The first thing Arin noticed wasn't pain.
It was silence.
No sirens. No screaming. No thunderous heartbeat ricocheting through his skull. Just the quiet hum of a medical regulator beside his bed and the faint chirp of Perin sleeping curled up on his chest.
He stared at the white ceiling for a while.
Two weeks had passed.
Two entire weeks he had been unconscious, healing from injuries that, according to the nurses, "should've left him crippled, or dead." They whispered things when they thought he was still asleep.
"His ribs were shattered like glass…" "His spine showed fractures—how is he even alive?" "That aura… it wasn't Astra." "…he smiled while bleeding."
He didn't know whether to feel proud… or sick.
A soft knock came before the door slid open.
Shivani entered first.
She looked mostly recovered—still wrapped at the shoulder and with a thin scar across her cheek she hadn't bothered to hide. Her eyes held something unfamiliar… not anger. Not distrust.
Wariness. But also… a trace of relief.
"You're officially cleared for release," she said, holding a thin digital slate. "Restricted movement only. Training paused. Surveillance active."
"Surveillance?" Arin raised an eyebrow.
Riku stepped inside behind her, arms folded. "High command wants to make sure you're not going to… snap again."
"Or explode," Miran added quietly, peeking in nervously. She held a stack of healing salves like a shield.
Behind them, leaning against the wall with a huge bandage around his torso, was Goru. He gave a small nod—not overly friendly, but sincere.
"You saved us, man," Goru said simply. "Just… don't almost die with us again, okay?"
Arin blinked.
No one called him a monster.
No one asked what he was.
No one thanked him dramatically.
No one pretended nothing happened.
They just looked at him like… …a terrifying ally. …a dangerous friend. …someone who chose them during the worst moment.
Shivani tossed him a folded dark jacket bearing the MEU sigil.
"Commander's jacket," she said flatly. "For now. You're still temporary… but this proves you're not an enemy."
A pause.
Then, softer: "…Welcome back."
Arin accepted the jacket quietly.
Perin, now awake, hopped onto his shoulder proudly like some sort of miniature guardian spirit.
As Arin stood up for the first time, testing his legs, Miran rushed forward and healed a last bruise on his arm with silent concern. Riku grunted. Goru nodded again.
Shivani opened the door for him.
And just like that, Arin stepped out of the medical ward—alive, changed, and watched by eyes that no longer feared only what he might do…
…but what he might become.
"Yo."
That was all the warning Arin got before a hand landed casually on his shoulder.
He didn't need to turn. That lazy grin, that chilled-but-dangerous aura—it was unmistakable.
Om Sai.
He stood there like he had just returned from a vacation, not from nearly tearing apart an A-tier beast with his bare hands two weeks ago just to yank Arin out of bloodlust.
"Hospital food is trash," Om Sai announced with great disappointment. "Let's go get something edible before you traumatize another chef."
Before Arin could argue, Om Sai dragged him out of the corridor with one arm while waving cheerfully at the stunned nurses like this was a daily routine.
Perin clung to Arin's other shoulder like a survivor in a hurricane.
They stepped outside the compound, the evening sky bleeding in soft violet streaks. People passing by looked at Arin with a cocktail of fear and fascination. Half-whispers rippled across the street.
People passing by looked at Arin with a cocktail of fear and fascination. Half-whispers rippled across the street.
"That's him… the demon boy…" "I heard he smiled while drenched in blood…" "No, no, he was crying. Or laughing. Or both." "Shh—don't stare, idiot."
Arin kept his gaze forward. He wasn't used to being noticed. Now he was… observed.
Perin flicked his ears and puffed up defensively.
Om Sai walked beside him, hands stuffed in his pockets, not a care in the world.
"So," he said casually, "how does it feel to go from random new guy to local urban legend?"
"…Feels noisy," Arin muttered.
Om Sai laughed. "Good answer."
They reached a street stall selling spicy fried wraps. Om Sai ordered without asking Arin and shoved one into his hand the moment it was ready.
Arin took a cautious bite.
Instant explosion of pain.
He coughed so hard Perin nearly fell off.
"What the hell is in this?!"
"Tears," Om Sai replied with an angelic smile. "Specifically, your tears. Now finish it."
