Aetherbound

The diner was quiet, its flickering neon sign casting faint red light across the chipped tables and worn-out booths. It wasn't the kind of place where Level 5s would ever tread—not that Tenko Tomaszewski cared. He sat slouched in the corner booth, his arms folded across his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. Across from him, D.W. kicked her boots up onto the seat, her leather jacket slung lazily over one shoulder. Despite the oversized hoodie pulled over her head, her punk style was impossible to miss.

"You need to eat, big brother," she said, swirling her straw in her drink. "You look like a ghost. Or worse, like you've been stuck in a Level 3 sparring match." Tenko sighed, pushing his plate away. "Not hungry."

"You're impossible," D.W. muttered, leaning forward to pull her hood down. Wisps of her hair fell loose, dyed streaks framing her sharp features. She glanced around the diner, her gaze sharp despite her casual demeanor. "So? What's life at Altier like these days? Still getting stomped on by the hierarchy?" Tenko shrugged, his fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the table. "Nothing's changed. Still a Level 0. Still invisible to most of them. Except when they're bored and need a target." D.W.'s boots thudded to the floor as she sat up straighter. "What did they do?"

"Nothing new," Tenko said flatly. "Some Level 3s decided I'd make good practice. Fire constructs. Water whips. They think it's funny because I can't 'glow.'" Her jaw tightened. "Did you at least hit back?"

"With what?" he shot back, his voice bitter. "My Anti-Aether blood? Yeah, that'd go over well. They'd haul me off to Shoteo-Indomina before I could think of hiding." For once, D.W. didn't have a quick retort. She reached across the table, nudging his plate closer to him. "You shouldn't let them get to you. You're stronger than they'll ever understand." Tenko avoided her gaze. "Strength doesn't matter when you can't fight back." The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint buzz of the neon sign. Overhead, the TV mounted near the counter flickered, catching their attention. The newscaster's voice was tense, almost fearful.

"The Brimstone Witch has struck again," the announcer said. "S Rated Rouge. This time, targeting a civilian gathering. No provocation, no warning. Casualties are estimated to be in the dozens." The screen cut to footage of the attack. A street engulfed in flames. Shadows falling in the inferno. And at the center of it all, a woman wreathed in fire, her cold smile cutting through the chaos. She raised a hand, and the camera shook as the flames consumed everything. D.W. shook her head, muttering under her breath. "What's her deal?"

Tenko didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, his expression unreadable. Fear? Fascination? Even he wasn't sure. "It's not about them," he said finally. "She's proving something. To herself, maybe." The door to the diner swung open with a faint creak, drawing their attention. A woman stepped inside, her presence shifting the air in the room. She wasn't loud or ostentatious, but there was something about her—an effortless grace, a quiet authority that demanded attention. Her silver hair caught the light as she moved, her sharp eyes sweeping the room before landing briefly on Tenko. His breath caught.

D.W. smirked, leaning back. "So you do have a type," she teased. "Mysterious and probably dangerous." Tenko ignored her, his gaze following the woman as she took a seat at the counter. She ordered a drink, her voice low and calm, barely audible over the soft hum of the diner. "You're drooling," D.W. said, kicking him lightly under the table. Before he could retort, the diner's fragile peace was shattered. The door burst open again, this time with far less subtlety. Academy enforcers stormed in, their glowing magic circles casting eerie light against the walls. Behind them, a Zamboni mech rolled forward, its red sensors scanning the room. The mechanical voice that followed was cold and emotionless.

"Anomaly detected. Commencing retrieval." Tenko's blood ran cold. His fingers tightened into fists beneath the table as the enforcers spread out, their glowing constructs ready. D.W. grabbed his wrist, her grip firm. "Stay still," she hissed. "Don't move. Don't even breathe wrong." The mech's sensors swept across the room, stopping briefly on their booth before moving on. The tension was suffocating.

And then, she moved.

The woman at the counter stood, her presence commanding even without raising her voice. She turned to face the enforcers, her expression calm but sharp. "You're scaring the locals," she said. Her voice carried easily through the room, smooth and steady. "Why don't you take your toys and leave?" One of the enforcers stepped forward, his magic circle glowing brighter. "Ma'am, this doesn't concern you. Step aside." The woman smiled faintly, raising her hand. A faint magic circle flickered to life before her palm, its intricate patterns shifting like a living thing. Before the enforcer could react, the Zamboni mech shuddered violently, sparks flying as its circuits overloaded. Its sensors flickered, then went dark.

The enforcers froze, their glowing constructs faltering. "What… what did you just do?" one of them stammered. The woman's smile didn't waver. "Nothing much. Just a little spark." With that, she turned back to the counter, picking up her drink as if nothing had happened. The enforcers hesitated, then retreated, dragging the lifeless mech with them. Tenko stared, his heart pounding. Who was she? When the woman finally left, Tenko didn't think. He followed her outside, his curiosity overriding his fear. But she was already gone, the street empty save for a faint glow on the ground. A small letter labeled Maka lay there, its edges shimmering faintly with intricate, shifting patterns. Tenko picked it up, his fingers trembling.

