Chapter Five: Time Gap, part two

The air around him grew heavy, a suffocating sense of sorrow that made even the wind hesitate. Yozora’s aura transformed, trails of blue light traced his movements, leaving afterimages that coruscated like ghost in the night. His once-steady demeanor was now eclipsed by an unearthly intensity, his starry eyes glowing faint periwinkle hues.

Yozora’s Hindo radiated from him in waves, crashing against the surroundings with the weight of a collapsing star. It was deeply sorrowful, resonating with grief that seemed to stretch across lifetimes. Those near him would feel it—a profound, inescapable sadness, like standing at the edge of infinity and realizing one’s insignificance. And yet, within that sadness, there was beauty: the interconnectedness of all things, the cyclical nature of life and death, and the delicate balance of the cosmos.

As Yozora aura began to settle he beheld a katana, the hilt wrapped in deep night-blue cloth, its texture soft and tattered, speckled with tiny silver threads that scintillate like stars against the infinite darkness of the night sky. The blade itself was sleek and slightly curved, its surface reflecting both light and darkness in an ever-shifting dance. Patterns resembling constellations ran along its edge, glittering faintly whenever caught in the light. At the blade’s tip, the steel became translucent, fading into a ghostly transparency. The guard of the katana adorned twelve interlocking circles, the first circle, illuminated with a brilliant silver-blue light, pulsed gently, signifying the activation of Sutā Geizā no Yaiba—the Blade of the Star Gazer.

An unknown voice echoed, confused and distraught, "Where am I? How long have I been in slumber?"

Yozora froze, startled by the voice resonating within him. "Who are you? Why are you in my head?"

The voice grew excited. "That voice… Master Yozora, have you returned?"

Yozora, though calm, furrowed his brow. "Yes, but I don’t know who you are. My memories are gone… I’m sorry."

The unknown voice sighed, its tone heavy with regret. "It would seem I failed in protecting my master. You have nothing to apologize for. I am Sutā Geizā—Star Gazer—the first mirror and eldest of the Twelve Mirrors. My siblings remain in slumber, it seems."

Yozora groaned, facepalming. "Old man, you never said my Raimu could talk."

Zephyr, his face a mixture of shock and confusion, exclaimed, "Zora! Your Raimu can talk? That was never recorded in any data—or something we’d ever know!"

Suddenly, Sutā Geizā’s voice became stern as it spoke, trembling with a strange energy. "Safety protocol initiated. The master would never disclose such information lightly. If you are truly the Master of the Junikagami—the Twelve Mirrors—you must prove yourself worthy."

Yozora, now speaking aloud, tried to reason. "Wait, what are you talking about? I don’t even have my memories! How am I supposed to prove myself? I don’t even remember creating this protocol! Sutā Geizā—"

Before he could finish, Yozora’s body collapsed, falling limp.

Zephyr dashed forward instinctively but was thrown back by a sudden surge of dense Hindo energy that enveloped Yozora’s body like a storm.

Panic overtook Zephyr’s face as he shouted, "Selene! What the hell is going on?!"

Selene, calm and unbothered, walked over with a bemused expression. "What’s the big deal, honey? Why are you yelling?"

Zephyr’s voice was sharp, almost accusing. "What do you mean, ‘What’s the big deal?’ Don’t you see Zora? He just collapsed! Why are you so calm about this?"

Selene smirked knowingly. "Oh, this was expected. The Junikagami activated its safety protocol. Present Yozora doesn’t remember, but in the past, he told only Enola and me about the mirrors’ ability to communicate. I’m sure Yozora was confused and asked Sutā Geizā something he shouldn’t have. As a result, Sutā Geizā initiated the trials."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Zephyr’s face twisted with shock and anger. "Trials? What trials?! What happens if he fails?"

Selene’s tone turned serious, her smirk fading into a slight frown. "If Yozora cannot defeat Sutā Geizā in the trials, his Toro and the Junikagami will cease to exist."

Zephyr’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Cease to exist?! You mean he could die? You knew about this and didn’t think to mention it?!"

Selene stepped forward and embraced Zephyr gently, her voice soft yet firm. "It wasn’t my information to give. If Yozora wanted you to know, he would have told you himself. Besides, Yozora will return. You underestimate how capable he truly is. Trust him and watch over him."

She leaned back slightly, a small, confident smile playing on her lips. "Now, you won’t have to teach him about Sutā Geizā. Yozora will learn firsthand just how powerful the Junikagami truly is."

Zephyr said nothing, his jaw tight with frustration as his eyes lingered on Yozora’s still form, surrounded by the swirling Hindo.

Meanwhile, Yozora, disoriented and frustrated, muttered to himself, “Where the hell am I? Yoooo, Sutā Geizā, come on, man. This is bullshit. I have no idea what’s going on here!”

A voice answered from behind him, cool and disdainful. “Defiantly different. Your Toro output is barely existent. Not worthy.”

