Days 1–3: Scouting, Intel, and Strategy

  No Maho. No miracles.

  Just five kids preparing to steal survival. On Hellicks command, the guards approached the five with boxes. Weapons and scraps were dumped into the old shaft floor like trash.

  Rusty blades, tangled wires, strange green crystals, and pieces of armor too small or too large to fit a child. Most were junk. Dangerous junk.

  Kenny picked up a blade, tested the edge with his thumb, and flinched. "Shit—still sharp."

  But Roi's eyes lit up like she'd been given a puzzle box.

  “This isn’t garbage,” she muttered, dragging a coil of melted netting behind her. “This is potential.”

  She got to work fast, wires became trip-lines, broken gears became pressure plates, and scrap metal became armor spikes, noise triggers, hidden blades.

  “Good ol' Roi,” Kenny whispered to Nobu. “Y’know her parents use to be blacksmiths, right?”

  “Neat,” Nobu muttered, his jaw tightening. “Mine were assholes.”

  Kenny's smile faltered. He opened his mouth, closed it, then awkwardly shuffled away to help Roi.

  While Roi worked on tension traps and noise mines, Kenny gathered anything flashy or weird, testing what could blind or disorient.

  Dozai was constantly thinking of ways for all of them to succeed. He made sure to note one crucial thing.

  They didn’t need to fight like warriors. They needed to kill like ghosts. Saboteurs. Manipulators. Assassins.

  A guard strolled in, eating from a protein tube. He didn't look at them, just kept walking as he spoke.

  "Boss says I gotta tell you idiots where you'll be dying." He took another bite. "The Deep Pit—mining tunnels, claustrophobic as shit, echoes like hell. The Spine—collapsed rail line, metal everywhere, good luck not breaking your ankle. The Heatbox—" He grinned. "Still got fire vents working. Might cook you alive."

  He tossed the empty tube to the floor. "Have fun, rats."

  Dozai filed every word away.

  Tunnels, debris, fire.

  Rizaru had watched the whole thing from the shadows. Her lip was stitched, her wrist still bandaged, but her mind was sharper than ever.

  “I know some hunter’s Maho.” she said suddenly.

  Everyone turned.

  “When they dragged me away to examine my mana... they left the door open. There were boards everywhere. Names, rankings, Maho types. Some with colored marks. Others had keywords. ‘Unstable.’ ‘Loyal.’ ‘Explosive.’ I looked while they thought I was sleeping.”

  “You memorized all that?” Nobu asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “And some guards talked. They think I might get promoted even higher one day. So they answered me more willingly than I thought.”

  She dropped her voice. “One of the hunter kids, they think he’s a prodigy. But he’s got rage issues. Another? Chohara. Has to see blood before her Maho triggers and has to reactivate it after 60 seconds.”

  “Delnora probably runs the Hunters when Master Hellick is away,” Dozai repeated slowly. “I’d assume she has a lot of followers.”

  Rizaru nodded. “She watches everything as well.”

  Everyone made sure to take notes and listen carefully.

  After a whole day of planning, roles were starting to form.

  By the end of day 3, Callouses had formed. Fear hadn’t gone away, but it had become familiar.

  They didn’t feel stronger.

  But they were learning how to hold themselves together.

  Their movements tightened.

  Angles sharpened. Breaths synced.

  Almost.

  Rei was the one who kept breaking rhythm. Just enough to matter.

  The goal was simple: land a single clean hit on Rizaru. One attack each.

  Rei moved first every time—eyes sharp, intent clear—but the ground betrayed her. Loose gravel shifted, a half-slip that wrenched her stance wide, killing her commitment.

  “Again,” Dozai said.

  Nobu reacted, trying to cover. He slashed opposite of her hesitation, trying to turn her aborted strike into a feint.

  Rizaru didn’t bite. She sidestepped both attacks in one smooth motion, already pivoting, already creating space.

  “Too polite,” Rizaru said flatly. “You’re asking me to move. Not forcing.”

  He clicked his tongue, already resetting, jaw tight.

  Kenny saw Rei falter and surged without thinking.

  “I’ve got this!”

