They couldn't breathe. They tried, their chest heaving, but the air refused to come. Their lungs burned, their body locked in a battle it was doomed to lose. Every second stretched into eternity, cold and suffocating, as if the water itself sought to crush them.
Akiju's heart thumped violently in his chest, each beat a desperate plea for life. His thoughts scrambled, fragmented, clinging to the fleeting moments before the fall. I can't breathe. I can't… move. Is this it? Is this how it ends—again?
The cold was unbearable, piercing through his clothes and sinking into his bones. It wasn't just the water—it was something deeper, something that wrapped around him like invisible chains. He felt trapped, as if locked behind a door with a broken handle, unable to escape no matter how hard he pushed.
Focus, he told himself. Move. Do something. Anything. He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to obey. Panic surged through him as he willed his limbs to move, to fight, to reach for anything that might pull him from the icy void.
Then, through the darkness, he felt it. A hand—gripping him, pulling at him. It was strong, unrelenting, and filled with purpose. Hecate? His mind clung to the thought, a flicker of hope piercing through the haze of fear. But he couldn't tell. The cold dulled his senses, muffling the world into a blur of sensations.
The pull grew stronger, dragging him upward—or was it downward? Direction lost all meaning in the water's unrelenting embrace. His mind screamed for clarity, for an answer, but none came. All that remained was the ache in his chest and the rhythmic pounding of his heart.
And then, just as abruptly as it began, the crushing pressure eased. Akiju gasped, expecting to choke on water—but instead, his lungs filled with air. He could breathe, though every inhale felt wrong, disconnected, as if he wasn't breathing at all. The cold remained, clinging to him like a second skin, and his body refused to obey his commands.
Am I… alive? The thought came unbidden, sharp and disjointed. I should be dead. I was drowning. I was— His pulse quickened as realization struck. No. I'm still underwater. But how? I can breathe… but I can't move. What the hell is happening?
He strained against the paralysis, willing his arms to move, his fingers to twitch—anything to prove he still had control. But his body remained still, unresponsive, as if he were no longer its master. He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed; all he could see was darkness, endless and unyielding.
Is this… the afterlife? No, it's too cold for that. Too empty. Am I trapped here? Is this what happens after death?
His thoughts spiraled, an unrelenting tide of questions and fears. Why now? Why again? I thought I'd escaped this. Did I even have a chance to begin with?
The silence pressed against him, oppressive and all-encompassing. But beneath it, something stirred—a faint, distant hum, like the murmur of a voice he couldn't quite hear. It wasn't words, not yet, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine.
What is this place? And what's waiting for me here?
He didn't know what this place was. Everything felt wrong, disjointed, as though the laws of reality had unraveled. He was floating—at least, that's what it seemed like—but whether he was moving up or down, he couldn't tell. The sensation was weightless yet heavy, like drifting in a void that pressed against him from every direction.
He tried to open his eyes—or at least, he thought he did. He had no eyes, yet somehow, he could see. And what he saw defied comprehension.
A vast sea stretched endlessly both above and below him, its surface shimmering like polished glass yet flowing like sand in a timeless hourglass. Jagged pillars rose from the sea, piercing through its glossy expanse. They were stained with a faint brown hue, their textures uneven and alien, as though sculpted by forces that cared little for symmetry.
Before him—or was it behind him?—rectangles and squares danced like ripples, moving in waves that mirrored each other with impossible precision. Their movements were hypnotic, each one casting faint reflections onto the sea's surface. And there, at the center of his vision, loomed a circle. A circle with a missing piece. It spun counterclockwise, its movements slow but deliberate, emitting a faint pulse that resonated in his spirit.
What is this place? The thought echoed in his mind, but no answer came—only the whispers. Soft, dissonant voices that seemed to rise from the sea itself, weaving around him like a tapestry of secrets just out of reach.
As he floated, the tunnel-like expanse around him began to shift. The sea churned, its surface rippling unnaturally. From its depths, hands emerged—countless hands, stretching upward, their fingers grasping for something unseen. The hands appeared almost human, but their movements were erratic, desperate. Before they could reach him, they turned to ash, crumbling into nothingness and falling back into the sea as though they had never been.
Why? he thought. Why show me this? Why am I here?
His mind was assaulted by flashes of images, each one appearing like fragments of a shattered mirror. Structures, towering and immense, flickered into view—vast geometric shapes that seemed to defy physics. Pages of intricate calculations and equations scrolled past his consciousness, each one layered with complex diagrams and symbols he couldn't decipher. The information felt heavy, pressing against his mind as though it demanded to be understood.
I don't care about this! he screamed internally, his thoughts laced with desperation. I just… I just want to see her. Just once more. Please… let me see her.
