Zeno's body slipped from my hands, crumpling like a puppet with cut strings. I stood on the balcony, the fading cheers of the crowd rising toward me like a distant echo.
I was too exhausted to process it.
Kuroen—his summoning drained more energy than I could have imagined, and I hadn't even trained with him properly.
The world spun. My eyelids grew heavy.
Kokuto Café...
I should go there. I wonder if they're open right now. I just... want something sweet.
Then came silence.
My body moved on its own, collapsing onto the balcony's edge—then tumbling off.
I couldn't stand anymore.
The next day. Elsewhere, the world stirred.
The news of me—the hunter who had summoned wings from Kuroen's armor—swept across the globe like wildfire. Everyone was talking about it: two winged beings battling mid-air like gods.
The Association had to act.
They found me unconscious, and rather than treat me like a hero, they locked me up—inside their headquarters, behind bars—waiting for me to wake.