The glow reflected in his wide eyes as he whispered, "What am I supposed to do with this?" Tenko returned to the booth, his mind racing as he clutched the letter tightly in his hand. D.W. glanced at him, her usual smirk replaced with a look of concern. "What happened? You look like you saw a ghost," she said, tilting her head. Her eyes flicked to the letter in his hand. "What's that?" He sat down heavily, placing the glowing letter on the table between them. "She left this. I don't know what it means." D.W. raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine it. "So the mysterious stranger named Maka leaves you a creepy glowing letter. That's... not concerning at all."

"I think she wants me to meet her," Tenko said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's no way this is random." D.W. folded her arms, her gaze narrowing. "And you're planning to go, aren't you?" Tenko hesitated, then nodded. "I have to. If she's connected to..." He glanced at the TV screen, where the footage of the Brimstone Witch's destruction still lingered in his mind. "...everything, I need to know why she's reaching out to me."

"Or she's leading you into a trap," D.W. shot back. "You're not exactly hard to bait, Tenko. Especially when it's someone who's, I dunno, mysterious and probably dangerous." Tenko didn't argue. The thought had crossed his mind, but something about the woman—about Maka—felt different. She hadn't been reckless or cruel when she faced the enforcers. If anything, she'd been... deliberate. Purposeful. That meant something. "I'll be careful," he said finally. D.W. sighed, shaking her head. "You're lucky I'm off duty. Otherwise, I'd have to break this whole idol cover just to drag you out of whatever mess you're about to jump into."

Tenko managed a faint smile. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." She smirked, ruffling his hair as she stood. "Just don't get yourself killed, okay?" A couple of days passed before Tenko saw her again. Maka stood in the same diner, leaning against the counter with a calm expression. This time, she handed him the note directly, her fingers brushing his briefly before she pulled away. "Tonight," was all it said. Below, an address was scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting. Tenko's heart raced as he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. He didn't tell D.W. this time, knowing she'd only argue. The address wasn't far—an abandoned part of the academy grounds, a place no one visited unless they had something to hide.

When night fell, Tenko made his way there. The air was cold, the faint hum of Aether generators in the distance the only sound. His breath clouded in the air as he approached the meeting point, a crumbling archway half-covered in vines. Maka was waiting for him, her silver hair catching the moonlight. She smiled faintly as he approached, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. "You came," she said, her voice low and smooth. "Good. I was hoping you'd be curious enough." Tenko stopped a few paces away, his nerves coiled tight. "Why did you give me that letter? What do you want from me?" Maka tilted her head, studying him with a mix of amusement and something darker. "Answers. And maybe... to give you a little clarity about your place in all of this."

"All of what?" Tenko asked, his voice rising slightly. "I don't even know who you are." Her smile widened slightly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You will." She turned, gesturing for him to follow as she walked toward the shadowed entrance of the archway. Tenko hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to stop. But he followed anyway. The space beyond the archway was dimly lit, the faint glow of Aether veins in the walls casting eerie patterns. Maka stopped near a small, circular clearing surrounded by broken stone pillars. She turned to face Tenko, her expression calm but unreadable. "I've been watching you, Tenko," she said. "You don't belong in this world the way it is. Not with the rules they've written for you."

Tenko frowned. "What are you talking about?" Maka stepped closer, her silver hair gleaming in the faint light. "You're different. You feel it, don't you? That no matter how much you try to blend in, the world pushes you out. You weren't made to fit their mold."

"I don't need anyone to tell me that," he muttered, his fists clenching. "I've known that my whole life."

"Good," she said, her voice soft but laced with something sharp. "Because the sooner you accept it, the sooner you'll stop letting them define you." Tenko's breath hitched. Her words struck a chord he didn't want to acknowledge. "Why do you care? Why are you even telling me this?" Maka's smile returned, small and enigmatic. "Because you're interesting. And I think you deserve a chance to see what you're truly capable of." Before he could respond, a distant sound broke the stillness—a low, mechanical hum. Tenko tensed, his eyes darting toward the source. Maka's expression didn't change, but her gaze shifted slightly.

"It seems we have company," she said calmly. "Let's make this more... educational." The low mechanical hum grew louder, reverberating through the abandoned clearing. Tenko's breath quickened as he scanned the shadows beyond the crumbling stone pillars. He could feel it—the familiar dread coiling in his chest. A Zamboni mech, or worse. His instincts screamed at him to run, but Maka stood unmoving, her sharp eyes fixed on the dark horizon. "They're coming for me, aren't they?" Tenko asked, his voice tight. Maka tilted her head, a faint smile playing at her lips. "You're not wrong," she said calmly. "But that doesn't mean you should be afraid."

