The dojo was silent, the air heavy with anticipation.
The morning sun streamed through the wooden windows, casting long shadows over the polished floorboards.
Standing in the center of the room, three identical figures held wooden bokken at the ready.
Three Neros.
The original stood at the forefront, his grip firm, his stance balanced.
The two clones mirrored him perfectly, their gazes unwavering as they faced the two men before them, Zen and Mu, the only warriors who had ever walked the razor-thin path between Void and Cosmos and survived.
Nero took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, lowering his head slightly in respect.
"Mu-sensei, Zen-sensei, thank you for instructing me in Magic Martial Integration.
Back then, I refused to learn the sword, believing my time was better spent finding a way to solve my issue with the Void Principle, hence immersing myself into Eastern culture and books.
I wanted to try to find a way to walk a slightly different way from you."
He lifted his gaze, eyes sharp with conviction.
"But, I have now reached a point where I have developed what I believe will be the solution to my predicament.
I also believe that the best way to attune myself to Void isn't through theory crafting anymore.
It's through walking a similar road you once did.
If I am to master what lies beyond magic, beyond thought itself, I must start where you started.
I must train as you trained."
The two clones beside him moved in perfect synchrony, taking a step forward.
Then, with precision and respect, they each bowed deeply.
"Mu-sensei, please teach me the kata that supported you to channel Muga," the clone on the left requested, his voice steady.
"Zen-sensei, please teach me the kata that supported you to channel Muso," the clone on the right followed, his tone filled with the same unwavering resolve.
Mu and Zen exchanged glances. There was no hesitation, no need for words.
A knowing smile flickered between them.
They had seen countless students attempt the sword, many who sought to wield power but lacked foundation, conviction and a true purpose.
But standing before them was a student unlike any other.
Zen smirked, rolling his shoulders as he cracked his neck. "Alright, kid. Be ready. This isn't going to be some light exercise.
Your path may be one of the wand, but if you want to walk the path of a peerless warrior, no matter how ephemeral, you better be prepared for it."
Mu gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. "Muga and Muso are not techniques to be learned, they are states of being. If you wish to attain them, you must experience them.
To wield the sword without hesitation, and to see without limitation. Are you ready for that?"
Nero's grip on his bokken tightened, his pulse steady. He gave a single nod. "More than ever."
Zen moved first.
Without a word, he shifted his stance and brought his bokken up with casual ease, yet there was nothing casual about his presence.
The moment his fingers curled around the hilt, the air shifted.
A crushing weight settled over the room.
Muso.
Nero's breath hitched for a fraction of a second.
It was like being caught in an invisible web, as though the space itself was bending to Zen's will.
Every part of him, his muscles, his instincts, his very sense of movement, felt restricted.
As if the instant he acted, Zen would already have the counter prepared.
The clone assigned to Zen hesitated for less than a second before exhaling sharply, grounding his feet.
He adjusted his grip, readying himself.
"That's right," Zen murmured, his smirk widening. "You feel it, don't you?
The moment you step into this stance, you command the battlefield.
You don't just fight your opponent, you erase any possibility of their victory before they even raise their blade."
Without warning, he moved.
The wooden blade snapped forward, a blur of motion so fast that even Nero barely tracked it.
The clone responded instinctively, raising his bokken to block, but the second he did, Zen's blade was already at his throat.
A perfectly calculated strike.
The clone froze. A clean, unavoidable defeat.
Zen pulled back, his smirk never fading. "Muso isn't necessarily about being faster.
It's about seeing everything, predicting everything, and being so utterly dominant that your opponent realizes their fate before you even strike.
If you want to master it, you better prepare yourself."
Nero's clone lowered his bokken slightly, his eyes gleaming. "Understood, sensei. I'll engrain it into my bones."
Zen's grin widened. "Good. Then let's begin. Follow my movements"
On the other side of the dojo, Mu had barely moved, standing as still as a statue.
His gaze locked onto the other Nero clone, his stance completely relaxed.
"Strike me," Mu said simply.
The clone hesitated. "Sensei?"
Mu didn't repeat himself.
Taking that as permission, the clone adjusted his grip and stepped forward, his blade flashing in a controlled arc.
Only to slice through empty air.
Mu was already behind him.
Nero's eyes widened. There had been no movement, no shift in stance, just absence.
One moment Mu was there, the next he simply wasn't.
Muga.
Before the clone could process it, Mu's bokken tapped gently against his back.
"Muga is not a technique," Mu said softly. "It is the absence of thought, the absence of self.
In this state, you do not predict your enemy. You do not react.
You simply move, existing beyond the concept of hesitation.
The mind does not slow you. It does not interfere. You and the blade become one."
The clone took a steady breath and exhaled.
No self. No hesitation. Only movement.
Mu stepped back, studying him. "Again. And this time… Do not think."
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The morning sun continued to rise, its golden light flooding the dojo.
The sounds of bokken clashing, of movements being drilled to perfection, filled the air.
The real Nero, while meditating, felt both of his clones absorbing everything they could from Mu and Zen.
On one side: Total awareness. Absolute control. Peerless dominance.
On the other side: Pure instinct. Flowing motion. Absence of hesitation.
Muso and Muga.
Two opposing concepts.
Two paths to transcendence.
And as Nero's grip tightened around his own bokken, he couldn't help but smile.
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