The air buzzed with energy—raw, untamed, and brimming with potential. The Syndicate's outdoor training arena was massive, with portions of the field rigged for elemental resistance, barrier testing, target ranges, and even complex battle simulations. It was a place built for power to be unleashed—and for that power to be understood.
For the newly formed trio—Ikazuchi, Yuna, and Jin—this was uncharted territory.
Hana stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, a wide grin across her face. "Alright, newbies. Let's see what you've got. First rule of Spark training: I don't care how cool you think your power is—if you can't control it, it's just a flashy way to get yourself killed."
Jin raised his hand. "Uhh… but I don't even have a Spark."
Hana tilted her head at him. "Even better. You've got the most to prove."
Ikazuchi chuckled quietly at that, earning a raised eyebrow from Jin. Yuna stood between them, stretching her arms, her teal-colored eyes sharp with focus but not overly serious. She was a little more composed than before, but still bounced on her toes slightly with energy. "You're gonna be fine," she said to Jin with a small smile. "Probably."
That "probably" did nothing to calm his nerves.
The sun filtered through the high glass panes of the Spark Syndicate's indoor training facility, casting long beams of morning light across the polished floors. The place smelled faintly of metal and scorched air—familiar scents for any Spark user. Hana leaned against a steel column near the entrance, arms crossed, her usual mischievous smirk in place.
"Alright, you three. Time to get stronger or die trying," she declared, voice bright and lighthearted—like this was some fun game.
Jin, still not used to everything, looked around the massive room like he was standing in a dream. "You people are way too comfortable with this superhero deathmatch thing…"
Ikazuchi stood silently near the center of the room. His yellow eyes were focused—not intense, but searching. Ever since the mission, he'd been quieter, as if trying to piece together what he was actually capable of. Lightning still hummed faintly under his skin at times, a reminder of something he didn't quite control.
Hana approached him first.
"You," she said, poking his chest. "You've got a Spark that's pretty powerful IF you know how to use it, but right now? You're just shooting bolts like a stormcloud with bad aim."
Ikazuchi winced a little. "Thanks for the encouragement."
Hana grinned. "I'm trying to help. Pay attention."
She had him start with focus drills—standing barefoot on metal plates that shifted with small jolts of energy. The goal wasn't to release energy, but to feel it, absorb it, understand its nature before reacting.
"You're not using your Spark. You're just flinging the energy like a scared dog baring its teeth. Learn its rhythm. Become its conductor."
There were days he would overload and collapse, sparks dancing wildly across his skin as his own power rebelled against him. But each time, he got back up.
And Hana noticed.
Yuna's training was mental—literally.
Her Spark wasn't elemental or physical. It was psychological: subtle, flexible, and terrifying when used right.
Hana ran her through increasingly difficult "mind mazes"—VR-like simulations built by the Syndicate that created complex emotional scenarios to provoke fear, stress, or confusion.
At first, Yuna struggled. She'd never trained this deeply, and her Spark's influence required composure and clarity—two things she lacked whenever she was overwhelmed.
"No more crying your way out of things," Hana teased one afternoon after Yuna burst out of a simulation with tear-streaked cheeks. "You're not a kid anymore."
"This is harder than it looks," she mumbled, rubbing her temple.
"Welcome to the nightmare," Hana said. "You're not bending spoons here—you're trying to twist what people believe is real. If you do it wrong, you can break yourself faster than them."
Yuna gulped. "...Cool."
Over time, she began learning how to manipulate attention, implant emotional signals, and momentarily stall opponents by clouding their perception.
One day, Ikazuchi entered the training room and saw two sparring dummies fighting each other.
Yuna leaned back smugly. "Illusions are a lot more fun when people believe them."
He laughed for the first time in days.
They were getting closer, little by little. Nothing dramatic—just the quiet, awkward warmth of shared moments. The first time Yuna made him laugh. The first time he didn't feel like a ticking time bomb around her. She still teased him, still acted loud and impulsive—but sometimes she'd go quiet when she looked at him, like she was trying to figure something out too.
Jin was a different story altogether.
He didn't have a Spark. He had Hexen—a weapon so ancient and temperamental, most didn't believe it could be wielded by anyone at all.
It had taken an entire wing of the Spark Syndicate's archives to find anything about it, and even then, all Hana could tell him was: "It's not supposed to listen to anyone. Real picky. The last person that wielded it was around 70 years ago."
But it listened to Jin. Or at least, it didn't kill him when he held it.
He trained with the sword every day, despite the heaviness in his limbs and the sharp pain that sometimes lanced through his arm when the flames flared up. The Flames of Malevolency were cold, white, and hungry—and when they touched the floor, they didn't burn it; they removed it. As if the energy was being devoured.
"Jin, you need to learn control. This thing isn't just strong—it's dangerous," Hana warned.
"Yeah, well, so am I."
He said it with a cocky grin, but his hands were shaking. Sometimes, he looked down at Hexen with a strange mix of awe and fear.
As for the team itself, they didn't come together instantly. There were arguments. Tensions. Yuna and Jin bickered constantly, especially when Jin made reckless decisions.
"Are you trying to die?" she yelled one morning after he nearly activated Hexen mid-spar.
"Maybe! It's better than dying of boredom while you throw imaginary mind puzzles at people!"
Ikazuchi played mediator more than once, quietly dragging them apart before they killed each other.
But slowly, the tension shaped something new—chemistry. They stopped stepping on each other's toes, and started syncing their strengths.
Yuna would throw illusions to disorient. Ikazuchi would intercept energy attacks. Jin would find openings no one else saw and strike with insane precision.
By the end of their third week, they weren't just survivors. They were becoming a team.
One morning, after a particularly intense session, Hana called them over, brushing dust from her tank top.
"Alright, kids. Time to stop hitting walls and start hitting real people."
Jin looked up, bloodied lip curled into a grin. "Wait... You mean like a mission?"
Hana's grin widened.
"Nope. Something better. A tournament."
Yuna blinked. "Wait—what? Like… like an actual tournament? Fighting other Spark users?"
Ikazuchi's fists tensed involuntarily, eyes narrowing with interest.
Hana's eyes gleamed with excitement and mischief. "Yup! It's a huge competition for recruits like you, so we can know how good you really are. We got recruits from all over the country in it, so it's not gonna be a walk in the park."
Jin got up. "Alright! Time for some action. Going toe to toe with people from all over the country?"
"Jin, you don't even have a spark." Yuna said rolling her eyes.
"And therefore?" Jin retorted, his sword lighting up with the flames of malevolency.
"Okay okay, save your beef. If you wanna fight to the death, wait till the tournament. Anyway, I'm just here to tell you that it's 5 days from now. If you want to prove yourself and rank up, that's the best time to do it. Alright, imma leave you to train. No dying on that day. And if you don't make me proud, I'm gonna kill you all." And with that, Hana left them to prepare for the event that would catalyse so much more later...