Lena.
Just Lena.
The moment Simon Felix heard that name, goosebumps prickled up his arms. It was strange how a single memory could still have that effect, how something buried so far in the past could claw its way back to the surface with such raw clarity.
Back then, Simon had been just a boy.
A boy with dreams, someone who aspired to be something great. He'd walked the halls of the training facility with his chin high, his chest puffed out.
And then she arrived.
A small girl, younger than anyone else in the program—hell, she couldn't have even been ten years old. Yet from the moment she set foot in that place, everything shifted. The other trainees, boys and girls twice her size, glanced at her as though sensing something in the air that they couldn't explain.
No, not the air.
The balance itself had changed.
Simon could still picture her perfectly—standing there in the middle of the room, her posture unnervingly straight, her face devoid of emotion. Those cold, unblinking eyes had fixed on him, staring through him like he didn't matter.
And it was then that Simon had realized, with a certainty that shook him to his core—
He was no longer the boss of that facility.
And now, the warrior—Lena—stood before him once again, over a decade and a half later.
Simon's breath hitched.
She was surrounded, his soldiers forming a circle around her. Their guns were raised, fingers hovering over the triggers, the barrels trembling ever so slightly.
Simon didn't blame them.
The lobby was a wreck—smoke swirled through the air in suffocating clouds, shards of broken glass glittered on the floor, and splintered concrete jutted out from the earth like broken teeth. What little remained of the overhead lights flickered erratically, casting the space in half-light, half-shadow.
Lena stood in the center of it all, her body low, her blade steady despite the gashes on her arms and soot smeared across her face.
Simon stared at her and something twisted deep in his gut.
No one should look like that.
Not when they were surrounded. Not when they were staggered and outmanned, with nowhere to run.
And yet, Lena's gaze was cold.
Don't underestimate her.
He thought the words over and over again.
But that look in her eyes, that same look she'd had all those years ago, was impossible to ignore. Here she was, surrounded by his men, reduced to a vulnerable position on the floor of a ruined lobby.
And yet…
Why does it feel like I'm the one at a disadvantage?
He shook the thought off, glaring hard to steady himself.
How unfair.
That word again. It always came back to that.
Lena, the warrior who embodied perfection. Her existence was one of privilege. It was etched into her blood, carved into her bones, and refined to an art in the vessel of her body. The gift of natural strength beyond reckoning. Speed beyond comprehension. Endurance beyond the reach of human limits.
How does one contend with someone born as perfection incarnate?
The answer was simple. You don't.
Not as you are.
And so, Simon had improvised.
Years. He had clawed his way through the bowels of Obsidian, facing squad after squad of monsters who scoffed at his humanity. They'd called him expendable, tossed him aside, and dragged him back into the furnace of blood and steel. He worked. He trained. He bled. He crawled his way all the way from Obsidian's third division for this.
It was all for this moment.
Yaotl Mk.3.
His perfect creation. The suit hummed with energy as Simon adjusted the output, servos singing. This was proof. Proof that humanity, fragile and feeble as it may be, could rise to challenge the monsters who prowled this planet.
Simon's grip tightened around his sword, the servos hissing with amplified force. A warrior forged from nothing.
Lena stood before him. She didn't move.
Simon surged forward, Yaotl roaring as it carried him, the blade raised high to unleash a blow that could tear through stone and steel. The air cracked, the force of his charge shaking the ground beneath him.
But then, Lena moved.
The space she once occupied turned to emptiness, her body no longer there. In the same instant, she was in front of him. Before Simon's brain could grasp the shift, his blade met resistance―Lena's sword.
The clash of metal screamed through the air, sparks bursting into a fleeting galaxy between them.
Simon's eyes widened.
Lena held firm, her sword locked against his. She parried it cleanly. As if it were nothing.
Simon: ――――!
With a grunt, he shoved forward, the servos of Yaotl grinding as they forced his weight against her.
Lena shoved back.
Calm. Unshaken. Those unsettling eyes never wavering, even as Simon pushed harder, his teeth grinding in frustration.
Simon: You're still―!
She vanished.
Simon blinked. The sudden absence was disorienting, his brain scrambling to process what his eyes refused to accept.
Then came the sharp tug at his back.
Simon: ―Tch!
He whirled around, his sword cutting through empty air. Gone again.
