Long ago, in the Eastern Ramdir… at the hallowed Temple of Kortoro
"You must become water," the old master's voice echoed—crisp as the mountain wind. "Not just calm. Still. You cannot master chi until you are at peace with both body and mind."
Two boys, each twelve, stood before him in postures that had become both familiar and punishing.
One was a statue—balanced on one foot, eyes closed, a smooth stone bowl filled to the brim atop his head. His breath was steady, his spine perfectly aligned, and a soft mantra slipped in rhythm from his lips.
The other—
"ACK—WHY IS THIS SO ITCHY—!"
CLONK! A cane smacked him squarely between the shoulder blades.
"Straighten your spine!"
"Sensei, I think the ants are climbing into my pants and organizing a rebellion!"
The master gave him a tired glance. "Nature is always against us. You must find peace in the chaos. Peace, Gin. The ants are a reflection of your mind. They bite because you resist."
"Sensi, come on—"
"They bite," Gin grumbled, "because they're ants."
Katsu—the bowl boy—snorted without losing balance.
"Laugh all you want," Gin muttered, wobbling as he tried to re-enter the pose. His water had long since spilled into the dirt. "You only win at meditation. Not sparring."
That part, at least, was true.
In every fight, even when Katsu had trained, cultivated, and sharpened his chi—harnessing speed, defense, even elemental form—Gin always found a way to win. It wasn't pretty. Improvised, chaotic, sometimes borderline reckless. But it worked.
The master often said, "You have raw potential. But no patience. No discipline. Your chi is too wild. Unrefined. Chi is not just power, Gin. It is your life force. It can give strength and speed, yes—but also healing, clarity, balance. You ignore that, and you will break before you bloom."
But Gin didn't care about blooming. He cared about proving people wrong.
Why did everything always come back to peace, spirit, stillness? As far as he could tell, the people who went on and on about peace were often the first ones to punch each other in the face when it came down to it.
He scowled. "Maybe if I could see how I move… I'd finally understand what I'm doing wrong."
The master raised an eyebrow.
"I mean," Gin continued, "you say my chi is chaotic, right? That I lose control? But I can't see what you see. How am I supposed to fix it?"
Katsu sighed, already knowing where this was going.
"You've obsessed over this before. Just use a mirror if you want to see yourself."
"But that's not the same!" Gin insisted. "When I fight, people always tell different versions of what happened. Some say I'm wild. Some say I'm ruthless. Some say I'm brilliant but terrible to watch."
"Because you are," Katsu replied bluntly. "You fight like a hungry badger possessed by lightning."
Gin nodded. "Exactly. So don't you want to know what that looks like? What if I could replay it? Stop, zoom in extra close, rewind, analyze it… actually see how I move, where I go wrong, and how to improve?"
The master stared at him.
"That kind of idea doesn't exist in this world."
He lifted his cane and smacked Gin again with a whack!
"Focus on your training."
"Ouch!!"
Now...
The stars shimmered above a still black lake, their reflections gently rippling on the water's surface.
"I'm serious," the girl whispered, glancing around nervously. "There are warning signs everywhere. This forest is classified as an 'Active Anomaly Risk Zone.'"
"It's just a fancy title," the guy said, spreading out a blanket on the grass. "No one's found a gate this close to the city in years. Besides…" He grinned, pulling her closer. "Kind of romantic, right? Just you, me, a restricted lake, and the looming threat of extradimensional danger. Muahahaha."
She laughed—then suddenly stopped.
Because the sky exploded.
A howling vortex of gold and blue cracked open beyond the treeline, tearing reality like paper. Wind surged, yanking their blanket into the lake.
"What the—!" the guy shouted, shielding her as lightning danced through the air.
Then something fell.
A body.
It crashed through the treetops and landed with a sodden thud just down the trail.
They froze.
"I... I think a person just crash-landed," the girl stammered.
"Yep," the guy said, already walking. "Let's go see if they're alive. Or, you know... alien."
They jogged over. The air buzzed with static.
"Yo!" the guy called. "You good?!"
The figure groaned and sat up slowly, dirt sliding from his tangled hair. Steam hissed faintly off his skin. His back rippled with muscle, skin marbled with faint glowing scars like lightning etched beneath the flesh.
"Urgh... That was not a nice fall," he muttered, squinting. "Unless the ancestors have finally banished me to the afterlife..." He chuckled weakly. "No... even they wouldn't be that cruel."
The girl blinked. "Did he just say—'ancestors'?"
The man turned toward them, slowly. His golden eyes gleamed in the dark. Blood trickled from his temple, but his expression was calm—too calm. He was handsome in a wild, vaguely divine sort of way. Like someone who accidentally blew up a monastery and didn't feel that bad about it.
"Excuse me," he said, standing—and immediately wobbling. "Is this... the afterlife?"
The girl opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
The man scanned the air. "Strange. The chi here feels... dense. Twisted."
Then he looked down.
So did they.
"Oh my god," the guy groaned. "Dude. You're completely naked."
The girl turned crimson.
The man blinked, then nodded. "Ah. That explains the breeze."
He casually turned around, hands on hips. "Modesty is a construct of the weak."
The guy yanked off his jacket and threw it at him. "Put that on, barbarian! My girlfriend's going into shock!"
Gin caught it with one hand and wrapped it around his waist like a toga. "Your offering is accepted, angels."
"Angels?" she whispered.
"I think he's concussed... and jacked," the guy whispered back.
The stranger sat down, folding his legs, attempting a meditative pose. His hands trembled.
"No flow..." he murmured. "I can't feel it. My chi. It's gone."
"Chi?" the guy echoed. "What the hell is chi? Babe, should we call patrol?"
The man stood again, still dazed. "How do warriors here fight without chi? Without energy?"
"Uh... we use Pulse," the guy said, confused. "Wait—do you not even have a Pulse?"
Gin's ears perked. "Pulse?"
The guy narrowed his eyes. "Wait, you don't know Prime either?"
"Is he your strongest warrior? I would like to duel him."
The couple exchanged glances.
"You wanna fight Prime?" the girl said. "You're insane. Check Herotube—he's the strongest man alive."
Gin, unfazed, was deep in thought. "Then I must meet him."
"Okay. Enough of this." The guy stepped back, cracking his knuckles. "Let me show you."
His body shimmered, then expanded—muscles bulging, frame growing five times in size. His voice deepened into a thunderous growl, but his clothes adapted seamlessly.
The girl sighed. "You always look so hot like this."
He smirked.
Gin stared in awe. "How... how do you possess such power? What temple taught you this?"
Before he could answer, flashing lights sliced through the trees.
"Crap," the girl muttered. "I forgot—we called the cops."
Two patrol officers approached fast, weapons drawn.
"Hands where I can see them!"
The guy immediately dropped his transformation, raising his hands. His girlfriend followed.
Gin, however, waved innocently. "Hello, sirs. What temple do you represent?"
One officer, clearly the senior, strode forward with practiced authority.
"When a man with a drawn gun tells you to stop, you stay put," he snapped.
"I merely seek information," Gin replied calmly, still walking forward.
"Don't move!"
Gin kept walking, waving politely.
The officer shook his head. "You leave me no choice."
His eyes flashed white as lightning danced across his arms.
BOOM—
A bolt of electricity shot forward, slamming into Gin's chest.
He collapsed instantly.
"Get him in the car," the officer muttered. "Damn civilians always making my job harder."