"Easy for you to say," he snapped, his hands balling into fists. "You can... glow. Or whatever it is you do. I can't even fight back without making myself a bigger target." Her gaze shifted to him, her expression unreadable. "You think you're powerless because you don't fit their rules. But what if their rules were never meant for you?" Before he could respond, a red light flickered in the distance. The mechanical hum solidified into sharp, rhythmic clanks as the unmistakable silhouette of a Zamboni mech emerged from the shadows. Its clawed arms unfolded with fluid precision, its red sensors sweeping the area like a predator searching for prey. "Anomalies detected," the mech's flat, robotic voice declared. "Engaging retrieval protocol."

Tenko's stomach dropped. He stumbled back instinctively, his eyes darting between the mech and Maka. She hadn't moved an inch, her expression as calm as ever. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "We need to get out of here!" Maka finally turned to him, her silver hair catching the faint glow of the Aether veins in the stone pillars. "Running won't change anything, Tenko. You've spent your whole life running from their gaze. Maybe it's time you faced it."

"Faced it?" he repeated, his voice rising. "That thing's built to capture people like me! I don't have Aether, I don't have strength—"

"But you have something far more dangerous," Maka interrupted, stepping closer. Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the rising panic in his chest. "You just don't know how to use it yet." Before Tenko could ask what she meant, the mech lunged. Its massive claw slammed into the ground where they had stood seconds earlier, sending a shockwave through the clearing. Tenko stumbled, barely managing to keep his balance as debris flew past him. Maka moved like water, stepping effortlessly out of the mech's path. Her hand rose lazily, a faint magic circle appearing before her palm. With a flick of her wrist, a wave of force struck the mech's side, causing it to stagger but not falter. The glow of her Aether constructs illuminated the clearing, casting sharp shadows that danced across the broken pillars.

"Go!" Maka commanded, her voice sharp now. "Find the strength you've been hiding, or stay and be dragged off. The choice is yours, Tenko." He froze, his mind racing. The mech's sensors locked onto him, its claws whirring as they readied another strike. His blood burned in his veins, the familiar sensation of his Anti-Aether abilities clawing at the edges of his consciousness. He'd suppressed it for so long, fearing what might happen if anyone saw him use it. But now… "No one else is coming to save you," Maka said, her voice softer but no less urgent. "You're the only one who can decide what happens next." The mech lunged again, its claws slicing through the air. Tenko's body moved on instinct, rolling to the side as the ground where he'd stood splintered beneath the force of the impact. His hand brushed against a jagged rock, and without thinking, he dragged it across his forearm. The sharp sting of pain was immediate, followed by the warm, sticky sensation of blood.

The blood didn't fall. It hovered, shimmering faintly in the dim light, twisting and coiling like a living thing. The mech's sensors flickered as it recalibrated, its claws turning toward him once more. Tenko's heart pounded as he stared at the blood swirling before him. He hadn't used his abilities in so long, and yet they responded as if they'd been waiting for this moment. "Good," Maka said, her tone carrying a hint of satisfaction. "Now, let's see what you can really do." The mech struck, its claws descending with terrifying speed. Tenko's blood moved on instinct, hardening into a jagged barrier that caught the claws mid-swing. Sparks flew as the claws scraped against the crimson shield, but the mech didn't relent. It pushed harder, its mechanical strength threatening to shatter the barrier.

Tenko gritted his teeth, his arms trembling as he poured every ounce of focus into maintaining the shield. He could feel the strain—his blood wasn't infinite, and every second he held the barrier drained him further. The mech pulled back, recalibrating for another strike. "It's not enough," he muttered, sweat dripping down his face. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can," Maka said firmly, stepping closer. Her hand moved in a subtle gesture, and another magic circle appeared, sending a blast of force that temporarily knocked the mech off balance. She turned her gaze back to Tenko, her expression intense. "You've spent your whole life holding back. Stop fighting like you're afraid." Her words cut deep, and something inside Tenko snapped. He let out a sharp breath, his focus narrowing as he dragged the blade across his arm again. More blood spilled forth, twisting into jagged tendrils that lashed out at the mech. The tendrils struck with precision, slicing into the mech's joints and severing key mechanisms. Sparks flew as the machine shuddered, its movements growing sluggish. "There it is," Maka said softly, a faint smile on her lips.

The mech let out a final, mechanical whine before collapsing in a heap of sparking metal. Tenko stood over it, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his blood retracting into his body as the cuts on his arms slowly sealed. His entire body ached, but he couldn't deny the flicker of satisfaction that burned in his chest. "That's the strength they fear," Maka said, stepping beside him. "And now, you've seen it too." Tenko didn't respond. His gaze stayed locked on the wreckage of the mech, his hands trembling at his sides. He'd fought back. He'd won. But at what cost? Maka broke the silence with a soft chuckle, her voice low and almost warm. "You're still standing. That's more than most can say."