Simon: You―!
Desperation gripped him as he spun again, armored boots shrieking against shattered stone. His senses strained, searching for her.
And then he saw her.
Dancing.
She wasn't moving.
She was dancing.
Lena wasn't even trying.
A single soldier staggered, his gun slipping from his grasp as his body hit the ground. Another screamed―a shrill, fleeting sound―as her sword carved through his armor, the spray of blood casting thin crimson arcs through the air.
Simon's head snapped around.
Simon: Focus on her! Don't stop shooting!
But the order was meaningless.
Lena moved.
No, she cut through them.
Another fell. And another. The gunfire faltered.
A soldier screamed as Lena vaulted over him, her blade cutting a clean line across his chest. Another turned to flee―only to meet her, sword already piercing his stomach.
Simon's chest heaved, the rage within him bubbling over. The suit hummed as he overclocked the systems.
Simon: Enough!
With a sharp hiss, Simon's gauntlet snapped open, releasing a compartment at his wrist. A small device shot into his palm, a compact sphere, its surface pulsing with faint blue light.
He hurled the device at her, the sphere splitting apart mid-flight into a whirlwind of fragments.
CRACK!
The air warped as electric arcs burst outward, a net of searing blue energy expanding toward Lena. Sparks hissed and screeched as the cage of light closed in around her, targeting her movement, matching her speed.
BOOM.
The shockwave exploded outward―a violent surge of power. The ground trembled. The air cracked. Fractured stone and glass erupted in all directions as the building groaned in protest.
The blast caught her mid-dash. Her body was thrown back, smashing through the remains of a half-collapsed pillar. The force carried her into the side of a crumbling building, the wall crumbling in a storm of dust and debris that swallowed her whole.
Simon staggered, his armor hissing as it recalibrated, steam pouring from the vents. Sweat trickled down his brow as silence fell, broken only by the hesitant footsteps of his soldiers.
Simon: Close in. Now.
Their weapons raised, the soldiers advanced cautiously. Simon followed, his boots crunching over the shattered glass and stone.
Simon: She's not invincible. She's not a monster. Do not be afraid! Advance!
He said it aloud. To himself, or to them, he wasn't sure. But even as he spoke, the thought felt wrong.
The stillness, the quiet, it was wrong.
Simon slowed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the wreckage. He searched for any trace of her, but the smoke obscured everything. His soldiers piled on top of the rubble, preparing to dig through in search of Lena's body.
Then he saw it.
A faint glow.
Simon: ――――!
Before he could react, the building erupted.
A shockwave of fire and smoke burst from the wreckage, a crimson hurricane that tore through the soldiers like ragdolls. Screams echoed, bodies flung aside, weapons scattered as the flames consumed everything in their wake.
Simon stumbled back, raising an armored arm to shield his face. Heat scorched the air. The sound of fire, of destruction, roared in his ears.
And then―
She emerged.
From the inferno, Lena stepped forward. Her silhouette wreathed in smoke and ash, her blonde hair streaked with soot, fluttering like a banner of war.
She was smiling.
Simon froze.
That smile, it was not triumphant.
Not cocky.
Not smug.
A memory of the earlier encounter when Lena had gotten behind him, the brief tug he had dismissed in the heat of battle.
His eyes widened in shock.
Simon: No... it can't be...
His hand shot to the back of his armor, fingers fumbling over the now-empty clasp where it had been secured.
The Tezcatlipoca
A compact, advanced directed-energy weapon designed to unleash concentrated electromagnetic pulses. When activated, it emitted a high-energy pulse capable of ionizing the surrounding air, creating a plasma channel. Through this channel, an electromagnetic pulse could travel with dispersion, delivering devastating energy to the target area.
The result: instantaneous combustion of materials, structural disintegration, and electronic systems rendered inoperative. His trump card, the pride of Yaotl. A weapon that could only be used once. A weapon that had taken years to develop, and…
She used it against us.
His mind raced, piecing together the sequence of events, the shockwave, the flames, the utter devastation that had befallen his unit. How had she known about the weapon. How could she have moved this well against Yaotl in the first place? No human, no soldier should have been able to do all this. It was as if Lena herself was…
Lena: Well then…
She rolled her shoulders, that unsettling smirk widening as she tilted her head to meet Simon's gaze.
