It was subtle at first—a faint tremor, like something pressing against the atmosphere itself. Then—a pulse. Not of hostility, but of presence. Of raw, familiar weight.

  Koharu didn’t react, only exhaling softly as she turned toward the disturbance.

  Then—the barrier bent. A ripple cut through the space, like an invisible bde slicing the very air apart. And through that rift—he stepped forward.

  Akira.

  His signature white coat was slung zily over his shoulders, his usual confident posture slightly weighed by something unseen. His presence wasn’t overbearing, but it was felt.

  And the first thing out of his mouth?

  “You guys got my whole staff scared to work.”

  The Setai Commander let out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair as he stepped fully into the barrier. “It would’ve been nice to get a heads-up before you two decided to come down here.” His gaze flicked to Koharu and Ayase, a faint, knowing irritation in his expression.

  Koharu didn’t blink. “Apologies.”

  Akira scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Has to be important if you’re asking me to step away from command right now.” His tone didn’t hold resentment, just exhaustion. “You do realize we’re still dealing with the Kuroda aftermath, right?”

  Koharu nodded, unphased. “Don’t worry. The pceholder commander assigned by the Elders will handle things in your absence. It’s not like your job will go undone.”

  Akira clicked his tongue, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, yeah. If you’re sure.”

  As the two continued talking, Ren and Ryuko stood off to the side, watching closely.

  Ren’s arms were crossed, eyes narrowed slightly. “He looks the same…”

  Ryuko’s gaze sharpened. “Yeah, but something’s off.”

  They were remembering Watari’s words.

  “His spirit arm is just out all the time now. It’s kinda weird.”

  But as they looked at Akira… he walked in still armless.

  So what did Watari mean?

  Their thoughts were cut off as Watari himself stepped forward. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “Akira.”

  Akira turned, smirking slightly. “What’s good, kid? Hope you’ve been holding it together.”

  They met in the middle—high-fiving without hesitation.

  At least, that’s what it looked like to Watari.

  To everyone else?

  Watari just high-fived the air.

  Silence.

  Every head in the room turned toward him, varying degrees of confusion on their faces.

  Watari blinked. “…Why is everybody’s ’Watari’s an idiot’ look on right now?”

  Kaito sighed, stepping forward and resting a hand on his shoulder, his expression deeply sympathetic. “Hey, man.” His voice was gentle, almost too gentle. “If you’re gonna high-five a disabled person, you should probably do it with the one hand they actually have.”

  Watari frowned. “The hell are you talking about?”

  And then—realization dawned.

  His eyes widened slightly as he gnced around the room. “…Wait.” He turned to Akira. “They can’t see it?”

  Akira just shrugged. “Guess not.”

  Watari exhaled, shaking his head. “Oh, you guys aren’t focusing your Tamashkii through one point, are you?”

  Ren and Ryuko exchanged gnces. “What?”

  Watari gestured vaguely. “Focus your Tamashkii into your eyes for a second.”

  They did.

  And the moment they reopened them—

  Their breath hitched.

  Because now—standing beside Akira, partially wreathed in crackling, translucent energy—was his spirit arm.

  “…No way,” Ryuko muttered.

  Ren exhaled sharply. “So this is what he meant…”

  Akira let them stare for a moment, then finally chuckled. “Instead of Raikou being out all the time, I now have this thing out all the time.” He lifted the arm slightly, flexing his fingers as the energy pulsed around them.

  “The good news?” He smirked. “It takes a lot of Tamashkii in your eyes to even see it. So it’s not like I’m walking around freaking people out all the time.”

  Koharu, unfazed, merely nodded. “Yes. That is why I brought you in.”

  Akira blinked. “Huh?”

  Koharu turned toward the rest of the group, her gaze sharp. “You may have thought Kuroda was the end.” Her voice was calm, but it commanded attention. “But this world—and the Chūkan—will always have forces trying to disrupt the bance of Tamashkii.”

  A pause.

  Then—her voice softened slightly.

  “This world will always have something trying to ruin it.”

  Her fingers curled slightly, her posture unwavering. “And when people try to ruin it, a warrior’s job is to make sure they fail.”

  The words hung in the air.

  And then—Kaito sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Oh, no. I know where this is going.”

  Ayase stepped forward, smirking. “Yep.” His voice was far too pleased.

  “It’s time for you all to train again.”

  Watari groaned. “Of course it is.”

  Akira just grinned. “Guess I came at the right time.”

  CUT TO BLACK.