  He crashed in shoulder-first, brute force and momentum. It worked—barely—driving Rizaru back a step. But his guard flared wide in the process.

  Rizaru’s fist hovered inches from his ribs.

  “If I was trying,” she said, tapping his side with two knuckles, “you’d be coughing blood.”

  Roi snapped at Kenny, striking the same spot with the flat of her weapon. “You keep throwing yourself in like that, you won’t last a real fight.”

  Kenny grimaced, breath heavy. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Not enough,” Roi shot back. “You don’t trade your body for distance.”

  Roi reset. Her movements were always measured, economical, but she hesitated a beat too long before committing, recalculating when speed would’ve mattered more.

  “You felt the opening. Why didn’t you go?”

  Roi stiffened. “Because—”

  “Because you waited to be sure,” Rizaru cut in. “Sure gets you killed against someone stronger.”

  Rei had already stepped back into position. Her fingers trembled as she re-gripped her wooden weapon.

  Dozai was watching her feet now.

  “Your eyes are ahead of your body,” he said. “You see the opening, but you don’t trust the ground to hold you.”

  Rei swallowed. She nodded, but when they moved again, it happened again.

  A slip. A hitch. A breath caught halfway.

  Her muscles remembered the sequence.

  Her heart did not.

  Nobu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to sound like an asshole here, but… we can’t keep fighting around Rei like this.”

  Kenny frowned. “Isn’t that what a team’s supposed to do? Help each other?”

  “Not when it’s clearly not working,” Nobu snapped. “You abandon formation every time she stumbles.”

  “And you freeze every time you miss,” Kenny fired back.

  Nobu stiffened.

  Dozai stepped in before it could spiral.

  “You’re all compensating for fear in different ways,” he continued. “Kenny throws his body away to force openings. Nobu hits clean but won’t commit if he misreads once. Roi overthinks and loses the opening. Rei—” He paused, gentler now. “Rei reacts faster than all of you. But she’s bracing for failure before it happens.”

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  Rei’s shoulders tensed.

  “I’m trying,” she whispered.

  “I know,” Dozai said immediately. “That’s not the problem.”

  He crouched, scraping the gravel smooth with his hand. Flattening the ground beneath her feet.

  “Stop treating the misstep like a mistake,” he said. “It’s data. Adjust to it. Don’t apologize for it.”

  Rizaru nodded once. “Yeah,” she added. “Don’t fight the slip. Use it. If you’re going to fall—fall forward.”

  Silence.

  Then Nobu let out a slow breath. He stepped closer to Rei, adjusting his stance.

  Less perfect. More present.

  Roi watched, then gave a sharp nod and shifted her grip.

  Kenny rolled his shoulders, breathing slower, deeper.

  Rei hesitated… then stepped forward onto the smoothed ground.

  This time, when the gravel shifted, someone was already there.

  To move with her.

  Days 4–7: Fight Ugly, Think Beautiful

  By the fourth day, the scrap piles had grown, and so had their desperation.

  They were now dirty fighting.

  Dozai finally stepped forward. For days he’d stayed back—watching, correcting, breaking down everyone else’s flaws. He saw patterns faster than anyone. Usually, he trained alone, pushing his body until it failed. This time, he stepped into the circle with them.

  “Before we start,” he said, turning to Rizaru, “I want you to throw a punch at me. As fast and as hard as you can.”

  He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck, trying to look casual.

  Rizaru’s expression didn’t change. The others stared at him.

  “Finally joining us for real?” Kenny grinned.

  “D-Don’t hurt him too bad,” Rei pleaded, half-serious.

  Dozai stepped closer, standing directly in front of Rizaru.

  Close enough that he could feel the heat coming off her skin.

  “Ready,” he said, looking up at her. “I mean it. Everything you’ve got.”

  Rizaru clenched her fist, elbow drawing back.

  “Don’t worry,” she said calmly. “I trust you.”

  She threw the punch.

  And the world stretched.

  Rizaru’s fist lunged forward and time peeled open around it. The air thickened into syrup. Sound dulled to a distant hum. The motion slowed into a sequence of impossible detail.

  Dozai’s breath hitched.

  I see it.

