The mist rolled into Aoritsu like a slow tide, swallowing the lantern light one flicker at a time. By nightfall, the village looked like it had been erased from the world.
Akuzai stood at the watchtower, his breath clouding in the chill air. From above, the mist didn't move like normal—it twisted, curling in deliberate shapes, as though alive.
Behind him, Abhishek joined, sword drawn. "This isn't weather."
"No," Akuzai murmured. "It's him."
Inside the village square, Yukiko helped Miyako herd children into the shrine. Their footsteps echoed unnaturally loud, as if the fog wanted to hear them.
Then came the sound—distant at first, then growing closer. The slow rhythm of many footsteps, perfectly in sync.
From the edge of the mist, they appeared.
Men and women of Aoritsu—neighbors, merchants, farmers—all walking forward in unison. Their eyes were black glass. Their movements smooth, empty.
Tanishk stepped forward, flame sparking at his palm. "They're vessels."
Akuzai's voice was tight. "Don't hurt them unless you have to. They're not themselves."
The first villager lunged without a word, swinging a sickle. Akuzai caught the strike, twisting to disarm, but more poured from the fog. The air filled with the scrape of metal, the hollow cries of possessed throats.
Anuj darted between attacks, pulling a child out of harm's way. "He's testing us—seeing if we'll turn on our own!"
Abhishek's blade flashed, cutting the shaft of a spear before it could strike Yukiko. "Then we give him nothing to use!"
In the heart of the chaos, Yukiko froze. One of the vessels stumbled into the square—a young boy, no older than twelve. His hands trembled as he lifted a wooden staff toward her.
"Help…" his real voice cracked for a moment, just long enough for her to hesitate.
Then his eyes went black again.
Before the strike landed, Miyako stepped between them, catching the blow with her forearm. Light burst from her palm, forcing the boy back into the mist.
Yukiko's breath shook. "He's inside them… and he's letting them feel it."
Above it all, a shadow shifted in the fog. The air seemed to fold around it.
Veyrix's voice poured through the vessels' mouths in unison:
"You clutch each other like lifelines. Let me see… how far you'll go to hold on."
The mist thickened until even shapes were hard to see. In the whiteness, Akuzai felt a sudden pull—someone's hand brushing his before slipping away.
"Yukiko?" he called.
No answer.
The mist swirled, and she was gone.
"AKUZAI!" Tanishk's voice cut through the chaos. "She's not here—he's taken her again!"
Akuzai's blood turned to fire. The vessels began retreating, vanishing into the fog like ghosts dissolving at dawn.
Only Veyrix's whisper lingered:
"One thread at a time…"