The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dormitory courtyard as Mashù led their small group toward the residential building. Anjero walked slightly behind, still processing everything that had happened in the past few days. His leg, fully healed thanks to Aalto's intervention, felt strange—not painful, but different, as if the water spirit's energy had left permanent traces in his cellular structure.
"Yeah, it's so we can be on time for missions and the school and faculty can keep an eye on us to keep us safe and stay out of trouble," Mashù was explaining, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with the casual confidence of someone who owned the place.
Anjero nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. "I guess that makes sense."
Mashù's chest puffed out slightly, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Not that I need it though. I can probably take out at least fifty enemies by myself with my revenge spirit, Retaliare."
The casual boast snapped Anjero back to the present. Something about Mashù's statement nagged at him—a detail that didn't quite fit with what he'd observed during their earlier mission.
"Speaking of," Anjero said, quickening his pace to walk alongside the taller boy, "how do you have two spirits? And isn't revenge already in use?"
Mashù's step faltered almost imperceptibly, his confident mask slipping for just a moment before sliding back into place. His jaw tightened, and he glanced around at their companions before responding.
"It's a long story," Mashu said, his voice losing some of its usual bravado. "I'll tell you once we get you to your room. Come on."
As they continued walking, Anjero became aware of the other two boys in their group—classmates he'd barely noticed during the chaos of recent events. Yokudan kept shooting furtive glances at his companion.
"Damn, Roma, what happened to your face?" Yoku asked, his voice carrying genuine concern beneath the casual tone.
The taller boy—Romaji, apparently—touched his bandaged nose self-consciously, his face flushing slightly. "Errrr... Nothing happened. It was normal practice!"
"Oh, did you have to fight Kamira again, or did Anro do that to you?" Yoku's laughter was infectious, despite Romaji's obvious discomfort. "Hahahahaha!"
"Anro?" Anjero echoed, confused.
Romaji's flush deepened to a proper red. "Stop laughing! I told you it was regular practice..."
"OK, OK, I give up... sheesh!" The boy raised his hands in surrender, though his grin remained. "Call me Yoku by the way," he said to Anjero. "And this walking bruise is Romaji."
Romaji managed a weak smile and a small wave, still looking embarrassed.
They reached the entrance to a modern dormitory building, Mashù stopped at the elevator, pressing the button with more force than necessary.
"Here's your room, rookie," he said as they reached the third floor. He handed Anjero a keycard, "Come down to the cafe to eat once you're settled in." Mashu said.
"Alright," Anjero replied, accepting the card. The numbers 317 was embossed in silver against the dark blue plastic.
The others continued down the hall, their voices fading as Anjero stood before his door. He slid the keycard through the reader, and the lock clicked open with a soft beep.
The room beyond exceeded his expectations. Royal blue walls created a calming atmosphere, complemented by modern furniture that managed to feel both expensive and comfortable. A queen-sized bed dominated one corner, its navy comforter perfectly arranged. A sleek desk sat beneath the window, complete with a high-end computer and adjustable lamp. But what caught his attention immediately was a wrapped package sitting on the nightstand, its silver ribbon catching the light from the overhead fixture.
"This is kinda nice," he murmured, dropping his backpack by the door. "What's in this package?"
The wrapping paper tore easily under his fingers, revealing a sleek black case about the size of a laptop. The moment his fingertips made contact with its surface, the case hummed to life, a white light pulsing gently along its edges.
"Hello, Mr. Sutanrì. How are you today?" The familiar mechanical voice of S.E.I.D. emerged from hidden speakers in the case.
Anjero winced at the formal address. "It's just Anjero, OK? I don't need the 'Mr.'"
"OK... I'll lock that in my system. Anjero, please place your seal on the case now."
A small panel on the case's surface glowed, displaying an outline of a handprint. Anjero hesitated for a moment, then pressed his palm against it. The surface was warm, almost alive, and he felt a slight tingly sensation as it scanned his biometrics.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Certification verified. You are now officially a member of the Seishin South Spirit Organization. You will protect the people and the spirits in this prefecture." S.E.I.D.'s voice carried a weight of ceremony that made Anjero's stomach flutter with nervous anticipation. "You have a message from Principal Sutanrì."
The world seemed to stop. Anjero's breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Mom?"