Lena: Do you care to begin?
Simon's breath hitched. Rage coiled in his chest, a futile attempt to smother the chill running through him.
Simon: Monster.
Her expression did not change.
Those eyes fixed on him with an intensity that set his heart pounding.
The Yaotl came to life, the servos straining as he lifted his blade once again.
Lena tilted her head.
Lena: After you, then.
And so, the vice captain's duel began.
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Grace sat on the weathered park bench, her small legs dangling, unable to reach the ground. The world around her was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, but the warmth of the sun did little to touch her. Her brown eyes softened as they fixed on the scene in front of her.
A boy, just a little boy, sat high on his mother's shoulders. He smiled, his laughter ringing out. The mother's hands clutched his legs tightly, her laughter joining his. Together, they painted a picture of something whole.
For a long moment, Grace stared.
Her fingers curled into the hem of her skirt, and without realizing it, her body rose to move.
Step by step, her small form carried her forward. She didn't know why she moved, nor what she would do when she reached them. But something inside her stretched. Her arms felt heavy, her chest tight, yet she moved anyway.
Closer.
And then, she stopped.
A figure blocked her path. Arms crossed, posture unyielding, Kazuki stood before her.
The old man's dark eyes peered down at Grace. His stance wasn't threatening, but it was resolute.
Grace blinked, her teeth gritting as anger bubbled up.
Grace: Move.
Kazuki didn't flinch.
Grace: Move, old man!
Kazuki: What'll you do when you get there?
Grace froze. Her breath hitched as the question pierced through her chest. What would she do? She didn't know. Her lips parted, but no words came.
The silence felt heavier than any response could have.
Kazuki: If you don't know, there's no reason to go right?
His voice carried no mockery, no cruelty. Just a simple truth. But it made Grace's frustration increase. She clenched her fists, her face twisting as she took a step forward.
Grace: I don't care! Just move already!
She shoved him—small hands striking against an immovable wall. Kazuki's outstretched hand met her attempt, firm but gentle, halting her advance again.
Grace: Move! I hate you! I hate you! You ruin everything!
Her voice rose in pitch, her chest heaving as tears welled in her eyes.
Grace: I hate this life! I hate traveling with you! I wish you'd never come!
Kazuki didn't move. He didn't speak. He stood there, quiet and immovable, as Grace screamed every bitter word, every jagged fragment of her heart.
Grace: Move out of the way!
Her voice cracked.
Her sobs broke free.
Kazuki sighed. A long, quiet sound that seemed to absorb everything around them.
And then, he moved.
Grace stepped back instinctively as Kazuki approached her, his hand lowering to his side. Her body tensed, her Astral ability flaring to life as she prepared to fight. The air crackled, her anger demanding an outlet.
But Kazuki didn't stop.
Closer.
And then—
He wrapped his arms around her.
Grace's body went still.
The tension vanished, as though the strings holding her together had snapped all at once.
Grace: ――――.
Her voice faltered into silence as she felt Kazuki's arms hold her tight.
She broke.
Her sobs echoed through the empty park. Her tears fell freely as her small hands clutched at Kazuki's coat, as though she were trying to hold herself together.
And through it all, Kazuki held her.
Kazuki: Your soul says something different, little miss.
His voice was low. Soft. Understanding.
Kazuki: You don't have to hold it anymore. All that weight, all those feelings—just let them go.
He stroked her hair as she sobbed, his movements slow and gentle. Grace didn't know how long she cried. Time seemed to stretch, the world outside fading until it was just them.
Kazuki: The past, the things you've done, the person you were... all of that is gone now. What matters is what comes after.
Grace shuddered against him. She could hear the words, but they felt distant, muffled by the weight in her chest.
Kazuki: When you let those feelings go, they don't come back. Just like the things you love that are lost forever, the parts of you that you hated can disappear too.
Kazuki's arms tightened slightly, grounding her.
Kazuki: So cry, Grace. Let it out. Let it all disappear. And when you're done, we'll walk forward. Together.
Her sobs slowed. Her breathing steadied, though tears still trickled down her face. She looked up just in time to see the mother and son disappear from view, their silhouettes fading into the golden light of the setting sun.
She couldn't reach them.
She never could.
