Ren lay lifeless on the jagged ground of the cave.
Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the dirt and broken stones.
Each breath was a struggle—thin, ragged, slipping through his lips in shallow gasps.
The world around him was fading, the pain growing distant.
He could feel it—
—the cold fingers of death creeping up his spine, wrapping around his chest.
And then—
—he was gone.
Or so it seemed.
When Ren opened his eyes, he wasn't in the mine anymore.
Instead, he found himself standing on the familiar endless sea of white Lycoris Radiata.
The petals shifted and stirred without wind, brushing against his ankles like whispering ghosts.
Above, the sky stretched vast and impossibly blue, broken only by soft, lazy clouds drifting across its face.
The air was warm but empty.
Weightless.
Soundless.
It was familiar—too familiar.
A memory without a source.
At a distance, standing amidst the endless field, he saw her again.
The woman.
Facing away from him, her long dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of silk, untouched by the breeze.
Her voice reached him first—
—low, sultry, and edged with amusement, like the purr of a cat toying with its prey.
"You gave up so easily, little Ren,"
she said, her words stretching lazily across the endless expanse.
Ren staggered forward, confusion clawing at his broken mind.
"Who are you?"
his voice came out small, fragile, barely a whisper.
The woman didn't answer at first.
Instead, she slowly—almost teasingly—turned around.
Ren's breath caught in his throat.
Her face—
—it was there but not.
Scribbled.
Blacked out.
As if someone had taken ink and smeared her features into oblivion.
No eyes, no mouth, no expression.
Just darkness where her face should have been.
Still, somehow, he felt her watching him.
Smiling.
She tilted her head slightly, almost amused at his question.
But she didn't answer.
Instead, she stepped closer, the hem of her long dress dragging through the sea of flowers like a shadow.
And she spoke again, her voice lower now, filled with an unsettling certainty:
"Your time hasn't come yet."
The world seemed to pulse at her words, the flowers rippling outward like water disturbed by a single stone.
"You need to get back,"
she said, almost tenderly.
The sky above them shifted—deepening from blue to a bruised, stormy hue—
and a distant rumble echoed across the endless field of white.
Ren stared at her, his heart hammering in confusion and desperation.
"But how—?"
Before he could finish, the woman raised a single, delicate hand.
"Just surrender your body to me."
And with the lightest touch of her finger against his forehead—
the world around him shattered into light.
Above the shattered mine, the night air pulsed with violence.
The monster—Kaito—thrashed in midair before hurling the girl off his back.
She crashed hard into the rocky ground, rolling painfully before skidding to a stop.
Dust and pebbles scattered as she gasped for breath, but there was no time—
—the monster was already pointing its palm at her, gathering energy, the air around his hand warping with the sheer heat of it.
Eyes narrowing, the girl struggled to lift her arm, conjuring a shield just in time.
The blast slammed into it, pushing her several meters back, her boots dragging deep ruts in the ground.
Her jaw clenched tight. She was getting slower. Tired.
But she wasn't finished.
Her fingers moved in swift, desperate patterns, and her voice rose into a sharp chant:
"大地よ,鎖となりて,悪を縛れ!"
("O earth, become chains and bind the evil!")
At her call, the ground around the monster split open.
From the cracks, chains of stone and light burst forth, coiling tightly around the monster's arms and torso with a violent snap.
The creature roared in frustration, yanking at the bindings, but they glowed with sigils—
—a debuff spell, sapping its strength and slowing its grotesque movements.
The girl seized the chance and sprinted forward, energy surging into her body.
Her plan was clear—end it now.
But the monster's shriek tore through the night, a screech of rage and defiance.
With an unnatural, jerking motion, it shattered the chains, shards of magic exploding outward like glass.
The monster retaliated immediately—its palm snapping forward, firing relentless bursts.
The girl barely managed to erect shield after shield, each one cracking faster under the assault.
She was pinned, trapped, unable to move an inch without being ripped apart.
Her teeth grit together. She couldn't hold out much longer.
Suddenly, the air around them shifted.
It grew heavy—thick like tar.
The ground seemed to sink.
The monster froze mid-attack, its body trembling as the crushing weight of an invisible force began to bear down on it.
"This pressure..."
the monster hissed, a tremor of fear snaking into its voice for the first time.
Its wet, pale skin quivered.
Its crimson eyes widened in alarm as it twisted its head unnaturally—a full 180 degrees—to glance behind it.
And there—
Standing in the dust and debris—was Ren.
His body trembled under the strain.
Blood still oozed from open wounds, staining his torn clothes, dripping onto the rubble beneath him.
Each breath he drew was shaky, wet with pain—
—but his eyes burned.
Not with fear.
Not with desperation.
But with a sharp, unflinching resolve.
A gravity so thick and oppressive hung around him that even the air seemed to shudder.
Kaito—snarled, baring jagged, inhuman teeth.
"RENNNNN!!"
The scream tore from its throat, animalistic, filled with rage and hatred.
Without hesitation, it lunged—
—a blur of pale skin and gnashing fury.
Ren didn't move.
Not at first.
He watched.
Waited.
The moment the monster's claws slashed toward him, he sidestepped, letting the attack carve into the trees behind him.
BOOM.
A massive trunk exploded into splinters.
Ren didn't waste it.
In the same breath, he grabbed a broken branch—long, jagged, sharp at one end—and wielded it like a spear.
The monster whirled back around, furious, but Ren was already moving.
Silent.
Focused.