Tenko staggered back a step, leaning against one of the cracked stone pillars. His body screamed for rest, every muscle aching from the strain. "I didn't have a choice," he muttered. "It was either this or..."

"Be dragged off," Maka finished for him, her tone neutral. She crouched beside the remains of the mech, inspecting the severed joints with a faint smirk. "You've got more control than I expected. Impressive, considering how long you've been suppressing it." He didn't respond immediately. His eyes were fixed on his hands, the faint traces of blood lingering on his fingertips. The memory of the fight replayed in his mind—how easily his blood had moved, how natural it had felt despite the years he'd spent avoiding it. "I didn't want anyone to see," he said quietly. "Not even my sister. If they knew..."

"Then they'll fear you more than they already do," Maka interrupted, stepping closer. Her voice softened slightly, though her gaze remained piercing. "And maybe that's not such a bad thing." Tenko looked up at her, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Why are you telling me this? Why do you care?" Maka's faint smile returned, though it carried an edge of something darker. "Because you interest me, Tenko." Before he could respond, a distant sound echoed through the clearing—voices, growing louder. Maka straightened, her demeanor shifting instantly. "It seems our time is up. We should walk back." Tenko glanced at her, his expression wary. "Walk back? With those voices coming closer?" Maka tilted her head, a faint smile playing at her lips. "Exactly. Let's not make them think we're hiding anything. You'd be surprised how much people ignore what's right in front of them when you look calm."

With a flick of her wrist, she dismissed the faint glow of her Aether construct, her expression returning to its usual composed calm. Without another word, she began walking back toward the academy grounds, her steps slow but deliberate. Tenko hesitated before following. His feet felt heavy, the weight of what had just happened settling over him like a thick fog. He took a step forward, then stopped, his voice breaking the quiet. "Why didn't you leave me?" he asked, his tone uncertain, almost accusatory. "You could've walked away back there, and no one would've blamed you." Maka paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. For a moment, her silver hair caught the faint glow of the Aether veins lining the path. She turned back toward him, her expression calm but edged with curiosity. "You think I'd go through all this trouble just to leave you behind?" Tenko shook his head. "I don't know what to think. But you're... different. And I don't know why."

She studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes softening slightly. "Maybe I see potential in you," she said simply. "Or maybe I'm just curious. Either way, you're more than they've made you believe." Tenko's hands tightened into fists. The words lingered in his mind, striking a chord he wasn't ready to acknowledge. He glanced down, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not just that they think I'm weak." Maka stepped closer, her gaze locking onto his. "Then what is it?" Tenko swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. Finally, he spoke, the admission tumbling out like a confession. "It's my blood. My Anti-Aether abilities don't just counter their powers. They destroy Aether entirely. It's not normal. It's not... right." Maka's expression didn't change immediately. She listened intently, her head tilting slightly as she absorbed his words. Her eyes sharpened, though not in judgment. Instead, there was a deep, quiet focus, as if she were piecing together a puzzle only she could see. When she finally spoke, her voice was even, thoughtful.

"Not normal by their standards," she said. "But maybe that's exactly why it's important. They've built their world around Aether, around the idea that their power defines everything. You—you're the exception. You don't just challenge their rules. You rewrite them." Her words hung in the air, heavy but not oppressive. Tenko looked away, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own thoughts. "I don't want to rewrite anything. I just want to survive." Maka glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her faint smile returning. "You're still asking the wrong questions, Tenko."

"Then what's the right question?" he shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. She stopped, turning to face him fully. "Not why I'm doing this, but why you're still doubting yourself after what you just did." Tenko opened his mouth to respond but found no words. The memory of the fight still burned in his mind—the way his blood had moved, the way it had answered him like an extension of his own will. It felt powerful. It felt terrifying. "I don't doubt myself," he said finally, though the words sounded hollow even to him. Maka's expression softened, just barely. "You're not used to seeing yourself as anything other than a target. That's what they've taught you. But today, you proved them wrong." Tenko's gaze dropped to the ground, his hands clenching at his sides. "What if I don't want to be what they're afraid of?"

"Then show them something else," Maka said simply, her tone matter-of-fact. "But hiding won't change their minds. Fighting will." They resumed walking, the voices from the clearing fading into the distance. The academy's faint glow appeared ahead, its towering walls a reminder of the world Tenko was trapped in. For the first time, though, he wondered if that world might not be as unchangeable as he'd always believed. "What about you?" Tenko asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. She glanced over her shoulder, her silver hair catching the faint light. "I'll manage. This isn't the first time I've had to slip away." Her tone was light, almost amused. "But for now, you've got a lot to think about. Don't waste it." They resumed walking, the voices from the clearing fading into the distance. As the shadows deepened, Maka led them toward a quieter path that branched away from the main academy road, her movements purposeful but unhurried.

