Gilded Ashes: When Shadows Reign

The cut was too clean.

A perfect diagonal slice ran from the base of the neck down through the shoulder. There was no jagged edge, no half-torn plates. Just a smooth, perfect line.

The body stood for a second longer, as if confused. Then the glow along its spine flickered.

Cracks of light ran across the scales like breaking glass.

The entire construct shuddered once.

Then it began to come apart.

Not like before. Not slow, regenerative adjustments.

This was collapse.

Plates crumbled into drifting shards of Eon. Wings dissolved into threads. The whole huge shape unraveled, peeling away into bright particles that rose and faded into thin air, leaving only scorch marks and deep claw grooves behind.

The head went last.

The cracked blue eyes dimmed. For a heartbeat, Raizen thought he saw something like… Relief in them.

Then they became light and were gone.

Silence hit the training ground like a second impact.

The bell finally stopped ringing.

For a moment, all Raizen could hear was his own breathing and the distant buzz of overloaded drones.

"Bravooo!" Atman's voice cut through the quiet, clapping again, same slow rythm. "Now that is an ending!"

Raizen's heart pounded in his ears.

That was not him.

He knew his own strikes.

He knew what it felt like to hit too shallow, to grind against armor, to cut just enough. His whole body had been ready for the impact, for the jolt up his arms when his blades met something that didn't want to open.

This had felt like falling through a doorway someone else had already cut.

He looked down at his hands.

Both blades were clean. No marks in the Luminite pulse. No stains.

He pushed himself to his feet slowly.

Voices were rising now. From the edges of the training zone. From the stairwells and paths where students and instructors had been held back.

A small flood of people poured toward the platforms, slowing only when they reached the first barriers.

"Drones, replay that!" someone shouted. "That was so awesome!"

One of the hovering devices beeped and projected a shaky, holographic replay into the air. From that distance, all anyone would see was the Neoshima boy dropping from the ceiling, twin swords flashing, and the beast's head coming off in one smooth cut.

From that angle, there was no second line.

"Did you see that?" a student yelled. "Straight through the neck!"

"That visitor did it?"

"What kind of amplification was that? Holy beast!"

Raizen's jaw tightened.

He could have said something.

He could have raised a hand and told them all he had felt his strike fail before it landed. That someone else, somewhere, had made up the difference.

That the kill was not his.

Someone realized – no, calculated - that he was going to fail before even he did.

But who would believe him?

Because that would mean admitting loudly, in front of Atman, in front of Ukai, that there was someone out there who had held a blade sharper than his and chosen to hide.

Atman reached him in a few quick steps, robe brushing the scarred wood. His face was bright now, almost delighted.

"You undersell yourself far too much" the professor said, clapping a hand once on Raizen's shoulder. "I was not expecting that level of control. You saw the opening, adjusted mid descent and committed. Brrrrilliant!"

"That is not what happened" Raizen said quietly.

Atman tilted his head.

"Oh?"

"I did not cut that deep" Raizen insisted. "I felt it. There wasn't enough power. The armor is too thick, the regen too fast. Someone else -"

"Raizen" Atman said, voice dropping low. "Everyone here saw you drop from the ceiling and remove the beast's head in a strike. The recordings will show the same. Do you really want to stand here and argue with the evidence, in front of everyone? Stop being so humble!"

Raizen's fingers tightened on his hilts.

"I know what I felt" he whispered, for himself. Nobody heard these words.

Atman held his gaze for a long second.

The Chasmis eye flickered, lines moving fast.

"Never lie to yourself about your limits. That is how people die."

He stepped back and turned to the nearest instructor, voice lifting in an easy, professional tone.

"Beast is neutralized" he called. "Zone C can begin shutdown. Get a full diagnostic on the residual pattern. I want to see the logs on that regen loop! That was fascinating…"

Instructors started barking orders. Drones drifted lower, scanning the scorched platform, the dissolving remains.

Students murmured, some glancing at Raizen with a mix of awe and caution.

He looked like a stranger even to them now.

"Raizen!" someone yelled.

He turned.

A pair of junior students stared at him from one of the intact platforms, faces flushed. One of them waved too hard.

"That was insane!" she shouted. "How did you cut through that?"

Raizen opened his mouth.

Nothing useful came out.

"We… had a good angle" he said finally. "And I got lucky! I saw everything!"

"Lucky?" the other scoffed. "Sure. Whatever you say."

More people pushed closer.

Questions fired from different directions.

"What pattern do your swords use?"

"Was that pure Eon or a Luminite-related technique?"

"Do all Neoshima students move like that?"

Raizen's head buzzed.

He stepped back, trying to make space.

Atman said something he did not quite catch. Someone else laughed. A few students reached like they wanted to clap him on the shoulder.

He didn't care.

Because in the gaps between bodies, one detail slipped through.

A cloak.

Not the layered green and brown of Ukai uniforms. Not an instructor's cut.

A simple, straight, black cloak. No crest. No visible rank.

The figure wearing it stood just beyond the first line of students, at the mouth of one of the side corridors. The hood was up, hiding most of the face.

They were turned sideways, as if already preparing to leave.

Raizen's chest tightened.

He knew, with the same quiet certainty he had felt in the air before his strike, that this person had been watching.

That they were leaving now that the beast was gone.

He stopped listening to the voices in front of him.

Someone asked another question. Someone else tried to get his attention again.

Raizen ignored them.

He stepped past a student.

Then another.

"Raizen?" Atman called. "Where are you going? These kids have a ton of questions for you-"

He did not answer.

He slid through a gap between two instructors, shoulder brushing one of their arms. The man turned, but Raizen was already past.

The black cloak shifted, turning away.

The figure walked into the corridor at a calm pace, like they had all the time in the world.

Raizen sped up.

"Hey!" a voice snapped behind him. "Zone C is still restricted, you can't just -"

Raizen kept sprinting.

The crowd blurred into colors at the edges of his vision. The training rings, the scarred platforms, Atman's pale eye - all of it fell away.

All he could see was the dark cloth moving ahead of him.

Who was he? Or who was she?

His boots hit the smoother floor of the corridor. The noise from the training grounds dulled instantly, swallowed by wood and walls.

The figure did not look back.

"Wait!" Raizen called, breath sharp.

The cloak turned a corner, disappearing from sight.

Raizen pushed himself faster, legs burning, sword hilts bumping at his sides.

He reached the corner and swung around it, eyes searching.

The hallway ahead was empty.

No cloak.

No footsteps.

Nothing.