Chapter 6 – “The Sin of the Sword”

  The sky above the training ground darkened. Not literally—

  But the pressure…

  The air itself weighed differently now.

  The masked Executioner stood still, aura flaring violently. His bloodlust was tangible, pouring over the fake city like a black fog. Students in nearby sectors began to feel it too—even if they didn’t know why.

  Takiomi’s legs froze.

  His heartbeat slowed.

  That smirk… that aura... it couldn’t be.

  “You… you were supposed to be dead…”

  The villain chuckled low.

  “We both were. But death is funny, isn’t it? Especially for those cursed by fate.”

  A Glimpse into the Past (Flashback Fragment)

  Suddenly, it hit him—

  A flash. A battlefield.

  Blood. Fire.

  And a man wielding the same scythe… but without a mask.

  Takiomi—no—Taki Omen stood opposite him.

  Both were wounded.

  Both were screaming.

  "Draven! Snap out of it!"

  "You already chose this path, Omen!"

  Blades clashed. Screams echoed. Then—silence.

  Takiomi gasped, stumbling back into the present.

  The Mask Shatters

  With a single pull, the Executioner ripped his mask off.

  Aika gasped.

  Takiomi’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  White hair. Crimson eyes. That familiar face—just older. Twisted. Consumed.

  "Draven… Umbra."

  Draven grinned, spreading his arms wide like a welcoming demon.

  “Nice to see you again, partner.”

  The Darkness Awakens

  Takiomi’s aura burst outward. Not by choice. Not by pride.

  It was rage.

  It was betrayal.

  It was the sword’s voice screaming in sync with his heart.

  Mugen changed in his hand—its blade splitting into jagged, glowing runes. The temperature dropped.

  His pupils narrowed into slits. His voice was deeper. Unfamiliar.

  His inner self was rising to the surface.

  Aika stepped back, her breath caught in her throat.

  “Takiomi…?”

  He wasn’t answering.

  Draven stepped forward, dragging his scythe lazily.

  "Show me… show me that legendary blade again. Let me see what’s left of the demon they once called Omen."

  The pressure in the air intensified.

  Takiomi’s breath became shallow, his pulse erratic.

  The villain before him, the Executioner, still held his scythe with sadistic confidence. But to Takiomi’s mind, something was wrong. His vision blurred.

  “This isn’t real…”

  The sky above the training ground darkened, but only in Takiomi’s mind.

  The world around him bent and twisted, morphing into images he couldn’t control.

  It felt like the very air was suffocating him.

  His hand trembled as he raised Mugen, its blackened edge reflecting something far more dangerous than the masked man before him.

  A False Memory

  Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

  The Executioner’s mask shattered before his eyes—

  But not to reveal a faceless villain.

  No, instead, Takiomi saw the very person he dreaded.

  Draven.

  His past. His former comrade, now turned enemy.

  His memories came rushing back in a torrent—blood, screams, and the final, heart-wrenching betrayal.

  “You… you were supposed to be dead…”

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  The figure before him grinned with an all-too-familiar twisted smile.

  “Ah, Taki. You’ve really forgotten the taste of blood, haven’t you?”

  Takiomi’s body froze as Draven’s mocking words echoed in his head.

  "Draven…" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

  The sword in his hand began to pulse—Mugen’s aura swelling unnaturally, as if it were reacting to the darkness welling inside him.

  Takiomi’s knees buckled, and his mind screamed at him to snap out of it.

  The Truth Crashes In

  "Takiomi!"

  Aika’s voice broke through the fog in his mind.

  She was shouting, but it felt distant—faint.

  Her words didn’t reach him in time, not before his vision twisted again, pulling him deeper into the illusion.

  The figure before him, though still wearing the Executioner’s garb, warped and distorted with each passing second. His presence felt suffocating, but the image was clear to Takiomi’s shattered psyche. It was Draven.

  “Omen, come back to me.”

  But that wasn’t right. His thoughts began to cloud even further, but as he blinked—he saw it.

  Draven’s face slowly warped back into the familiar mask of the Executioner.

  The illusion shattered.

  Takiomi snapped back to reality.

  He was here.

  Not in the past.

  Not in Draven’s shadow.

  The Executioner—the villain—stood before him, his eyes burning with malice. But Takiomi’s own eyes were wide with realization.

  He’d been seeing things—his powers were distorting his perception.

  Confronting the Reality

  The Executioner grinned, sensing Takiomi’s hesitation.

  “The curse of your past... Is that what haunts you, Omen?”