The air grew cooler, and the faint buzz of distant Aether generators was the only sound accompanying their steps. The silence felt heavy, but Tenko couldn't bring himself to break it. Each time he glanced at Maka, she seemed unfazed, her expression unreadable as always. Finally, unable to hold back, Tenko hesitated, then spoke. "Why? This path's darker. If anything happens…"

"Exactly why we should," Maka replied. Her voice dropped slightly as her eyes scanned the shadows. "The Brimstone Witch has been more active lately. Safer not to linger in the open." She hesitated, her tone softening. "Besides... I feel safer with you nearby." The statement caught Tenko off guard, and he glanced at her sharply. "Safer? With me?" He couldn't keep the skepticism from his voice. Maka shrugged, her faint smile returning. "You underestimate yourself. You just took down something most people wouldn't even stand a chance against." She gestured for him to follow. "Come on. Let's not test fate." As they moved deeper into the alley, the faint sound of footsteps caught Tenko's attention. He glanced back instinctively, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted someone near the far end of the alley. A male student from the academy stood there, half-hidden behind a stack of crates. His uniform marked him as a Level 2, and his eyes flicked between Tenko and Maka.

He muttered something under his breath, his voice barely audible. "How unlucky can one guy be?" he whispered, his gaze locking on Tenko. "Another one falling for her tricks..." Before Tenko could react, the guy ducked out of sight, his footsteps fading into the distance. His stomach churned uneasily as he turned to Maka, but her expression remained unreadable. "What was that?" he asked, his voice low. "Nothing to worry about," Maka said smoothly, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement? Or perhaps something darker. She stepped closer to Tenko, her voice softening. "We've been through a lot tonight. Let's take a moment." Tenko blinked, unsure of her sudden shift in tone. Maka leaned against the wall, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. "You know," she began, her voice quieter now, "you carry yourself like you're always ready to run. But tonight, you fought. That's worth something."

He swallowed, unsure how to respond. "I didn't really have a choice," he muttered. Maka gave a small, almost wistful smile. "There's always a choice, Tenko. You just made the right one." Her tone carried an intimacy that felt disarming, even comforting. Tenko shifted uneasily, his gaze flickering to her as he tried to decipher her expression. But Maka, as always, remained an enigma. Her gaze lingered on Tenko for a moment, her expression softening as she leaned casually against the alley wall. "You know, you're a lot quieter than most people I've met. Like you're afraid if you say too much, someone might use it against you." Tenko crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that your way of trying to get me to talk?" Her faint smile widened, though it didn't lose its enigmatic edge. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like hearing how people think. Everyone's got a story, after all." She tilted her head, her silver hair catching the faint moonlight filtering through the alley. "What's yours, Tenko?"

He hesitated, the weight of her question settling heavily on his shoulders. His fingers flexed against his arms as he looked away, his voice quiet. "You already know more than most. That should be enough." Maka pushed off the wall, taking a slow step toward him. There was no hostility in her movements, only a calm curiosity that somehow felt more disarming. "Maybe it's enough for me. But is it enough for you?" Tenko's jaw tightened. "Why does it matter? Knowing my story won't change anything. It won't make me less of a target."

"No, but it might make you less of a mystery," Maka said softly. She stopped a step away, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "And maybe it's not about what other people think. Maybe it's about you finally deciding who you want to be." Her words struck a nerve, the truth of them cutting deeper than Tenko wanted to admit. He let out a shaky breath, his hands dropping to his sides. "I don't know if I can be anything other than what I am. Every time I try... it feels like the world's already decided for me." Maka's gaze softened further, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "And what if the world's wrong?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if you're not the problem? What if the rules were broken long before you ever got here?" Tenko frowned, his brow furrowing. "And you think you're the one who gets to decide that?" Maka's smile returned, faint but knowing. "Not me. You. But you won't figure that out hiding behind their labels and their fear."

The silence that followed was thick, charged with an energy Tenko couldn't quite place. He searched her expression, looking for cracks in her calm exterior, but all he found was unwavering certainty. For a moment, he wondered if she believed in him more than he believed in himself. "You make it sound so simple," he muttered finally. "Simple doesn't mean easy," Maka replied, her voice light but firm. "But you've already taken the first step. That's more than most people ever do." She stepped back, the intimacy of the moment dissolving as she turned her gaze toward the far end of the alley. Her expression shifted slightly, the faintest trace of tension creeping into her otherwise relaxed demeanor. She glanced at Tenko over her shoulder, her lips curving into a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know," she said softly, her tone taking on an unsettling edge, "I've always been fascinated by the way people reveal themselves when they think they're safe."

Tenko frowned, a flicker of unease rippling through him. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low. Maka turned fully to face him, her silver hair catching the dim light. For a moment, she looked almost ethereal, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes now, sharp and unyielding. "You've spent your whole life hiding what makes you different," she said, her voice calm but laced with something colder. "But me? I've spent mine showing them exactly what they should fear." Tenko's stomach dropped. "What are you saying?" he whispered, the words barely audible. Maka's smile widened, and for the first time, it felt predatory. "You asked why I didn't leave you back there," she said, taking a deliberate step forward. "Maybe it's because I saw something in you. Or maybe..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her crimson-tinged eyes locking onto his. "...I wanted to see how far you'd go before you break."

