Two days had passed since Hikari and Lila tore through the darkness of Long Island City to rescue Amanda from Lirael's grasp. The city's scars, remnants of their battle, still marred the streets, their presence lingering like an unsolved riddle. For two relentless days, Hikari had immersed herself in an exhaustive training regimen, pushing herself to limits she didn't know she could reach.
Lila watched with growing disbelief, her eyes tracing the way Hikari's powers unfurled at an impossible pace. The progress was not just fast—it was absurd. Each second seemed to see Hikari more attuned to the pulse of her psionic abilities, as if she were being fed a torrent of energy that fueled her growing mastery. It was beyond anything Lila had seen, even surpassing the likes of Sutaro Katsuki and Arielle Carthage, who were legends in their own right. Hikari's transformation was unfolding in real-time, and yet, she seemed unaware of the true magnitude of her growth.
Hikari's words cut through the air, dragging Lila's attention from the mesmerizing spectacle of her training. "I still can't shake it," she muttered, breathless from a particularly intense session, sweat dripping down her forehead.
Lila, ever the bubbly contrast, arched an eyebrow with a teasing smile. "Shake what~?"
"How, two days ago, when we told Sylvia about the collateral damage that happened in Long Island City," Hikari's voice faltered slightly, "she just completely brushed it off. Like it was nothing."
Lila's smile faded, her eyes narrowing as she set her stance firmly, a rare seriousness slipping over her. "Well… because it's not."
Hikari froze mid-motion, the weight of Lila's words holding her in place. She turned, eyes searching her friend's face for any trace of mockery or jest. "What do you mean?"
Lila's tone softened, but her gaze hardened with the quiet resolve of someone who had seen too much of the world's darkness. "Hikari," she began slowly, choosing her words with care, "one thing you have to realize is… the supernatural world is dangerously unpredictable. This isn't about ghost hunting or cleaning up the paranormal world—it's life or death. Sometimes, you have to make decisions that seem…" Her voice trailed off, her words hanging heavy in the air. "Morally questionable. It's a fight to hold on to your sanity or you'll become the very thing you're fighting against."
The words hit Hikari like a thunderclap. She stood there for a moment, every fiber of her being buzzing with a cold uncertainty. She wanted to argue, to push back against the implication that Sylvia was somehow right, but something in the quiet ferocity of Lila's expression rooted her to the spot.
"What the hell could you mean by that?!" Hikari shot back, her voice tinged with the bitterness of confusion and frustration. "How could she be right, in any way?"
Lila met her gaze steadily, unfazed by the storm brewing in Hikari's mind. "Because, Hikari, you're growing too fast. You're tapping into power you shouldn't even be able to touch yet, and it's not something anyone can control, least of all you." Her eyes softened with an unsettling gentleness. "The fact is, power isn't just a blessing. It comes at a price. You're running headfirst into a war where survival isn't just about strength—it's about sacrificing pieces of yourself along the way. And sometimes…" she let out a long breath, "sometimes you don't have the luxury of moral high ground."
The air between them thickened, the silence stretching on until the only sound left was the echo of Hikari's own racing thoughts. Her mind reeled, her powers surging just beneath her skin as if in response to the words. She could feel the storm inside her growing more restless, her psionic energy gnawing at her, eager for release.
But Lila's words, chilling in their quiet finality, stilled the storm for just a moment. She looked back at her friend, the weight of her role—her true nature—beginning to claw at her. How much longer can I keep this in check?
Hikari: "Isn't The Church supposed to be the hero's, aren't we fighting to save humanity?"
Lila: "In a way, yes. But sometimes saving humanity means sacrificing a few to save billions. You know, the whole 'needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few' thing."
Hikari couldn't believe it. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? That statement, said so casually by someone as cheerful as Lila, hit her like a ton of bricks. "I could understand if you were talking about something non-human," she muttered, still stunned.
Lila: "Hikari, sometimes humans are just as dangerous, if not worse, than supernatural entities. In our world, it's not about saving individuals—it's about saving billions, even if that means sacrificing hundreds or thousands. You'll understand this one day, whether you want to or not."
Hikari opened her mouth to say something, but a ripple cracked through the air beside them.
Katsuki appeared like a glitch in the world—half there, half nightmare. His hair, pitch-black and wild, burned with violet flame that spiraled unnaturally. His eyes glowed like twin voids, unblinking and merciless. His glasses twisted into jagged, geometric shards pulsing with some unnatural rhythm. The ground beneath him didn't crack—it recoiled. A phantom jaw-mask locked around his face, serrated and spectral, like it wanted to chew through reality itself.
"Are you two done with your little morality crisis?" he said, voice like velvet dipped in gasoline.
Hikari stared. "Okay… but seriously. What is Katsuki?"
Lila tilted her head. "You want to explain it, or should I?"
Katsuki smirked as his monstrous form bled away like wet clay down a drain. "Nah, I got it~"
He snapped back into his human form with casual swagger, brushing ash off his sleeves. "So, here's the bite-sized version: I'm what the supernatural world calls a hybrid."
Hikari blinked. "That doesn't tell me anything. What does that mean?"
He tapped a finger to his temple. "Right, right, you're still new to all this. Let me school you real quick."
He leaned against a broken pillar, expression unreadable.
"Hybrids are what happen when a human fuses with something not human. Could be a yokai, a demon, or whatever's lurking in the dark corners of existence. We're walking paradoxes—part person, part entity, all chaos."
He paused, letting that hang in the air.
"There's two ways to end up like me. One's called Aura Merging. That's the 'natural' route—if your Supernatural Affinity is strong enough, your Aura can sync with a supernatural being's. Think of it like… resonance. When that happens, the fusion creates something new—powerful, unstable, and very personal. Your powers get shaped by your fears, wants, trauma… all that emotional baggage you pretend isn't there."
