The chamber was dim, lit only by the eerie glow of the lava that pulsed beneath the glass floor. Shadows slithered across the onyx walls of Gimori's Demon Tower, as if alive, whispering in tongues lost to time. Perched on his throne of obsidian and bone, Gimori, the Tyrant of the Ninth Continent, sat with one leg crossed over the other.
His long, tangled black hair draped over his face like a curtain of darkness, hiding all but the crooked grin he always wore. Across from him stood Levine, his cloak singed from his last mission, the Flame Blade now strapped across his back. He stood motionless, awaiting his master's words.
The silence between them was thick—until Gimori finally stirred.
"You've done well, Levine," he rasped. "I expected you to decimate the resistance, but I did not expect you to retrieve the Flame Blade… intact."
Levine nodded once. "It was no challenge. Xzavier tried, but he was weaker than he believed."
Gimori chuckled darkly, then slowly raised his hand to his face. With a clawed finger, he brushed away a curtain of his hair, revealing a piercing light blue eye glowing with unnatural intensity—an Aku no Eye.
The air in the room seemed to twist, temperature dropping sharply as the eye's energy surged through the chamber.
"You see this?" Gimori whispered. "The original Aku no Eye. The prototype of despair. You… have earned the right to see it."
Levine's own eyes narrowed slightly. "And?"
"And…" Gimori stood slowly, letting his long coat sweep the ground like a funeral veil. He reached to his belt and grabbed something—a sealed jar filled with swirling black smoke. Inside floated another Aku no Eye, slightly smaller, but still radiating immense power.
With no ceremony, Gimori tossed the jar at Levine.
Levine caught it, staring into it with something akin to hunger.
"Your reward," Gimori said coldly. "Take it. Become what you were meant to be."
Without hesitation, Levine pulled the lid free, and with a swift, practiced movement, he pressed the eye into his right socket. A burst of dark lightning snapped through the chamber. His body convulsed for a second before his breathing calmed.
When he looked up, his right eye now shimmered with that same cursed light blue glow—an active Aku no Eye.
Gimori grinned wider. "Now… you're more than just my right hand. You're my legacy."
Levine smirked. "Then let me finish what Xzavier couldn't."
Gimori's shadow lengthened unnaturally. "You'll get your chance. Soon."
---
Days Later – Sarutobi Academy Training Yard
The grass was wet with morning dew. Birds chirped somewhere distant, and the academy was unusually quiet—most students still sleeping off the previous night's celebration.
Xzavier sat cross-legged under the large meditation tree, his eyes closed, breath steady. Across from him sat Sensei Gara, legs folded, posture upright like a statue. For hours they had remained silent, meditating in sync.
But now, the sun was beginning to rise higher, and Gara finally opened his eyes.
"That's enough," he said, standing with a calm but firm presence. "You've improved. Your soul is more centered."
Xzavier inhaled deeply, exhaled slower, then opened his own eyes. His left was now the regular dull grey—but his right, where the Sacred Eye had once lived, remained hollow and scarred.
Sensei Gara studied him for a moment. "You've lost much, Xzavier. But not everything is gone."
He turned, motioning with a single finger. "Come with me."
---
They walked in silence through the back corridors of the academy, winding through old stone hallways untouched by time. Eventually, they reached Gara's private chamber—simple and sparse. Gara knelt by his bed and slowly pulled it aside. From beneath the floorboards, he retrieved a dusty, rune-sealed jar.
He placed it on the table between them and removed the lid. Inside floated an eye—vibrant Yellow, it's iris swirling with slow, lightning-like pulses.
Xzavier leaned in. "What is it?"
"This," Gara said, "is a Sacred Eye. Forged centuries ago by a forgotten clan who sought to mimic the gods. It was said to grant the wielder mastery over both time and spirit—allowing them to manipulate perception, momentum, and even glimpse beyond this plane."
Xzavier looked stunned. "Why… are you giving this to me?"
"Because," Gara said quietly, "Well you saved the princess and got roughed up in the process, I think that deserves a little reward."
Xzavier looked down at the jar, the glow of the eye reflecting in his hollow socket. He didn't hesitate. Not anymore. He reached into the jar, removed the eye, and inserted it into his right eye socket.
For a moment, nothing.
Then his body seized, convulsing with raw energy. Yellow electricity crackled around him. Gara watched, unfazed, as Xzavier cried out, clutching his face. Images—of the past, future, and things he couldn't comprehend—flooded his mind.
Then stillness.
Xzavier slowly stood, breath heavy, the yellow iris glowing softly in his right eye. He could feel it—the threads of fate, the shifting pace of energy, the way his body moved differently now.
Gara smiled faintly. "You are whole again."
Xzavier looked up, a new fire in his gaze.
"No…" he said. "I'm something else now."