The air in the alley shifted, the oppressive weight of Maka's presence growing heavier with each passing second. The faint glow of her silver hair was now tinted with fiery hues, and her previously calm expression had twisted into something feral, dangerous. "You're the Brimstone Witch," Tenko repeated, his voice hoarse with disbelief. His body screamed at him to run, but his legs felt like lead. Maka—no, the Brimstone Witch—tilted her head, her smile widening into something unnervingly sharp. "And here I thought you were clever," she purred, her voice dripping with mockery. "Don't look so surprised, Tenko. Did you really think someone like me would waste their time playing protector?" Tenko's breath quickened, his hands instinctively curling into fists. "Why?" he demanded, his voice trembling but loud enough to echo faintly in the narrow alley. "Why go through all of this? Why help me just to turn on me now?"

The Witch's laughter was low and melodic, a stark contrast to the malice in her gaze. She took a deliberate step forward, her presence filling the space between them like a predator closing in on its prey. "Help you?" she repeated, amusement lacing her tone. "Oh, sweet Tenko. I didn't help you. I pushed you. You needed a little... encouragement to see what you're truly capable of."

"Capable of what?" he shot back, his voice rising with desperation. The glow surrounding her intensified, the air around her rippling with heat. "Capable of surviving. Capable of breaking through their little system. Capable of destroying everything they've built." She took another step closer, her fiery aura flaring. "But you're still holding back, Tenko. And that's just... disappointing." Before he could respond, she moved. In the blink of an eye, the Brimstone Witch was upon him, her hand striking out with terrifying speed. Tenko barely managed to raise his arms in defense, the force of her blow sending him staggering back into the alley wall. Pain exploded across his ribs, and he coughed, struggling to catch his breath. "Fight back," she demanded, her voice a sharp command that reverberated through the alley. Flames danced at her fingertips, their heat searing the air. "Show me the strength you're so afraid of. Or are you going to prove them right and stay a victim?" Tenko gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand despite the pain radiating through his body. "I'm not afraid," he spat, dragging his knife across his forearm. Blood welled up immediately, the crimson liquid shimmering faintly as it rose into the air, twisting into jagged tendrils.

The Witch's grin widened. "There it is," she said, her tone almost reverent. "Now let's see if you can use it." She lunged again, this time with flames erupting from her palms. Tenko's blood moved instinctively, forming a swirling barrier that absorbed the brunt of the attack. The heat was intense, but his barrier held, the edges of the blood hissing as it met her fire. "Good," she said, her voice dripping with approval. "But not good enough." The flames intensified, their heat overwhelming. Tenko's barrier trembled under the onslaught, cracks forming along its surface. He pushed harder, his blood responding sluggishly as exhaustion began to set in. The cuts on his arms burned, and his vision blurred at the edges. "Is this all you have?" the Witch taunted, her fiery aura growing brighter. "After everything you've endured, after everything they've done to you, is this how you fight?"

"Shut up!" Tenko roared, his voice raw. He pushed his blood forward, the barrier dissolving into a dozen tendrils that lashed out at her. The jagged crimson lines struck with precision, aiming for her exposed joints and vital points. But the Witch was faster. Her movements were fluid, almost inhuman, as she dodged and weaved through the attacks. One tendril grazed her shoulder, and she laughed, the sound wild and unrestrained. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "That's more like it!" Tenko's heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He could feel his strength waning, the cuts on his arms bleeding more sluggishly as his body struggled to keep up. The Witch, meanwhile, seemed untouched, her fiery aura brighter than ever. "You're almost there," she said, her voice low and coaxing. "But you're still holding back. What are you so afraid of, Tenko? That you might actually win?"

Her words struck a nerve, and Tenko's vision blurred with a mix of rage and desperation. He dragged the blade across his arm again, deeper this time, the pain sharp and immediate. More blood spilled forth, pooling at his feet before rising into the air like a storm of crimson blades. The Witch's grin widened, her eyes glinting with anticipation. "That's it," she whispered. "Now show me what you can do." But Tenko hesitated, the blood swirling around him faltering for a brief moment. His breath came in ragged gasps, the strain of the fight bearing down on his trembling body. He glanced past the Witch, toward the faint outline of the alley's exit, and a desperate thought clawed its way into his mind.

Run.

