies burst into laughter again.
Darek grabbed Ben's arm to pull him along, but the leader raised his hand. Two meters tall, heavy breathing, a shadow that swallowed the two boys.
"Stop! That follower there… is that gold?"
The rowdies stared at Ben's chain. "Yeah, it really shines! We'll grab it!" they yelled.
Darek stepped in front of Ben. I have a Soulbound. I'll take this. Escape is unrealistic.
Ben balled his fists. "Find out for yourselves!"
The leader slowly approached Darek, who still stood in front of Ben. The shadow of the giant consumed the boys.
Darek swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing visibly. Nervously, he said: "Then… let's begin. Soulbound!"
Before him materialized—a pillow.
"A… pillow?!" gasped the scarred one.
The rowdies stared. For a heartbeat, silence. Then all of them erupted in laughter. They nearly fell, clutching their bellies, one wiping tears from his eyes.
"He wants to put us to bed!" croaked the one with long hair.
The leader extended his hand. A faint shimmer ran over his knuckles. In his grasp appeared a scratched keychain in the shape of a dog—tiny, almost laughable in this huge hand.
"That's the boss's Soulbound!" one cheered. "Show them, boss!"
The muscular leader's gaze softened for a moment; a memory flickered: a small, shaggy dog with crooked paws pressing fearfully against a thin boy's leg. Children laughed, pointing: "Hahaha, it can't even read a traffic light!" Don't listen to them, Pebbels, the boy thought back, hand in fur. The anger remained.
"Ever since then… I wish everyone could see him like that. So they'd understand."
He closed his hand around the charm; the dull light intensified. His voice echoed in the narrow alley: "Red-Green Blindness!"
A shiver ran through Darek. The world lost its edges: red, green, brown—all merged into dull gray. His heart raced. Ben rubbed his eyes. "What… the hell…?"
Then the pillow in Darek's hand vibrated. Fine red dust lifted from its surface, as if absorbing the foreign burden. With each breath, the confusion faded, colors returned—sharp, clear, reliable.
Darek exhaled. A crooked grin. "Nice trick. But my Soulbound eats that for breakfast."
The pillow pulsed briefly, affirming him.
The leader blinked—a hint of surprise. No one had ever neutralized his ability like that.
Darek lifted his Soulbound, still unsure but determined. "Then… now it's my turn!" He swung. At the last moment, he tried to give the technique a name—stumbled. "Uhm… Red Dust!"
The muscle-bound guy blinked, puzzled, stepping back. "…You call your ability Red Dust?"
Darek grinned briefly, inwardly chuckling. "Now I know where Diana got it… hehe."
A surge of reddish particles shot forward. Not elegant, but full of force. The dust glowed briefly, enveloping the giant. Chill crawled over his back. His muscles tensed—not from aggression, but from sudden, foreign fear. The giant's presence shattered.
The rowdies noticed immediately. Their leader, the rock in the storm, now seemed vulnerable and unsure. A faint gasp escaped him, then a hurried step back.
"What… what is that?" he stammered.
Fear? thought Darek. This is what it feels like when it hits you.
"Back… get away from here!" the leader roared, voice trembling. The rowdies stumbled, then ran. Footsteps echoed, faded, vanished.
Darek stood still, pillow in hand, chest still slightly heaving. Ben stared in disbelief at the alley. "Uhm… wow… that actually worked?!"
Darek looked at the Soulbound, quietly vibrating. Maybe we're not such a bad team after all, you and me.
≋⟡≋
Far away, a cold wind swept through the empty halls of the Aquilara Palace. Even the old paintings in their golden frames seemed to shiver, as if anticipating the coming events.
Marcus sat in his study, hands folded on the desk, thoughts restless between past and future.
A young guardian falcon struck against the window outside, its dark red eyes gleaming like warning lights in the dusk. Marcus knew the silence was only deceptive.
Marcus said seriously, "Two days for this distance is impressive even for him. He must truly be agitated. Not even the eagle I sent as a messenger has returned—and that's a Blue-beak Eagle of the Third Generation."
Marcus glanced at his secretary and said, "Falcian, the visitor is arriving earlier than expected."
Soon someone would come—a man whose gaze was sharper than any blade, whose steps announced themselves in silence: none other than Sensei Daro.
≋⟡≋
Later, Diana sat alone in the dojo. The eagle was gone, the shadow too. Only the wood still smelled of sun and dust. She sat cross-legged, placed the sword beside her, and closed her eyes.
Forty minutes before training. Forty after. Passive Soulbound. Breathing. Counting. Listening. A barely visible glow lay on her skin, warm as breath in winter. If this is only the beginning… how far can I go?