Chapter: Stories, Swords, and Shattered Realities
Akira City basked in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. The streets bustled with life—laughter, distant music, and the sweet smell of desserts from nearby shops filled the air.
Xzavier walked alongside Nova, each holding a towering ice cream cone as they strolled through a lively plaza. Xzavier wore his usual casual fit—dark jacket, black boots, and a subtle eyepatch that covered his right eye, hiding his powerful secret. Nova walked beside him proudly, holding Xzavier's free hand, his tiny wooden sword tied to his belt with a piece of red string.
"So there I was," Xzavier said, licking his chocolate swirl, "hanging from a cliff with nothing but a single kunai stuck in the rock. Tsubaki had already crossed the other side, and there were berserkers climbing up below me—like, at least a dozen!"
Nova's eyes widened. "W-What did you do?!"
"I let go," Xzavier said with a grin.
"You what?!"
"Yeah. I flipped midair, threw the kunai up at a tree branch, grabbed it, spun like a boss, and slingshot myself across the gorge. Nailed the landing."
Nova gasped in awe. "That's so cool!!"
Xzavier grinned. "Yeah, it was… kinda awesome."
As they walked toward the fountain, Xzavier suddenly noticed the small wooden sword strapped to Nova's side. It was carved roughly but with care, and someone—probably Zadie—had drawn a lightning bolt on it in blue marker.
"You keepin' that with you all the time now?" Xzavier asked.
Nova nodded proudly. "I'm gonna be a Warden someday! Just like you, Xzavier!"
Xzavier smiled, then leaned down and extended his fist. Nova tapped it with his own.
"Then keep training, little warrior."
---
Elsewhere…
A storm of darkness and light ripped through Akira's shattered forest, now a crumbling void of cracked space and warped air. Sensei Gara and Gimori Aku no clashed again and again, each blow echoing like thunder through time itself.
Gara was bleeding. His robe torn. His movements slower.
Gimori laughed maniacally, slamming him into the dirt with the back of his corrupted blade. "What happened to that fabulous flair, Gara? You're breaking."
Gara coughed, pushing himself up. His violet eyes narrowed. "You're right. I was holding back."
He closed his eyes.
The mark beneath his left eye glowed silver, and suddenly a radiant, shifting pattern emerged around his iris—like a clockwork galaxy spinning in his eye.
"Sacred Eye: Unbound Divinity."
Gara's energy exploded outward—graceful and celestial, forcing Gimori back.
Now it was Gara on the offensive—moving like a flash of moonlight, slicing reality itself with every swing of his twin crescent blades. Gimori was barely able to keep up, his blocks ragged, his corrupted aura being pushed back.
Gimori growled and thrust his hand forward.
"Legendary Art: Demonic Lash!"
A wave of pure hatred, shaped like a serpent made of tendrils, surged forward, tearing through trees, space, and time.
Gara exhaled and held his blades together.
"Legendary Art: Conqueror's Vow!"
A monumental surge of cosmic energy, shaped like a phoenix with a blade as its beak, clashed against Gimori's serpent.
The collision broke the sky.
Space shattered like glass. Time twisted. The dimension they fought in imploded, flinging them through a tunnel of broken realms.
Boom. One world shattered.
Boom. Another realm cracked.
Boom. A mirror-dimension collapsed into itself.
Until at last…
Everything. Collapsed.
The battlefield turned black. Empty. Silent.
Nothing existed.
Then, from the void, a figure floated down slowly, glowing with divine light and a heavy sigh.
God. His body glowed with power, more power than any being in the universe.
A tired-looking man with a white button-up shirt, loose slacks, and a nametag that read "Supreme Deity" appeared next to god. This was Titanus Sarutobi.
Gimori groaned. "Really? This is the sixteenth time!"
God rubbed his temples. "It's always you two. I just got this version of reality ironed out."
Gimori pointed accusingly. "It's Gara! He just refuses to die!"
Gara floated lazily upside down, arms crossed. "He sliced my mask, insulted my face, shattered my favorite forest, and started a dimension war. I call that self-defense."
God raised his hand to restore the infinite multiverse.
But Gara waved him off. "No, no. I got it."
God blinked. "You sure?"
Gara's expression was flat and mildly annoyed. "I do this like twice a month."
With a sigh, Sensei Gara drew his final blade, "Legendary Art: Galaxia Nocturne."
The blade gleamed with all the stars, galaxies, and possibilities of creation. One swing, and light poured from it, stitching the multiverse back together.
Every reality restored.
Every moment returned.
The forest. The people. Time itself.
Gara slid the blade back into its sheath. "There. Fixed it. Again."
Gimori growled in the distance, already vanishing into a portal of darkness.
God sipped from a cosmic coffee mug and muttered, "I swear… y'all need therapy."