And yet, held in Kazuki's embrace, Grace felt something shift. The edges of her pain blurred, just a little.
Kazuki: Together, we'll go forward, free of all that pain.
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Grace tilted her head upward, her eyes fixed on Kazuki. His breathing had steadied, the color returning to his face, though the strain still lingered in his posture. Thanks to her ability, Beta Reversion, she had halted Kazuki's bleeding, as well as return the strength, stamina, and energy he had lost during the battle against Orion.
Grace: 'All we can do now is see how far he can reach…'
Her words, soft and quiet, hung in the air as though seeking confirmation from the silence.
Kazuki rolled his shoulders, the motion casual, dismissive.
However, before he could utter a single word, a sharp fist collided with his skull.
Kazuki: —Ghuh!
Kazuki stumbled, the blow sending him sprawling to the ground. His head spun from the impact as he groaned, one hand reflexively rubbing his jaw. Squinting up at Grace with a mixture of irritation and confusion, he muttered:
Kazuki: What are you—?
Grace: What am I thinking?
She stood over him, her shoulders trembling as her clenched fists hung rigidly at her sides.
Grace: How could you even think of leaving that kid to die?
Kazuki's brow furrowed, the sting of her words cutting deeper than the pain in his jaw.
Grace: Thomas came all this way for us—for you! And you'd just abandon him?
Her voice cracked, though she pressed on, her frustration spilling out in jagged, uneven waves.
Grace: If you want to leave the past behind, fine! Go ahead and do it! But don't expect me to follow you if all you're going to do is pile up regrets!
Her fists unclenched as her arms fell limply to her sides.
Grace: …If I can keep moving forward, then I will. But I won't leave everything else behind. If I'm in the present, I'd like to minimize my suffering for the future. That's at least a little fair I think.
Her gaze lifted again, fierce and unyielding, and she took a step closer to him.
Grace: If I have to drag your sorry ass with me, Kazuki, then so be it. But we're going, sir, you understand?
For a moment, Kazuki said nothing, his expression unreadable. He rubbed his jaw again, the ache fading as he stood, his gaze never leaving hers.
Then, he laughed.
It was low and soft, the kind of laugh that could almost be mistaken for bitterness.
Kazuki: Guess I've got more to learn from the youth too, huh.
Grace blinked, her anger momentarily giving way to confusion.
Grace: What the hell does that mean?
Kazuki: Don't worry about it little miss.
With that, he waved her off, the smirk on his face betraying none of the thoughts that lingered behind it.
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Now, the present struck with an intense blow.
Kazuki stood before Orion, his sword blazing with vermillion flames that roared and twisted like a living soul. The air shimmered with heat, the flames crackling as they danced across the blade.
At his feet lay Thomas, his body battered and bruised.
Kazuki had arrived just in time, the arc of Orion's blade inches away from delivering a fatal blow.
Orion sneered as he pressed against Kazuki's blade with his own.
Orion: Why the hell would ya step in now? That brat didn't even leave a scratch on me.
The sneer on his lips deepened as he cocked his head.
Orion: Tch. Comin' in now instead of waiting it out is an amateur move. If you'd waited for a sneak attack, maybe it'd've been worth somethin'.
Kazuki didn't flinch. His sword still burned bright, the vermillion flames flickering in the air between them.
Kazuki: That's another thing I guess this youth'll have to teach you.
He paused, tilting his head slightly as though reconsidering.
Kazuki: Nah… Grace would probably be better at teaching you that.
Orion froze for a moment, blinking as if the words themselves were incomprehensible. Then, he scowled.
Orion: The hell's that supposed to mean? I haven't got a damn clue what yer runnin' your mouth about.
Orion: Not that it matters. You can ramble all you want, I'll just tune those senile thoughts out. I'm tired of this.
Without waiting for a response, Orion raised his katana high. The blade pulsed, the air around it distorting violently as he swung it down.
The ground beneath them shattered, the force of the strike creating a crater that sent shockwaves through the battlefield once again.
Kazuki's feet slid dangerously close to the crater's edge, the sheer power of the blow threatening to swallow him whole. But despair couldn't take hold.
The flames on his sword burned brighter. His movements grew sharper, his reactions more precise.
As Orion's blade tore through the ground again, Kazuki's body shifted instinctively, narrowly dodging the attack. He leapt back, unscathed, his blade poised as the dust began to settle.
