The street had become an apocalypse of old men.
Kaeya landed lightly on the stone pavement, boots scraping as she twisted her body mid-step. Her sword flashed once, a clean arc of steel cutting through the air. The blade passed through an old man's neck—
And instead of blood, the body collapsed into yellowish smoke.
The powder scattered like ash caught in a foul wind, drifting upward as the old man's face twisted into a smile that did not belong on any human expression. The grin lingered for a heartbeat longer than it should have, suspended in the air, before dissolving completely.
Kaeya recoiled half a step.
"…What is this?" she whispered.
Her grip tightened around the sword.
She was not unfamiliar with monsters, illusions, or demonic tricks. She had fought specters, cursed corpses, even beings that mimicked humans. But this— this was wrong in a way she couldn't immediately name.
"A demon?" she muttered, eyes darting across the street.