Startled, Yozora spun around, shocked that someone had managed to sneak up on him. “Sutā Geizā, let’s talk—” His words faltered, his breath stolen by the figure before him.

Standing in an ethereal glow was a pale, imposing figure. A man, about 6’2” (188 cm), with a lean yet muscular frame that exuded elegance and power. His silvery-white hair cascaded in flowing waves past his shoulders, framing piercing golden irises flecked with crimson. He wore a high-collared black and crimson coat embroidered with silver runes, paired with fitted leather armor reinforced by intricate dark steel plates. His knee-high boots and a crimson sash tied at his waist complemented the elegant yet deadly longsword resting at his side.

Before Yozora could fully process what he was seeing, a powerful kick connected with his stomach, sending him staggering backward and coughing up blood. The impact was so fierce it echoed in the air. Somewhere outside Yozora's mind, Zephyr, observing from afar, could see the blood dripping from Yozora’s lips.

“Why the hell did you do that for!” Yozora shouted, clutching his abdomen, gasping for air.

Sutā Geizā’s expression remained unreadable, his voice calm and cutting. “If you don’t defeat me, we’ll cease to exist. I’d never allow such a weak being to wield myself or the other mirrors. You aren’t even worthy of my blade. I will defeat you with my body alone.”

Yozora’s frustration gave way to resolve. He straightened, his breathing steadying, and his eyes burned with determination. “I get it. You’re looking down on me. Well, guess what? I’m about to wipe that smug look right off your face. While I don’t remember my past, I do know this—I’ve mastered just about every martial art in the world, weapons included. If you just want to throw hands, I’ll beat you with my jab alone.”

The air between them thickened with tension, the unspoken challenge igniting like a spark in a powder keg.

Sutā Geizā smirked, his expression dripping with condescension. “So, Yozora,” he taunted, his voice sharp and deliberate, “let’s see if you’re even a shadow of what you once were. Or is all that talk just hot air?”

Yozora didn’t respond, his face cold and unreadable. His narrowed eyes locked onto Sutā Geizā, studying him with the precision of a predator sizing up its prey.

Without warning, Sutā Geizā surged forward, closing the distance in an instant. His fist shot toward Yozora’s face, fast and unrelenting.

“Someone’s been asleep too long,” Yozora muttered, shifting back just in time to evade the strike.

Sutā Geizā didn’t relent, pressing his advantage with a flurry of attacks. His fists and legs moved in a relentless rhythm of jabs, hooks, and kicks, each strike faster and more aggressive than the last. But Yozora stayed calm, his movements fluid and deliberate. He sidestepped, ducked, and deflected with effortless precision, his hands meeting Sutā Geizā’s blows only when necessary.

"Is that all you’ve got? I may not remember who I was, but don’t get it twisted. I trained every single day in all types of sports—golden gloves in boxing, unmatched internationally across the board." Sutā Geizā sneered, though his grin faltered as Yozora continued to evade his relentless onslaught.

The sound of their clash filled the air—a symphony of fists meeting flesh, feet skidding and pounding the ground. Yozora’s evasive tactics only seemed to fuel Sutā Geizā’s growing frustration. His strikes, once sharp and disciplined, grew heavier and sloppier with each miss.

Then it happened.

Yozora’s starry eyes began to swirl with a brilliant, cold, glow. The shift was immediate, the faint trace of humanity in his gaze vanished, replaced by something cold, dark and menacing.

Sutā Geizā’s next punch was slower than it should have been—or perhaps Yozora had simply become faster. With unnerving precision, Yozora slipped inside the attack, his movement smoother than silk, as though time itself bent to his will.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

Yozora’s right arm drew back, his fist tightening like the coiling of a predator preparing to strike. And then—he unleashed it. A single, devastatingly swift jab.

To Sutā Geizā, it was more than a punch. In the heartbeat before impact, his vision twisted and warped. The fist rushing toward him seemed to swell into an enormous, spectral projection—a towering hand bearing the word "DEATH" etched across its surface. The aura emanating from it radiated inevitability. "My master has indeed returned," Sutā Geizā murmured, his voice trembling.

The strike landed.

The resulting shockwave ripped through the air, a thunderous force that sent Sutā Geizā hurtling backward. His body slammed into the ground, skidding across the dirt until he came to a painful stop. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, the sheer impact leaving him momentarily paralyzed.

Yozora stood motionless, his arm still extended as the faint glimmer of cold energy dissipated. Slowly, he lowered his fist, his expression unreadable.

"You talk too much, making me do all this," he said, his voice low and calm, barely above a whisper.

Sutā Geizā coughed, his body trembling as he propped himself up on one elbow. The arrogance was gone from his face, replaced by a mix of awe and fear. He stared at Yozora as though seeing him for the first time.

“You have become worthy of me,” Sutā Geizā said, his tone reverent. “But the other mirrors will undoubtedly challenge your ability to wield them. Until then, I shall accompany you with all that I am.” He managed a weak, relieved smile. “Welcome back, young master.”