Even with just one arm, Kazuki's prowess with his blade was impressive.
Orion lunged forward, his speed blinding. The air cracked with his approach, his katana aimed directly at Kazuki's chest.
But just as the blade seemed poised to strike, Kazuki's form shimmered—and vanished.
Orion's eyes widened, his momentum carrying him forward as he realized too late what had happened.
A sharp voice cut in.
Grace: Alpha Reversion!
She stepped forward, her staff in hand. Its surface flickered and glowed, shifting rapidly between different forms—spear, shield, knife—until it settled into a massive wooden battleaxe.
The weapon appeared light as she hoisted it over her shoulder.
Alpha Reversion.
It was a technique Grace had poured years into mastering, a painstaking process born from trial, error, and determination to perfect what seemed impossible. On the surface, the astral ability, reversion, appeared straightforward: the power to reverse an object or person to a state from the past. Yet, the complexity behind it was staggering, and the limits it imposed were far from trivial.
Ordinarily, the range of a normal reversion was confined to a mere five minutes. She could restore any object or person within her contract back to a position from five minutes earlier or less. Anything beyond that threshold was untouchable. But she had refused to let those limits define her.
Five minutes wasn't enough.
Grace had known that if she were to rely on such an ability in battle, those constraints would render it almost meaningless. Rewinding time was powerful, yes—but only if it could be used flexibly, without restrictions.
And so, she devised a method. A way to defy the inherent limitations of reversion.
By activating the technique on an object and "storing" its position, Grace discovered she could hold that state indefinitely. That stored position would then serve as a checkpoint, allowing her to revert the object to that precise state as many times as she desired, so long as Alpha Reversion remained active.
But even this innovation wasn't without its cost.
The ability's scope was limited to a single target. Only one object or person could be affected at a time. To make the most of this restriction, Grace had turned her ingenuity toward the staff she carried.
Carefully, she carved the staff's form into a variety of shapes, each designed with a specific purpose in mind: a spear for piercing, a hammer for crushing, a blade for slashing, and countless others. After carving each form, she applied Alpha Reversion to them, locking those forms into memory.
With her preparations complete, Grace could now shift the staff into any of its stored forms at will, regardless of how long ago the state had been saved.
Of course, maintaining Alpha Reversion required intense focus, the kind that could falter under the strain of battle.
Yet Grace wouldn't waver. She couldn't afford to.
Orion clicked his tongue, his lips curling into a snarl.
Orion: What, ya think ya can handle me better than that senile Japanese bug?
Grace gritted her teeth, her hands tightening around the shaft of her battleaxe as she charged forward. The sound of her axe cutting through the air was a thunderous roar.
Orion met her strikes head-on, his katana weaving a deadly dance against the weight of her weapon. For a moment, Grace thought she saw hesitation in his movements, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Her attacks had forced him to recalibrate, to take her more seriously than he had expected.
But surprise alone wasn't enough.
I can't let this drag out...
Orion clicked his tongue, an irritated sneer cutting across his face.
Orion: Tch. I'm so tired of this shit. Stop wasting time so I can go home ya maggot.
His eyes shifted. The bright irises seemed to deepen, turning into twin voids of grey, as if the light around him was devoured into their depths. His katana pulsed with shadows.
Grace's breath caught in her throat. The aura pressed against her chest, a force that made her instinctively raise her axe in preparation for his counterattack. But before she could swing, a horrifying realization clawed its way into her mind.
Her arms—she couldn't lift them.
The axe slipped from her grasp, crashing to the ground with a deafening clang. Her arms hung uselessly at her sides, as though the very weight of the air around her had become unbearable. Panic surged through her veins, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she struggled against the invisible force binding her.
What is this.
Orion blurred into motion. His figure vanished from Grace's view in an instant, replaced only by a sharp crack of air as he blitzed toward her. His katana, cloaked in shadow, aimed directly for her heart with supersonic precision. The sheer speed of his advance left no time for thought, no room for escape.
Grace could only watch as the end hurtled toward her—until a sudden force shoved her sideways, knocking her off balance. The world spun for a heartbeat before she hit the ground hard, her gaze snapping to the side to see Kazuki, his katana once again intercepting Orion's strike.
