The sun rose on the compound, but it didn't rise on boys anymore—it rose on warriors.
A full year had passed since training began under Ryan's demanding, deliberate guidance. In that time, the compound had seen more than just physical progress—it had witnessed emotional breakthroughs, philosophical debates, bonding, and growth that transcended even the anime they once called their lives. The boys had been shaped by each lesson, each training session, and the struggles they had faced together. They were no longer just boys—they had become warriors in their own right.
After a brutal warm-up and several sparring rounds, the boys regrouped in the courtyard, each panting but proud. Their bodies ached, but there was a sense of accomplishment in their eyes. They had pushed past their limits—each one had grown. They were no longer the same as when they first arrived.
Ryan stood at the center, arms crossed, his gaze piercing as he observed their progress. "Not bad. I can see it now—you're not just fighters. You're becoming artists in motion." And it was true. The boys had all grown into warriors who could fight not only with strength but with grace, technique, and purpose. Those martial arts he had them learn complimented them better than he thought they would.
He had developed a three-type fight style system that worked wonders. It was rather simple. Learn a pair of martial arts that compliment you and create the third a as a hybrid of the other two. It allowed for some rather fun combinations when all thre were mastered, but according to Ryan tru mastery is reached if you can fluidly swap between all three style with little to no loss in momentum or pressure. That and you should be able to do it mid-fight.
---
Tanjiro had become the embodiment of calm amidst chaos. His breathing was fluid, his movements controlled and precise. He had mastered the art of switching between Water and Sun Breathing in battle, using Total Concentration Breathing to guide his transitions. He could now shift between the two styles seamlessly, each transition an elegant flow of energy. After watching his anime, he had learned to channel Repetitive Action through sheer focus—each breath a meditation, each strike a testament to his growth.
His primary style was Tai Chi, focused on fluid breathwork and grounded grace. His secondary style was Aikido, emphasizing redirection and harmony with movement. The hybrid style he had developed, "Gentle Flow," combined the two, making his body flow like a stream yet strike like the sun. He had mastered redirection and countering with the grace of a storm, becoming a true demon slayer who sought peace through strength.
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Eren had come a long way since his first days of training. He could now transform into a Titan without needing to injure himself, though it required a short window of focus and vulnerability. His ability to stall his transformation for up to 47 minutes, or temporarily boost his regeneration, had left Ryan baffled. Ryan had hypothesized that it was a byproduct of willpower overriding nature, but Eren had yet to fully understand the mechanics of his new abilities. It was clear, though, that Eren was no longer the impulsive, hot-headed boy who had first arrived.
Eren's primary style was Boxing—raw, explosive, brutally personal. His secondary style was Krav Maga, focused on efficiency, ruthlessness, and survival. His hybrid style, "Survivor's Wrath," had become his most powerful tool. Eren fought like a cornered animal, every punch speaking of pain, every dodge of defiance. His aggression was controlled, his rage purposeful. He had learned to harness his fury and make it a weapon, his movements sharp and precise.
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Izuku had made incredible strides in his control over One For All. He had raised his output from 8% to 35%, pushing himself to 40% when necessary. Watching his anime had given him clarity—quirks were more spiritual than scientific, and control came from within. He had accessed the Vestige Realm in dreams, but he had yet to enter it by will. His understanding of his powers had deepened, and with it, his resolve.
Izuku's primary style was Kung Fu—technical, adaptable, and centered. His secondary style was Jeet Kune Do—direct, innovative, and flowing. His hybrid style, "Strategic Drive," combined the two to create a movement-focused approach that let him shift between creative counters and explosive momentum. His Shoot Style had never looked cleaner, and his strikes had never hit harder. He was no longer just a boy with a quirk—he was a warrior with a purpose.
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Naruto's growth had been nothing short of spectacular. His chakra control had improved dramatically, and he had mastered a broad range of jutsu across all five elemental natures. His shadow clones had accelerated his learning, allowing him to pick up techniques quickly. He had also learned about his parents—Minato and Kushina. While he hadn't forgiven Hiruzen, he had made a deal: "If he gives me their inheritance and treats me to ramen until I'm full, I'll think about it." Ryan had nearly cried from laughter at that one.
Naruto's primary style was Wing Chun—fast, reactive, tight-range combat. His secondary style was Capoeira—playful, unpredictable, full of rhythm. His hybrid style, "Trickster Spiral," turned battle into a show. Feints, acrobatics, and clone-driven confusion gave him a battlefield presence that was equal parts deadly and chaotic. He had become a true trickster—his movements unpredictable, his strikes overwhelming.
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Asta had grown into his body—and his power. His muscle control bordered on superhuman. After discovering that anti-magic could be transferred to any weapon passed through his grimoire, Ryan began teaching him all forms of weaponry. Asta could now fight just as effectively with a spear, staff, or axe as he did with his swords. His ability to control his anti-magic had evolved to the point where he could apply it to any weapon, making him an unstoppable force on the battlefield.
Asta's primary style was Karate—foundational strength and crushing strikes. His secondary style was Taekwondo—acrobatic kicks and flexibility. His hybrid style, "Iron Gale," combined his high-flying agility and rock-solid punches into a dynamic combat system. He had become a whirlwind of power, his movements swift and powerful, leaving enemies staggered before they could react.
---
That evening, the six of them gathered by the fire pit outside. It was a rare moment of stillness. The stars hung low above them, and the crackling of the fire was the only sound that filled the silence.
"I still remember watching Dragon Ball Z for the first time," Izuku said, smiling softly. "It made me want to fight harder… not just for power, but for people."
"Same with Solo Leveling," Asta added. "The growth—how hard he worked—it felt like my own path."
They had watched all the anime that inspired their worlds in the first few months. From Hunter x Hunter to Rurouni Kenshin, Naruto, Berserk, and Bleach. Then, one by one, they had watched their own anime. And each of them had changed. The lessons they had learned from these stories had shaped them, and the growth they had seen in themselves was reflected in the characters they had admired.
The fights they had watched weren't just flashy—they meant something. They were personal.
And though Eren didn't say much that night, his expression softened as he stared into the flames. There was a quiet understanding in his gaze. He had changed, too.
---
Later that night, Ryan stepped into his office where Albert, now fully integrated into the facility systems, was waiting. Ryan tossed a sleek envelope on the table—six bold tickets inside.
"Anicon," he said, looking up at Albert with a grin. "Earth. In six months."
Albert raised an eyebrow, curious. "Cosplay trip?"
Ryan smirked. "Nah. A celebration of who they are now… and a reminder of the worlds they came from. We've got six months to prep their costumes. Think we can manage?"
Albert's voice carried a subtle smile. "With your precision and their enthusiasm? I fear the convention isn't ready."