Earth - Soaring Phoenix Fist Dojo
The rhythmic thud of fists against practice posts echoed through the dojo on Thursday night. A couple of days had passed since the intense emotional fallout of their last session, and a new, tentative normal had settled over them. Tim, stripped to his workout shirt, moved through his conditioning exercises with a focus that would have been unthinkable just weeks ago. His body, once soft and doughy, now showed some serious improvement.
"Keep up the pace, Grand Elder!" Yui called out, her voice sharp but lacking its usual sadistic edge. "Saturday's beach trip isn't an excuse to slack off tonight!"
As Tim finished his sequence, another hopeful applicant stepped into the dojo. He was a young man in his early twenties, athletic and confident—exactly the type who would normally be welcomed at any martial arts school. He approached Master Kurokawa, who was observing from his usual corner, and bowed deeply.
"Sensei, I wish to join your school. I am a black belt in Judo and wish to expand my skills."
Master Kurokawa, as he had done with every other applicant, walked forward and gently grasped the man's wrists, closing his ancient eyes in concentration. After a long moment, he released them and shook his head with an air of finality.
"Your discipline is impressive, but your path lies elsewhere. This school cannot offer you what you seek."
The young man, though visibly disappointed, accepted the judgment and departed without argument.
"He seemed even more qualified than the last guy," Himari whispered to Riku. "Our little sect is super exclusive."
"Enforcement Elder Yui only accepts students with true potential," Yui declared with a proud smirk, cracking her whip for emphasis. "Now, twenty more burpees for gossiping!"
As the group groaned and dropped to the mats, Riku's eyes narrowed with suspicion. She wasn't watching Yui; she was watching Tim and Himari with growing unease. Something had changed dramatically in the last couple of days. It wasn't just their improving physiques—though Tim's transformation from soft teacher to lean fighter was become even more rapid.
When Tim moved, the air around him seemed to hum with a faint, almost imperceptible energy. When Himari practiced a strike, there was a sharpness, a flicker of deadly intent that went far beyond simple martial arts training. Riku could tell something was off.
"They're cultivating," Riku realized, a knot of suspicion and hurt tightening in her stomach. "They found a way, i suspected Himari was a split soul, but why hasn't Tim told me he found a way."
The feeling of being left out stung more than she'd expected. After everything they'd shared—the soul-splitting, the dual lives, the growing connection between their various selves—the idea that Tim was keeping secrets felt like a betrayal.
The rest of the training session passed in a blur of exertion and forced banter about their plans for the beach on Saturday.
"So, who's bringing the snacks?" Himari asked between sets of mountain climbers, though Riku noticed there was something different about her voice—a confidence that hadn't been there before.
"As Grand Elder, Tim should be in charge of provisions," Riku teased, trying to mask her inner turmoil.
"As long as Riku doesn't try to feed them to me again," Tim retorted, earning a laugh from the others.
When training finally ended, Tim waved a tired goodbye and started down the quiet, lantern-lit street toward his apartment. He'd made it maybe twenty meters when he heard footsteps behind him.
"Why are you walking with me?" Tim asked as Riku fell into step beside him.
"Going to your apartment, obviously," Riku replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Tim's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I know you have a crush on your teacher, but this is a bit much, don't you think?" he said with a smirk.
"Oh please," Riku rolled her eyes, falling into step beside him. "Your ego is showing, old man. I'm not here for your charming personality."
"Then what's this about? You're being awfully forward for someone who usually just steals my hoodies."
"Speaking of which," Riku tugged at the gray hoodie she was currently wearing, "this one's mine now too. Consider it payment for what you're about to teach me."
Tim shook his head in amusement. "You're shameless. What makes you think I'm going to teach you anything?"
"Because," Riku said, her playful tone turning serious, "you're cultivating somehow, and you haven't told me."
"Have you noticed Himari?" Tim asked quietly, trying to change the subject. "Her progress is... unnatural. The way she moves, there's a precision there that isn't just from training."
Riku nodded, her expression serious. "I saw it too. Tonight, when she did that striking practice? The air cracked. That's not normal." She looked at Tim intently. "She's like us, isn't she? Another split soul."
"Almost certainly," Tim agreed. "And she's definitely cultivating qi somehow. Much more than me." He sighed. "I guess we just let her be. She hasn't said anything, so we shouldn't push. Everyone has to deal with this in their own way."
"You're cultivating somehow," Riku stated not letting it slide, her voice quiet but firm. "And you haven't told me." Her eyes locked onto his with laser focus. "You're going to teach me. Don't get any silly ideas, old man."
As they turned onto a more dimly lit side street that served as a shortcut to Tim's apartment complex, two rough yakuza looking men stepped out from the shadows of an alleyway. They were scruffy, predatory, and clearly looking for trouble.
"Well, well, what have we here?" the first one sneered, his gaze fixed on Riku with obvious intent. "A pretty little thing out for a walk with her dad?"
The second one chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. "She looks too old for him. Maybe he's her sugar daddy. Why don't you share the wealth, old man? The girl looks like she could use some real fun."
