The sun was up high.
The breeze drifted lazily through the air, warm but tired, as if even the wind knew the world was still adjusting to what had happened. A city still reeling. A sky still healing. Somewhere far behind him, the memory of the battle remained. And ahead of him—
A towering gate of black iron. Old, but not rusted. Carved with symbols that pulsed faintly in the light—runes in a language he didn't recognize, edges sharpened with intent. It felt ancient, alive in a way that made his teeth itch.
A plaque on the stone wall beside it read:
Veilwake Institute.
For the Awakened.
Akitaka stood still, hands in his pockets. His boots scuffed the gravel beneath him. Overgrown grass poked between the stones. The faint clang of metal striking metal echoed from beyond the gate—sharp, distant, like ghost blades locked in ritual.
His crimson eye narrowed as he tilted his head up, taking in the sheer size of the gate.
Akitaka:
"This is where the card said I must be… This better be worth it."
No sarcasm. No real interest. Just the flat tone of someone who's already seen too much to be impressed by symbols and locked doors.
His fingers brushed the edge of the sword on his back—his sword. Born from something he didn't understand, yet it felt more his than anything else he'd ever touched. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, syncing with the nerves in his spine.
Shikaku (Echo of Death):
"Dramatic entrance. Bet they've got robes and initiation chants."
Ikari (Echo of Life):
"This is a sanctuary for your kind. Respect it."
Akitaka:
"'My kind,' huh?"
He walked up to the gate and pushed. It didn't move.
Shikaku:
"Guess you flunked the vibe check."
But before he could scoff, a soft metallic groan crept through the air. The runes along the gate flared briefly, and then—it opened on its own. Silent. Wide. Inviting.
Ikari:
"They recognize the energy in you."
Akitaka:
"Creepy."
He stepped through.
Inside, the Institute grounds sprawled wider than he expected. Cobblestone paths curved around wide training courtyards, small gardens, and elegant buildings shaped with unnatural symmetry. Towers pierced the skyline, and students moved between them—some sparring, some reading, others meditating under trees older than memory.
Each student carried a weight. He could feel it. Not just weapons or armor—something deeper. Something humming beneath their skin.
None of them looked at him directly, but they noticed. A glance here. A pause there. The kind of awareness predators have when a new one enters the territory.
Shikaku:
"They know you're different."
Ikari:
"But not how."
And that was the truth.
They didn't know he had two Echoes. Didn't know the voices crawling through his mind weren't madness, but something real. Manifested. Breathing beside his soul. Most of these students likely had one—if any. But two? That wasn't just rare.
It was wrong.
And he didn't plan on telling anyone.
Footsteps echoed nearby.
A familiar figure stepped out from behind a carved stone archway. That man again. Long coat. Sharp eyes. Calm posture. He walked like someone used to leading others who didn't want to be led.
Man:
"You came."
Akitaka:
"No thanks to your cryptic card."
Man (smirking slightly):
"Most don't show up at all. You're already ahead of the curve."
He extended his hand politely. Akitaka stared at it for a long moment, then looked away without shaking.
Akitaka:
"So what now? You label me? Rank me? Tell me how broken I am?"
The man dropped his hand, unfazed.
Man:
"No. I ask you a question."
Akitaka blinked once, slow.
Akitaka:
"Okay… shoot."
Man:
"How did you come back?"
Silence.
The wind passed. Somewhere across the courtyard, a student's blade clanged against a wooden dummy. But between them—it was quiet. Still.
Akitaka:
"…What?"
Man:
"You died. We know that. A documented death. Flatline. No pulse. No breath. But you didn't stay dead. You came back. Not twisted. Not hollow. Whole."
Akitaka:
"…You're sure?"
Man:
"No one just dies and comes back."
Shikaku:
"Guess we're special."
Ikari:
"Or dangerous."
Man:
"We've monitored over 3,000 Awakenings across the world. Some people change. Some lose parts of themselves. But none—none—have ever returned from true death like you did. Not like this."
Akitaka:
"Then maybe I'm not one of you."
Man:
"You're something. Your sword alone confirms that."
The blade pulsed faintly behind him, resonating with the space. The man looked at it warily but said nothing.
They started walking together. The man kept his hands behind his back, posture formal, but his voice carried the weight of someone trying to understand more than command.
Man:
"My name is Kurodan. I recruit for Veilwake. I bring in the ones who don't know what they are yet. Or the ones who are about to lose themselves."
Akitaka:
"Do I look like I need saving?"
Kurodan:
"No. But you look like you're on the edge of something. And the last time someone stood on that edge…"
He trailed off.
Akitaka:
"…They fell?"
Kurodan didn't answer.
They passed students now. Some paused training. Some whispered.
"Is he new?"
"His Concept feels unstable."
"Must've Awakened in the last week."
"Wait, why is Kurodan personally escorting him?"
No one mentioned the voices in his head. No one even suspected he had two. As far as they were concerned, he was just another unstable Awakening. Dangerous, maybe. But ordinary.
Shikaku (smug):
"They have no idea."
Ikari (quiet):
"Keep it that way. For now."
Kurodan led him to a tall building off to the side. Fewer people. No noise. It looked less like a school and more like a vault.
Kurodan:
"For now, you'll be watched. We won't assign you a class until we know what you're carrying."
Akitaka:
"Like a lab rat?"
Kurodan:
"Like a bomb we haven't defused."
Akitaka chuckled once. Dry. Cold.
He stepped through the door, boots echoing down the marble hall. The air inside smelled like chalk, leather, and ozone. Whatever this place was, it wasn't a school.
As he passed a mirror in the hallway, he glanced sideways.
Rain-damp dreadlocks framed his face. One crimson eye stared back. The other, still hidden. In the reflection, for just a second—he thought he saw someone else behind his eyes.
But then it was gone.
He stopped at the end of the hall and muttered to himself:
Akitaka:
"…Let's see how deep this hole goes."