ember 22 2999
6:00
Shiro awakes his vision blocked by lena body covered by his women shiro gently moved them without waking them
The hallway lights were soft and warm, enchanted to simulate morning sun filtered through fog. Magic hummed low along the walls. The scent of polished wood, fresh citrus, and incense lingered in the air.
And then—he stepped in.
Shiro. Bare. Glowing. Changed.
He moved like a dream someone wasn't supposed to have. Not this early. Not while working.
His body was a sculpture of contradictions—grace and menace, control and chaos. Standing now at 6'2", every inch of him spoke of raw evolution. His once lean street-brawler build had thickened into something beastborn—shoulders broader, chest fuller, arms carved with muscle that flexed without effort.
His abs were deep-cut and ridged, gleaming softly with heat as he walked. The sharp V-line beneath them pointed downward like a roadmap to sins the mansion had already tasted.
Tattoos ran down his torso—tribal, jagged, glowing faintly with buried power. They looked like they were etched into him by something ancient, something primal. Along his back, his muscles shifted like a predator stretching between hunts, the shadows sliding over his obsidian skin like velvet.
His white dreads swung low, thicker now, wilder. The ends brushed his upper back as he turned his head, catching glints of morning light like silver blades.
And his eyes…
Gods, those eyes.
Golden. Not just colored—lit. Like something awake was watching from within him. A smirk played across his lips, and the tips of his fangs peeked out as he passed by.
His manhood swung heavy, unapologetically free between thick thighs that moved like they remembered every fight, every stroke, every woman. Some of the maids held their breath when he passed. Others bit their lips, trying to keep their knees from buckling.
He looked at them—just once—and gave a tired half-smile.
"Oh—sorry for no clothes. The girls are still sleep. Didn't wanna wake 'em."
That voice. Deep. Smooth. Like whiskey over silk.
None of them answered at first.
They just stared—cheeks hot, eyes wide, throats dry. One maid dropped her datapad. Another pretended to look busy, but her gaze stayed locked to the flex in his calves. And a third—Rena's cousin—genuinely forgot what she was doing.
He paused at the stairwell, rolling his neck lazily, spine cracking like thunder under skin. Then:
"If they wake up, let 'em know I'm in the training facility."
"…Y-Yes, Master," the head maid finally breathed.
He kept walking.
And not one of them would forget how he looked that morning.
Not for a very… very long time.
6:18 AM | Lena's Mansion – Reinforced Training Dojo
Shiro stepped into the dojo, bare feet brushing over smooth stone. The space was almost unrecognizable.
The once-damaged walls had been reinforced with obsidian-threaded alloys, arcane glyphs woven into the seams. The cracked floor tiles from their last session were gone—replaced with polished, pressure-reactive platforms capable of adjusting terrain mid-fight.
"Damn," he muttered, glancing around. "She really went all out…"
On the left wall: new lockers. Next to that, a fog-glass shower room, lit with calming blue light.
She'd even left him something folded on a bench—a custom pair of jet-black training pants, stitched with reinforced threading, built to withstand speed, fire, claws… him.
Shiro grinned. "Thoughtful as hell…"
He slipped the pants on and stretched, joints cracking loud as thunder. Then he noticed it—a sleek, matte-black console embedded into the wall near the weapons rack. The screen glowed faintly with rune-circuitry.
"…What does this do?"
He tapped a button.
A low hum filled the room.
"Greeting: Master Shiro."
A smooth, artificial voice echoed through the chamber—calm, feminine, but precise. A soft pulse of light ran through the glyphs overhead.
"…Huh?"
"I am EIDOLON. Enhanced Integrated Defense & Offensive Learning Operation Node. Created by Mistress Lena for your personal use. My primary functions include training optimization, golem combat simulation, and automated estate security."
Shiro blinked, then slowly smirked. "Oh, you a mouthful."
"I can generate constructs with progressive adaptation. All data from your previous combat sessions—including recent engagements with elite enemies—have been logged and analyzed. Your next opponent will exceed the last."