Another attack—another swipe—Ren ducked under it, the gust of wind from the strike slicing at his face.
He leapt onto a fallen log, using the uneven forest floor to his advantage, weaving through the chaos like smoke.
The monster snarled, furious at missing again.
It lunged.
Ren threw himself into a roll, snapping up another sharp piece of debris mid-motion.
Now, one jagged branch in each hand.
Still, he said nothing.
No war cries.
No pleas.
No threats.
Only cold determination as he moved with raw, desperate instinct.
When the monster struck again, Ren parried with the makeshift spear—wood against flesh.
CRACK.
The impact jarred Ren's arms, pain lancing up to his shoulders, but he held firm.
Using the recoil, he spun low, slashing across the monster's thigh with the other sharpened branch.
A thin line of black ichor spilled out.
The creature howled.
But Ren didn't flinch.
He drove forward, weaving through the shredded forest, always staying one step ahead, using every fallen branch, every shattered trunk, every patch of cover to survive—
—to fight back.
The night roared around them, but Ren remained silent.
Like a blade honed too long against stone, he struck without hesitation, fueled by something deeper than anger.
Something unbreakable.
Eventually, a distant rumble echoed overhead, breaking the tense silence. The sound of engines hissed through the smoky air, growing louder by the second. Its angular design resembled an otherworldly predator, its lights cutting through the haze to illuminate the devastation below.
The ship hovered mid-air, and with a mechanical whir, a hatch opened in its underside. From the illuminated doorway, a towering figure stepped forward. His silhouette was imposing, framed by the ethereal glow of the jet's interior.
A pair of reflective sunglasses obscured his eyes, and his crisp, dark military shirt—decorated with subtle insignias and neatly pressed—hugged his broad shoulders and chest. The high collar and reinforced seams lent it an air of both practicality and authority.
One hand gripped the edge of the hatch as he scanned the scene below. His posture radiated command, his weathered face betraying years of discipline and experience.
The smoke and debris began to thin.
The forest was battered, broken—branches snapped like bones, the earth torn and scorched.
The air hung heavy with the bitter stench of blood and burnt wood.
And there, standing amidst the wreckage was Ren.
His hands trembled at his sides, blood and dirt clinging to his torn fingers.
His chest rose and fell in shallow, shaky gasps.
In front of him slumped against the jagged remnants of a shattered tree was Kaito. Impaled through the torso by two massive, splintered tree stumps, black ichor gushing from the wounds.
His monstrous body, once relentless and twisted with rage, now sagged with the weight of death pressing down on him.
His face—
no longer fully monstrous, but not fully human either—twisted into a grotesque snarl.
"You... all of you..."
Kaito's voice was a choking, bubbling rasp, thick with blood and hatred.
"You're all... garbage... worthless... monsters..."
He coughed violently, black blood spilling from his mouth, painting his chin, his chest.
The monstrous gleam in his eyes faded.
His hands—those warped, clawed hands—twitched once...
then fell still.
Kaito's head slumped forward.
The world fell into a thick, almost sacred silence.
Ren stood there.
His shoulders heaved as the adrenaline bled out of him.
His mind, his body, every inch of him cried for rest.
But he stayed standing, his head slowly bowing under the invisible weight settling onto his shoulders.
The gravity of it hit him like a cold wave.
This wasn't victory.
It wasn't even survival.
It was a sentence.
A life sentence.
Ren tightened his fists until his nails dug into his palms.
He had looked away once.
He had convinced himself it wasn't his problem.
And because of that choice—
Kaito had fallen.
Twisted into something unrecognizable.
Alone. Forgotten. Broken.
And no matter how much he wanted to tear the memory away from himself, he couldn't.
He wouldn't.
This was his burden to bear.
Ren opened his mouth—his throat raw, his voice barely above a whisper—and forced the words out:
"I'm sorry, Kaito."
The words trembled in the air, fragile, almost lost in the broken world around him.
He let them hang there.
He let the guilt settle deep into his bones.
He let it carve itself into him.
Because he had to remember.
Because he would never look away again.
Ren stumbled forward slightly, knees threatening to buckle, but he caught himself.
He stood there for a long time, eyes closed, breathing shallow and broken, feeling every second of the silence.
A new vow—unspoken but burning bright—took root in the hollow ache inside him.
He would do better.
He would be better.
No matter how long it took.
No matter how many steps he had to crawl through blood and guilt to take.
He would carry Kaito with him—
forever.
But before he could say another word, his body betrayed him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, blood pooling beneath him from his injuries. Pain surged through him, sharp and overwhelming, as his body screamed in protest. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision, and his breath grew shallow.
The girl saw him fall and screamed in desperation, her voice piercing the silence of the night. "Ren!"
She sprinted toward him, her heart pounding in her chest. As she reached his fallen body, she caught him just before he hit the ground. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him steady.
Her eyes were wide with panic and tears streamed down her face as she pressed her hand against the impaling wound in his chest, her breath ragged. "No!" she gasped, her voice trembling with fear.
"Stay with me!" she whispered, her voice cracking as she clung to him, but Ren's body had already surrendered to the darkness, his consciousness slipping away into oblivion.
The girl held him close, her eyes brimmed with tears as she pressed her hand against the impaling wound in his chest, desperately trying to stem the bleeding.
A faint glow emanated from her palm, her power flickering as she attempted to heal him. Her hands glowed brighter as she pressed against his wounds, "Please, wake up!" she whispered, her voice cracking. But Ren had already slipped into unconsciousness.