Everything is too quiet.
The scroll glowed last night. Not a bright light—just a breath of warmth, like a whisper down my spine. It etched a phrase along the Folded Edge diagram:
"Field is stable. User is not."
Cool cool cool.
My chakra has been humming since. Not loud. Just consistent. Like a kettle that won't boil but refuses to cool.
Today's mission isn't listed in any scroll. Genma handed us a scrap of paper with four words:
Test. Field. Movement. Feedback.
We meet just outside the second training range. The grass is low. The earth is cracked from old battle drills. There's a collapsed tree on the north end that's been snapped in the middle so cleanly it looks like someone used a jutsu scythe.
I press my foot into the dirt.
It presses back.
Perfect.
Takkun's stretching like he's about to run laps for fun. Damu's adjusting a shinobi harness he doesn't need, mumbling something about balancing his "internal oxygen fields."
"You know that's not a thing, right?" I ask.
Damu doesn't look up. "We said the same about singing rice, and now look at chakra foam technology."
Takkun frowns. "What?"
Genma appears behind us like a ghost who gets paid per scare. His shadow hits the group before his voice does.
"Training formation two. Real pressure. Not staged. Don't aim to win. Aim to learn."
"Define 'real pressure,'" I mutter.
"Means I'm watching."
Oh. Great.
We line up at the edge of the cracked earth. Genma tosses three kunai into the middle of the zone, forming a rough triangle.
"Inside the triangle is unstable terrain," he says. "Marked by a dormant pressure field. Raika, you're going to try activating Folded Edge inside it. Takkun and Damu, your job is to stay in it while she does."
"What if it goes sideways?" Damu asks.
"It will," Genma replies.
I breathe deep.
Chakra inward. Coil it behind the diaphragm. Let it slide down the arms, under the ribs, through the hips.
Crack. Pull. Hold.
Then—
Fold.
The pulse moves like breath through glass.
The triangle ripples.
The dirt shivers.
And Takkun immediately trips.
"AH—why does the sky feel sideways?!" he yells.
Damu manages better. He leans into the fold. Knees bent, hands lowered, absorbing the sagging gravity like he's surfing.
"Stable," he calls. "Mostly."
I hold the field for three seconds, but something's wrong.
It's too easy.
The chakra isn't fighting back. It's agreeing with me.
Then I realize—
It's not my chakra I'm using.
I drop the fold instantly.
The earth recoils like a stretched cloth snapped loose.
Takkun flies back five feet.
Damu lands in a pile of grass and groans.
Genma steps forward, kneels, and presses his palm into the ground.
"Someone else harmonized this space already," he mutters.
"Not me?" I ask.
He shakes his head.
"You folded a pre-folded pressure zone. You didn't create— you amplified."
We run it again. I try folding from a different edge. Less control this time. The field pulses outward, unstable.
Damu stumbles but catches himself.
Takkun drops into a stance and rides the imbalance like a drunk duck dodging a jutsu blast.
"You good?" I shout.
"I was born sideways!" he cackles.
I don't hold the fold past four seconds.
The feedback is brutal.
It kicks up my pulse, cracks my shoulder joints, sends a wave of cold down my spine.
When I collapse the field, Genma doesn't speak for a long moment.
Then:
"You're rushing it."
"I'm not, actually. I'm syncing with terrain the way you told me."
He tosses me a scroll.
Unlabeled.
I open it.
It's a pressure map. Old. Not Konoha official. No Hokage mark. No origin tag.
But the markings… they match my Folded Edge pattern.
I stare at him.
"You're not the first one to find this," he says.
I sit down. Legs crossed. Scroll across my lap.
"Who was?"
He walks away.
That night, my scroll adds a note:
Pressure Fold is not terrain-only. It remembers people, too.
Enjoying Raika's journey? Drop a power stone, leave a comment, or whisper a review. 💎
Every bit of support keeps the Void walking forward.
— void_chakra