He cracked his knuckles. "Now that's what I like to hear…"
"Would you like to select a difficulty, Master Shiro?"
He walked toward the center of the room, flexing his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Yeah. Hit me with the list."
"Available Difficulty Modes:"
• **Mode 1: ** Baseline Engagement – For warmups.
• **Mode 2: ** Advanced Sparring – For maintaining combat flow.
• **Mode 3: ** Predator Class – Simulates dangerous field opponents.
• **Mode 4: ** Apex Hunt – Simulates multiple hostile threats.
• **Mode 5: ** Overkill Protocol – Simulates enemies designed to kill demigods.
• **Mode 6: ** Custom Nightmare – Unknown. Dynamic. Data-reactive. Created for unpredictable evolution mid-session.
Shiro's grin widened.
This is going to be fun I guess i'll warm up with Apex shiro Choose 5 golems to go against a latch open out came humanoid form but also animalistic looking ones
6:23 AM | Lena's Mansion – Training Dojo | Apex Mode: Active
Shiro cracked his neck again, rolling his shoulders as he stepped toward the center ring. The glyphs on the floor shifted beneath his feet, glowing brighter in anticipation. The air tightened—like the room itself was holding its breath.
"Mode Confirmed: Apex Hunt."
"Deploying five apex-class golems. Adapting based on combat data from your last four engagements…"
With a hiss of compressed air, five reinforced summoning pods opened from recessed chambers along the far wall. Magic surged. Sparks danced across the floor. Steam burst into the air like war drums sounding.
And then—they stepped out.
1. The Stalker – Humanoid, tall and lean, but with elongated arms and reverse-jointed legs. Its head was split vertically like a mantis, glowing red where eyes should be. Its claws sparked as it crouched low, twitching with unnatural speed.
2. The Mauler – Beast-shaped, built like a gorilla crossed with a rhino, armor-plated with obsidian. Massive forearms dragged across the floor, and glowing runes pulsed over its fists like molten veins.
3. The Seraph – Slender and feminine, with glass-like wings and a floating stance. She wielded twin curved blades and moved like liquid light. Her eyes locked on Shiro, scanning him without blinking.
4. The Hellborne – Covered in smoldering crimson runes, its skin was cracked stone with flame licking between the gaps. It held a greatsword with a jagged edge and breathed smoke with every slow, deliberate step.
5. The Echo – Shiro paused when this one emerged.
It looked… almost like him.
Same height. Same stance. A distorted, shadowy version of his own primal form. No face—just a blank obsidian mask. But the aura it gave off… was pure hunger.
Shiro grinned wide, eyes gleaming gold.
"Now we're talkin'…"
"Apex Mode initialized. Combat begins in 3… 2… 1…"
The room surged to life—walls shifting, glyphs flaring, and air slicing as the golems lunged all at once.
The Stalker vanished mid-leap, reappearing beside him with a flicker of light—its claws aimed for his ribs.
Shiro ducked, twisted, and slammed a backfist into its temple. The Stalker flew sideways, crashing into the reinforced wall.
The Mauler roared, pounding both fists into the floor, shattering the tiles beneath. The quake hit Shiro mid-dodge, but he rolled with it, then leapt—landing square on its back and slamming both fists into its spine with a crack that echoed.
The Seraph descended from above, blades spinning like fans. Shiro caught one with his gauntlet and blocked the other with his forearm, sliding back from the impact.
"You're fast," he muttered. "I like fast."
The Hellborne charged, greatsword swinging wide. Shiro ducked low—barely—then flipped off its shoulder to reposition, just as a fire-blast exploded where he'd been standing.
But the real threat—
The Echo.
It hadn't moved yet.
It just watched.
Shiro's pupils narrowed, breath steady now.
"Saved the best for last, huh?"
He looked around at the other four, already closing in.
"Alright then," golden glow flickering along his veins, "Let's dance."