As they approached the Whispering Willows Gate, the spirits accompanying them bowed in reverence to the guardians. The colossal trees swayed gently, as if acknowledging their presence. The gate opened silently, granting them passage into a realm few had ever entered.
Beyond the Whispering Willows Gate, another portal awaited, concealed by the dense foliage. Akari paused, her expression solemn. "This is the portal of Kaguyanoshi, the final threshold before the labyrinth. Once we pass through here, there is no turning back. Are you both prepared?"
Kiyomi and Hikaru exchanged determined glances. "We're ready," they said in unison.
Akari smiled faintly, and the gate before them swung open, revealing the foreboding entrance to the Fatui Labyrinth, where untold challenges and revelations awaited.
The trio stepped forward, their figures silhouetted against the mysterious portal's swirling energy. Akari led the way gracefully into the unknown. Kiyomi followed closely, her eyes filled with a mixture of anxiousness and curiosity. But it was Hikaru who cast one last glance back at the world they were leaving behind, his gaze lingering on Kiyomi. In that fleeting moment, their unspoken bond spoke volumes, a silent uneasiness possessed him as he walked through the portal.
Hikaru found himself in a desolate, nightmarish landscape. A vast battlefield stretched before him, littered with fallen soldiers, their lifeless forms stark against the bloodstained earth. Hikaru's breath caught in his throat at the horrifying scene in front of him.
Instinctively, he turned to his companions, his voice a low, urgent whisper. "Be alert," he warned, his eyes scanning the desolation. "Princess, stay close behind me."
But when he turned to look at Kiyomi and Akari, his heart sank. They were nowhere to be found. Panic surged within him as the realization struck. They had been separated.
Hikaru's eyes darted in every direction, his senses heightened as he scoured the nightmarish battlefield. His heart hammered in his chest as he grappled with the dread that threatened to consume him. Was this cruel and haunting landscape merely another facet of the Labyrinth's test? Or had something truly gone wrong?
He clenched his fists, trying to steady his nerves. It was essential to stay focused, to remember Akari's warning about the Labyrinth. Despite the anxiety that gnawed at him, he had to believe that there was a purpose to this separation.
"This is a trial. I need to stay focused... let's confirm where I am first." Hikaru thought to himself, words of caution to keep his resolve intact. With that steady thought, he pushed forward into the grim and ominous battlefield.
His footsteps were heavy as he walked. The battlefield stretched on, seemingly without end. He knew he was inside the labyrinth but couldn't discern the purpose of this haunting scene. Doubt haunted at him. What was the purpose of this nightmarish trial?
The path led him to the outskirts of the battlefield, and as he gazed ahead, he gasped. There stood the Meijin Palace, but it was not the twisted, sinister headquarters of the Umbral Court. Instead, it was the grand and regal Meijin Palace from a time long past, when the Tsukinoma Clan had ruled the kingdom.
Smoke billowed from the city in the distance, and the faint cries of citizens filled the air as they fled the kingdom. Hikaru's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of this surreal transformation. He muttered to himself, his voice tinged with confusion, "This... This can't be right. What's happening? Is this an illusion, or is it a memory of the past?"
Hikaru's mind raced as he considered the implications. If this was the past, then his old home, the place where he had grown up with his parents, should still be standing. Determination welled within him, and he quickly traversed from the battlefield into the palace grounds.
Houses burned with fiery dismay, their walls crackling and hissing as they succumbed to the relentless onslaught of flames. Families, their faces etched with terror, rushed through the narrow streets clutching whatever precious belongings they could carry. The air was thick with smoke, stinging the eyes and choking the breath.
In the midst of the chaos, royal guards lent their strong arms to aid the fleeing citizens, their voices strict as they urged people to move to safety. Children clung to their parents, eyes wide with fear, while elders leaned heavily on canes and each other. It was a scene of despair and absolute dread, a kingdom's spirit burnt into the crucible of adversity.
Hikaru spotted the familiar structure of his old home not far from the main palace. It remained untouched by the turmoil that gripped the kingdom. Without hesitation, he made his way toward it, his heart heavy with both hope and apprehension.
Hikaru pushed open the familiar wooden door, and the scent of polished wood and ancient parchment filled his senses. Everything was the same as he saw it back when. It was as if time had frozen within these walls, preserving the memory of happier days.
The interior of the house was a testament to his family's deep connection to the Meijin Dynasty. The walls were adorned with intricate designs, depicting the unmatched creativity of the former royal architect. A polished suit of armor stood proudly in one corner, a symbol of his late father's prominent loyalty. The furniture was elegantly carved, a monument to his mother's impeccable taste, reminiscing the days when both of Hikaru's parents used to argue about the placings of their decorations.