He pushed the blood tendrils outward in a sudden burst, not aiming for the Witch but for the ground and walls around her. Dust and debris exploded into the air, a temporary smokescreen that obscured her fiery glow. Without waiting to see her reaction, Tenko turned on his heel and bolted, his legs screaming in protest with each step. The Witch's laughter echoed behind him, low and chilling. "Running already, Tenko?" she called out, her voice carrying easily over the chaos. "Run all you want, I'll still find you." Tenko didn't look back. His heart thundered in his chest as he sprinted through the alley, his mind racing just as fast. The narrow path twisted and turned, the dim light barely guiding his way. He stumbled over debris but forced himself to keep going, his breath ragged and uneven. Behind him, the glow of flames began to pierce through the smokescreen, flickering like a predator's gaze in the dark. The heat grew stronger, the air around him growing stifling. He knew she was close—too close.

"You can't outrun your fears, Tenko," the Witch's voice called, disturbingly calm. "And you definitely can't outrun me." Desperation clawed at him as he spotted a sharp turn ahead. He took it without thinking, his shoulder slamming into the wall as he rounded the corner. The pain barely registered over the adrenaline surging through him. The alley opened up slightly, revealing a rusted metal staircase leading to a rooftop. Tenko lunged for it, grabbing the railing and hauling himself up with what little strength he had left. Each step felt heavier than the last, his arms and legs burning with exhaustion. Below, the glow of the Witch's flames illuminated the base of the staircase, casting long, menacing shadows up the wall. "Do you really think you can hide from me?" she called, her voice echoing like a taunt. "I'm just getting started."

Tenko reached the top of the staircase, his lungs burning as he stumbled onto the rooftop. The city stretched out before him, the faint hum of Aether generators in the distance. He didn't have time to take in the view. He scanned the rooftop frantically, searching for another escape route. But the heat rose again, and he turned to see the Brimstone Witch standing at the edge of the rooftop, her fiery aura flaring brighter than ever. She had followed him effortlessly, her predatory smile never wavering. "Running was a nice try," she said, her tone almost amused. Tenko's chest heaved as he backed away, his eyes darting between the edges of the rooftop and the advancing figure of the Brimstone Witch. His mind raced, not with thoughts of escape, but with a single, searing question: What would happen to D.W. if I don't make it out of this? Images of his sister flashed through his mind—her smirking at him over breakfast, teasing him about his seriousness, the way her laugh seemed to lighten the weight of the world. If he died here, what would she do? How would she live, knowing he wasn't there to protect her anymore? To ground her?

She'd be alone, he realized, the thought cutting deeper than any blade. I can't let that happen. But his thoughts were shattered by the searing heat that swept toward him. The Witch's flames licked at the edges of the rooftop, her aura growing brighter, hotter, as she closed the distance. Her smile widened as she raised her hand, a torrent of fire coiling at her fingertips. "You're distracted, Tenko," she said, her tone almost teasing. "That'll get you killed." Tenko moved, his instincts screaming at him to dodge. He threw himself to the side just as a column of fire erupted where he had been standing. The heat singed his skin, and the force of the blast sent him rolling across the rooftop. He groaned, forcing himself to his knees, but the Witch was already advancing. "You're so predictable," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "Always running. Always afraid. And yet, you're still trying, aren't you? How... admirable." Tenko gritted his teeth, dragging his knife across his arm again. Blood spilled forth, slower now, sluggish with exhaustion. He forced it to rise, twisting it into jagged shapes that hovered protectively around him. The effort made his head spin, but he couldn't stop now. Not when so much was at stake.

The Witch stopped, tilting her head as she studied him. "Still holding back," she murmured, almost disappointed. "Let me show you what happens when you don't commit."

And then she struck.

The fire erupted from her hands in a wave of blinding heat, tearing through Tenko's blood constructs as if they were paper. He barely had time to react before she closed the distance, her hand plunging forward like a spear. Pain exploded in his side as her flames seared through him, the force of the blow lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing to the ground. Tenko gasped, blood pooling beneath him as he clutched at his wound. His vision blurred, the edges darkening as the searing pain consumed his thoughts. The Witch loomed over him, her fiery aura casting long, jagged shadows across the rooftop. "That's more like it," she said softly, her voice almost gentle. "Now you're starting to understand." Tenko's breathing was shallow, each inhale sharp and ragged as his blood seeped across the rooftop. His vision wavered, but the fire surrounding the Brimstone Witch burned with cruel clarity. Her expression was no longer amused but filled with cold satisfaction. She crouched slightly, leaning closer to him.

"You know what's funny?" she said, her tone light, almost conversational. "I actually liked you, Tenko. You're stubborn, resourceful, and just broken enough to be interesting. But you're also predictable. Always thinking about someone else. Your sister, right? You think she'll make it without you?" Her words cut deeper than the wound in his side, and Tenko's eyes widened despite the pain. "Don't…" he managed to gasp, his voice barely audible. The Witch's grin widened. "Oh, I'm not going to hurt her. No, no. That's not my style. But the thought of her out there, struggling without you…" She trailed off, her eyes gleaming with mock sympathy. "It's almost tragic, isn't it?" Tenko's body screamed in protest as he tried to move, to rise, but the pain was overwhelming. He grit his teeth, blood dripping from his lips as he glared up at her. "Shut up," he hissed, the words weak but venomous. The Witch laughed again, a sound that echoed across the rooftop like a haunting melody. "Oh, Tenko. You're in no position to make demands."

