The First Gate Watcher’s hands were trembling.

  Not from fear. Not from exhaustion.

  From disbelief.

  Watari’s bde wasn’t just glowing—it was alive. Lightning coiled along its surface, crawling like living veins of energy, pulsating with a heartbeat of its own. The air around it shimmered, bending under the sheer force radiating from the sword.

  It wasn’t like any weapon he had seen before.

  It wasn’t even like a weapon meant for mortals.

  And then—

  It moved.

  No—

  That wasn’t right.

  It didn’t move.

  There was no blur of motion. No shift in stance. No arc of a bde cutting through space.

  There was just—

  A deafening crack of thunder—not in the sky, but in the space between them.

  The First Gate Watcher’s ears rang. His vision blurred. His breath caught in his throat.

  And when his senses finally caught up, it was already over.

  Ryuko stood there, hunched over, hand on his knee, his body trembling.

  The abyss of Meian was gone.

  No more shadows. No more void. No more darkness swallowing the battlefield.

  Just Ryuko. Caught between stunned silence and the undeniable truth—

  He had been forced out of his form.

  By a single, unseen strike.

  The First Gate Watcher’s stomach churned. He still hadn’t seen what happened.

  This is impossible.

  He swallowed hard. His legs felt heavy. It was like he had been standing too close to something he wasn’t meant to witness.

  A shaky exhale left his lips.

  “Are we… sure you were scking for two years, kid?”

  The words slipped out of Ryuko without thinking. It was the only logical thing his mind could process.

  Watari tilted his head. Blinking. “I wasn’t the one that said that.”

  Ryuko, still catching his breath, let out a rough, exhausted chuckle.

  “Tch… You were.”

  Watari smirked, pointing at him with his bde. “Nope. You were.”

  A pause.

  Ryuko tried to roll his shoulders. To straighten up. To pretend that he wasn’t struggling.

  And then—

  His legs betrayed him.

  The tremor started small. Barely noticeable. Just a slight shift in weight.

  Then—his knees buckled.

  He dropped down to one knee before he could stop it. His breath came short, sharp, like his lungs weren’t processing air fast enough.

  Damn.

  He clenched his jaw. It wasn’t pain—it wasn’t even exhaustion.

  It was his body shutting down out of pure instinct.

  A subconscious reaction to surviving something that shouldn’t be survivable.

  The First Gate Watcher didn’t breathe.

  He had watched Ryuko go toe-to-toe with Watari for the entire fight.

  And yet—

  One moment.

  One attack.

  And he was on his knees.

  The silence stretched between them. Then, Ayase—who had been watching with arms crossed, expression unreadable—finally spoke.

  “…He’s been honing his Resonance this whole time.”

  Koharu tilted her head slightly. “Maybe he’s not as zy as I thought.”

  Ayase exhaled, the corner of his lip quirking up slightly. “Or maybe… he’s not as useless as I thought.”

  Watari let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Man, you guys act like I wasn’t doing anything this whole time. I talk to Taketake all the time. First, it’s Yumi and Takemikazuchi. Then, it’s the kids. That’s just my day.”

  Ryuko exhaled sharply through his nose. Despite still recovering, his tone carried defiance.

  “This fight isn’t over,” he muttered.

  Watari blinked. “Uh… as far as I know, this wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death.”

  Ryuko rolled his shoulders, still catching his breath. “Every fight should be a fight to the death.”

  The First Gate Watcher stiffened.

  W-What…?

  Was he really still trying to continue?!

  But then—

  Watari, casually, deadpan:

  “What about Ren?”

  The air shifted.

  Ryuko froze.

  For a long second, he didn’t say anything.

  His gaze flickered to the side.

  The First Gate Watcher swore he saw the faintest twitch in Ryuko’s brow.

  Then, finally—

  “…Maybe not every fight.”

  The silence held.

  And then—

  “Little Ichimon.”

  The voice was sharp.

  The First Gate Watcher flinched.

  Koharu didn’t even have to look directly at him. Her tone alone pinned him in pce.

  “You, hiding in the back.”

  His stomach dropped.

  She knew.

  Koharu’s eyes flicked toward the shadows, her stare sharp.

  “Scram.”

  A cold sweat prickled down his back.

  He didn’t even think. He just turned and bolted, slipping out of the training grounds before he could get caught up in whatever the hell this was.

  His heart pounded as he ran.

  But as he reached the hallway—

  Something made him stop.

  A chill crawled up his spine.

  Slowly—hesitantly—he gnced back, peering into the training grounds one st time.

  His breath caught in his throat.

  Watari had already sheathed his bde.

  Like nothing happened.

  Like that entire phenomenon—the storm, the strike, the overwhelming force that shook the battlefield—

  Had just been another passing moment.

  The recruit stared.

  His mind reeled.

  This is the guy that handled Kuroda.

  The thought struck him harder than anything else.

  For the first time, he truly understood.

  Watari Hayashi wasn’t just a rumor. He wasn’t just a name passed around in whispers.

  He was the storm itself.

  And he was only getting stronger.

  The recruit exhaled. Then, without another word—

  He turned and disappeared into the Chūkan’s corridors.

  Back inside the training grounds, Koharu exhaled, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

  “That should be enough. The elders will be satisfied with this.”

  Watari rexed, rolling out his shoulders. “Oh, good. Gd that’s over.”

  But Koharu wasn’t done.

  She stepped forward, arms crossed, her expression sharpening.

  “Before you start celebrating your reunion with everyone—”

  Her gaze locked onto him.

  “Let’s talk about the Chūkan matter at hand.”

  —CUT TO BLACK.