As the air around Timeo thickened with tension, he stood there, motionless, his mind focused, yet his expression slowly began to shift. A chilling grin spread across his face, an unsettling, confident smirk that seemed out of place in such a dire moment. His lips curled upward in a way that felt almost predatory. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous flicker, as if he had embraced the darkness, something that felt far removed from the calm figure he had been moments ago. It was a grin that spoke of someone who had accepted the inevitable, a grim realization that only he truly understood.
The moment hung heavy in the air, time seeming to freeze as Timeo allowed himself a brief second of unsettling satisfaction. He had, for that instant, reveled in the madness of it all. But, just as quickly as it had come, the grin faded, slipping back into his usual, unreadable calm. His expression once more became neutral, but something about him had shifted. It was as if he had embraced something darker — and now, he stood poised, ready to unleash it.
Timeo turned his focus back to Souta, his eyes locking with the man's in silent challenge. There was no turning back now.
Without another word, Timeo raised the blade to his throat. The sharp edge met his skin with precision, and in a heartbeat, Timeo sliced deeply across his neck. His blood poured out in torrents, splattering across the ground and swirling in the air with violent grace. The blood began to spiral and churn around him, forming a cyclone that whipped the crimson liquid in all directions. The intense, chaotic energy fueled Timeo's transformation.
Leo's eyes widened in shock, unable to look away from the horrific yet mesmerizing scene unfolding before him. "W-What the hell?!" he muttered in disbelief, his heart pounding as the sight before him defied all logic. Timeo was bleeding, but rather than weakening, he was… changing. The blood wasn't just pouring out — it was becoming a force of its own. Leo felt his breath catch in his throat. There was something terrifyingly powerful about what Timeo was doing, and he didn't know whether to feel fear, awe, or both.
As his blood poured from his veins, Timeo's body underwent a violent shift. His clothes began to change, transforming into something far more powerful. A long, silver-white trench coat materialized, billowing dramatically as if caught by the wind. The hem flared, giving him a regal, almost ethereal presence. A deep red, tattered scarf wrapped itself around his neck, trailing like a banner of defiance. Beneath the coat, tactical gear, belts, and gloves formed, layering his body with battle-ready strength, giving him the appearance of a hardened warrior. His every movement exuded an air of power, the kind forged by war and hardship.
The blood that poured from his wound enveloped him, creating a violent, swirling storm of crimson that surrounded him like a cocoon of dark energy. The very air seemed to tremble as his transformation reached its peak. As Timeo's body morphed into this new form, a towering figure appeared behind him — a phantom, regal and divine in its design. It stood as a massive, futuristic entity, wearing a long, white, high-collared coat with red accents and gold trim. Its body was sleek and angular, mechanical and precise, with blades and halo-like structures extending from it, exuding an aura of overwhelming power. The face of the phantom was masked, its sharp, robotic features illuminated by a soft, ethereal glow.
In contrast to the looming figure, Timeo stood composed and defiant, his black hair slightly curly and normal, eyes burning with a new purpose. With a commanding gesture, he extended his hand forward, as if summoning the giant being to stand by him in the coming battle.
The blood that had poured from his neck now manifested itself as a deadly weapon. A long, sharp blade of blood shot out from the swirling cyclone, aimed directly at Souta. Timeo's power surged as the blade collided with Souta's weapon, the force of the impact rattling the air and sending shockwaves through the room.
Souta grunted in effort, struggling to block the powerful strike, but before he could even react fully, the phantom behind Timeo moved with divine precision. Its blades sliced through the air, an extension of Timeo's will, as it stood ready to intervene.
Timeo's glasses, shattered by the violent clash, fell from his face, but he paid them no mind. His transformation was complete. Standing tall and imposing, his phantom by his side, Timeo was now a force to be reckoned with — and this battle was only just beginning.
The phantom, looming large behind him, spoke in a deep, resonant voice, its words cutting through the charged silence. "I am Seigetsu," it declared, its tone unwavering and full of authority. "I stand as this child's will, a reflection of his power."
During the tense standoff, Souta's eyes widened in disbelief. The phantom that had once towered behind Timeo now dissolved into the air like mist, leaving nothing behind but the boy himself—unchanged, save for the long blade he now gripped with quiet authority.
A chill ran down Souta's spine, fear creeping into his heart as he found himself unable to comprehend what had just transpired.
"The hell is happenin'...?" Leo muttered under his breath, swallowing hard as he watched Timeo's unwavering, confident posture—a sight unlike anything he had ever seen from his friend.
Then, just as before, that voice—the same voice from Timeo's dream on the plane—resonated within his mind once again.
It spoke now with even greater clarity, slow, commanding, and composed, as if delivering an undeniable truth:
"At last, you begin to comprehend the truth of your existence... You have severed the shackles that bound you... You have awakened the Eidolon—the silent guardian hidden deep within the corridors of your soul... In doing so, you have taken your first step beyond mortality... not through fear, nor through despair... but through resolute, unshaken will."
"You chose motion over stagnation... You embraced defiance over submission... and in that moment, you redefined yourself."
"Now, wielder of Seigetsu... the time has come... Reclaim what was taken from you... piece by piece... memory by memory... Step into the path of restoration, and carve your destiny with your own hand."