Hikaru ventured through each room, his footsteps echoing in the quiet house. The library, once filled with volumes of history and strategy, now stood in hushed reverence. His father's study, where important decisions had been made, seemed preserved in time.
But despite the familiarity of his surroundings, the absence of life weighed heavily on him. He moved with a quiet sadness, searching for any sign of his parents. Each empty room deepened the ache in his heart.
As he was about to exit, he noticed a family picture tucked beneath a silk cloth on a mantel. It was a drawing, a precious memento from a time when their world had not yet shattered. In the picture, a young Hikaru stood proudly between his parents. His father, the stoic personal guard of the king, had a reassuring hand on his shoulder, while his mother, the graceful attendant to the queen, smiled warmly beside them.
Tears welled in Hikaru's eyes as he touched the picture. His voice was a whispered lament. "Mother, Father... I wish you were here with me now."
The silence of the house offered no reply, only the weight of memories and the burden of the promise he had made to protect the last heir of the Meijin Dynasty.
Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as a group of royal guards rushed past, their armor clanking with urgency. Their voices were filled with a mixture of fear and resolution.
"They've breached the main palace! We need reinforcements!"
"Be on your guard! Those bastards are relentless!"
Hikaru left the drawing of his family behind, a lump in his throat, and hurried to catch up with the royal guards. As he entered the main palace, a scene of nightmarish chaos unfolded before his eyes. The once elegant and glorious halls, had been transformed into a bloody battleground.
Tension filled the palace deliberately and the acrid stench of magic, the sounds of clashing steel and thunderous spellcasting reverberating through the majestic corridors. Royal guards, their armor bearing the proud emblem of the Meijin Dynasty, fought valiantly against the Umbral Pursuers who had breached the palace's defenses.
Spells crackled through the air, leaving trails of vibrant colors as they collided with shields and armor. Steel clashed with steel, and cries of battle mingled with desperate pleas for reinforcements.
Hikaru's heart raced as he watched the fierce melee unfold. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, raising his sword to strike at one of the Umbral Pursuers. But to his astonishment, his blade passed through them as though they were insubstantial phantoms. The Umbral Pursuer gruesomely stabbed a Royal Guard who screamed in pain, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Hikaru's spine. He stumbled back, bewildered, as the battle raged on around him.
"What... What is this?" Hikaru muttered, his voice trembling with confusion. He tried again, swinging his sword at another assailant, only to have it pass through once more. "Am I... Dead?"
The guards fought with fierce confidence that was admirable. They shouted commands and warnings to each other, their voices tangled with urgency. But none of them seemed to notice Hikaru's presence, as though he were a mere apparition in this violent and surreal scene.
Hikaru's thoughts knotted as he struggled to make sense of the inexplicable situation. "What is the purpose of this trial…" he wondered aloud, his words drowned out by the clash of weapons. He moved through the chaos, trying to find any semblance of reality in this harrowing illusion.
Hikaru knew he had to escape the surreal battle that played out around him. With every step, the sense of unreality clung to him like a nightmare refusing to end. He hurriedly retreated from the main palace's entrance, the echoes of combat fading as he ventured deeper into the vicinity.
He climbed higher and higher, each step taking him closer to the heart of the dynasty's inner sanctum. The royal corridor before him was wide and imposing, the grandeur of the dynasty's residence obvious even in the midst of chaos.
Hikaru's breaths quickened as he scanned the corridor, his gaze darting from one end to the other. But it was empty, devoid of life. The grandeur remained, but the warmth, the essence that once filled these halls, was conspicuously absent.
Suddenly, as if materializing from the very shadows, a menacing figure appeared at the entrance of the corridor. The air grew heavy with malice as the figure's presence seemed to cast a curse over the entire palace.
Eerie crimson eyes gleamed from within the hood, like smoldering embers amidst the darkness. They wore an ensemble that exuded dark elegance and practicality—a flowing cloak crafted from a peculiar black metal material that seemed to absorb and reflect the surrounding light. Beneath the cloak, they donned a form-fitting, charcoal-colored suit adorned with intricate, silver-trimmed patterns that hinted at his affiliation with the Umbral Court.
To conceal their identity and amplify his menacing presence, the invader wore a mask that covered the lower half of his face. Its design resembled that of a demon, with sharp, angular lines that accentuated his aura of malevolence. The mask partially veiled his eyes, giving him an unsettling visage.
Hikaru's instincts screamed at him to retreat, to flee from the impending danger, but he stood his ground, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. It was as though the embodiment of a nightmare had taken form before him.
The menacing figure's voice reverberated through the corridor, dripping with venomous contempt as he hurled vile insults that felt as if they were directed solely at Hikaru.
"You pathetic remnants of a fallen dynasty," the figure spat, his words weighted with disdain. "You've had your fun enjoying all of this luxury. Now, your legacy crumbles to dust, consequences of your own arrogance."