Tim's face went nuclear. The casual assumption that he was either Riku's father or her Sugar daddy hit every insecurity he'd been struggling with about their relationship. "Dad?! Sugar daddy?! Don't Fuck with me?" he snarled, his voice dangerously low as he stepped protectively in front of Riku. Riku felt her face redden at his protectiveness.
"Nah we are planning to fuck with her," the first thug said, cracking his knuckles and taking a step forward. "We're gonna have some fun, and you're gonna—"
He never finished the sentence. Tim, acting on pure instinct and rage, threw a punch that channeled every wisp of qi he'd painstakingly generated through the Soul Qi Bridge technique into his fist.
The impact was shocking. Instead of the sharp crack of a normal punch, there was a dull, heavy thud that seemed to resonate through the air itself. The thug's sneer vanished, replaced by a look of utter shock as he flew backward a 2 full meters, landing in a heap on the pavement, completely unconscious.
Tim stared at his own hand in amazement, feeling his qi reserves completely drained but marveling at the power he'd just unleashed.
The second thug, stunned for a moment by his partner's sudden flight, let out a roar of rage and charged, pulling a small knife from his pocket. "You bastard! I'll kill you!"
Before the man could reach Tim, a blur of motion exploded from beside him. Riku moved with the Soul Steps technique in combat for the first time.
It wasn't running or dodging—it was a series of instantaneous, impossible displacements. She flashed six centimeters to the left, then eight forward, then ten diagonally. To the charging thug, she simply vanished and reappeared around him like a ghost, a target he couldn't track or predict.
"What the—"
A foot connected with the back of his knee from an impossible angle, buckling his leg. He staggered, turning to strike, but Riku was already gone, reappearing behind him with another string of soul steps. She delivered a sharp, precise chop soul step punch to his temple knocking him out cold.
Tim and Riku stood in the silent street, breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through their veins. They looked at the two unconscious men, then at each other an impressed look.
"Let's go. Now," Riku insisted, her voice shaking with adrenaline as she grabbed Tim's arm and pulled him down the street. "Your place. You're teaching me everything."
They practically jogged the rest of the way to his apartment. The moment Tim closed and locked his door, Riku turned on him, her eyes blazing with determination.
"That punch," she said, her voice trembling slightly from leftover adrenaline. "That was a lot of qi for earth. I felt it. I saw what it did." She stepped closer, invading his personal space. "You have to teach me how you did that. Now. No more waiting, no more secrets."
Seeing her urgency and feeling the lingering rush from the fight, Tim nodded, his own heart still pounding. "Alright," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "Okay."
Tim poured them both glasses of water, the silence stretching between them. Riku sat on his couch, arms crossed, waiting with the patience of someone who wasn't going anywhere until she got answers.
"You're right," Tim finally admitted, collapsing into the armchair opposite her. "I found a way."
He explained about the "Soul Qi Bridge" symbol he'd discovered buried in the soul cultivation manual's appendix. He told her about the abysmal 100-to-1 conversion rate that made it completely useless in the cultivation world, and how he'd been secretly testing it on himself for days.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Riku asked, her voice softer now, the accusation replaced by genuine hurt.
"Because Varek's ahead of Lia," Tim said with a sigh. "I just wanted to be the one with the power and protection in this world."
Riku's expression softened slightly, understanding flickering in her eyes. "You wanted to be the strong one here," she said quietly. "Instead of always being the one who needs rescuing."
"Something like that," Tim admitted, running a hand through his hair. "In the cultivation world, you're the confident warrior saving the day while I'm..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "Well, the one getting rescued. I guess I wanted to flip that script for once."
"You idiot," Riku said, but her tone was fond rather than angry. "We're supposed to be a team. In both worlds." She stood up and moved to the center of his living room. "Now stop being a baby and teach me."
Tim guided her through the process, describing the complex interlocking spirals that had to be maintained in perfect mental balance. Riku sat cross-legged on his floor, her eyes closed in intense concentration. The technique was far more difficult than the grounding symbol or the Soul Steps—it required a level of mental precision that was physically exhausting.
For nearly an hour, she struggled, her brow furrowed in frustration.
"I can't get the spirals to lock," she muttered, sweat beading on her forehead despite the cool apartment air.
"Focus on the feeling, not just the image," Tim advised, remembering his own struggles. "Feel your soul energy feeding into the conversion process. It's like... like threading a needle while riding a roller coaster."
Riku snorted at the analogy but took a deep breath and tried again. This time, something clicked. The symbol stabilized in her mind with an almost audible snap, and she gasped as she felt it—the same sensation Tim had described. A tiny, warm trickle of pure qi flowing into her Earth body's dantian for the very first time.
Her eyes snapped open, wide with amazement and exhilaration. "I feel it," she breathed, placing a hand over her dantian where the new energy pooled. "It's actually real."
She looked at Tim, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across her face. "Well, sensei," she said, her usual teasing tone returning with renewed confidence. "Looks like now we're both going to be dangerous."
Tim couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah," he said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I guess we are."
Riku leaned back against his couch, still maintaining the Soul Qi Bridge symbol with obvious effort. "So what's next? Do we tell Himari we know she's like us?"