  The torque of her waist. The grind of her heel into dirt. The wave of tension through her shoulder. The slight inward twist of her wrist—knuckles aligned to break bone.

  Perfect form.

  And underneath it—

  Danger.

  The fist advanced. Inch by dreadful inch.

  I see it. I see it!

  His mind raced, tearing through options faster than his body could follow.

  Step left—no, foot still settling.

  Duck—too slow.

  Block—arm not raised.

  I see it. I see it.

  I. SEE. IT.

  His heart slammed against his ribs. Panic surged, cold and sharp, a screaming, useless awareness. His body lagged behind the knowledge, heavy, trapped in honey while his mind burned through eternity.

  Move! Why won’t you MOVE?! What good is seeing everything if I can’t—

  IMPACT.

  Her fist crashed into his face. The pain didn’t come all at once.

  His Maho stretched it—pulled it thin and long like taffy in the cold. The cartilage in his nose crunched. He felt every micro-fracture. Felt the exact angle his head snapped back. Felt the milliseconds stretch between each drop of blood that hadn't yet fallen.

  Then time slammed into place.

  Dozai flew. Hit the ground hard. Skidded through dirt. Rocks bit into his shoulder. His back. His hip.

  Silence.

  The kind that sits on your chest and won't move.

  Rizaru's eyes widened slow, like she was watching something break that couldn't be fixed.

  Kenny's grin vanished.

  Roi took a step forward. Her foot moved before her brain caught up.

  Nobu's jaw tightened so hard the muscle jumped beneath his skin.

  Rei gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth.

  Dozai rolled once. Twice.

  Finally stopped.

  His vision swam. The world tilted, righted itself, tilted again. And even through the pain, his cold calculated mind worked.

  Conclusion one: My Maho is reactive. It triggers only under threat. It buys time—not outcomes.

  He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath.

  Conclusion two: It enhances perception. Not my body. Pain stretches until my Maho collapses.

  “Dozai!” Rei rushed to his side. “Are you okay?!” She shot a fierce glare at Rizaru. “I told you to hold back!”

  Rizaru ignored her, crouching slightly, her gaze locked on him.

  Dozai laughed. "Fuck that hurt."

  It was sharp, breathless, almost unhinged. His pupils were still blown wide, his vision lagging a half-second behind reality.

  “You saw it,” Rizaru said slowly. “Didn’t you?”

  Dozai wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, smearing a red streak across his cheek.

  He forced his breath to even.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice steady again. “I saw all of it.”

  He pushed himself up, wobbling only slightly.

  “Still missing the important part,” he added, tasting copper. "But I understand the basics at least."

  Rizaru offered her hand. A faint, real smile touched her lips. “Didn’t think you’d take my fist straight to the face just to figure that out.”

  He took it, pulling himself up fully, turning his head away in a flash of pure embarrassment.

  “Shut up,” he muttered. “I said I’m working on it.”

  Behind them, Kenny whistled low.

  Nobu gave a slow, conceding nod.

  Roi’s assessing look held a new flicker of respect.

  After that, the team practiced fighting ugly. Honor was a luxury for those who could afford to lose.

  On Day 6, they continued with the normal training regiment. Their roles were evolving.

  Dozai jotted them down on a scrap of paper a guard threw away days ago:

  Me, Age 9 – Predictive warfare.

  I'm the strategist. Maho is annoying… Need stronger body.

  Hunter Age Data (Source: Rizaru, Verified):

  Top Tier: Lucius (11), Delnora (11), Kota (9).

  General Hunter Population: 9–13 years.

  Analysis: Children. Our age. Margin for error is smaller. Psychological warfare may be more effective.

  Kenny, Age 10 – Best at baiting.

  He made the arena his stage. Great at holding grapples and forcing attention.

  Ideal for initiating engagement, creating openings via sheer pressure. With refined instinct, could match Rizaru's disruptive potential.

  Morale catalyst. Unifies through action, not words. His confidence is contagious.

  Future Objective: Have a workout sessions with him. Bond and grow stronger.

  Nobu, Age 8 – Stealth killer.

  Trained to look vulnerable—slouched shoulders, slow movements—then strike with brutal precision.

  He knows a variety of pressure points and joints location. Always aiming to disrupt opponents movement or go for the finishing blow.