Before she could strike again, the air suddenly shifted. A deafening, unnatural roar echoed across the rooftop, drowning out the sounds of the flames and the chaos. The sky above seemed to darken unnaturally, and a sharp, piercing wind cut through the battlefield, carrying with it an almost otherworldly chill. The Brimstone Witch froze mid-motion, her fiery aura flickering erratically as she turned her gaze skyward. Her expression twisted into one of confusion and frustration, her confidence wavering for the first time. "What is this?" she snarled, her voice laced with disbelief. A ripple of energy surged through the air, invisible but tangible, and a spectral blade—ethereal and glowing with a pale, ghostly light—shot down from above. It struck the Witch with unerring precision, piercing her chest. The flames around her exploded outward in a chaotic burst, and she let out a guttural cry of pain. The energy around her cracked and faltered, her once-blazing aura dimming as she staggered backward. Blood spilled from the wound, dark and searing against the rooftop, as she clutched at it with trembling hands. Her eyes, wide with shock, darted around the rooftop as if searching for the source of the attack.

"No..." she hissed, her voice a mix of fury and disbelief. "This isn't… possible." The spectral blade dissolved into mist, leaving only the gaping wound and the unnatural silence that followed. The Witch's knees buckled, and she collapsed onto one knee, her fiery glow now little more than a flicker. She looked up at the sky, her gaze burning with a mix of hatred and something else—a strange, almost reluctant respect. "You..." she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "You have no idea what you've done..." Before Tenko could respond, the Witch's body slumped forward, collapsing onto the rooftop with a heavy thud. Her fiery aura flickered one last time before extinguishing entirely, leaving only the faint glow of embers in her wake. Blood pooled around her motionless form, her once-overwhelming presence now eerily quiet. Tenko groaned, his body heavy and unresponsive as he slumped back against the rooftop. His vision blurred, the edges darkening with exhaustion and pain. He thought of D.W. again, her face sharp in his fading consciousness. I can't leave her. Not like this.

In the distance, a faint shout broke through the haze of his thoughts. Someone below had spotted the flames and was calling for help. The sound grew louder, joined by hurried footsteps and the clanging of metal. Tenko's eyes fluttered shut, his grip on reality slipping as the voices drew closer. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the faint glow of the city lights, flickering like distant stars. Tenko's awareness flickered in and out as he drifted through the haze of pain and exhaustion. The sound of muffled voices broke through the void, distant yet urgent. "He's losing too much blood!" a panicked voice said, barely cutting through the fog. The faint sensation of being moved registered somewhere in the back of Tenko's mind. He couldn't tell where he was, couldn't see past the blurred shapes that flitted across his dim vision. His body felt impossibly heavy, each breath a struggle against the encroaching darkness.

He caught snippets of conversation, though the words didn't fully connect.

"The wound's too severe… we need to stabilize him."

"We can use her Aether Channel… it's still functional. We could—"

"That's illegal!" another voice hissed. "If this gets out—"

"He'll die if we don't. Are you willing to explain that to the academy?"

A sharp, metallic sound echoed through the room, followed by the faint hum of machinery. Tenko tried to move, to say something, but his body refused to respond. The only thing he could do was listen as the voices continued above him. The lead doctor paused, glancing over at the assisting staff. "He has no immediate family to make the call, and his sister is too young to take responsibility. That leaves this decision to me." He exhaled sharply, his gaze hardening. "Prep the channel. I'll take full responsibility for this procedure." The room fell silent except for the hum of machinery and the frantic beep of monitors. The tension was palpable, but the staff moved swiftly, their hands steady despite the gravity of the moment. The doctor leaned over Tenko's still form, the glow of the Aether equipment casting sharp shadows across his face. "Stabilize his vitals," he ordered. "We need to ensure the transplant takes immediately."

As the procedure began, the glow of Aether constructs pulsed in the dimly lit room. The doctor worked meticulously, sweat dripping down his brow as he implanted the channel into Tenko's damaged system. "It's in," one of the assistants said, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and apprehension. "Vitals are stabilizing." For a moment, the room held its collective breath. The monitors' beeping slowed to a steady rhythm, signaling that Tenko's body was accepting the transplant. The doctor straightened, pulling off his gloves as he observed the boy's motionless form. Then, without warning, Tenko's right eye shot open. The room froze as everyone turned to look. His iris glowed faintly, the unmistakable fiery hue of the Brimstone Witch's own eyes. Pain flared briefly through Tenko's chest, sharp enough to cut through the fog. His breath hitched, but the sensation faded just as quickly, replaced by an overwhelming numbness. The voices grew distant again, and the hum of the machinery seemed to blend into the darkness enveloping him.

A single thought surfaced in his mind before unconsciousness claimed him completely: D.W... stay safe.