"Maybe," Tim said thoughtfully. "But let's see how Saturday goes first. The beach trip might give us a better read of who she is as a person."
"Speaking of which," Riku said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "I should probably head home and pick out a bikini. Something that will make you blush like Varek would in seeing Lia in a bikini."
Tim's face smirked with a hint of red. "Riku!"
"What?" she said innocently, standing up and stretching. "You said you wanted to be the powerful one in this world. Well, let's see how much self-control that power gives you."
As she headed toward the door, somehow wearing a another one of his hoodie's, Tim called after her. "You know that's mine, right?"
"Not anymore," she called back with a laugh. "Consider it your claim on me. You have to back it up though."
Tim's face went even redder at the bold statement. "Riku, what are you—"
"See you tomorrow, sensei," she said with a wink, slipping out the door before he could finish his protest.
Tim stood alone in his apartment, staring at the closed door with a mixture of exasperation and something he wasn't quite ready to name. The hoodie comment had been pure Riku—pushing boundaries while maintaining just enough plausible deniability to keep him off balance.
"A claim on her," he muttered, shaking his head. "That girl is going to be the death of me."
But as he cleaned up the water glasses and prepared for bed, Tim couldn't shake the memory of how she'd looked when the Soul Qi Bridge technique finally clicked—the wonder in her eyes, the excitement, the way she'd said they were going to be dangerous together.
The beach trip was definitely going to be interesting. What will she look like in a bikini he began to wonder.
Meanwhile, Riku walked home through the quiet streets, Tim's oversized hoodie wrapped around her like a security blanket. The tiny trickle of qi flowing through her Earth body was intoxicating—a constant reminder that she was a cultivator on earth too.
Earth - Industrial District, 3:47 AM
The abandoned warehouse reeked of rust and decay, its broken windows casting jagged shadows across the concrete floor. In the center of the cavernous space, a circle of strange symbols had been carved into the ground—not with any earthly tool, but with fingernails that had been sharpened.
Derek Morrison knelt beside his latest victim, a homeless man whose disappearance would go unnoticed by a world that had already forgotten him. The body was pale, drained, with strange puncture wounds along the major arteries that formed a pattern.
"Finally," Derek whispered "After so many failures, I can feel it working."
Derek had never been what anyone would call a good person. Even before the meteor shower split his soul, he'd been the kind of man who took what he wanted without caring about the consequences. A career criminal, a predator who'd spent years hurting people for money, for pleasure, for the simple thrill of having power over the weak.
The meteor fragment hadn't made him evil—it had just given his existing darkness new tools to work with.
His other body existed in the cultivation world as Vex Spiritbane, a demonic cultivator who had died during a failed demonic technique. When Derek's split soul found that corpse, the memories and techniques came with it. Forbidden arts, blood cultivation methods, ways to steal power that defied every moral boundary.
"The qi here is so thin," he muttered, running blood-stained fingers along the carved symbols. "But human life force... yes, that can be concentrated. Refined. Made useful."
The technique he was using—Soul Leech Feeding—was considered abhorrent even in the cultivation world. But Derek had never cared about what others considered acceptable. If killing gave him power, then he'd kill. If stealing spiritual energy made him stronger, then he'd steal.
Derek stood, feeling the stolen life energy swirling within his body. It wasn't much—maybe equivalent to a few hours of proper cultivation—but it was a start. Death didnt make an amazing cultivating tool, but with enough victims, enough carefully harvested life force, he could begin building real power in this qi-starved world.
But individual kills were too slow, too limited. From Vex's memories, he knew of something far more ambitious—the Crimson Harvest Formation. A massive demonic array that could drain the life force from an entire city, channeling millions of deaths into a single cultivator.
Derek pulled out a tablet, studying satellite images of the city he'd downloaded. The formation would require five anchor points arranged in a specific pattern across the urban area. Each outer anchor needed to be powered by ten corpses, with the central location in the park requiring ten as well.
"Fifty people total," he calculated with cold precision. "To drain a million."
The beauty of the formation was its exponential growth. Once activated with enough initial corpses, it would begin drawing life force from everything within its boundaries. The more it consumed, the faster it would spread, until the entire greater metropolitan area and more became a dead wasteland with Derek at its center, gorged on the stolen life force of millions.
He traced his finger across the map, marking optimal locations. Four abandoned buildings at the cardinal points where he could work undisturbed, and the central park where the homeless camps would provide perfect cover for the final ten victims.
"It will take weeks to prepare," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "But once the formation is complete..."
Derek had been careful to target only society's forgotten—the homeless, the addicts, those whose disappearances would be attributed to the harsh realities of street life rather than supernatural predation. The authorities barely investigated when such people vanished.
As he left the warehouse, Derek was already planning his next kill. The first anchor point would require ten bodies, and he had work to do.
The city had no idea that its destruction had already begun with a single homeless man's death in an abandoned warehouse. By the time anyone realized what was happening, it would be far too late to stop the harvest.
A million lives to fuel one man's cultivation in a qi dead world.