  Takiomi gritted his teeth, his hands still trembling, but now with rage. He fought against the pull of the darkness that tried to overwhelm him. It was his own mind twisting things—his powers… they fed on the fear and confusion.

  “Shut up!” He shouted, his voice growing steadier.

  His grip tightened on Mugen.

  With a fierce battle cry, he pushed the nightmare away.

  He had to. For Aika’s sake. For his future.

  “You’ll never control me!”

  A New Resolve

  The Executioner cocked his head, amused by the change in Takiomi’s demeanor.

  “You’ll never escape it, boy. That darkness is who you are. You can’t outrun yourself.”

  Takiomi clenched his jaw. His katana now pulsed with dark energy again—different from before, more controlled. His thoughts were sharper. The sword was more than just an instrument of power; it was a part of him.

  “I’m not running anymore.”

  In a flash of black energy, Takiomi lunged forward.

  Suddenly, the ground trembled.

  A sinister pressure erupted from Takiomi’s body, dark flames swirling wildly around him—wrapping him like a storm of chaos. His aura pulsed violently, like a beast finally breaking free from its chains.

  The air grew thick. Heavy. Suffocating.

  The Executioner’s eyes widened behind his mask.

  “What... what is this?” he muttered, stepping back.

  The villain’s grin faded, replaced by something rare—genuine concern.

  For a brief moment, the theatrics fell away. He tapped a device on his wrist, contacting Hero Kinetic directly.

  “Kinetic. This is Executioner... Get a healer squad ready. Now.”

  Kinetic’s voice came through with static.

  “Why the hell are you breaking character? What’s going on?”

  The Executioner didn’t take his eyes off the raging boy surrounded in violent, crackling shadows.

  “The boy… he’s breaking. His power—it's not normal. He's not just some top scorer. He’s a goddamn anomaly. I’m going to push him past his limits to see what’s hiding underneath. If I don't stop this at the right time…” he paused, “we might lose him completely.”

  Takiomi’s Inner World

  Inside his mind, Takiomi stood in a sea of black fire. A void.

  The same voice echoed again.

  “You’re afraid, aren’t you? Of who you really are.”

  A shadow stepped forward. It had no face, but its eyes glowed crimson—just like his.

  “You can’t control me. You’re not worthy.”

  Takiomi dropped to one knee, clutching his head, teeth gritted.

  “I… am not… you!”

  The shadow chuckled.

  “We’ll see.”

  Back in Reality

  Takiomi’s body floated slightly off the ground now. Flames of darkness licked the air, cracking the nearby pavement. His katana, Mugen, pulsed violently, barely containing the energy.

  Aika stepped forward, eyes wide.

  “Takiomi! You have to stop!”

  But he didn’t respond.

  The Executioner gripped his scythe tighter, now more cautious than ever.

  He wasn’t fighting a student anymore—

  He was facing something primordial.

  He whispered to himself, half in awe:

  “Takiomi Kessei… just what the hell are you?”

  The Executioner, with a wicked grin, reached out and grabbed Aki’s leg mid-air. Without a shred of mercy, he slammed her into the concrete—once… then again.

  CRACK.

  A horrific sound echoed as Aki’s body lay motionless amidst the rubble, blood trickling from her lip. Her eyes fluttered, barely conscious.

  Takiomi froze.

  His heart stopped.

  A moment of silence.

  And then—

  something inside him snapped.

  The dark flames that once roared around him vanished.

  In their place, a blinding light exploded outward, engulfing the battlefield in an ethereal radiance.

  The Executioner staggered back, shielding his eyes.

  “What… the hell is this light?!”

  As the light shattered like glass, it revealed a figure cloaked in pure, refined power. Takiomi’s body now emitted a silent, cold energy. His pale skin shimmered faintly, and his crimson red eyes—devoid of emotion—stared directly at the Executioner like death itself.

  This was no longer the boy from class.

  This was something ancient.

  Awakened.

  Unforgiving.

  In a blink, he was gone from view.

  BOOM!

  Dust flew into the air as he reappeared beside Aki, cradling her broken body gently.

  He looked down at her—memories flashing behind his eyes.

  That same girl.

  That same night.

  Her blood. His regret.

  His voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear.

  “I won’t lose you… this time.”

  He slowly stood up. His eyes never left the villain.

  Raising his katana high, a powerful surge of divine energy coursed through the blade. The darkness and light swirled together—perfectly balanced, forged into something beyond mortal comprehension.

  His voice echoed with power as he roared:

  “EXCALIBAR!!!”

  A golden beam tore through the sky, crashing down like a judgment from the heavens—aimed straight at the Executioner.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 7: “The Awakening of the Sword Saint”