Yuma laid in his bed, his breath humming silently, his long pink hair falling over his eyes. Yuma found himself standing on the edge of a cliff, the wind howling past him, carrying the cold bite of war. But as he looked down, he realized it wasn't just any cliff. He stood atop Heaven's Wall, the impenetrable fortress separating the world from the higher realms of the Infinite Sea. The wall stretched endlessly in both directions, high above the clouds, its towering, smooth surface gleaming under a blood-red sky.
The horizon below was filled with chaos—armies clashing, ships burning on the seas, and explosions shaking the land. It was a vision of war unlike anything he had ever seen. Yuma's heart pounded, but it wasn't fear that gripped him—it was the heavy weight of inevitability.
In the distance, he could see banners of different factions rising and falling, some of them familiar. The alliance he had built with Moon, Cani, Boombox, and Ika was there, locked in brutal combat against forces from the World Government, Demon Lords, and other unknown armies. Fire raged across the battlefield, smoke curling toward the sky, staining it darker with each passing second.
"Is this…" Yuma's hands were clenched into fists, and he could feel the cold stone of Heaven's Wall beneath his feet. He looked down at his own reflection on the surface of the wall—his hair was longer, messier, and there were two horns jutting from his head. The entire left side of his face was covered in a large burn scar. He was not the man he once was, and the weight of the transformation sank deeper into his chest.
"Is this where it all ends?" Yuma muttered to himself, his voice lost in the wind but heard clearly in his own ears.
The ground rumbled beneath him as the armies below surged forward, colliding with a deafening roar. In the center of the battlefield, he saw a figure—one that resembled him, standing alone, facing the destruction as if ready to take it all on by himself. This Yuma had broken horns, his hair fringed and burnt shorter, his stance defiant. With an amputated left arm and maniacal smile. The vision shocked him—an alternate version of himself. A reminder of what he once was, perhaps, or what he was about to become.
Yuma felt the air crackle around him, thick with anticipation. A sense of impending doom pressed down on him, as if the war below was only the beginning, and something far worse was lurking just beyond the horizon. His gaze swept over the chaos, and he knew, deep down, that this war would be the catalyst for everything—alliances would shatter, friends would fall, and the world itself might not survive.
Then, a voice broke through the noise, soft and sweet yet commanding. The voice felt recognizable, but he didn't know from where.
"This is the path you've chosen, Yuma. Are you ready for the cost?" Yuma whipped around to see the source of the voice, but there was nothing behind him. Just the endless stretch of Heaven's Wall and the blood-red sky. His mind raced, and his chest tightened. He knew the cost. He'd felt the weight of it every step of the way—losing the Golden King, watching his friends suffer, knowing the line between right and wrong had blurred long ago.
But this… this was different. This was war on a scale he had never envisioned.
Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet began to crumble. The sky seemed to shatter like glass, the ground crumbling and floating into the sky. The stone of Heaven's Wall splintered, breaking apart into massive chunks that fell away into the endless abyss below. Yuma tried to hold his ground, but the wall shattered too quickly. Before he could react, he plummeted, the wind screaming in his ears as the battlefield rushed up to meet him.
Just as he was about to collide with the earth, Yuma jolted awake, drenched in sweat. His heart was racing, his breath uneven. The hotel room was quiet, the only sound was the soft murmur of the ocean outside. The dream clung to him, a vision of the future that felt all too real.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair. The sense of impending war lingered in the back of his mind, gnawing at him.
"We're closer than I thought," he muttered to himself, staring out at the dark sky beyond the window. Heaven's Wall, the looming battle, the cost of everything—it was coming. And when it did, Yuma knew there would be no turning back.