It had been four hours since Nero left. Four long hours of Saya pacing, fidgeting, and trying to figure out a way out of the tent. She'd tried everything—tugging at the fabric, looking for hidden seams, even trying to hack at the poles with her sword. Nothing worked. It was as if the tent was made of something tougher than any material she'd seen before.
She was about to give up and sit down when the curtain appeared again, fluttering into place from thin air like it had a mind of its own. Saya's heart leaped. Freedom!
Without thinking, she charged toward it, hands outstretched. The curtain opened right as she got there, sending her tumbling forward. She landed face-first in the dirt outside with a heavy thud.
"Ugh…" Saya groaned, lying flat on the ground. Her entire body ached.
"Well, that was unexpected." A woman's voice, soft but firm, echoed above her.
"Huh?" Saya pushed herself up, blinking as she looked toward the source. A woman stood nearby, her posture relaxed yet somehow imposing. She had dark blue hair that was tied back, her hakama swishing as she shifted her weight. Large pieces of armor adorned her upper body, and slung across her back was a massive sword—easily larger than Saya had ever seen up close.
The woman grinned down at her. "I figured you needed some fresh air after being cooped up in there for so long, but I didn't expect you to come flying out." She chuckled softly, clearly amused.
"Uh… who are you?" Saya mumbled, still sitting on the ground, too bewildered to move.
"Oh, right. I'm Sumyrr," the woman said casually, as though this wasn't a strange meeting at all. She extended her hand to help Saya up.
Saya blinked, still processing the situation. She awkwardly took Sumyrr's hand and stood, dusting herself off. "I'm Saya," she replied, more out of habit than anything else.
Sumyrr's eyes landed on the katana in Saya's left hand. "Wow, is that yours? It's beautiful," she said, her voice filled with admiration.
Saya glanced at the sword in her grip. 'Wait, didn't I drop this back in the tent?'
"Yeah, it's mine," she said, though her mind was elsewhere. The sword had always been special—her grandfather's most prized possession. How had it ended up here with her? She hadn't remembered taking it.
"Can I see it?" Sumyrr asked, stepping closer, her curiosity evident.
"Sure." Saya carefully unsheathed the katana, holding it out for Sumyrr to see. The blade shimmered, its surface nearly translucent, with an ethereal green sheen. Tiny, intricate markings ran along the length of the blade—ancient runes, though Saya couldn't read them.
"Grandpa always said it would make sense one day," Saya whispered to herself, feeling the weight of the sword in her hand. For a moment, she could almost feel her grandfather's presence beside her.
Then, something shifted. As Saya looked at her reflection in the sword, she noticed something odd. Her eyes were glowing, a faint but unmistakable green light shining from within them. A sudden rush of clarity flooded her mind.
It was like a fog had lifted, and for the first time, Saya saw the world around her in perfect detail. She could hear the faintest sound of water rushing somewhere in the distance, the crunch of footsteps in the dirt, the soft crackle of a fire far off. The world seemed to move slower, more deliberately.
And then she heard it—a strange, high-pitched hum, growing louder by the second. It was getting closer, fast.
"Wait, what—?" Saya started to say, her instincts suddenly kicking in. She leapt back into the tent.
**BOOM.**
The ground shook violently as an explosion erupted just outside the tent, sending flames and debris flying in all directions. Saya stumbled back, heart racing, but the tent itself remained untouched. Not even a tear in the fabric. The curtain, however, wasn't as lucky—it had been reduced to a charred mess.
Saya stepped out of the tent, and her blood ran cold. The battlefield that had been eerily quiet before was now engulfed in chaos. Smoke rose in thick columns, and the remains of what had been nearby structures lay scattered around like broken toys.
"Sa...ya..." a faint voice called out from beneath a pile of rubble.
Saya's head snapped toward the sound. "Sumyrr!" she shouted, rushing toward the pile. Sumyrr was trapped, her arm barely visible under the debris. Saya grabbed the edge of a broken beam and tried to lift it, straining with everything she had.
**BANG.**
A sharp, cracking sound echoed through the air. Saya froze, barely dodging as a bullet tore through the rubble near her, kicking up dust and stone. Her eyes widened.
"Was that… a gunshot?" she thought, confused. Guns didn't belong in this world, did they?
**BANG.**
Another shot, this time closer. Saya dropped the beam and dove behind a wooden crate just as the bullet slammed into the ground where she had been standing. Her mind raced. Where was the shooter?
Peeking out from behind the crate, she spotted the assailant—a woman dressed head to toe in black, her figure sleek and agile. She held a strange weapon in her hands, something between a crossbow and a shotgun. Saya's heart pounded in her chest.
"What the hell is going on?" she muttered to herself, her pulse quickening.
BANG. Another shot chipped away at the crate she hid behind, sending splinters flying.
"I've got to get Sumyrr out of here," Saya thought, gritting her teeth. But how? The shooter had the advantage, and there was no way she could close the distance fast enough without getting shot.
As she pondered her next move, a sharp sound sliced through the air. Saya barely had time to react before a spear came hurtling toward her. She drew her sword halfway, instinctively blocking the spear with the blade.
"What the…?" She struggled as the spear's owner, a man dressed in a dark shinobi-like outfit, bore down on her, trying to push her to the ground.
"I'm not dying here!" Saya shouted, adrenaline surging through her veins. She pushed back with all her strength, sending the man stumbling backward.
"Come on," she growled, unsheathing her sword fully. The katana gleamed in the dim light, its green glow more vivid than ever. The man regained his footing, twirling the spear in his hands as he assumed a wide stance.
Saya took her own stance, knees bent slightly, sword held loosely in her right hand. Her posture wasn't perfect, but it felt natural—like she had been born to fight this way.
The man narrowed his eyes, studying her.
Saya smiled, her lips curling into a feral grin. Her eyes glowed brighter, their green light cutting through the smoke.
"Well… this is happening," she whispered, her voice low and dangerous.