Point of View: Hajime
In the silence of the reinforced basement, Hajime adjusted a few runes around the training circle. Lines glowed in shades of amber and crimson, resonating with an arcane melody few could comprehend. The space had been designed to endure destruction, spiritual pressure, and even minor dimensional collapses. He had built it himself, once he realized Issei's growing power was already threatening the structural integrity of the mansion.
Kuroka, her tail gently swaying, watched from atop a pillar. As usual, her presence was quiet yet constant — a protective shadow few would ever suspect. There was no smile on her lips today, only a sharp, calculating gaze.
"You're going to raise the level again, nya~?" she asked with a hint of teasing, though her voice was lower than usual.
"I need to force the bond between Issei and Ddraig. He still thinks like a human trying to wield a weapon. He needs to understand that he is the weapon."
Kuroka yawned.
"And if you break the toy?"
"Then he wasn't ready."
Point of View: Issei
His body ached. Every muscle, every tendon, even his bones protested everything he'd endured. But there he was again, standing in the center of the circle, breath heavy, sweat clinging to his brow. He'd barely slept, haunted by nightmares of battles he'd never fought and voices he didn't understand.
But above all, there was a presence.
"You're improving."
Ddraig.
The dragon rarely spoke, but when he did, every word felt like a distant thunderclap.
"But it's still not enough. You don't just want to survive. You want to protect. And that takes more than pain... it takes spirit."
Issei clenched his fists. The crimson gauntlet flared into existence with a soft roar, the ruby at its center pulsing like a living heart.
Hajime watched from afar, his red eyes assessing every movement.
"Focus. Stop hesitating. Feel the flow of energy—don't try to control it like a human using a tool. Feel it as part of yourself. Because it is."
Issei gritted his teeth and shouted:
"Boost!" — The aura exploded around him, fiercer and more alive than ever.
The basement walls trembled with the pressure.
Point of View: Rias
Meanwhile, in the Occult Research Club room, Rias sat before a table cluttered with documents, location seals, and ancient records. Since her conversation with Hajime, she couldn't shake the feeling he left behind — someone who had gone beyond the boundaries of humanity, yet was neither demon, angel, nor fallen.
He was something else.
"You're obsessed, Rias," said Akeno, sitting beside her with a tray of tea.
"I know. But it's not arrogance. It's instinct. There's something about him that doesn't fit into any known supernatural structure. And now, with Issei…"
Akeno set her cup down.
"There are records of humans with innate destructive potential who refused to join any faction. Some became threats. Others... became monsters."
"I don't want to believe he's a monster."
"What if he's creating one?"
Point of View: Hajime
The floor cracked in several directions as Issei stepped forward again. The boy was now cloaked in a rudimentary draconic aura. Still unstable, but visible. Hajime approached.
"That's a start."
Issei dropped to his knees, exhausted, the gauntlet dissipating into ethereal smoke.
"I... can't take anymore today…"
"Lie. Your body can handle two more sessions. Your mind is trying to convince you otherwise."
Issei looked up, panting.
"Why are you like this?"
"Because the world out there is worse."
Kuroka descended from the pillar and approached, placing a hand on Issei's shoulder.
"You were better today, kid. Don't listen to everything this idiot says. But pay attention to what he does. His methods are harsh, but he's the only one who'll get you through this alive."
Point of View: Issei
Amid pain, exhaustion, and desperation, something clicked. Kuroka, playful and seductive as she seemed, was speaking sincerely. And Hajime... he was cold, relentless — but not cruel. Not truly. He was like a blacksmith hammering steel until the metal became worthy of a blade.
"I... I'll keep going. Even if it hurts."
Kuroka smiled.
"That's the spirit, nya~."
Point of View: Hajime
That night, Hajime lay in bed with Kuroka curled up against his chest, as usual. Her low purring filled the dark room, the tranquility of that moment a sharp contrast to the chaos of their training. She lazily traced soft lines across his chest with her claws.
"He's growing."
"He is. Faster than I expected."
"You're getting more involved than you planned, nya."
"I know."
Kuroka lifted her face.
"And when she — Rias — finds out I live here? That I sleep with you?"
"She doesn't need to know. Not yet. One step at a time."
"I like that... our little secret."
He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling the gentle warmth of her feline body against his. For now, this was the only place he allowed himself to lower his guard.
To be continued…