Hikaru's aptitude kicked in, and he took a defensive stance, ready to confront this ominous interloper. Any insult towards the Meijin Dynasty, especially if it was regarding the royal lineage, is enough to boil the blood of the Shadowblade.
However, just as Hikaru prepared for the confrontation, a voice from behind him drained the haunting ambience. It was a voice he thought he would never hear again, a voice filled with a mix of authority and warmth.
Hikaru's father emerged from the inner chamber, a spectral figure in this surreal scene. An image that brought a rush of emotions to Hikaru's heart. Still, his father moved without acknowledgment of Hikaru's presence.
"Yosei," he began, His expression was grim as he addressed the intruder, "this madness must cease. We can still find a way to end this without further bloodshed."
Yosei slowly turned his masked face towards the Meijin Dynasty guard. His eyes, hidden behind the demon-like mask, gleamed with cruel amusement. "You think I've come this far to negotiate? You're nothing but a pawn, holding onto your loyalty like a drowning man clutching at straws."
Hikaru's father bristled at the insult but maintained his composure. "I've stood by my convictions, any step further and I won't hold back."
Yosei's laughter pierced the tension, echoing eerily through the corridor. "Surely you're not stupid enough to not realize the differences between us, but I shall praise the naivety."
Hikaru's father, who bore a katana infused with the spiritual essence of ice, was the first to act. With a swift and combative motion, he aggressively swung his blade, and in an instant, the corridor seemed to transform into a frigid battlefield. Frost clung to the walls, and the very air chilled.
"So that's why you were confident," Yosei mused, his voice howling with both respect and mockery. "I've finally got to test my powers against you, Shimuro 'the Frosthound' Tsukinoma!"
Yosei's dark magic surged, taking on forms that defied imagination. It became a torrent of nightmarish creatures, ethereal and yet deadly. Shadows morphed into monstrous claws, reaching hungrily for Shimuro. With each stroke of his blade, Shimuro created walls of ice, shields, and icy currents to fend off Yosei's attacks. The very air frosted around them as their powers met, an elemental showdown.
"The Meijin Dynasty will never fall under the likes of you, Yosei," Shimuro grunted between slashes of his icy katana. "It's what makes us truly formidable."
Yosei's masked visage twisted into a mocking grin. "Loyalty? How quaint, Shimuro. You're nothing but a relic of a bygone era waiting to happen."
The dark sorcerer retaliated with a rush of dark inky energy that morphed into an enormous serpent, its jaws snapped terrifyingly at Shimuro. The Frosthound responded by freezing the floor, causing the serpent to crash into icy spikes.
Hikaru watched the ferocious battle between his father and the enemy. His fingers itched to join the fight, to aid the man who had raised him. But no matter how much Hikaru desired to intervene, he was only a trivial spectator, unable to change the course of events. With gritted teeth and tear-filled eyes, Hikaru resolved to bear witness to the end of this battle.
Yosei reveled in the disparity of their powers, using it to his advantage. With an ominous gesture, he unleashed a storm of dark energy that swirled into a maelstrom around Shimuro.
Shimuro's icy barriers strained against the malevolent force, but Yosei's power was overwhelming. The spiraling darkness encircled Shimuro, constricting like a vice. His katana became heavier in his hand, and icy beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he fought to maintain control.
Yosei's mask concealed his expression, but his voice roared with animosity. "Your frosty defenses won't save you, Frosthound. Unfortunately, it won't ever stand the same as my powers."
With a final surge, Yosei's dark magic coiled around Shimuro, lifting him from the ground. Shimuro's grip on his katana weakened, and the weapon clattered to the floor. Hikaru could only watch in horror as his father was suspended in the air, helpless against the relentless onslaught of Yosei's evil force.
Desperation flickered in Shimuro's eyes, but his determination remained unbroken. "We will never give in to your wicked brutality," he affirmed through gritted teeth.
Yosei's laughter filled the corridor once more. "Then fall into eternal despair, Frosthound."
With a sinister grin hidden behind his demon-like mask, he opened his palm, and his dark magic surged forth. It coiled around Shimuro even more, ensnaring him in an unbreakable grip.
The dark sorcerer gestured his opened palm into a tight clenched fist. The dark magic coiling Shimuro, reshaped into an enormous serpent once again, its massive form writhing with calamitous energy. Its jaws widened impossibly, and with a horrifying snap, it devoured Shimuro's lower half, leaving only his upper body.
Hikaru's heart felt like it had been gripped by an icy hand, a cold and suffocating dread that left him breathless. Tears welled in his eyes, his vision blurred by the overwhelming terror that gripped him. It was as if his very soul had been shattered beyond repair, leaving a void of agony that seemed impossible to bear. In that moment, not a whisper of air could escape his constricted lungs.
