Akio landed softly inside his room. The familiar hush wrapped around him at once, broken only moments later by the faint shift of air as Gabriel slipped in behind him, soundless as a shadow.

  He reached up and removed his mask, exhaling slowly. The breath trembled more than he liked, carrying with it the residue of the mission. He let it out anyway, willing the tension to bleed from his shoulders.

  “Aira’s not coming home today,” he said mildly. “We can take it easy for once.”

  Gabriel set his mask aside and unclipped his cloak, the fabric settling with a soft rustle.

  “Mm,” he replied. “That’s convenient.”

  Akio peeled off his gloves and set them down with habitual neatness. His gaze drifted to the device resting on the table nearby. It caught the light faintly, metal casing smooth and compact, its sealed core humming with restrained data.

  He picked it up, thumb brushing absently over its surface. His thoughts slid immediately back into strategy. The Hollow was escalating. Echo was exploiting the chaos. They were fighting battles on two fronts, which meant any fragment of information that could tip the balance mattered.

  Akio adjusted his grip and let his focus narrow. He tuned out the room, the weight of the device grounding him as he honed in on the contact between metal and skin. Beneath the calm exterior, his light stirred—familiar, responsive. Cool clarity washed through his thoughts as he prepared to activate his ability.

  This will be quick. Just a simple read, a few seconds at most.

  He was just about to initiate when a hand closed around his wrist.

  The interruption was gentle but firm, sudden enough to snap his concentration. Akio blinked, breath catching as he turned to find Gabriel standing closer than before, his expression stripped of its usual ease.

  “You’ve already read two facilities today,” Gabriel said, eyes searching his face. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Akio began with quiet insistence. “This won’t—”

  Warmth slid from his nose, thick and heavy. A drop oozed against his lip.

  Akio went still. He blinked once, then slowly raised a finger to his face. When he pulled his hand back, dark red liquid glistened faintly against his skin, catching the low light of the room. For a second, his mind refused to supply meaning.

  I’m… bleeding?

  The thought came with quiet alarm rather than panic, distant and unreal, as if he were observing someone else entirely. He stood there staring at his fingertips, trying to reconcile the sight with the complete absence of pain.

  Only then did he register movement.

  Gabriel had already stepped in close. At some point the device had been removed from Akio’s hand and set aside. Gabriel held a tissue now, dabbing carefully at Akio’s nose, one hand cupping his cheek to steady him. The touch was gentle, practiced, and unmistakably worried.

  Akio didn’t pull away. Instead, his attention turned inward, sharp and analytical, scanning himself with sudden urgency. No injuries. No impact. No lingering ache beyond a faint pressure behind his eyes, the dull tension coiled at the base of his neck. Fatigue he’d ignored until now.

  Internal stress, then.

  There was only one possible cause.

  The realization settled heavily. He’d used his Fractal ability extensively tonight—reading entire facilities, predicting shifting states. Compressing impossible volumes of information into mere seconds. He’d always dismissed the strain because the effects were invisible, because adrenaline drowned out the warning signs.

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  But now… he couldn’t ignore it.

  Gabriel finished wiping away the blood and withdrew his hand, though he didn’t move far. He studied Akio closely, eyes softened with concern.

  “You’re overworking yourself,” he said quietly, but there was no room for argument in his tone. “The vigilante work matters. But so does your health. You need to rest.”

  He paused, gaze steady.

  “Take it easy the rest of tonight. That’s an order.”

  Akio absorbed the words in silence.

  Part of him bristled at the delay, but another part knew Gabriel was right. If he pushed himself into injury now, it would only slow them down later. The thought carried a quiet thread of dread.

  He exhaled slowly and gave a small, tired smile.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll hold off for now.”

  Gabriel didn’t look entirely convinced as he leaned back against the desk.

  “We need to limit how often you use it,” he added. “Small scale reads are one thing. But scanning entire layouts like that should be a last resort.”

  Akio reached up and unclipped his cloak, the weight sliding from his shoulders as he let out another breath.

  “I know,” he said. “I’ll be more careful.”

  Gabriel lingered a moment longer, arms crossed, fingers tapping idly against his sleeve. He didn’t say anything, but Akio knew the thought well enough to recognize it anyway. If Gabriel had his way, Akio wouldn’t use that ability at all.

  But it wasn’t that simple.

  The skill was too effective. Too indispensable to simply throw away. Akio knew, despite the risks it had on his health, that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. He knew Gabriel understood this too.

  Gabriel exhaled softly, the sound carrying a quiet resignation. “We’re gonna be really busy the next couple of days. I just… don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Akio felt something tighten, then loosen again in his chest. He nodded once.

  Gabriel rolled his wrist, as if shaking off the weight of the conversation, then paused at the door.

  “I’ll make you something to drink,” he added, glancing back. “Why don’t we watch a movie?”

  Akio’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “That sounds good,” he said. “Thanks.”

  Once Gabriel left, the room fell quiet again. Akio finished removing the rest of his vigilante gear, trading reinforced fabric for something softer, more familiar. He slipped on a clean shirt and ran a hand through his hair, letting the cool air and lingering exhaustion settle into a low, steady hum beneath his skin.

  As he turned to leave the room, his gaze caught on the small dustbin by the wall.

  Inside, several crumpled tissues sat stained with faint blotches of red. It wasn’t much blood. Barely enough to matter, logically speaking. But against the stark white paper, the color stood out sharply, impossible to ignore.

  Akio stared at it for a beat longer than necessary.

  Then, he looked away and stepped out into the living room.

  Gabriel was already there, standing by the couch, scrolling through a catalogue on the TV. A mug of tea sat waiting on the low table. Akio picked it up and wrapped his hands around the ceramic, welcoming the warmth. He sat down on the couch and took a slow sip, letting the fragrant heat spread through his chest.

  Gabriel dropped down beside him a moment later, setting a bowl of popcorn between them with a satisfied grin.

  “What did you pick?” Akio asked, curiosity softening his voice.

  Gabriel smiled wider. “An animated movie about a rat who wants to be a chef,” he said. “So he infiltrates a five star restaurant and secretly collaborates with the garbage boy.”

  Akio huffed a quiet laugh. “Sounds like quite the interesting premise.”

  They settled in, the room filling with light and sound as the movie began. Akio let himself relax a little. He leaned back into the couch, followed the story, allowed the easy rhythm of the night to take hold.

  But even then, he never fully let go. Because somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of those bloodied tissues lingered.

  Quiet. Persistent.

  Refusing to fade.

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Damien

  ——————————————————

  Reviews for a movie that may or may not be Ratatouille

  Akio: ★★★★☆ (4/5)

  The central theme of this movie is about legitimacy vs merit. It explores how authority is inherited, talent is disguised, and how systems refuse to accept excellence if it comes from the “wrong” place. A well thought out critique on how social hierarchies don’t reward skill, but recognizability. It makes you wonder how many people never got their moment.

  Gabriel: ★★★★★ (5/5)

  This rat has better operational security than 90% of people I know in real life. The garbage boy being piloted like a mech was S-tier espionage tactics. When he told the rat his apartment “wasn’t much”, I felt that in my soul. The floating ghost chef egging him on was hype. This movie has inspired me to adopt a rat and teach it how to cook.

  Damien: ★★☆☆☆ (2/5)

  The issue with this film lies in the assumption that those in power would voluntarily step aside, and that established systems can collapse with minimal resistance. A single meal does not dismantle an institution. The food critic should have taken the recipe and monopolized the market, instead he chose sentiment over practicality. At least he recognized when he was obsolete.