Energy manipulation

Toshi's eyes narrowed as they locked onto the man before him, the firelight dancing over hardened features. "So, you're Ikaris?" he stated flatly, his voice void of wonder or curiosity—just an unadorned assertion of fact against the rhythmic echo of the cavern.

Ikaris answered only with a slight, enigmatic smile, one that revealed neither confirmation nor denial. His calm amusement played out in his eyes, as though he were witnessing a familiar narrative unfold—a story he had seen countless times before.

Every deliberate step Toshi took was laden with the haunting memory of his missing arm, a constant reminder of both his loss and what stubbornly endured. "I don't care who or what you are," he said steadily, the undercurrent of pain mixed with determination. "There's only one thing I need to know."

His left fist clenched with quiet intensity, and his right, or what remained of it, pulsated with a dull, relentless ache. Toshi's body was accustomed to rapid healing, mending wounds faster than any force he had ever braved in combat, yet this injury clung to him like a lingering shadow.

"Why isn't my arm healing?" he demanded, his voice mingling frustration with desperation.

A soft exhalation escaped Ikaris' nostrils, a hint of amusement riding on the sound. "Ah. So you finally noticed."

Toshi's jaw set into a hardened line. "Answer me."

Tilting his head slightly, Ikaris replied in a measured tone, "Because it can't."

The word fell between them like an unyielding decree, utterly devoid of malice or derision—as if it were a simple, inevitable fact of nature.

Toshi's frown deepened. "What do you mean, it can't?"

Stepping closer into the flickering pool of light, Ikaris's gaze softened ever so slightly. "Because it wasn't severed by ordinary means. That wound was inflicted with Energy."

At the mere utterance of the word Energy, Toshi's muscles tensed, as if bracing against an unseen force. Energy—the term was as alien to the fundamental laws of his world as a whisper from an ancient, mysterious realm. Tales of magic, unyielding brute strength, and raw, unbridled power were well known to him, but Energy? That was an enigma.

A sneer curled at the corner of his lips. "You're lying."

Ikaris chuckled, a sound that mingled amusement with a quiet sorrow. "Am I?"

Toshi shook his head in disbelief. "Zokaris didn't use Energy. He tore my arm off with sheer brute force—nothing more."

A playful smirk broadened on Ikaris' face as he mused, "And you believed that? Tell me something, Toshi—" His eyes gleamed in the dim, wavering light as he continued with a quiet intensity, "The very man who reduced devils to dust without a second thought, obliterating their sanctuaries with ease… do you truly think he could be so easily overpowered?"

Toshi's breath caught, a shiver of dread mingling with reluctant realization. A dark, nagging thought threatened to break free from the recesses of his mind, one he was not yet ready to confront. Yet, he pressed on, voice dropping to an almost inaudible whisper, "What are you trying to say?"

Ikaris exhaled slowly, his smirk undiminished. "Zokaris didn't merely tear your arm off, Toshi. He used Energy to do it. If he hadn't, you'd still have your arm."

In that moment, the space around Toshi seemed to constrict, the cavern's atmosphere growing ever denser with the gravity of their exchange. "Then tell me how to fix it," he growled, his tone mixing anger and a glimmer of hope.

Ikaris's smile widened gently, his voice laced with ancient knowledge. "That which is taken by Energy…" He paused deliberately, allowing the weight of his words to settle between them, "…can only be restored by Energy."

Baffled, Toshi's brows knit together. "What does that mean?"

For a long, silent moment, Ikaris offered no explanation. His smile deepened, rich with meaning—and then, as if on cue, an astonishing sight unfolded.

From behind Ikaris, nine, perhaps even ten spectral hands began to materialize. They did not sprout naturally from his body; they emerged mysteriously from the void, as if summoned by an unseen command. Each hand moved with an otherworldly fluidity, twisting and curling in ways that belied the form of any ordinary limb. The very air around them seemed to warp, a subtle shimmer bending the light and distorting the space they occupied.

The cavern itself responded—a deep, resonant rumble of stone rolling like an ancient protest against the defiant display. Torches fixed to the walls flickered wildly, their flames contorting as if drawn magnetically towards Ikaris' uncanny presence rather than rising in their usual upward dance.

The atmosphere thickened imperceptibly, pulsing with a power that defied simple explanation. Toshi felt as though invisible fingers brushed against his skin, probing him, testing his very essence—a sensation both invasive and profound. An alien vibration spread through the cavern, an undulation felt not by the ears but by the core of one's being, stirring instincts long buried.

His breathing deepened, and his heart pounded furiously—not from fear, but from the raw, unmediated encounter with a force beyond his understanding. The oppressive weight of the room grew, seeming almost alive, its pressure as palpable as though it were a living being, shifting and weighing on him with relentless judgment.

Ikaris' summoned hands floated in midair, elongating and contorting with such unnatural grace that it was impossible to believe they were of the same plane as the rest of him. Their movements spoke of power and mystery, echoing truths that the physical world could scarcely contain.

On instinct, Toshi took a cautious step back. His wide eyes mirrored the storm of sensations—a warning sign that this force was unlike the known realms of magic, something altogether profound and mysterious.

Then, as swiftly as they had appeared, the extra hands dissolved into nothingness, vanishing completely as if they had been mere phantasms. In their wake, the cavern seemed to let out a long-held exhalation; the stifling pressure lifted as though a spell had been broken, leaving behind a fragile calm.

Steadying his breath, Toshi's mind raced to process what he had just witnessed. In his world, where physical strength and raw power ruled, what he had observed transcended ordinary force. It was not the brutality of mere muscle and bone but something deeply transformative—energy itself manifesting as a willful, creative power.

Finally, Ikaris broke the pregnant silence, his calm voice cutting through the charged air. "That… was what I meant."

Toshi's measured breathing belied the tension coiled within him, yet his fists tightened with unspoken determination. "What… was that?"

With each deliberate step he took forward, Ikaris' presence grew almost overwhelming, enveloping the space with a magnetic authority. "Your arm isn't coming back, Toshi. You need to forge yourself a new one."

With a sharp, resigned exhalation, Toshi asked, "And how do I do that?"

After a stretched pause heavy with portent, Ikaris answered in a voice as smooth and chilling as carved ice, "This is what we call… Energy Manipulation."

A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. "And soon, Toshi, you will learn exactly what that means."

The words hung in the charged air like an incantation, laden with possibility and threat. Toshi stood utterly still, his eyes unblinking—not out of anger or confusion, but because, for the first time since he had awoken in this forsaken place, he felt the stirrings of something entirely new.

Anticipation.

The revelation settled over him like a mantle, and all his resistance began to dissolve. Energy—a force far greater than any he had ever known, a power that had taken from him and yet promised restoration—was now his undeniable reality.

His remaining fist curled tighter, a silent vow made in the midst of pain and wonder. If this was the next step on the arduous path laid before him, then he would embrace it with all the fervor he possessed.

Ikaris looked on quietly, as though witnessing the culmination of a destiny long awaited. "Good," he murmured, almost imperceptibly. "Then let's begin."

At that moment, the torches, which had dimmed under the weight of the surreal demonstration, suddenly flared back to life, their light piercing the gloom. The entire cavern seemed to shift its ancient stance in a silent, solemn acknowledgment of the journey that lay ahead.

Toshi drew in a deep, resolute breath. Uncertain of what mysteries awaited him along this new and perilous path, one thing was undeniable—he was ready.

Chapter End.