The Superior Rebirth: A Hero's Awakening

A Thunder Yet to Roar

May 30th, 1810 — The Shōryūden Palace, Tokyo, Grand Empire of Japan

A few days had passed since Xavier awakened from his long slumber.

This time, the scene opened within the grand throne room of Shōryūden Palace. The chamber was vast and immaculate, lined with towering pillars carved from dark lacquered wood and veined marble. Elite samurai stood guard along the walls—warriors trained from birth, silent and unmoving, their presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier. They were the finest of the finest, blades resting at their waists, discipline etched into their very posture.

The room's splendor was overwhelming. Gold-threaded banners draped from the ceiling, crystalline lanterns bathed the hall in a warm, celestial glow, and the polished floors reflected everything like still water. It was the kind of beauty no commoner could ever fully imagine—an elegance bordering on the divine.

Upon the elevated dais sat two figures.

Emperor Masamune Yamato. Empress Yorihime Yamato.

The sovereign King and Queen of the Grand Imperial Empire of Japan—revered across the human realm.

Before them knelt their youngest daughter.

Misaki Yamato.

Her head remained lowered in perfect reverence, long crimson-pink strands framing her face as they brushed against the polished floor. She did not dare lift her gaze toward the two most powerful figures in her life.

"Misaki," Emperor Masamune's voice echoed through the chamber—deep, composed, and commanding. "You must be wondering why I have called you here so suddenly."

"Yes, Father," Misaki replied calmly, though her voice carried the faintest trace of tension. Her head remained lowered.

"Well," the Emperor continued, "to make things clear—I have not summoned you to scold or punish you for sneaking out without our knowledge."

Misaki's shoulders subtly eased.

For weeks, she had carried that anxiety like a blade pressed against her back. She knew how strict her family was—how order and honor meant everything within the Yamato household. She had expected reprimand... perhaps even worse.

But hearing those words, the invisible weight that had been suffocating her chest slowly began to lift.

"In fact," Emperor Masamune said, a gentler tone entering his voice, "your mother and I are proud of you for doing so. We all are. Though I cannot deny—we were worried."

Empress Yorihime covered her mouth lightly, smiling as she added in a teasing tone, "Especially Erika. She could not stop watching the orb sphere linked to the katana she gifted you. Every single day. Without fail."

Misaki's eyes widened in shock, though her head remained lowered.

Elder Sister... worried for me?

The thought felt almost absurd.

Erika was strength incarnate. Unshaken. Unreadable. A being who seemed sculpted from steel rather than flesh. Emotion was not something she displayed.

There's no way... Misaki thought. That isn't like her at all.

"She kept checking it," her mother continued warmly. "Waiting to see if it would glow—if you were ever in true danger. Which, thankfully, it did not."

A faint silence settled.

"It was both thrilling and nerve-racking to witness," Yorihime added with a soft laugh. "Seeing Erika show even the slightest trace of emotion is a rare event."