A holographic projection flickered to life above the case—a three-dimensional image of a woman with Anjero's dark hair and determined jawline. She wore professional attire, but her eyes held a warmth that Anjero remembered from childhood, along with a weariness that was new.
"Hello, Anjero," Principal Sharin Sutanrì began, her voice exactly as he remembered yet somehow different—more formal, laden with responsibility. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner about all this, but I didn't want my family getting mixed up in this."
Anjero sank onto the edge of the bed, his legs suddenly unsteady. "What is this?"
The holographic image of his mother continued, seemingly looking directly at him despite being a recording. "We've been having outbreaks of theft and kidnappings in the last thirty years, and it's gotten worse over time, and we need all the help we can get. I can't tell you all the details of what's going on, but one thing I can tell you is: become strong, become invincible. We'll need your help to stop all of this turmoil and bring peace back to this world."
Her expression softened slightly.
"I know it's a lot to take in, but I expect you to understand—you're a smart kid. That is all."
The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving Anjero staring at empty air. His mind reeled with questions, emotions churning like a storm-tossed sea. His mother—who he'd thought was just an real estate agent—was apparently the head of a secret organization dedicated to fighting supernatural threats. The casual way she'd spoken about "theft and kidnappings" made his blood run cold.
"Message has been deleted," S.E.I.D. announced with clinical efficiency. "Please grab your new gauntlets and your new droid and pour your energy into it."
With shaking hands, Anjero opened the case fully. Inside, nestled in custom-fitted foam, were a pair of sleek black gauntlets and a smaller device that looked like a more advanced version of the S.E.I.D. units he'd seen the others use. The gauntlets seemed to shimmer with their own internal light, and he could feel Aalto stirring with interest in the back of his mind.
"OK, I'll try to focus," he said, though his voice sounded distant to his own ears.
He picked up the gauntlets first, surprised by their weight—or rather, the lack of it. They felt substantial without being heavy, and the material seemed to adapt to his hands as he slipped them on. The moment they were secure, he felt Aalto's presence strengthen, as if the gauntlets were amplifying their connection.
Closing his eyes, Anjero reached for that place within himself where Aalto resided. The water spirit responded immediately, and blue energy began to flow through the gauntlets' intricate channels. The smaller device—his personal S.E.I.D. unit—lit up in response, its screen displaying various readouts and connection confirmations.
"Link successful. Thank you and have a good night, Mr. Anjero," the original S.E.I.D. said before the case went silent.
Anjero sat in the growing darkness of his room, the only light coming from the soft glow of his new equipment. The weight of his mother's message pressed down on him like a physical thing. Thirty years of violence. People getting kidnapped. And somehow, he was expected to help stop it all.
*Become strong, become invincible.*
The words echoed in his mind as he struggled to process everything. His mother had sent him here not just for education, but for war. The realization left him feeling hollow and overwhelmed.
After several minutes of sitting in stunned silence, his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. With mechanical movements, he changed out of his school uniform into casual clothes—track pants and a simple blue hoodie that seemed to complement his new gauntlets.
*I better get to the cafeteria,* he thought, though the idea of food held little appeal. What he really needed was answers, and maybe his new teammates could provide some.
The dormitory's common areas were more luxurious than any school facility Anjero had ever seen. Soft lighting, comfortable seating areas, and the distant sound of conversation created an atmosphere more reminiscent of an upscale hotel than student housing. He followed the signs and the smell of food to the cafeteria, a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city below.
"Hey, Anjero, over here!" Kamira's voice cut through the ambient chatter.
He spotted her at a table near the windows, waving him over with enthusiasm that seemed at odds with her earlier battle-ready demeanor. She'd changed out of her combat gear into a casual red hoodie and black jeans, her crimson-highlighted hair pulled back in a ponytail. The transformation made her look younger, more approachable—though her eyes still held that fierce intensity that marked her as someone not to be underestimated.
As Anjero made his way through the cafeteria, weaving between tables of chattering students, he couldn't help but notice the way conversations quieted as he passed. Word of the new student who'd awakened his spirit during combat had apparently spread quickly. Some looks were curious, others appraising, and a few seemed almost hostile—though he couldn't fathom why.
"Rough first day?" Kamira asked as he approached, her tone gentle despite her usual bluntness.