Hikari stayed silent. Katsuki grinned wider.
"The other method?" he tapped his chest. "Surgical transformation. Real Frankenstein stuff. They rip out your heart and replace it with one from a supernatural entity. Sounds edgy, right? That's because it is. You get raw, unfiltered power—but if that heart gets damaged or corrupted?"
He snapped his fingers.
"Boom. You're either dead… or worse. You lose yourself."
Katsuki looked directly at Hikari now, and for a second, the mask almost reformed over his face.
"Hybrids don't get happy endings. We just burn brighter on the way down."
Hikari: "So… which one are you?"
Katsuki: "Aura Merging."
Hikari: "Huh. So not a full-on monster, then?"
Katsuki gave her a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Katsuki: "Everyone's a monster in this world, Hikari. The only difference is how much of one you're willing to admit being."
That line hit heavier than she expected. Hikari had always imagined the supernatural world like an anime: fast punches, flashy powers, maybe a few secret societies. But this? This was something else—something older, hungrier. Something that didn't care if she understood it.
And then—
Nami: "Alright, dicks outta hands. We've still got a mission."
She strutted toward them with all the subtlety of a pink storm. Nami Kuromiya was barely over five feet of pure attitude. Doll-like on the surface, sure—but she was the kind of doll that came with a kill count. Silver hair fell in razor-straight sheets down her back, held up by sharp-looking barrettes. Her eyes, faintly glowing pink, didn't blink unless they had to.
She wore the Church's exorcist uniform like it was a joke—tailored black and bubblegum pink, chains looping from her belt, gloves with reinforced knuckles, and enough mission badges to earn her a small shrine. Cute and terrifying: her favorite combo.
Katsuki: "Damn, Nami. What took you so long? Got lost flickin' the bean in the bathroom~?"
Nami: "Shut the fuck up, Katsuki. You've got a girlfriend and still say the nastiest shit."
Lyra (offscreen): "That's what I've been saying."
They all looked up.
A searing bolt of lightning cracked the sky, and within that split-second flash, a silhouette spiraled downward like divine retribution. She hit the ground like a meteor, sending out a shockwave that rocked the pavement and made every car alarm in a five-block radius scream in terror.
She didn't fall fast. She became lightning.
Lyra Vega rose from the mini-crater without so much as a hair out of place.
Lyra: "That counts as micro-cheating, Katsuki." Her voice was firm. Stern. Almost teacher-like. The kind of tone that made you sit up straight without realizing it.
Lyra was a contradiction in motion. On the surface, she looked like something out of a dream: honey-blonde waves, electric-blue highlights that sparked when the light hit just right, and star-shaped clips that made her seem almost whimsical. Her golden-brown eyes shimmered like they'd swallowed sunlight—and maybe a few secrets.
She looked soft. Safe. Like you could fall asleep beside her and wake up okay. But the way she stood, the quiet confidence in her gaze… she wasn't soft. She chose to look that way.
Her curves fit her outfit like they'd been designed around her, combat-ready but cute as hell. Skirts, jeans, jackets—it didn't matter. She wore everything like she owned the world. And maybe she did, just a little.
Because Lyra wasn't just beautiful.
She was electric.
Katsuki: "Relax. You know I love to play~"
His grin stretched wider than it had any right to, but the tension between him and Lyra was thick enough to slice.
Lyra: "You play too much for my liking!"
Katsuki's eyes went wide, a smirk curling up his lips like he'd uncovered a secret. "Wait… YOU LIKE ME!?" His tone was mock-offended, as if he'd never known—though anyone with a pulse could see through the sarcasm.
Lyra: "No shit, Sherlock. I wonder if I like my own boyfriend."
Nami—who had been standing off to the side, patiently letting this circus unfold—finally rolled her eyes and snapped them back into focus. "Enough! You guys can sort out your fucked-up relationship later. We've got a mission. It's simple. Track down the escapee, Gyo, and investigate the rogue esper. Easy shit. Shouldn't be any harder than that."
Katsuki: "Hold on. Who made you the leader, huh? I'm the strongest hybrid in Japan. I'm known everywhere in the supernatural world." He looked her up and down, waiting for a response.
Nami: "True, but unlike you, I actually know how to lead a group."
Katsuki grinned. "Ouch, Nami. You wound me. You really do." He staggered back as if struck by an invisible blade.
Then, with no warning, Lyra hit him in the stomach—hard. It was a punch that could shatter steel, yet she delivered it like a playful swipe. "I bet that wounded you, huh?"
Hikari couldn't help but blink at the chaotic trio. They tore into each other like they were breathing—especially Lyra and Katsuki, who, for all their banter, were supposed to be dating. "You guys fight a lot…"
Lyra didn't even glance at her. "Why's this nobody still talking?"
Hikari: "What the fuck did you just say to me?" She stormed toward her, ready to give Lyra a piece of her mind. But before she could take another step, Lila slid between them, her voice sharp but calm. "Look, guys, we're on the same side. Can we at least pretend to get along for now?"
Everyone fell silent, looking at Lila. Even Nami didn't make a sound. Lila had a way of getting people to listen, not with power, but with a rare kind of quiet authority. She kept the peace, a necessary force amid the storm of personalities. But even she couldn't resist a little playful jab now and then.
"I know you guys can't go five minutes without ripping each other's throats out, but let's not make this harder than it has to be." Lila's grin was the only thing that kept the mood from cracking under the tension.
Nami: "Now… let's get on with this mission."
To be continued…