On a jagged mountain peak, two lone figures stood, both clad in black robes.

One gazed solemnly at the distant forest, his expression indifferent, as if lost in reminiscence.

In stark contrast, the other hummed a tune—lighthearted and carefree.

"And so, 'He' rewrote it," he murmured, a faint smile crept on his lips.

... 

Huff~

Huff~

They sure are persistent. 

My body is in terrible shape–cuts and bruises cover every inch of me, and the pain is unbearable, only with sheer determination was I able to survive for this long. 

What the hell do they want from me, anyway?!

It seems they've mistaken me for someone else... At first, I thought I could take advantage of this by getting something– since they looked like escorts of some wealthy noble. But now, it seems this person I was impersonating is far from noble.

I sneak a glance behind me.

Four shadowy figures are closing the distance—three lancers and an arcanist. And judging by that regalia… they must be from—

BOOM!

A deafening explosion could be heard, the force of the explosion sent me flying. The blaze started to spread everywhere, thick smoke filled the area creating a suffocating sensation in the field. 

The putrid stench of animal carcasses and burnt wood stings my nostrils, preventing me from breathing properly. 

Before I even started to process what happened, I saw myself getting strangled and lifted by a man in lilac armor. 

"Y-you..!"

"Tone down your murderous intent. You can't do anything against us."

The man coldly said. He then proceeded to toss me aside, and my body crashed against the tree. Excruciating pain courses all over my body, but I gritted my teeth to avoid losing consciousness. 

"We are from the House of Ascart."

Ascart… Just as I thought. The Ascart lineage of the West.

If I remember, their history traces back to the 2nd Epoch—the only family known to wield aether. They are a bunch of madmen who dared to rebel against constellations, performing forbidden rituals and sacrifices for the sake of so-called 'peace'. 

"It seems you haven't realized the gravity of your actions. The Ascart Codex you took is an essential fragment of—"

"What are you talking about?" I cut him off, forcing myself to stand despite the pain. "You've got the wrong person! I don't—"

Before I could react, the man instantly shot toward me, his hand fiercely gripping my jaw. 

"Ysora" he coldly said, his gaze fiercely fixed on me. A cold chill runs down my spine.

The woman in a purple robe stepped forward. She mumbled something under her breath and raised her hand toward me.

A misty white energy materialized from her hand. The energy is somewhat similar to what others call 'mana'. It shot toward me, specifically directly at my head. 

The misty energy rushes toward me. My body suddenly becomes sluggish, as if an unknown force is pressing down on me. Dull whispers penetrate my mind, their words are incomprehensible. 

My vision gradually darkens as I find myself collapsed on the ground.

N-no… is this it?

Everything fades.

...

"Captain, it seems the kid is telling the truth" 

"Well, that's unexpected." the Captain muttered, turning to his companion. His brows knitly frowned before slowly adding, "But… haven't you noticed it too? His energy– it feels similar to it" 

Tak!

The air fluctuates uncontrollably. An immense pressure from above covered the whole area could be felt by Ascart warriors, helplessly dropping them on their knees.

The space cracked. 

Then, they descend.

Two lone figures clad in black-robbed emerged from the sky. 

The solemn one lands first. His eyes indifferently swept the battlefield. Eventually landing on an unconscious body.

An unconscious body of the boy—battered, bloodied. He has pale skin and long black hair that resembles a wolf. Despite the condition of the body, it exudes an otherworldly aura that couldn't be seen by others. 

The other lands beside him. His expression is flatly different from the others. Softly humming, as if finding the situation amusing, he lightly walked toward the unconscious body. 

The humming figure stops in front of Nero. Leaning down, he extends a gloved hand and playfully pokes his body.

"Unsurprisingly, you've gotten yourself into trouble again, Nero~" 

The Ascart warrior remains on the ground, and watches the scene unfold, barely withstanding the pressure. 

Gritting his teeth, the Captain forces himself to stand up, enduring the mountain pressure. His once piercing eyes before were gone, and now gleam with wariness and dread. 

His voice was spoken in a grim tone.

"Machinas' of Antevus"

Silence.

Then—

"Impossible…" the arcanist spoke in disbelief.

"A-are you referring to that fallen family?" 

"H-how…?"

"Oho~ it seems you recognize the regalia.. And here I thought, we were quite forgettable!" A pale smile appeared from a humming figure. 

Turning toward the Ascart warriors, extending both of his arms, his eyes flickered in a strange light, and he amusingly added, "Now, tell me how much you know~"

"That's enough, Medes." 

A low voice bore the whole area. The pressure that weighs down the warriors immediately vanishes as if it never existed in the first place. The solemn figure stepped forward in between Medes and Ascart warriors.

"Not until 'His' return" slightly smiling, he softly gazed at Medes. 

Medes couldn't help but flinch.

'I really hate this guy' 

Flashing a wry smile, he then said in an excited voice, "Well, I guess it's time to take what's ours~" He raised his hand, and a small black box-like appeared out of thin air. 

It exudes a thick aura similar to that of tendrils rampaging. The tendrils, which seemed to be made of sinister energy, began marching toward Nero's body, its tendrils coiled around it, covering the entire body–eventually swallowing it whole. 

The body is gone. 

Snapping his fingers, Medes made the black box vanish.

"Aaaaaand… Done~!" Medes exclaimed in an excited voice, Clasping his hand, he proceeded to hum in a carefree tone.

The Ascart warriors dumbfoundedly watched the spectacle unfold in front of them. 

The Captain remained on the ground motionlessly. Gritting his teeth, his breathing ragged. 'That energy… No doubt about it. That was the energy that catalyzes from below—an energy that defies aether itself…'

"It seems we're done here~ should I kill them~?" breaking his thought, Medes yawningly asked the solemn figure, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. 

The solemn figure cast one last glance at the warriors before turning away. "Let's go."

"Geez, you're no fun." Medes sighed in dismay before snapping his finger once again.

The space cracked open, a tremendous force pulling at the air itself.

Without hesitation, the solemn figure stepped inside. Medes followed, waving half-heartedly over his shoulder.

And just like that—

They were gone.

"Captain…" The arcanist's voice was hoarse. "Who… No, what were they?"

The Captain let out a hollow laugh, his fingers trembling as he clenched his fists.

"The fourth coming is nigh."