Anjero slumped into the chair across from her, suddenly feeling the full weight of exhaustion—physical, emotional, and spiritual. "You could say that," he replied, then looked directly into her
"Great," Anjero muttered, running a hand through his hair. "So I'm the principal's son, the late bloomer with the mysterious powerful spirit, and apparently the key to saving the world from thirty years of supernatural violence. Anything else I should know about my life that I don't actually know?"
Despite the bitterness in his voice, Kamira smiled—not mockingly, but with genuine warmth. "Hey, at least you're not the girl whose spirit is literally pure rage and who nearly killed her own sister."
The casual way she mentioned what must have been a traumatic experience made Anjero look at her with new respect. "You don't have to—"
"Talk about it? Yeah, I do." She leaned back in her chair, her expression growing more serious. "We're teammates now, Anjero. That means we trust each other with the stuff that matters. And if we're going to fight together, survive together, you need to know what you're working with."
Before Anjero could respond, Yuko dropped into the seat beside Kamira with his usual boundless energy, a tray loaded with enough food for three people balanced in his hands.
"Hey guys! Anjero, you look like someone just told you Santa Claus was actually a serial killer. What's wrong?"
Despite everything, Anjero found himself almost smiling at Yoku's relentless optimism. "Just learning that my entire life has been a lie, apparently."
"Oh, that," Yoku said with a shrug, as if devastating personal revelations were completely normal. "Yeah, that happens to everyone here eventually. We all got secrets, man. The trick is deciding which ones are worth keeping and which ones are just holding you back."
Mashù arrived at their table just as Yoku finished speaking, carrying a tray of various red meat products and a single bottle of water and looking more subdued than Anjero had seen him.
"What were you all talking about?" Mashù asked, settling into the remaining chair.
"His mother left him a message," Kamira explained. "Principal Sutanrì."
Mashù's eyebrows shot up. "Shit. That explains a lot." He looked at Anjero with something that might have been sympathy. "So, how much of the truth did she give you?"
"Apparently just enough to terrify me and nowhere near enough to actually understand what's happening," Anjero replied. "Something about thirty years of violence getting worse, needing to become 'invincible,' and helping to save the world."
"Sounds about right for adult communication," Yuko said through a mouthful of noodles. "They never just say 'Hey, there are bad guys trying to end the world and we need you to help stop them.' It's always cryptic messages and half-truths and 'you'll understand when you're older.'"
Mashù took a long drink from his water bottle before speaking. "She's not wrong about the timeline, though. My family's been keeping records for generations. Thirty years ago, something changed. Spirit manifestations increased dramatically, but so did corruption cases. People who should have been guardians became something else instead."
"Corruption?" Anjero asked, though part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"When a spirit and human consciousness merge incorrectly," Kamira explained, her voice growing darker. "Instead of partnership, you get domination. The spirit takes over completely, and the human becomes... something else. Something that hunts other spirit users, something monstrous. "
A chill ran down Anjero's spine. "And my mother thinks I can help stop this?"
"Your spirit is different," Mashù said quietly. "Aalto isn't just any water spirit, is she? When you were fighting earlier, I felt something that reminded me of the old stories my grandmother used to tell. Stories about the Ancient Spirits—the ones from before the modern era, before droids, phones and such, before any of this." He gestured around the cafeteria. "If that's what you're carrying, then yeah, you might be exactly what we need."
Anjero felt Aalto stir in response to Mashù's words, a sense of ancient memory and vast, patient power. For just a moment, he caught a glimpse of something immense—not just a spirit, but a force of nature itself, constrained into partnership with a human form.
*What are you?* he asked silently.
*I am what remains,* Aalto replied, her mental voice carrying the weight of millennia. *And you, young guardian, are hope.*
The conversation continued around him, but Anjero found himself only half-listening, his attention turned inward to this new revelation about his spirit. Whatever was coming, whatever his mother had seen that required him to become "invincible," he was beginning to understand that his role would be far more significant than he'd imagined.
And despite his fear, despite his confusion and the overwhelming nature of everything he'd learned, a small part of him—the part that had always felt like he didn't quite belong anywhere—finally began to feel like he might have found his purpose.
The cafeteria's warm lights and the gentle murmur of conversation created a bubble of normalcy around their table, but Anjero could sense the weight of larger forces moving beyond this peaceful moment. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new revelations, and probably new dangers.
But tonight, he was surrounded by people who understood what it meant to carry the weight of extraordinary responsibility, and for the first time since arriving at Seishin South, he didn't feel quite so alone.