Chapter 6 : The Meet
Three days had passed since the Chimera Ant Colony incident.
Itekan had told his father everything — about the Queen, about her request.
Carpathia hadn't spoken a word after hearing it. His face darkened, brooding. And then, just like that, he vanished.
Two days ago, Carpathia returned. Without fanfare, he told Itekan he'd been enrolled into Four Stars Academy.
He would be leaving in a week.
Itekan blinked in shock. The timing was too strange — was this because of what he had told his father?
He couldn't say for sure.
But still… Four Stars Academy. The same school Flocker had said he would attend. His heart raced with excitement.
Before Carpathia left again, he entrusted something to Itekan — the egg.
A smooth, obsidian-colored egg that pulsed faintly with life.
> "This is the egg of a Twelve-Horned Beak," Carpathia explained, setting it carefully in Itekan's hands. "A rare creature. Complicated to raise — because once it hatches, its spiritual attributes will mirror whatever energy nurtured it."
> He glanced at Itekan, his gaze serious.
"Had it remained with the Chimera Ant Queen, it would've inherited abilities like hers. But since she died before hatching it, we have a problem. You'll need either another Chimera Queen to nurture it… or you'll have to infuse it with an entirely different energy. That's risky. Do it wrong and you'll cause a mutation. But if done right…" His lips quirked in a rare smile. "It might emerge even stronger."
Itekan stared at the egg, heart pounding.
"What if I used my own spiritual energy?"
Carpathia gave a short, sharp laugh.
"Ha! Now that would be something. You see, the spirit is tied directly to the soul. Sharing your energy would mean forging a link between its soul and yours. That carries enormous opportunity — for both of you."
Itekan's decision was instant. His grin split wide.
"Great. I'll start now."
He stretched his hand toward the egg. Spiritual energy sparked at his fingertips — and before he could react, the egg drank it in, violently.
The glow exploded outward.
Itekan gasped. His body locked up. He felt his entire spiritual sea — everything — drain away in a heartbeat.
Gone. Empty.
He stumbled back, yanking his hand free. His father only chuckled darkly.
A bead of blood slid from Itekan's wrist and dripped onto the egg's surface. It hissed — evaporating instantly.
"Aargh!"
He gritted his teeth.
> "I thought about warning you," Carpathia said, arms folded. "But experience is the better teacher."
> "What… what happened?" Itekan rasped.
> His father's smirk faded, voice cooling.
"Your spiritual sea is shallow. That egg has been drinking from the core of a Grade C spiritual beast. In human terms… it's been absorbing energy from the equivalent of a Henkei form Hero."
The words hit Itekan like a stone.
He should have realized. He was leagues beneath what that egg was accustomed to.
I'm nothing right now, he thought bitterly. Not even a Stage 1 Trainee Hero.
The ranks were clear in his mind.
Trainee Heroes were the bottom — Stage 1. Nobodies, still grasping at the edges of power.
Above them were Stage 2 Heroes. And beyond that, Stage 3.
The gaps between those three alone were enormous — ten Stage 2s couldn't hope to bring down a single Stage 3.
And yet… those were still ants.
The true monsters stood higher.
The Blue Eyes — beings who could raze cities alone. Their spiritual energy surged like tidal waves.
Beyond them were the Denkei — warriors who could shatter mountains, calm raging seas, and summon lightning storms capable of erasing nations. Entire kingdoms waged wars to claim even one Denkei as their champion.
And above them all… stood the Henkei.
They were one step from godhood.
Their slightest whim crushed planets. Their battles tore worlds apart.
But even the Henkei bowed, in history, to a rarer breed.
The Legends.
Only five were known to still exist.
Millennia old, their names shaped entire eras. They had halted apocalypses, sculpted the fate of continents, and, as myth whispered, were the very ones who brought spiritual energy to Earth itself.
Compared to them—
Itekan swallowed hard, staring at his trembling hands.
I'm not even dust on their boots.
---
Meanwhile — Rosa Town
Kutote's eyes cracked open.
White. Bright. Bandages wrapped him from throat to toe. One leg hung suspended in a sling.
He felt like a mummy — his privacy stripped away. He groaned softly.
A man seated beside the bed snapped his head up at the sound.
"You're awake!"
Kutote's throat was dry. "Where… am I? Who are you?"
The man smiled, rising from his chair.
"I'm Dr. VonShmit. You're safe now — in Rosa Town."
Kutote tried to sit up — pain exploded through his ribs. He gasped.
"Don't move," VonShmit said firmly, stepping closer. "You're badly injured. Your femur's broken. Cracks in your ribs punctured your liver. Your left arm — shattered. I doubt you'll be able to use that hand for some time."
Kutote's jaw clenched.
"No. I need to leave. I need to get to Four Stars Academy. I must. It's the only place I'll be safe."
VonShmit's smile faltered. His face twitched with unspoken thoughts — then he nodded slowly.
"You're safe here, kid. I'll write to the Academy, explain your delay. For now… just rest."
He turned and left the room, soft footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Kutote sank back into the pillows, muscles trembling.
Could he really rest? His body screamed for it — two months on the run had worn him raw.
His eyes drifted shut, the darkness claiming him.
And with it, came the nightmares.
---
The Dead Men Laboratory — The Past
He floated in liquid.
Cool, thick, suffocating.
An oxygen mask clamped over his mouth. His eyelids drooped — but he forced them open.
To his left — another tank, another child inside.
To his right — the same.
Across from him — rows of compartments, children like him suspended in the murky depths.
This was the Dead Men Laboratory.
He wasn't supposed to be awake.
But his oxygen mask had slipped slightly — the sleeping gas mixed into it had leaked out.
Kutote fought to remember.
Who was he?
What was he?
Nothing surfaced. Just an endless, hollow void.
The door hissed open.
A scientist strode inside. Kutote instinctively shut his eyes.
He couldn't hear her words… but something strange stirred within him.
He could feel her spiritual energy. Flowing. Twisting.
Even with eyes closed, he saw it.
She moved to a panel a few feet away, pressed buttons.
She opened one of the pods, extracted fluid samples from the child inside.
She repeated it at another tank — closer to Kutote. Then she left.
Kutote's breath shuddered.
He didn't understand it, not yet — but somehow, with eyes shut, he had sensed her energy. The motions of her body, her actions, all reflected through the currents of spiritual energy she disturbed.
He could do the same.
He would do the same.
His compartment door hissed open.
Slowly, heavily, Kutote rose from the liquid, bare feet slapping onto the cold floor. His muscles trembled under his own weight.
He stood naked, water dripping from his skin.
Turning, he squinted at the label on his pod:
> Kutote Tuo
XY from Uzami Tuo
Test Subject A107P
Kutote didn't know it then — but that was his name.
And Uzami Tuo… was his father.