At that moment, a destructive wave erupted from the distant night sky. A blinding light, as fierce as thunder, shattered the darkness and bathed the entire city in a ghastly white glow. William and Elder Kasamaki froze in place, their expressions changing drastically as if a profound and devastating message had pierced their souls.
The two exchanged a glance, disbelief and profound sorrow filling their eyes.
"Rayl... is dead?" Elder Kasamaki murmured, his voice trembling with the weight of grief.
William's throat tightened, rendering him incapable of speech. The crushing weight of despair and shock swept over him like a landslide, nearly causing him to collapse.
Observers 10 and 16, keen on their vulnerability, exchanged glances. Murderous intent flashed in their eyes as they lunged forward like ravenous beasts toward their prey.
But before they could strike, an overwhelming force descended upon the scene. The air seemed to freeze as if the entire world held its breath. A low, piercing voice echoed through the night, carrying a bone-chilling menace:
"10, 16, stand down."
Everyone looked up. A man hovered in the pitch-black sky, his presence radiating sheer terror. He wore a grotesque reaper's mask, cracked and scarred, each fissure a testament to boundless dread. His coarse hair swayed in the wind, and the aura surrounding him was death incarnate.
"Master 09…" Observer 10's fierce demeanor instantly waned, replaced by reverence and unmistakable fear.
William and Elder Kasamaki were still reeling from the shock of Rayl's death when Observer 09 slowly raised his skeletal hand. A deep, resonant hum echoed, like the sound of the abyss itself, shaking everyone's soul to its core.
In the distance, where Yame and Syoruha stood, a shadowy specter emerged—a massive ghostly hand clawed its way out of the ground, reaching for them with horrifying intent.
Myouka's pupils contracted sharply, her killing intent spilling forth without restraint. She wasted no time, drawing her bowstring taut. Frost gathered at her fingertips, forming a crystalline ice-blue arrow radiating a bone-chilling glow. With a crisp twang of the bowstring, the arrow shot forth like thunder, carving a frigid path through the air, as if it were a comet descending upon the giant spectral hand.
However, when the arrow struck, the expected frost and shattering failed to materialize. The arrow passed through the hand with astonishing speed, leaving no trace behind.
The hand continued its descent, an oppressive shadow devouring everything in its path. It was no mere physical entity but a manifestation of death itself, impervious to earthly attacks.
Myouka's gaze dimmed as helplessness and fury filled her eyes. She screamed hoarsely:
"Yame! Syoruha!"
But the ghostly hand did not falter, seizing Yame and Syoruha. Their forms rippled like disturbed water before vanishing—not disappearing but being dragged forcibly into the depths of the earth.
Myouka fell to her knees, her hands weakly pressing against the ground as despair consumed her.
William's eyes widened in horror as he watched his daughter taken. Grief and rage warred within him, threatening to overwhelm him entirely. He trembled, clenching his fists, struggling to suppress his emotions on the brink of erupting.
Observers 10 and 16 were visibly shaken by 09's methods. Their expressions were a mix of shock and reverence, awestruck by the power before them.
"They must die today," 09 declared, his voice devoid of warmth—a pronouncement of death itself. His cold gaze swept over William, Elder Kasamaki, and Harutemi, as sharp as a blade.
"Dig their graves," he commanded.
Observers 10 and 16 retreated into the shadows without hesitation. But William and Elder Kasamaki stood firm, their eyes blazing with unyielding determination.
The black scythe in 09's hand trembled slightly, releasing a low, guttural hum as if it echoed the depths of the abyss. Countless reaper masks materialized behind him like ghostly apparitions. Each mask was grotesque and distorted, some split in half with black mist seeping through the cracks, others featureless yet emanating a chilling gaze that seemed to pierce the soul.
The masks were caked in what appeared to be dried blood, their crimson stains forming patterns resembling tears. They floated unnaturally in the air, emitting piercing shrieks—sharp as rusty blades scraping against metal and interspersed with cries of anguish and despair. Each sound tore at the nerves, leaving an unbearable sense of dread.
Some masks had hollow, glowing red eyes that locked onto their victims with an unshakable grip, invoking inescapable fear. From the cracks of other masks oozed thick black liquid, which transformed mid-air into claws poised to rend any life form that dared approach.
As the masks encircled the battlefield, the air thickened with an indescribable stench of decay and blood. Their ghastly laughter echoed—a blend of mockery and madness, like the twisted voices of tormented souls. One mask turned slowly, its cracked mouth stretching into a grotesque grin, baring serrated, shark-like teeth as though ready to tear into its prey.
Their proximity drained the warmth and light from the space, leaving only suffocating darkness and despair. Even closing one's eyes offered no reprieve; the haunting laughter and relentless gazes remained omnipresent, a nightmare come to life.
Behind them, Harutemi's face turned ghostly pale, her eyes wide with terror. Her legs gave way beneath her, nearly causing her to collapse. The icy grip of fear pierced her bones, freezing her blood and constricting her breath. She could feel her heartbeat pounding erratically, threatening to burst from her chest.
Elder Kasamaki's gaze briefly flicked to her, a flicker of compassion crossing his eyes before being replaced by steely resolve. He had already made his decision.
"Come, let's see how long you can struggle," Observer 09 murmured coldly. His tone carried indifference and contempt, his gaze as unyielding as the scythe of the reaper itself.