The clash of their weapons shook the air, the flames of Kazuki's sword flaring wildly as they collided with the shadows. The ground beneath them cracked, the shockwave rippling outward as the two forces ground against each other.
Orion: Tch, why do ya have to keep butting in? Yer just making this longer for everyone.
Kazuki didn't answer. His blade moved like liquid fire, parrying Orion's katana. The clashechoed across the battlefield, drowning out Orion's complaints.
Kazuki turned his head slightly, his voice cutting through the chaos with an almost casual confidence.
Kazuki: Little miss, keep your head up.
Grace blinked, startled by the calm in his tone.
Kazuki's katana flared brighter as it met another swing, the shadows curling back under the sheer force of his flames.
Kazuki: This man's astral ability comes from that weapon of his. That's where his astral is anyway. His astral draws it's energy from guilt. His katana feeds on it, thrives on the very concept. The more you feel it, the stronger he becomes. At least that's as simply as I can explain it.
Grace's chest tightened as she processed his words.
Guilt.
Kazuki's tone softened, though his movements remained sharp.
Kazuki: So, if guilt is what fuels him.
His blade countered another of Orion's strikes, knocking him slightly off balance.
Kazuki: Look forward to the celebration we'll have after we slay this lousy man. Lift that big head up little miss!
Grace's breath hitched. She stared at Kazuki, her eyes wide, unable to look away from the fluidity of his movements, the way his blazing katana seemed to defy the shadows themselves.
Orion's katana pulsed with darker energy, the shadows twisting and lashing outward like living tendrils. They lashed toward Kazuki, snapping at him with vicious intent. But Kazuki's flames burned brighter still, the vermillion glow consuming the shadows as he cut through them again.
Grace felt her heart pound. She had known Kazuki was strong—but this strong? It was almost incomprehensible. He fought like a man who had no intention of losing, no matter the cost.
Her mind reeled, and Kazuki's earlier words echoed in her ears. Guilt fueled Orion's power. If that was true, then she couldn't let herself be consumed by it anymore. Feeling herself lighten she absolved herself of the guilt.
The guilt from burdening Kazuki… Thomas… Thomas!
Her thoughts snapped into focus, and she turned abruptly, her heart sinking as she realized she had completely forgotten about him. The boy who had risked his life—where was he?
Grace scrambled over the rubble, her eyes scanning the battlefield until she saw him. Thomas stood in the distance, barely holding himself upright as he leaned on his sword. His breathing was ragged, his bloodied face twisted in pain. One leg was bent at an awkward angle, and his swollen features made it clear just how much he had endured.
She reached his side, her hands trembling as she gripped his shoulders.
Grace: Are you alright? What the hell is wrong with you? You didn't have to go this far for us.
Thomas looked up at her, his lips parting to speak, but all that came out was a choked, bloodied rasp. His swollen mouth struggled to form words, but he forced them out anyway.
Thomas: I… I need… to fight…
Grace: Fight?! You can barely stand! You're gonna stay—
She stopped short as Thomas pushed past her. His movements were sluggish, his body swaying, but he refused to stop. He limped forward, his determination written on every bloodied inch of his face.
Grace: The hell are you doing? You can't—
Another explosion rocked the battlefield, cutting her off mid-sentence. The ground trembled violently, a blast of wind and debris kicking up from where Kazuki and Orion clashed. The shockwave hit with the force of a battering ram, knocking Grace and Thomas off their feet.
Grace hit the ground hard, the air knocked from her lungs as dust and rubble rained down around her. She coughed, struggling to push herself up, her ears ringing from the blast.
Through the haze of dust, she saw Kazuki and Orion still locked in combat, their blades blazing with opposing energies. The intensity of their strikes sent tremors through the earth, and the flames and shadows seemed to consume everything around them.
She turned to Thomas, who was also sprawled on the ground, struggling to get back up. His hand still clutched his sword, and despite the pain etched across his face, there was no hesitation in his eyes.
Why… why does he want to kill himself so badly?
Her thoughts were a whirlwind, but she couldn't think for long. Another crash from the battlefield sent a fresh wave of dust and wind barreling toward them, forcing her to shield her eyes.
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Kazuki's hands tightened around the hilt of his katana. The flicker of the fire seemed to embody the fiery soul of the man it drew power from.