The voice faded into a low, echoing hum, leaving only the sound of Timeo's steady breathing—and the palpable tension that filled the broken room.
Timeo raised the blade in his hand, noticing the heavy chain dangling from the hilt, swaying gently beneath it. Despite its impressive length and the weight of the chain, the weapon felt almost unnaturally light in his grasp.
As if instinctively understanding how to wield it, Timeo shifted his stance, the blade held low and angled behind him. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, covering the distance with a powerful step. His body moved fluidly, dragging the blade in a wide arc around him—its edge suddenly igniting with a dark, crackling fire.
The searing slash carved through the air with fierce precision, forcing Souta to hastily raise his weapon in defense and retreat backward, cornered and rattled by the sudden ferocity of the assault.
Souta gritted his teeth, feeling the cold stone at his back. With a rough shout, he pushed off the wall, charging at Timeo with a low, powerful thrust aimed directly at his side.
Timeo reacted instantly. His right foot slid back into a slanted stance, knees bent, and he caught the incoming blade with a sharp parry across the flat of his own sword, absorbing the thrust and letting it slide away rather than meeting it dead-on. Sparks skittered through the air.
Without pausing, Souta transitioned into a tight side cut, angling for Timeo's midsection. Timeo shifted—half a step back, twisting his shoulders—the blade narrowly missing his jacket. His chain clinked as he moved.
Reading Souta's next move, Timeo bent his knees deeper and dragged the tip of his sword low across the floor. In one fluid motion, he spun, blade carving a wide sweeping arc aimed at Souta's legs, forcing him to backpedal clumsily.
Seizing the opening, Timeo reversed the momentum of his blade, bringing it upward in a savage diagonal slash, burning through the air with sheer velocity. Souta managed to bring his sword up just in time, catching the attack with a loud crash of steel—but the force sent him stumbling back hard, slamming against the wall.
For a brief moment, everything froze.
Timeo advanced calmly. His steps were deliberate, weight always centered, his blade hovering defensively but ready to strike at any moment.
Souta, breathing heavily, tried to raise his sword—but Timeo lunged forward with a precise thrust, locking blades with him at an angle. Twisting his wrist expertly, Timeo pried Souta's weapon down, breaking his guard completely.
With a final, decisive horizontal cut, Timeo struck across Souta's chest—not deep enough to kill, but heavy enough to knock the man clean off balance.
Souta collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain, his weapon clattering uselessly beside him.
Leo, wide-eyed, finally shook off his shock.
"Timeo! Let's book it!"
Timeo nodded once, sparing a cold glance at the fallen man, then turned swiftly. Together, they sprinted through the damaged halls, weaving between toppled lanterns and broken debris, adrenaline pushing their bodies faster than thought.
The building's entrance burst into view—beyond it, air and the road leading back toward Aobashi.
They didn't stop until they were far away, racing along shadowed backstreets until the familiar glow of Aobashi's vicinity wrapped around them.
Only then, once safely back within the city's edge, did Timeo feel the shift.
He glanced down—his long silver-white trench coat flickered like mist, then dissolved into wisps of smoke. His regular clothes—the simple jacket and pants he wore before—reformed naturally, untouched, as if the transformation had never occurred.
The sword he carried—heavy and humming with energy—vanished just as subtly, fading into nothingness.
Timeo exhaled slowly. His hands were empty again. His heart, however, still raced with the memory of the phantom battle... and the undeniable, terrifying power he had unleashed.
Leo, panting beside him, finally found his voice.
"...What the hell just happened back there, man...? You literally sliced your own damn neck!"
Timeo remained silent, eyes forward.
He didn't know how to answer yet.
Timeo felt a shift deep within him, like he had stepped onto a different path than the one he was walking before. A path he knew he couldn't easily leave behind.
Still, he kept his voice calm as he glanced at Leo.
"Let's go. We can still catch the next bus. We're already late."
Leo, still a little shaken, nodded and followed without saying anything. They moved quickly, their footsteps steady against the warm pavement as they headed toward the main road.
The sun hung high, bright and hot. The streets buzzed lightly with the usual daytime noise—cars passing by, people chatting in the distance, the occasional barking of a dog. It felt almost wrong, how normal everything seemed after what they had just gone through.
Timeo kept his hands in his pockets, feeling the faint tingling in his fingers where he had held the blade earlier. The weapon was gone, but the feeling it left behind stayed, like an invisible weight.
When they finally reached the bus stop, a simple bench shaded by a tree, Leo slumped down onto it, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"You..." Leo started, his voice rough. He paused, looking for the right words. "You sure you're alright, man? You were..." He motioned vaguely, clearly struggling to explain what he had seen.
Timeo stayed silent for a few seconds, staring down the street. The words from earlier still echoed in his mind.
"Restore what was lost..."
The sound of an approaching bus broke the moment.
Timeo turned slightly toward Leo, a small, almost unreadable smile crossing his face.
"I'm fine," he said, though something in the way he spoke made it clear that things were already changing.
The bus pulled up with a soft hiss of the doors opening. Without another word, they stepped inside, blending back into the busy life of the city, but knowing deep down that what happened that day would follow them for a long time.
To be continued...