The whisper lingered in the air, a faint echo that sent chills down Kairo's spine. He turned in place, his eyes scanning every corner of the dim apartment. The shadows seemed to press closer, their edges curling like smoke, but there was no clear source of the sound.
"Kairo..."
The voice came again, softer this time, almost tender. But there was something beneath its surface—something sharp and cold, like the edge of a blade hidden beneath silk.
"Who's there?" Kairo called out, his voice hoarse.
No answer.
He backed toward the kitchen, his hand fumbling for anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed around a heavy frying pan, and he held it up defensively. The absurdity of the gesture wasn't lost on him, but in that moment, he didn't care.
"Kairo, relax."
The calm, familiar voice startled him, and he spun to find Zephyr leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed. The man's silver hair caught the faint light from the streetlamp outside, giving him an otherworldly glow.
"What the hell, man?" Kairo snapped, lowering the pan but not letting go of it. "You can't just sneak up on me like that!"
Zephyr raised a brow, his lips twitching in amusement. "Sneaking implies effort. I simply walked in."
"Through a locked door?"
Zephyr didn't respond, and the silence was all the answer Kairo needed.
The tension in the room didn't ease. If anything, Zephyr's presence only heightened it. Kairo could feel the energy in the air, a subtle hum that seemed to resonate with the golden spark inside him. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was overwhelming, like trying to hear his own thoughts in a crowded room.
"What's happening to me?" Kairo demanded, his frustration bubbling over. "And don't give me any more riddles. I need real answers."
Zephyr sighed, pushing off the doorway and stepping into the room. "Very well. I suppose you've earned that much."
He gestured for Kairo to sit, and after a moment of hesitation, Kairo complied, sinking into the couch. Zephyr remained standing, his pale blue eyes sharp and unyielding.
"What you experienced last night was an awakening," Zephyr began. "Aeterna, the energy that flows through all living things, has always been within you. But only a rare few ever manage to unlock its full potential. You are one of those few."
Kairo frowned, his grip tightening on the frying pan. "So what, I'm some kind of chosen one?"
Zephyr smirked. "Hardly. Your awakening was likely the result of extreme circumstances—trauma, desperation, perhaps even fate. But whatever the cause, the result is the same. You are now a beacon of light in a world filled with shadows."
Kairo shook his head, his mind racing. "That doesn't explain what those... things were. The shadows."
"They are the Abyss's answer to your light," Zephyr said simply. "When a being like you awakens, it disrupts the balance of power. The shadows are drawn to your energy, seeking to consume it. Left unchecked, they will devour you—and anyone close to you."
The weight of Zephyr's words hit Kairo like a punch to the gut. He thought of Lina, of the way she'd clung to him last night, her voice trembling with fear.
"What do I do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You fight," Zephyr said, his tone unwavering. "You learn to control your Aeterna, to harness it as a weapon and a shield. Only then will you have a chance of surviving what's to come."
Kairo swallowed hard. "And you're going to teach me?"
"Yes," Zephyr replied, "but only if you're willing to learn. This path is not easy, Kairo. It will demand everything from you—your strength, your focus, even your soul. If you falter, the shadows will take everything you hold dear."
The room fell silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on Kairo like a physical force. He thought of Lina, of her unwavering trust in him. He couldn't let her down.
"I'll do it," he said finally, his voice steady. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."
Zephyr nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. Then we begin immediately."
The training started in the most unexpected way: silence.
Zephyr led Kairo to the center of the living room and instructed him to sit cross-legged on the floor. The older man lit a single candle and placed it between them, the flickering flame casting long shadows across the walls.
"Close your eyes," Zephyr said.
Kairo hesitated. "Why?"
"Because if you don't, the candle might explode," Zephyr said dryly.
"What?!"
"Joking," Zephyr said, though his expression didn't change. "Close your eyes. Focus on your breath. Feel the energy within you."
Kairo sighed but complied, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic outside.
"Do you feel it?" Zephyr asked after a few moments.
"Feel what?"
"The energy," Zephyr said. "It's there, just beneath the surface. Like a river waiting to be tapped."
Kairo furrowed his brow, concentrating. At first, he felt nothing but the ache in his legs from sitting cross-legged. But as he focused, a faint warmth began to stir in his chest, spreading outward like ripples in a pond.
"I think I feel it," he said cautiously.
"Good," Zephyr said. "Now imagine drawing it toward you, shaping it into something tangible."
Kairo tried, but the energy slipped through his grasp like water through cupped hands. He opened his eyes in frustration. "This is impossible."
"Nothing worth mastering comes easily," Zephyr said. "Try again."
Kairo groaned but closed his eyes once more. This time, he focused on the memory of the golden wave that had erupted from him the night before. He tried to recreate the sensation, to will the energy into existence.
The warmth in his chest flared, stronger now, and a faint glow began to emanate from his hands. Kairo's eyes snapped open, and he stared in awe as tendrils of golden light danced across his palms.
"I did it," he said, a grin spreading across his face.
Zephyr nodded, though his expression remained serious. "This is only the beginning, Kairo. The veil between light and shadow is thin, and the storm ahead will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine."
The glow in Kairo's hands flickered and died, but the warmth remained. For the first time in days, he felt a flicker of hope.
"Let the storm come," he said quietly. "I'll be ready."