Across from him, Orion stood still, his katana cloaked in the hungry, writhing shadows that pulsed.
Kazuki raised his sword, flames crackling as he summoned every ounce of energy he could muster. The blazing vermillion bird seemed to cry out with him as his shout rang across the battlefield.
Their blades collided.
The impact sent pure energy rippling outward, the ground beneath them trembling violently. Sparks of fire and tendrils of shadow burst into the air, clashing and dancing together like warring spirits.
Kazuki strained, his muscles screaming as he held against Orion's strikes.
Kazuki: Is that all? Kakaka! Your output's dropping. Out of fuel or somethin'?
Orion's smirk widened, his voice low and taunting.
Orion: No guilt? You've gotta be kidding me.
He leaned forward, his blade pressing harder against Kazuki's.
Orion: Look around. This battlefield reeks of it. Hell… yer drowning in it.
Kazuki's expression faltered for a split second.
Orion: You think I can't feel it? That weight ya carry? Grace almost died back there, and whose fault is that? She wouldn't even be here if ya hadn't dragged her along. She wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for ya.
The words hit harder than the blade, and Kazuki's footing wavered. His flames flickered, the energy of the vermillion bird trembling under the weight of his mounting guilt.
Orion seized the moment.
Orion: Let me show ya what true guilt feels like!
The smirk on Orion's face widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as he pressed his advantage.
He swung his katana in a brutal arc, the force of the strike slamming into Kazuki's guard and sending him skidding across the cracked rooftop.
Orion: When that little maggot of a boy gave you the chance… ya should've taken it. Cut yer losses, y'know?
He surged forward, his shadows trailing behind him like venomous stingers.
Orion: Running would've made this fast for me and for ya. Maybe you and the girl maggot could've lived a few more days. Maybe.
With a twist of his wrist, Orion knocked Kazuki's blade aside and followed up with a vicious kick to his chest. The impact sent Kazuki sprawling, his back slamming against the edge of a nearby building.
Orion: But no. Ya had to come back. Couldn't leave well enough alone, huh? Had to play the saviors. Lay your lives down for the boy maggot, like that would change a damn thing.
Kazuki groaned, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his katana as he pushed himself up.
Orion: Coming back here, dragging that girl withya—it's not bravery. It's stupidity. That's what I think anyhow.
He swung his katana again, the shadows lashing out like coiled serpents. Kazuki blocked the blow, but the force sent him staggering.
Orion: Two is greater than one, right? Simple math. So why the hell would ya throw away two lives for one? What's the point? Ya couldn't absolve yer guilt or somethin'?
With a sudden burst of force, Orion slammed his katana down, knocking Kazuki's blade aside and following up with a spinning strike that sent the older man crashing to the ground.
Orion: But yer biggest mistake. By far yer most fatal error was thinking a numbers advantage was enough to take a guy like me down. Throw in ten more men, nah, throw in a 'hundred of 'em. Bring 'em all to me and I'll cut 'em all down one by one. After all, I was given this hunt, and once I'm personally given an assignment, I can't stop 'till it's carried out to completion. Thus is the nature of myself, Orion.
He swung his blade with devastating force, the impact slamming into Kazuki's katana.
Orion: The Scorpion Hunter.
The fiery sword managed to block the strike, but the sheer power of it sent Kazuki hurtling backward.
Kazuki: Gah!
He shot upwards, tumbling into the side of the building, the impact shattering stone and glass as the structure groaned under the force.
He barely had time to breathe before Orion was on him again. A second strike from the shadow-laden katana tore through the air, catching Kazuki mid-recovery. The force sent him soaring upward, crashing through the roof of the building.
Kazuki landed in a crouch on the rooftop, the flames of his katana flickering weakly. He staggered to his feet, his gaze sweeping over the battlefield below.
The streets were in ruins. Civilians scrambled through the chaos, desperate to escape the destruction that surrounded them.
A… disaster.
But there was no time to let the weight of it settle.
Orion appeared again, his figure blurring as he leaped through the air. Shadows trailed behind him like the tail of a comet, his katana poised to strike.
Flames roared to life once more, pushing back against the oppressive shadows. The two forces collided with a deafening crash, the rooftop shuddering under the strain.