  Nobu knows a lot more about fighting and killing than I thought...

  Future Objective: Open up with Nobu more so he feels safer to open up with me... He seems to hover to Rei more.

  Roi, Age 11 – Quiet craftsmith.

  Adaptive tactician & trap specialist.

  She adjusts her traps based on how her team moves. Is the reason our formations have structural integrity.

  Sometimes she even adapts traps mid-fight. Without her, we’d be at a massive disadvantage.

  My strategic oversight is broad; her tactical adjustments are immediate.

  Future Objective: Get to know her more, not just to strategize, but wanting hear her story.

  Rei, Age 8 – Still smiling… but slower.

  Technical gap persists. However, her positioning is improving. She is learning to fail forward.

  Her jokes got quieter. She is trying. But the gap was real.

  Still… without Rei, our mentality would've broken a long time ago.

  She makes us remember we are people, not just weapons.

  Future Objective: Protect. Whole group falters without her.

  Dozai paused. He looked from his notes to the blood smeared on the training wall, then to his team, breathing hard, covered in dirt and resolve.

  He wiped sweat from his chin, leaving a grey streak.

  "Make her want you," he said, his voice low and analytical. "Make her bet on you. Make her scared of wasting you."

  Nobu, catching his breath nearby, frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "Hellick." Dozai's gaze was distant, calculating odds. "We can’t just win. We have to win in a way that makes her curious what we’ll do next."

  The words settled over them, cold and clear.

  End of Day 7 into Day 8:

  By now, pain wasn’t punishment, it was just another teacher.

  With Rizaru better recovered, she would start going on the offensive. They'd have to put everything they learned so far against her.

  But to do that they wanted a bigger space.

  In order to step outside, a guard had to be present. But with Master Hellick’s command to “support the rats with whatever they needed,” the impossible had cracked open. For the first time in forever, they were allowed through the iron gate.

  The world hit Dozai all at once.

  Air that wasn’t thick with sweat and dust, but sharp and cool, stinging the inside of his nose. It tasted bitter at first, smoke, rust, the sour tang of unwashed stone, but beneath it was something else. Space. A kind of freedom you could breathe in, raw and staggering.

  He froze just past the threshold. The ground wasn’t smooth-packed dirt like the tunnels but uneven, alive, grit, gravel, scattered weeds forcing through cracks. His bare soles prickled. His chest swelled, and for a second he thought he might choke on the sheer size of it all.

  “Whoa…” Kenny whispered, his grin caught between mockery and awe. He tilted his head back, mouth open like he was trying to drink the sky. “Haven’t been outside in so long.”

  The sky wasn’t the endless blue the stories promised. It was gray, smoke-streaked, dulled by distance. But it moved. Clouds shifted, light wavered, and it felt more alive than anything inside the walls ever had.

  Nobu crouched low, running his fingers across the weeds jutting up through the gravel. He rubbed the green against his nose and blinked fast, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

  Rei twirled, arms out, face tipped upward. For a moment, she looked like she’d forgotten how thin she’d become, how heavy her steps had been lately. “It’s huge!” she shouted, and her voice didn’t echo off close stone, it vanished into open air.

  Rizaru just stood there. Red eyes scanning, jaw tight, shoulders set. But her hand flexed once, curling and uncurling like she was testing whether the world outside was real enough to grab.

  Roi instantly went straight to collecting whatever she could get her hands on. Tucking them into her pockets. Shifting her eyes by things she just thought was pretty.

  Dozai flexed his hands, wondering if he was dreaming. It wasn’t beautiful or clean. But endless. And for once, he didn’t feel like he was already accounted for, measured, and marked.

  Then a harsh voice broke it.

  “Don’t just stand there like idiots. Get moving, rats. You’re not tourists.”

  The guard spat to the side and jerked his chin toward the junk pile waiting for them. The spell snapped.

  But Dozai had already memorized it, the taste of the air, the ache in his soles, the immensity above. He knew he’d carry it back inside.

  Because for the first time, he understood what “outside” meant. Dozai had already stored the memory, he taste, the space, the sky.

  He'd bring them back here.

  No matter what it cost.