The training was hell.
Each day left them more exhausted than the last. Muscles screamed, bones ached, and sleep became a luxury they could barely afford. Weeks passed underground — no windows, no fresh air, no sunlight. Only pain, sweat, and the sound of their own breath.
Then came the final day.
They had been expecting more of the same thing: another tough, grueling routine designed to find what was left in the bottom of their lives. When Kuro appeared in the room, though, they sensed something was off. Calmer, but heavier than usual. He didn't move, then opened his mouth.
"Listen up."
They listened.
"You are going to fight me today instead of going through any more drills," Kuro said.
Silence.
The three gaped at each other. Was this some type of joke?
"I'll limit myself," Kuro went on. "My fists only. I can dodge, but that's all. You three can use everything at your disposal. Don't hold back."
Felix's eyes widened. "You're kidding."
Kuro didn't answer. He just gazed at them — serene, waiting.
Lindsay took a step forward. "But I. I don't have control over people. I don't—"
"No excuses," Kuro clapped back, voice cutting. "Fight. Or stand down."
Felix met Ivers's gaze. They nodded to each other.
Lindsay hesitated. Then, quietly, she stepped into formation. She didn't want to back down.
Before the match began, Kuro clarified the rules.
"I will use only my fists.
I will only dodge.
That's it."
He didn't make any other threats or promises. And it was then that Felix mumbled, under his breath, "He's insane…"
They knew how powerful he was. But to think that he would restrict the use of his powers was insane to them.
Then — "Begin when ready," Kuro said.
Not a moment passed before Felix surged forward, using his water manipulation to propel himself like a bullet. As he neared Kuro, he leapt, firing a barrage of water bullets mid-air. Kuro didn't move.
The blasts hit. Smoke and mist enveloped him.
And yet… when the vapor cleared, Kuro stood unfazed, untouched, staring at Felix with unreadable eyes.
"Is that all?" he asked. No emotion. No mockery. Just cold fact.
Felix gritted his teeth, ready to charge again, but Ivers stopped him.
"Wait. Strategy," he said. "We won't win like this."
Kuro could hear them whisper, but chose to ignore the details. He let them have their illusion of surprise.
Ivers took the lead.
Felix — your output's the strongest. We'll use you. I'll get in close, see if I can grab his attention. Take Iron Body, go full on. If I'm lucky, I might even get in a hit."
Felix nodded.
They turned to Lindsay then. She looked down.
"What can you do?" Ivers asked gruffly. "We're going to need all three of us."
She didn't say anything.
"Listen — I don't care how afraid you are. You've got a power. Use it."
She nodded. Silently.
Ivers explained the strategy: he and Felix would wear Kuro down with relentless assault. When they ran through his patterns, Lindsay would step in — employing her control power to lock him up, even for a moment.
"That second's all we'll have," Ivers said. "Make it count."
They split off into positions. Ivers went first — flailing fists, iron-reinforced punches that crashed into open air. Kuro dodged with nigh resistance, weaving between those blows like wind slipped through fissures.
Felix assisted from a distance, firing rounds of water projectiles at where he thought Kuro would go. But Kuro didn't even appear to be aware of him. He dodged past them both and took nary a scratch.
Minutes passed. They were drying up now.
Felix was wheezing. "Now!
But when he did turn, Lindsay waited.
She stood immobile. Questioning herself. Can I do this?
She drew on her assurance. They're all counting on me, she remembered.
And then she heard Ivers yell again— "Now!"
She prepared herself.
Work, please.
She used all of herself, the way that was meant to reach out, using her power to stop him. And for one-half of a heartbeat—and he did not move.
That half of a heartbeat was enough.
Felix bellowed, "Super Hydra!"
A colossal wave swept forth, water coalescing into a triple-headed dragon mid-leap, its mouth open in a roar of magical pressure. It aimed for Kuro.
He saw it. He could have dodged.
But something inside him whispered: Let them have this moment.
Still, instinct overcame sympathy. He moved.
In a blur, he disappeared and reappeared behind them, halting the match before the attack hit.
Marie was already there, watching quietly.
Before she could speak, Kuro nodded to the three of them.
"Well done," he said.
They gasped for breath, every muscle sore, but faces glowing with pride. They hadn't won — not even close — but they had done better than expected.
Marie stepped forward and announced their numbers.
"Ivers: 12% → 43%.
Felix: 27% → 49%.
Lindsay: 29%.
Kuro's glyph communicator flickered to life. A message came through — urgent.
Julie's voice crackled through: "We need you. Now."
Without a word, Kuro stepped forward, grabbed all four, and teleported them.
Not to HQ.
To the house.
Reinhard was waiting. Kuro turned to him, voice low.
"Take care of her," leaving Marie behind.
And then — he was gone again.