Orion's grin returned, his eyes narrowing as he pressed closer, his voice dripping with malice.
Orion: But tell me somethin'—
Kazuki braced himself, his breath coming in labored gasps.
Orion: Is Grace really what ya feel most guilty about?
Kazuki froze.
Orion's smirk twisted into something darker, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction.
Orion: Or is it the soul of the katana I'm wielding that's got ya all messed up? The one that belonged to that damned hag. What was her name again.
Kazuki's face dropped, and Orion flashed his teeth, nearly bursting with glee.
Orion: Oh yeah that's right. The old White Tiger–Liu Fang.
The name hit Kazuki like a thunderclap. His body stiffened, the weight of the shadows around him suddenly magnified a hundredfold.
Kazuki's limbs refused to move, his katana trembling in his grasp as the shadows immobilized him completely. Orion pushed forward, sprinting at the immobilized old man, determined not to let him slip from his grasp this time.
Orion: Stay put and maybe now, I'll get to go home ya old maggot!
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Grace's breath caught as the ground beneath her trembled. Her wide eyes locked onto the crumbling building where her master had disappeared.
Grace: Sir…
The word barely escaped her lips before Thomas surged forward.
Grace blinked, snapping out of her stupor as she saw him rushing headlong toward the wreckage. His movements were unsteady, his legs barely supporting him as he staggered toward the chaos.
Grace: Stop!
She lunged after him, her fingers wrapping around his arm.
Grace: Answer me! What are you thinking? You can't fight in that condition!
Thomas wrenched his arm free with surprising force, his face twisted in anger.
Thomas: Fuck off!
The words hit her like a slap. She froze, stunned, her hand still hovering where it had held him.
Thomas turned his back to her, his swollen face set in grim determination as he pressed on toward the building.
Grace: Damn it, Thomas!
Her chest tightened, frustration bubbling under her skin. She clenched her fists, swallowing the sting of his outburst.
If she couldn't get him to stay, she at least wouldn't let him slow her down.
She darted forward, grabbing him before he could protest. In one swift motion, she hoisted him onto her back.
Thomas: Mmf—!
His muffled screams of protest came out as incoherent noises, his swollen lips rendering his words unintelligible.
Thomas thrashed weakly, but his strength was gone. Grace adjusted his weight on her back, gritting her teeth as her sore muscles screamed in protest. She poured as much energy as she could into her body, forcing herself to maintain the weight of the boy.
Grace: If you're going to be stubborn, at least let me make sure you don't get yourself killed.
She carried him toward the side of the building, her eyes scanning the crumbling structure until she spotted a half-destroyed ladder clinging precariously to the wall. The sight of it made her stomach turn, but there was no time to hesitate.
Thomas let out another garbled protest, but Grace ignored it as she gripped the ladder. Her fingers dug into the cold, rusted metal.
The structure trembled ominously with every movement. Dust and debris rained down from above, stinging her eyes and coating her skin.
A little farther. Almost there
She climbed as fast as her weary limbs would allow. The building shuddered again, a violent tremor that nearly knocked her off the ladder.
Grace squeezed her eyes shut, her heart pounding.
Grace: Please, be okay, old man. Please…
The weight of Thomas on her back made every step harder, but she refused to stop. The thought of what might happen if she didn't reach the top in time kept her moving, her focus narrowing to the next rung, and the next.
Finally, she reached the top.
With a grunt, Grace threw Thomas onto the roof, his body landing with a thud as he rolled to a stop. She followed, leaping from the ladder and pulling herself onto the crumbling edge.
Grace: Stay put!
She didn't wait for a response, her gaze snapping to the center of the rooftop.
There they were.
Grace's chest tightened as she watched.
Kazuki stood at the edge of the rooftop, his posture rigid, his sword hanging limply at his side.
And through his chest, piercing cleanly through his heart, was Orion's blade.
The world blurred around her. The distant sounds of battle faded, replaced by the deafening roar of her heartbeat.
Grace: Kazuki…
Her voice cracked, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe.
Kazuki's head tilted slightly, his weary gaze meeting hers. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
And then, his body began to fall.
Grace's scream tore through the air, raw and desperate.
Grace: Kazuki!
And as the old man's body descended onto the floor of the rooftop, Grace's trembling hands reached out, powerless to stop the weight of her world from shattering.