The weight of his longing crushed him more than the strange environment ever could. He could picture her face in his mind's eye: Hecate, with her sharp features and dark purple eyes, always brimming with confidence—even when she teased him mercilessly. He wanted to hear her voice, even if it was scolding him. He wanted to feel the faint sting of her pillow smacking him awake. He wanted her to call him "little bro," just one more time.
Hecate… where are you? Are you okay?
The sea continued to churn below him, the whispers growing louder. The jagged pillars glistened faintly, their surfaces slick with an otherworldly sheen. The circle spun faster now, its missing piece leaving a faint trail of light in its wake. Yet none of it mattered. All he could think about was her—her voice, her laugh, her unwavering presence. The one person he wanted to see more than anything.
The whispers grew into a cacophony, an overwhelming tide of sound that threatened to drown him. But even as his mind wavered under the weight of this strange world, one thought remained clear, burning brightly against the encroaching darkness.
I just want to see her. Just once more.
The thought echoed in Akiju's mind, his desperation sharp and raw. The whispers surrounding him grew louder, their dissonance piercing through his consciousness. The hands emerging from the churning sea below him reached out again, their pale forms stretching upward as though drawn to his plea. This time, they didn't turn to ash immediately. Instead, they froze mid-motion, trembling faintly as if caught in indecision.
And then, a voice broke through the cacophony—calm, clear, and undeniably feminine. It spoke first in Japanese, smooth and melodic, like a song whispered through the cracks of reality.
「
The words resonated deeply within him, and a moment later, the voice repeated itself in English, gentle but firm, like a guiding hand. Skill?
Akiju froze, his mind struggling to comprehend the source of the voice. It wasn't coming from the hands or the sea—it seemed to reverberate from everywhere and nowhere at once. Yet, the hands, still trembling, began to glow faintly, as though the voice spoke through them.
I can… talk? he realized, his thoughts forming into words even though he had no mouth. He tried to speak, and to his surprise, his voice carried into the void.
"Will it let me see her? My sister?" he asked, his tone uncertain, tinged with both hope and fear.
The voice responded without hesitation, the same dual tones weaving through his mind like an ethereal harmony.
「
The words sent a shiver through him, the promise so simple yet carrying a weight he couldn't ignore. His chest ached, his longing spilling over into the void around him.
"I miss her," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I'll do anything to see her again."
The voice didn't waver, its tone steady as it repeated the question.
「
Akiju hesitated for only a moment before he answered, the words coming easily. "Yes. Yes, I'll acquire it."
The hands began to move, their glowing forms twisting and coiling like streams of liquid light. The voice spoke again, resonating through the air as the hands descended toward him.
「
The moment the words echoed, the hands made contact with him, their light enveloping his form. A sudden warmth flooded his being, pushing away the cold that had gripped him moments before. It was overwhelming yet comforting, as though he were being wrapped in a gentle embrace.
For a moment, the sea stilled. The jagged pillars gleamed faintly, their surfaces reflecting the golden glow emanating from Akiju. The circle above him slowed its spin, the missing piece glinting with a strange light before the entire construct began to shift, almost watching him.
Shekel's Hand. The name pulsed through his mind, clear and immutable, as if etched into his very soul.
As the warmth subsided, the whispers faded into silence, and the hands slowly withdrew into the sea, dissolving into faint wisps of light as they vanished. The voice spoke one last time, its tone the same.
「行きなさい.」 (Go.)
The weightlessness returned, but this time, it was accompanied by a sense of purpose. Akiju didn't know what lay ahead, but the longing in his heart was no longer met with emptiness. He clung to the promise, the single thread connecting him to the one person who mattered most.
I'm coming, Hecate.
The thought lingered, a quiet promise echoing in his mind. Slowly, he felt himself begin to drift, his body floating weightlessly through the strange expanse. The currents shifted around him, their unseen force pulling him toward the twin seas that stretched both above and below.
As the pull intensified, Akiju's form began to change, the whispers returning in fragmented tones that wove around him like a chorus. The currents swirled faster, carrying him forward until he reached the boundary where the seas met. There, the world twisted, folding upon itself in ways that defied logic.
Then it began.
From the mirrored seas, a dark, viscous substance rose—Black Rain. It clung to his body like liquid shadows, thick and alive, wrapping around him in strands that shimmered black with golden-brown highlights. The sensation was cold yet oddly comforting, as though the substance sought to steady him for what was to come. His body floated in suspension, held at an angle—125 degrees—as if even weight was unsure of his place in the world.
The churning seas stilled for a moment, their waves flattening into a perfect stillness. Akiju hung there, caught between two worlds, his eyes shut as if in deep sleep. The Black Rain pulsed faintly, tiny droplets breaking away from his form before being reabsorbed into the swirling mass.
For an eternity—or perhaps only a moment—he remained motionless, his body suspended in the inverted pool. The jagged pillars and mirrored shapes of the place seemed to converge around him, their reflections shifting as though acknowledging his presence.
And then, his eyes snapped open.