The training grounds of Seisen Academy.

Zin’s heart pounded as he stepped onto the familiar grounds, his surroundings flooding him with a mix of nostalgia and dread. The wooden training dummies stood upright, their surfaces worn from countless blows, and the sparring mats were freshly laid out, still dotted with the scuff marks from his fellow students. The air was filled with the faint, distant clanging of swords, and for a moment, Zin felt like a child again—small, unsure, and powerless.

But this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

"This... can't be happening," Zin whispered, his voice trembling as he looked down at his hands. His breath caught in his throat when he saw his thin arms and small, trembling fingers—these weren’t the hands of the warrior he had become. These were the hands of a boy, weak and frail, just as they had been all those years ago.

Panic gripped him as he glanced around the training yard, his heart racing as he took in every detail. He remembered this place vividly. The cobblestone paths, the rows of students sparring in the distance, the faint breeze brushing against his skin—it was all too real. But none of it should have been. This wasn’t the present.

It was the past.

Zin’s eyes locked onto the two figures standing at the far end of the training yard, and his breath hitched. His older brother, Kaito, and their master, Hanzo, were locked in a sparring match, their Seisen energy flaring as they moved with fluid grace. Kaito’s every move was sharp, precise, his form perfect. Hanzo, the wise and silent master, blocked each strike with ease, offering gentle corrections and encouragement between exchanges. The bond between them was palpable, a shared strength that Zin had always longed to have.

Zin’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. He had idolized Kaito, always striving to match his older brother’s strength, skill, and ease with which he mastered Seisen. But Zin had always fallen short. Kaito had been the pride of their family, while Zin was the boy who stood on the sidelines, too afraid to step into the ring.

And just like that day, the sky above began to darken.

The bright, clear sky was suddenly swallowed by ominous clouds, rolling in with unnatural speed, heavy and thick. Zin’s stomach dropped. He knew what was coming next. The air grew heavier, thicker, until it felt like a weight pressing down on his chest. Zin’s heart raced in panic, his breaths quick and shallow.

"No... please, no," Zin whispered, backing away as he watched the scene play out just as it had all those years ago.

In the distance, a massive wave of dark energy surged toward them, crackling with malevolence. It was the same destructive force that had wiped out the academy all those years ago, the same darkness that had stolen everything from him. Zin’s legs felt like lead as he tried to move, but his body wouldn’t respond.

The wave of dark energy swept through the academy like a storm, swallowing buildings, trees, and people in its wake. Zin could only watch, helpless, as his fellow students were reduced to ash, their bodies disintegrating in an instant. Their screams echoed in his ears, but there was nothing he could do.

And then it came for Kaito and Hanzo.

"Fight!" Zin screamed, though he knew his voice wouldn’t reach them. He stood frozen, his body trembling as he watched his brother and master face the overwhelming darkness. Kaito’s Seisen flared as he threw himself at the energy, trying to block it, to push it back. Hanzo’s face remained calm, his movements precise, but Zin could see it—the realization that it was hopeless.

Zin’s heart shattered as the darkness consumed them both, their Seisen lights flickering out like candles snuffed by the wind.

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"You survived because you were too weak to die with them."

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, curling around him like a snake, mocking him with its venomous tone. Zin’s fists clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the weight of those words crushed him.

"This isn’t real," he whispered, but his voice wavered with doubt. His legs buckled beneath him as the scene replayed again, the wave of dark energy sweeping through the academy, destroying everything and everyone. Again and again, Zin watched as his brother and master were swallowed by the darkness, each time leaving him more broken, more helpless.

"You were weak then, and you’re weak now," the voice sneered, louder this time, its malice sinking deep into Zin’s heart. "You’ve always been a failure. You should have died with them."

Zin’s body trembled as guilt and shame weighed him down, suffocating him. He had lived with this pain for years, training every day, pushing himself to the edge, trying to become stronger so he could honor those he had lost. But no matter how far he had come, the truth was inescapable.

He had been too weak to save them.

"You’ll always be the boy who watched from the sidelines, too scared to fight, too weak to act."

Tears stung at Zin’s eyes, his chest tightening as the scene played out once more. But this time, something deep within him began to stir. A flicker of defiance. A spark of strength that had been forged through years of hardship, loss, and relentless training. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t who he was anymore. These memories—this nightmare—did not define him.

With a roar, Zin’s body erupted in a brilliant blue light, his Seisen energy surging through him with a power that sent shockwaves across the training grounds. The shadows flickered and wavered, the illusion cracking under the weight of his energy.

"I’m not that boy anymore!" Zin bellowed, his voice filled with fury and conviction. The light of his Seisen flared brighter, tracing powerful lines across his skin as it pulsed with energy.

The blue light intensified, and with a final surge, Zin shattered the illusion. The training grounds dissolved into nothingness, the voices silenced, the shadows banished. He stood tall, his breath heavy, his heart pounding in his chest, but his mind was clear.

He was back in the pit.

At the same time, Zeke was trapped in a different nightmare. He stood once again in the familiar training grounds of the Aegis Guild, his body younger, stronger, unscarred by the years of battle. Before him stood three figures—his students, Kai, Naoko, and Riku—each one filled with potential, each one eager to prove themselves.

Zeke’s heart ached as he watched them spar, their faces brimming with determination and hope. It was the same as that day, the day everything had gone wrong.

"You let them die."

The words slithered into his mind like poison, wrapping around his thoughts, suffocating him with guilt. Zeke stood frozen, unable to move, as the scene unfolded just as it had before. A simple sparring match had turned deadly. Naoko had been killed, and in his grief, Kai had lost control. Zeke could still see the madness in Kai’s eyes as he turned on Riku, killing him in cold blood.

Zeke had been forced to fight his own student that day. He had won, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to kill Kai. Even with all the bloodshed, all the loss, Zeke had let him go.

"You were weak," the voice hissed, louder now, its malice seeping into every corner of his mind. "You should have killed him. You let him walk away, and because of that, more lives were lost."

Zeke’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white. The scene played again, and again, each time more vivid, more painful. He saw Naoko’s lifeless body, Kai’s wild eyes, Riku’s blood-soaked face. The voice whispered relentlessly, reminding him of his failure.

"You let him live, and now their blood is on your hands."

The guilt gnawed at Zeke’s heart, the weight of it threatening to crush him. He had carried this burden for years, haunted by the thought that his decision had led to more suffering. He had chosen mercy, and in doing so, he had condemned Kai to a life of madness and guilt.

But even as the voices tried to break him, Zeke felt something stir deep within. His decision, his choice to believe in redemption, had come from a place of compassion, not weakness. He had chosen to believe that there was still good in Kai, that the boy could be saved. And despite the pain, despite the loss, Zeke still believed that his choice had been right.

"I made my choice," Zeke said, his voice low but resolute. "And I stand by it."

The illusion flickered, the voices growing fainter, more distant. Zeke’s massive frame tensed as he pushed through the hallucination, his mind clearing, his resolve strengthening.

With a grunt, Zeke broke free from the illusion, the training grounds dissolving into nothing. He stood beside Zin in the pit, their eyes locking.

Both of them had faced their inner demons, their darkest fears, and they had emerged stronger. But the battle outside wasn’t over. Not yet.