Despite the spice assault, Arin continued eating. It was… painful. But good. Familiar in a strange way.
For a few quiet minutes, they sat on a low wall near a quiet alley, eating.
Om Sai looked up at the sky and finally spoke in a different tone.
"That aura you unleashed… wasn't just Astra."
Arin paused.
Om Sai continued, voice low—not threatening, but sharp enough to cut truth from lies.
"I've fought Astra users. Trained them. Watched them lose control. Even killed one who awakened Form 3 before it wiped everyone in a city block."
He turned to meet Arin's eyes.
"…But you weren't just exerting willpower. You were… transforming. Something in you enjoyed that pain. That destruction. You looked like a beast remembering its original shape."
Arin didn't answer.
Om Sai didn't push.
He just leaned back, cracking his neck.
"Listen, kid. I don't know what you are. Or where you came from. But I know this much—"
He pointed at Arin's chest—the same place Kalink's phantom hand once drove power into him.
"—Whatever is inside you… is older than AND stronger than Astra. And things like that don't stay hidden forever."
A silence hung between them.
Then Om Sai smirked and stood up, stretching.
"So! Here's my advice as your training supervisor and professional bad influence…"
He slapped Arin's back, almost too cheerfully.
"Figure out who you are before some higher-up idiot decides for you… or before something out there decides you belong to them."
He started walking ahead, hands swaying lazily.
Arin stayed sitting a moment longer, gripping the half-eaten wrap in his hand.
Who am I? That question again. Back to the beginning. But this time… heavier.
Perin leaned its head against Arin's cheek as if saying, "Still here."
Arin stood, silent—and followed Om Sai back toward the city lights.
Night fell softly over the city.
After returning through the silent corridors of MEU HQ, Arin found himself unable to sleep immediately. Instead, he wandered to an open terrace area accessible to recovering soldiers. It wasn't crowded—just a few distant guards patrolling, the buzz of energy lamps humming quietly, and the deep indigo sky spreading far beyond the city dome.
Perin curled sleepily on Arin's shoulder, making soft chirring noises.
The air was cool. Calming.
But his mind was not.
He found himself standing before a large reflective window, staring at his own face.
"…Who am I now?" he whispered under his breath.
In the glass, his eyes looked… darker than before.
He remembered the battlefield: his fists cracking flesh and bone, laughter he didn't fully understand, the thrill of overwhelming destruction—the moment his bones snapped, but his smile remained.
That wasn't human. That wasn't just Astra. That was something older.
A faint memory flickered—Kalink's grin, sharp-edged and merciless, layered over his own reflection just for a second. His pupils seemed to darken, swallowing light, forming a shape not entirely his.
Arin blinked.
It was gone.
Perin nuzzled his cheek, perhaps sensing the unease. Arin stroked it softly.
"…I'm still me," he muttered, unsure if he was reassuring Perin or himself.
Below, distant voices murmured as rumors continued spreading.
"He killed it alone…" "No, something was possessing him…" "Maybe he's from the forbidden bloodlines…" "Do you think he'll lose control again?"
Even if they feared him… he was alive among them.
But would that last?
Because the more he used that power… the more it felt like something else inside him was waking up.
Something that didn't just want to fight…
…It wanted to dominate.
A cold shiver ran through him as he turned away from the window.
Just before he stepped back toward his quarters…
A pressure touched the world.
Light as a breath.
Cold as judgment.
A voice drifted—not from behind him, not inside him… but from everywhere.
"So… you survived, Echo."
Arin froze.
His heart pounded.
Not Kalink's voice.
Not Om Sai.
Not anyone human.
This voice was calm.
Ancient.
Feminine.
Elegant, yet cold like moonlight on a dead battlefield.
Before he could respond, the night air rippled faintly—as if a lotus-shaped imprint of green and black spiritual energy briefly hovered far above the sky… and vanished like mist.
Perin suddenly stiffened, claws digging into Arin's shoulder protectively, fur bristling.
Arin stood there, gaze fixed upward, breathing quietly.
He no longer wondered if someone was watching.
He now knew they were.
And whoever had whispered…
Had not spoken in surprise.
They had spoken like someone waiting for a result.
And now that he had survived…
Their game had begun.