After the two of them entered the shadow portal, they emerged in a warehouse whose walls were plastered with hero posters. The figure led Azure to see something there, taking him to an underground room. There, they saw a black hero costume with the symbol "N" emblazoned on the chest.

  "This... isn't this a hero's costume?" he asked.

  "Yes, it is indeed a hero's costume, because I was once a hero," the figure stated.

  Azure was shocked—why would a hero want to help him? The figure explained that he had left the Federation after discovering the organization's vile intent, which prioritized money over the lives of citizens. That was why he, too, despised the Heroic Federation, seeing them as nothing more than a brand, much like Azure did. In truth, he wanted to fight the Federation, but he was now too old and lacked sufficient evidence to expose them to the people of Asterion City.

  "Why do you wear a mask?" Azure asked, his tone curious.

  "Alright, you might be a little surprised, but I will remove my mask."

  The figure removed his mask, revealing a woman with long, jet-black hair tied in a bun. Her most striking feature was her eyes—a silvery gray, like mist under a full moon, with a faint glint of purple light, matching the tip of her staff. She appeared to be around thirty-five years old. Azure was astonished that the hero who had frightened Hodr was a woman.

  "My name is Nox," she said, simply. "And you, Azure, have drawn quite a lot of attention for someone who is supposed to be 'invisible.'"

  Azure frowned. "You've been watching me. Since when?"

  "Since your shadow energy first pulsed, like a newly beating heart, in that warehouse months ago," Nox replied, walking slowly along the tunnel, signaling for Azure to follow.

  They turned into a more spacious room. It had clearly been converted into a living quarters. Shelves made of reclaimed wood, a simple bed in the corner, a small fireplace radiating warmth (no smoke, perhaps magical or with hidden ventilation), and a long table covered with ancient maps, modified electronic devices, and bottles containing strange liquids.

  "This is one of our observation posts," Nox explained, placing her staff on a rack. "We are 'The Unseen.' Some call us an underground movement, rebels, or just a bunch of crazies afraid of the light."

  "And what do you call yourselves?" Azure asked, his eyes sweeping the room, noting every detail.

  "Realists," Nox answered with a faint, thin smile. "We see the world as it is, not as the Federation paints it on their megascreens. And we believe the elemental balance has been disrupted. Light, Fire—all those 'honorable' elements are pushed to the point of destruction. They suppress elements like Shadow, Poison, even certain aspects of Earth and Ice that aren't 'pretty' enough for display. The result is increasingly powerful monsters, energy instability, and a society living in controlled fear."

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  Azure fell silent, processing. This echoed his own suspicions. "You have shadow power too."

  Nox nodded. She raised a hand, and with no visible effort, the shadow in the corner of the room crawled upward, forming a miniature replica of Asterion City complete with its towers. Then, with a finger gesture, the shadows in a specific 'district' darkened, spreading, swallowing the holographic light towers. "Shadow is not just for hiding, Azure. It is a balance. It is the space between light. Without shadow, light would blind and burn. Without shadow, there is no depth, no secrecy, no rest. The Federation wants a world perpetually bright, a stage without intermission. That is unnatural, and ultimately, it will collapse."

  She let the shadow replica collapse back into an ordinary pool. "You have potential. But what you were doing in that warehouse… it was like a child swinging a sharp sword. You would have hurt yourself, or attracted attention that would have destroyed you—as nearly happened earlier."

  "So you're offering to train me?" Azure asked, getting straight to the point. His heart raced with a mix of hope and suspicion.

  "I am offering you a choice," said Nox, sitting on a wooden bench, looking at him seriously. "You can go back upstairs. I will erase Hodr's memory of you my way, and you can try to live a normal life again, hiding your power forever. Or…" she paused, "you stay here. You learn. Not just to control shadow, but to understand elemental politics, the true history of the Federation, the city's underground network. You will learn to become a precise blade, not a wild hammer. The goal is not to become another 'hero,' but to become an undeniable truth. To expose the rot until the Federation can no longer hide it."

  Azure didn't need to think twice. Memories of his father, the black folder, the false light on the screens—all flooded his mind. A normal life? That was a joke. He had passed that point the moment he decided to read that folder.

  "I choose to stay. To learn."

  Nox nodded, as if she had expected it. "Good. First rule: forget everything you think you know about your power. You are not a Null. The Federation's measuring tools are primitive and biased. They only look for spectacular energy vibrations—explosions of fire, waves of water. Shadow vibrates at a different frequency, deeper, quieter. That's why they missed you."

  It felt like a mountain's weight lifting from Azure's shoulders. He wasn't defective. He was just different.

  "Second rule," Nox continued, her voice firm. "Anger is good fuel, but bad fuel for a long journey. It burns fast and leaves ashes. You must find another source. Discipline. Focus. A purpose greater than personal revenge. Do you understand?"

  Azure nodded, though in his heart he knew it would be difficult. Anger had been his companion for years.

  "Good. We will begin tomorrow. For tonight, rest." Nox pointed to the bed in the corner. "That is for you. I will keep watch."

  "And Hodr? The Federation?" Azure asked.

  "Let that be my concern for now," said Nox, and there was a finality in her tone that made Azure ask no more.

  That night, Azure's sleep was deep and dreamless for the first time in a long while. He felt, perhaps for the first time, that he was where he was supposed to be.\

  (To be continued)