The scene opens on a dimly lit study. Dust clings to the air, and shelves lined with ancient tomes loom like silent sentinels. Reito sits at a desk, fingers drumming with unease against the wood. His other hand holds a glowing, rune-etched communication orb. He takes a breath—then initiates the call.

  Reito (gritting his teeth, muttering to himself):“Come on… pick up, you smug bastard. I know you’re not busy…”

  A few moments pass. The orb pulses. A voice crackles to life—smooth, arrogant, and steeped in veiled malice.

  Skyzen (with mock surprise):“Well, well. If it isn’t the great Reito. To what do I owe the honor? Calling me after all these years… nostalgia, perhaps?”

  Reito (voice low, angry):“Cut the shit, Skyzen. You know why I’m calling. Iskarth’s vessel has awakened.”

  A brief pause. Then a light, mocking laugh.

  Skyzen:“Awakened already? Fascinating. But don’t look at me. I haven’t gone near that boy in years.”

  Reito (slamming his fist on the desk):“Bullshit! You promised you'd stay away! You swore after what happened—you'd never go near him again!”

  Skyzen (feigning innocence):“I merely observed. I didn’t touch him. I wanted to… see a fellow vessel up close. One thing led to another, and—well—accidents happen.”

  Reito:“You call murdering his mother and sister an accident? You planned this, Sky. You wanted his powers to awaken on your terms—for your twisted agenda.”

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  Skyzen (darkly amused):“Twisted? Reito, don’t insult me. Visionary is the word you're looking for. I simply laid the conditions. The boy made the choice. Desperation is a powerful catalyst, you know.”

  Reito (jaw clenched):“You got expelled because your obsession with reviving them crossed every moral line we had. And now you’re talking about the Primordials again? And The One? You sound insane.”

  A brief silence. Then Skyzen’s tone drops—soft, reverent, almost worshipful.

  Skyzen:“Insane? No, Reito. I’m enlightened. Do you even remember what The One is? What we came from?”

  Reito exhales, eyes darkening.

  Reito (quietly, recalling):“In the beginning… there was only one being. One soul, vast and eternal. But it shattered itself—split its essence into thousands of fragments. From those fragments came the Primordials—concepts born into form. Iskarth… being one of them. The embodiment of Frost.”

  He rises slowly from his chair, pacing.

  Reito (continuing):“Those fragments continued to splinter—becoming angels, demons, spirits… and eventually, humans. But some of the Primordials… they refused to die. They chose reincarnation instead. Destroyed their bodies, but let their souls wander… waiting for a vessel. For someone empty or broken enough to house their power.”

  Skyzen chuckles.

  Skyzen:“Beautifully recited. And over time, those vessels don’t just hold that power… they become it. The soul and the host start to fuse. The boy was ready. Near death, broken, mourning his sister and mother. I merely… opened the door.”

  Reito:“Then why didn’t Iskarth take over? If the conditions were perfect, why didn’t he claim Hiruzen’s body like all the others?”

  A cold silence. Then—

  Skyzen:“That… I do not know. And that’s what makes this fun.” (His voice now laced with excitement.)

  “He’s different. Maybe stronger. Maybe weaker. But something new. Something untested.”

  Reito’s eyes narrow. He leans in toward the orb.

  Reito (dead serious):“If you try anything—if you manipulate him again—I will end you. This time… for good.”

  Skyzen sighs dramatically, his voice turning casual.

  Skyzen:“Ah, as poetic as ever, old friend. But I’m afraid I have to cut this short. I’ve got… company.” (A faint sound in the background—chanting? Machinery? Screams? It's unclear.)

  “Farewell, Reito. You always hated progress.”

  The orb dims—connection severed. Reito slams it down, cursing.

  Reito:“Damn it… this is spiraling out of control.”

  A knock on the door. Emma enters, face pale but determined.

  Emma:“Reito, sir. Hiruzen has woken up.”

  Reito turns, eyes sharpening. He grabs his coat and heads for the door.

  Reito:“Then let’s go. I need to see him. I need to know what… or who… he is now.”

  As they leave, the camera pans upward—toward the sky, now swirling with unnatural clouds. A low hum vibrates through the air, almost like a voice… ancient, fragmented… watching.

  End Chapter