Blink: Ethereal Fury

Into The Storm

Benji stood in the war room, feeling the weight of his decision press down on him like a vice. It wasn't the physical strain of returning that weighed on him, but the burden of seeing the others—those he'd left behind—and the guilt that gnawed at the edges of his resolve. This place had been his home, once. Now, the atmosphere felt cold, detached. The kind of cold that made you feel like a stranger in a place you used to know intimately.

He clenched his jaw as Kitsune's words hung in the air: *"You've changed. But so have we, Benji."*

Her voice had been calm, but there was something underneath it, like a dagger hidden in the shadows. Benji didn't miss it—didn't miss the tension that had twisted through the room the moment he walked in. He wasn't some kid anymore, oblivious to the politics of the team. He was different. More. And yet, he wasn't sure if that would matter to any of them.

"Daichi and Mira," Benji said quietly, his eyes still locked on Peacebringer. "Are they here?"

Peacebringer's galactic eyes narrowed, though his expression remained as unreadable as the night sky. "They're still with Oni. Daichi's been working harder than ever. Mira, too. But things... shifted when you left, Benji."

Kitsune's soft laugh cut through the tension like a knife. "Shifted, he says. Daichi damn near killed himself trying to prove he didn't need you. Mira? Well, she took it... differently."

"Differently how?" Benji asked, though he could already guess. Mira had always been the most level-headed of the group, the one who kept everyone grounded. But he knew her well enough to understand that she took things deeply, personally. His sudden absence would've hit her hard.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Kitsune's tone was sharp, but she didn't give Benji time to answer. "They're in the training bay. Though I'd brace yourself. Two years is a long time for anger to fester."

Benji's stomach twisted as he turned toward the door, but he forced himself to stay steady. This was inevitable, wasn't it? The world didn't just stop turning because he stepped out of it. Things had moved on, and now he had to deal with the aftermath of his choices.

He paused at the doorway, a knot forming in his throat. "And Tao?" he asked, his voice quieter, hesitant. "Where is he?"

The room fell into a brief, uncomfortable silence. Kitsune's expression darkened, and even Peacebringer seemed to hesitate before answering. "Tao took it... harder than the others."

"Harder how?" Benji pressed, his heart sinking.

"You'll see for yourself," Peacebringer replied, his gaze distant, as if remembering something painful. "But don't expect the same kid you knew."

Benji nodded slowly, his chest tightening as he walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. Tao had been like a brother to him, the one who always believed in him, no matter what. The thought of how badly he might have hurt Tao weighed on him like an anchor, pulling him down with every step.

The hallways felt longer than he remembered. Each step echoed against the sleek, metallic floors, bouncing back at him like a reminder of how empty things had become. When he'd first joined Oni, the halls had buzzed with life, with laughter, and the sound of his team's banter. Now, the silence pressed against him, suffocating.

The door to the training bay slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a wide, open space filled with sparring equipment, mats, and the faint hum of energy fields. At the far end, Daichi stood, his body shimmering with molten silver as he shaped and reshaped a mass of liquid metal into different forms—a shield, a blade, a spear. His concentration was intense, brow furrowed in focus.

On the opposite side of the room, Mira stood in a circle of light, her hands raised, tendrils of glowing energy dancing between her fingers as she manipulated the flow of light into intricate patterns. She didn't notice Benji at first, too absorbed in her practice.