Yosei stepped over Shimuro's agonized form, his dark silhouette casting an eerie shadow upon the frozen and bloody floor. As he began to move towards the inner chamber where the king resided, he couldn't help but mutter, a twisted form of respect tainting his tone, "Impressive, Frosthound, to resist my powers for that long."
But the disturbing gleam in Yosei's masked eyes soon gave way to a mocking grin. "Yet, even the strongest ice must eventually melt." With that, he continued his ignorant march towards the heart of the palace, leaving behind a gruesome tableau of torment.
Hikaru's thoughts strayed on the face of uncertainty, torn between accepting this surreal scene as a relic of the past or dismissing it as another illusion conjured by the labyrinth, a puzzle that remained beyond Hikaru's comprehension. His mind casted back in time, back to that fateful day when he had learned of his father's death. He saw it all in vivid flashes, like a reel of haunting memories playing before his eyes.
He remembered his assignment to the hidden palace, tasked with protecting the queen, his mother, and most importantly, Kiyomi, who was just a vulnerable toddler at the time. But as he arrived at the hidden palace, his heart had plummeted into a spiraling anguish. Instead of finding his mother, the queen, all he had discovered was little Kiyomi, abandoned and alone.
The memories of that day were as unforgiving. He recalled the moment he had learned of his father's death, the horrific news that had fractured his world. By the time he had heard, his father's body had already been consumed by flames alongside the fallen soldiers involved in the revolution.
Hikaru never knew the real cause that ended his late father's life. But if this grim reality was what fate has hidden him from knowing all this time, then surely it's not just a test to withstand the harsh truth but an opportunity to find what else occurred that may help his journey in the Fatui Labyrinth.
Within the crucible of his distress, a spark of resolve ignited. Hikaru knew he couldn't undo the past, but he could still honor his father's memory by fulfilling the promise he had made, by protecting Kiyomi at all costs.
With newfound determination, he ignored the dreadful scene and approached the spectral form of his late father. Tears glistened in his eyes as he spoke, "Father, I've failed you immensely… But I will be sure to redeem myself. Please watch over me as I carry out your wishes."
Hikaru, now driven by an irresistible curiosity and desire to understand the dark history that had brought them to this point, made his way to the inner royal chamber. Just as he entered, Hikaru felt a shiver of unease as he heard Yosei's voice yet again, muttering with the same cold tone when he arrived. But something was clearly odd.
There was no room, Hikaru glanced around just to see complete darkness except for what seemed like a spotlighted moment in front of him. An abnormal light casting over Yosei's silhouette behind a folding screen. As he paced himself slowly around the partition, the gruesome scene before him became painfully clear. Yosei stood over the lifeless body of the king. The once-great ruler lay sprawled on his radiant, royal bed, his regal attire stained with his own blood.
Hikaru's heart hammered in his chest as he listened to Yosei's chilling words, addressing the deceased king with an uncanny mixture of anger and betrayal. "Kamuro," Yosei spat out the name like a venomous curse, "You promised, remember? We were to govern this kingdom together. But you cast me aside, just like everyone else."
Hikaru's wide eyes remained fixated on the spine-chilling scene as he tried to make sense of Yosei's words. He knew not of the history between the two, but it was evident that Yosei harbored a deep-seated grudge against the king.
Yosei continued, his voice imbued with contempt, "You were weak, Kamuro. You were always more interested in your precious dynasty than in the power you could wield. But I... I will show you true power. I will not only create a new era under my absolute rule, but I also won't abandon the outcasts just like you did to me."
Hikaru felt his stomach churn with a mixture of horror and disbelief. This conversation felt like a window into a hidden past, revealing the motivations behind Yosei's ruthless actions. But it also sent an ominous touch crawling into his soul, for it hinted at a deeper, darker truth about the kingdom and its fall.
Yosei released his dark magic once again, morphing it into the harrowing serpent that had consumed Hikaru's father. This time, the serpentine darkness coiled around the lifeless body of King Kamuro. It was a horrifying sight, the vicious exertion of Yosei's magic slowly swallowing the once-revered ruler.
Yosei's voice, now laced with bitterness and resentment, filled the chamber as he continued his dark gesture. "You will not escape judgment, Kamuro. You do not deserve a proper burial, not after the sins you've committed."
The serpent-like manifestation tightened its grip around the king's body, causing Hikaru's stomach to swirl with a nauseous, traumatic feeling. The abnormal light above them started to flicker rapidly as the viper slithered to consume its prey. It was a grotesque display, to helplessly observe another malevolent force consuming the lifeless essence of someone important not just to Hikaru, but the kingdom itself. How can anyone endure such ruthlessness without a drop of empathy from doing such an act?
Just as the dark magic covered the king's deceased face, the light instantly burst to fill the air with blinding white blaze. Resetting the canvas to reveal, the next part of the Labyrinth.