The Golden Guardian stood alone in a dimly lit training chamber, the only illumination coming from softly glowing blue orbs suspended in the air. She wore simple white training trousers and nothing on her feet. Her sword rested lightly in her hand, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady.
The room was dead silent, yet inside her chest she heard the thunder of war drums.
She swung the blade in a clean arc — once, twice — then moved faster. In her mind the empty chamber transformed into a blood-soaked battlefield. Ghostly enemy soldiers charged from every direction. She dodged a spear thrust, spun low, and countered with a precise slash that would have severed a neck. Another foe lunged from the left; she stepped inside his guard, drove her elbow into his throat, and finished him with a thrust through the heart. Sweat already beaded on her skin as she visualized the chaos — the metallic tang of blood, the screams, the churned mud beneath her bare feet. Every movement was fluid, passionate, raw. She was no longer the masked ruler of the Golden Globe. She was a warrior fighting for her life.
She paused mid-strike, chest heaving, opened her eyes. The battlefield dissolved back into the quiet chamber.
She straightened, breathing calmly, sweat dripping down her neck and back.
"Busy as always, Ms. Guardian," a familiar voice drawled from behind her.
She turned.
Ethan walked toward her — tall, broad-shouldered, with a wild, roguish grin. He wore a black sleeveless top and matching shorts, his carefree energy filling the room.
The Golden Guardian smiled calmly "Ethan. The only person who refuses to show the Golden Guardian proper respect. How dare you." She said with a playful tone.
Ethan laughed easily. "So you still remember me? Crazy, how busy you are these days."
"Of course I remember my biggest rival," she replied, the smile reaching her eyes.
"Question," Ethan said, tilting his head. "What exactly are you so busy with? The Golden Globe is a place of absolute peace." He smirked. "Well… you must be busy training and all that. Care to show me how much you've improved?"
He raised his right hand. It transformed into gleaming steel with a metallic shimmer.
The Golden Guardian's smirk mirrored his own. She raised her sword and charged.
Steel met steel in a burst of sparks. Ethan's left hand turned to metal as well. He blocked her next strike, then countered with a heavy punch. She slipped aside, blade flashing in a precise arc that tore through the air. They traded blows at blinding speed — her movements almost predictive, dodging every heavy swing by fractions of an inch. Ethan lunged with a wide haymaker; she ducked under it and drove her blade forward, slicing cleanly through his shirt without touching skin.
Ethan staggered back, glanced down at the torn fabric, and raised both hands in surrender.
"I surrender," he said, metal melting back into flesh.
The Golden Guardian's blade stopped a hair's breadth from his face. She lowered it slowly, breathing steady.
"Seriously, Ethan? Giving up that easily?"
He looked at the rip in his favorite shirt and shrugged. "I couldn't land a single hit and you destroyed my favorite shirt. That's enough for today."
She turned away, walked to a side table, and took a long drink from a water bottle.
"Glad to see you weren't lacking after becoming Golden Guardian," Ethan said, voice softer. "And happily in more ways than one."
She paused mid-sip. "What do you mean by 'more ways than one'?"
"You know…" He grinned. "You still have that cute face of yours."
She gave him a stern look. "Ethan. Stop."
"Come on, Debra…"
"Wow. Can't believe I haven't heard my own name in ages," she cut in, taking another sip.
Ethan's expression turned calm and gentle. "You can't run from it forever, Debra."
"I can," she said quietly, "and I will."
...
The Flow Academy buzzed with raw energy. Every class — one through five — crackled with Flow. Students pushed harder than they ever had, the air thick with determination. Koya's outburst and the Council's revelation had lit a fire in them all. If a flowless girl could wield something that powerful, then they refused to be left behind.
In Class 5, Melly and Ra'an faced each other in the center of the training floor.
Ra'an teleported in a dozen places at once, afterimages blurring together. A huge grin split Melly's face. The real Ra'an appeared behind him and threw a devastating right fist.
Melly vanished and reappeared directly behind Ra'an.
"Pretty impressive… but…"
He grabbed Ra'an's face and slammed him into the ground with terrifying force.
The entire class gasped. Jaws dropped.
"Winner… Melly," the teacher announced.
Melly strolled back to the wall, still smiling that same calm, unsettling smile.
Ra'an lay on the floor, conscious but stunned. The only thought in his head was How?
Anna stared at Melly the entire way, eyes narrowed.
Melly… what are you? She thought.
At the Flow Star, Koya sat beside her mother's bed, gently holding her hand. She stared at the peaceful face in silence, then exhaled softly.
Later, she walked into her own room and pulled back a curtain. Hanging on a simple hook was Ikua's arm.
She stood there, breathing calmly, eyes locked on the artifact.
To be continued…