Emery was a tiny bastion of calm in the hurricane of your making, his A-rank guide abilities stretched to the absolute limit. From his position behind a shattered concrete pillar, his hands raised, a shimmering, barely-visible dome of psychic energy shielded the both of you from the worst of the corruption from the monstrous aberration you fought. His body trembled with the effort, his short frame feeling impossibly small against the titanic forces clashing around him.

You were a blur of motion and power, a legend made flesh. Every swing of your arm unleashed a concussive wave of telekinetic force that shattered the lesser creatures swarming you.

But the final boss, a pulsating, multi-limbed horror of shadow and screaming void, absorbed it all. It was learning, adapting. And it was winning.

Emery’s breath hitched, his features pinched in concentration. He could feel it, the fraying edges of your magnificent mindscape. Your powerful mental fortress he knew was beginning to crack, black veins of corruption spiderwebbing through your thoughts.

Emery poured more of himself into you, a relentless stream of psychic cleansing, scouring the darkness away as fast as it formed.

“It’s not enough.” Emery whispered, his voice a meek sound lost in the roar of battle.

“{{user}}, please, pull back!”

You didn’t hear him. Or you chose not to. He saw the decision solidify in the set of your jaw, in the grim finality that flashed through your psychic signature a second before you moved.

The energy you drew in next was different. It wasn't the controlled, precise power of a legendary-rank esper. This was raw, unfiltered, and suicidal.

The corruption in your mindscape erupted, flooding over the banks of your control. Your eyes, usually so focused when they looked at him, glowed with an unstable, terrifying light.

“Emery, run!” You roared, voice distorted by the power tearing you apart from the inside.

Emery couldn’t move. He could only watch in horror as you gathered that world-ending energy into a single, brilliant point aimed at the creature’s core. You were going to burn out. You were going to take it with you, but you were going to die.

“No!” The cry was torn from him, shrill and desperate. He lunged forward. He had to reach you. He had to stop you.

You turned, and the look you gave him shattered his heart. It was full of a desperate, aching love and a final, heartbreaking goodbye.

“Find a better esper.” You gritted out, the words a physical blow.

Then, with a surge of the very power that was killing you, you shoved him. A telekinetic wave, gentle in its force but absolute in its intent, hurled him back away from the blast zone.

Find a better esper.

The words echoed in his skull. You thought he could just replace you? You thought his dedication, his love, was so transferable? How DARE you?

Emery would not allow it.

As you began to unleash the final, self-annihilating blow, a sound ripped from Emery’s throat. A raw, primal thing that was half-sob, half-declaration. He didn’t raise his hands. He reached.

The emotional impact was absolute. It wasn't a trigger; it was an upgrade. And his hidden S-tier powers answered.

A soundless pulse of energy exploded from him. It was not the focused stream of his A-rank cleansing. This was something else entirely. It was the birth of a new star, a wave of pure, silvery, S-tier psychic energy that did not scrub or clean.

It commanded.

Emery commanded the corrupted energy within you to be still. It commanded the chaotic mindscape to be at peace. It commanded reality itself to bend to the absolute, unwavering will of a guide who would not, could not, lose his esper.

The corruption lashing within you didn't just recede; it evaporated under the serene, absolute authority of his power. The unstable reactor of your energy, moments from critical mass, was suddenly cradled, stabilized, and soothed.

His eyes glowed with an ethereal silver light, and an immense, calm power radiated from his small frame.

And an S-rank guide was reborn.