The earth had forgotten how to beat.
Time no longer remembered his name.
But he was still there.
His ribs stretched upward like cracked towers, his hair tangled with dry leaves, his life drained.
One of his eyes still burned with resolve.
And the silence...
It wasn't emptiness.
It was a peace deeper than death — a disturbing kind of peace.
And when he breathed again, the world trembled.
> "Why... did you wake me?"
It wasn't a command.
It wasn't a cry for help.
It was quiet disappointment.
He hadn't sealed Serekh for glory.
He had done it so that…
he could never reach his one true mother.
That day, a soul had burned.
And this silence had become its grave.
The pain in his skin hadn't faded.
He reached for the scorched parts of his soul — but found nothing.
Only ashes.
He had awakened in his own ashes.
As he stepped forward, the ground moved with him.
Not welcoming him.
Not rejecting him.
Just... acknowledging him.
He looked at his foot: one still human, the other marked by the sign of the destroyed Serekhka.
Then a shadow passed in front of him — a reflection that did not recognize him.
> "Who woke me?"
No answer.
No Shinrei.
No children.
No one.
He walked barefoot.
Silence surrounded him.
Every step didn't tell him where he was —
but what had been forgotten.
The air was still.
No wind.
But the mist surrounding him... seemed to wait for his breath.
He lifted his head and looked toward the machine.
Only a great ring spinning slowly —
So many broken seals, a shattered structure…
Clearly broken in anger.
> "Who broke this seal?" he muttered — though deep inside, he already knew.
He pressed his fingers into the ground.
It didn't react.
This place had once bowed before him.
Now... it only watched.
To his left stood a ruined pillar.
Its symbols had been erased.
But he remembered...
His brothers' names had once been etched there.
This place had been his only sanctuary.
Far from pain, far from all things.
And now…
even that was gone.
At the base of the pillar, he noticed a small stone shard.
A note had been scratched into its surface:
> "If you want to go back to your boring nap...
Find everyone holding a piece.
Catch me, Big Bear."
Nujah smirked slightly in his dead body.
The writing vanished.
Silence returned.
He now understood:
Time was limited.
No light.
No peace.
Not until he took everything back.
As Nujah walked toward the exit, he saw it had been shattered.
He knelt.
Lowered his head.
But didn't close his eyes.
He whispered:
> "I'm here... Mother."
The ground warmed.
A light rose from deep within.
A door formed before him.
It didn't shine.
It didn't command.
It simply existed.
Waiting.
The door opened.
He stepped through.
And vanished.
The door closed.
No sound was made.
It was as if it had never existed.
Ahead, there was only a heavy silence.
But this silence... was different from the first.
This had once been his home.
There weren't even shadows here.
Darkness could not enter.
The air was still, and time felt frozen.
Yet his body... felt more at ease.
The pain had lessened.
His dead body was slowly healing.
As if this place allowed him to breathe again.
But he knew:
This healing was temporary.
Once he stepped outside, everything would collapse again.
He didn't rush.
The corridor was lined with stone.
As if prepared only for him.
He reached the throne room.
It was vast. Empty.
Not even guards.
The throne stood alone.
There wasn't even dust.
It wasn't abandoned.
It wasn't lived in.
There were no brothers, no monsters.
Only strangeness.
But his mother wasn't there.
That woman... was gone.
Nujah slowly moved toward the balcony.
The door was slightly open.
When he stepped through, he saw:
A figure.
Back turned.
Leaning on the balcony rail.
Watching the outside… like a child.
Nujah approached silently.
Came beside her.
Knelt down without a word.
And simply asked:
> "Where are the children?"
The woman didn't turn her head.
Her gaze remained distant.
She was silent for a moment.
Then, in a low voice, she said:
> "The wind has changed… hasn't it?"
The man waited for a response.
But she said something else instead.
She hadn't answered.
She was pretending not to know.
And the man noticed this.
He stayed quiet.
They waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
Then she spoke again:
> "Speaking with you has its own charm."
He came closer.
Knelt beside her again and spoke without looking at her:
> "You know why I came."
She didn't react.
Only said:
> "After all this time... not even a hello?"
Nujah answered:
> "I didn't come to spend time.
Saying hello means starting over."
> "Your seven children... tell me where they are.
I need to find them before Serekhka fully takes control."
The woman nodded slightly — her expression sorrowful, but firm:
> "I can't tell you.
I no longer know what they're doing.
Since you left... each went their own way."
Nujah's face remained expressionless.
But his eyes were filled with silent exhaustion.
> "So you couldn't keep your promise."
Naraka didn't answer.
He noticed.
Words were no longer necessary.
He stepped back.
> "Then I'll find them myself.
Don't worry... especially Maria.
The moment I find her, I'll send her to you."
He paused.
> "Still... thank you for the information, Mother."
The woman turned for the first time.
Her eyes were tired.
But her voice calm:
> "Don't be too harsh, Nujah."
He stopped.
Turned his head slightly.
His voice colder than usual:
> "Whether I'm harsh or not...
They'll be the ones to decide."
And he walked away —
without ever looking back.
---
The silence behind the door didn't last long.
Nujah had barely taken three steps when—
"Wuhuhuu!" a sharp cry echoed through the air.
He turned his head.
At shoulder height, standing confidently on one leg, was a crow:
"Hold it! You're Nujah, right?"
Nujah sighed.
"Let me guess... Muzan's pet?"
The crow twitched with energy.
"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"
Seeing no point in talking to a pet, Nujah kept walking.
But the crow flew ahead and landed in front of him again.
"Hey! Muzan said you'd be coming. I'm here to guide you.
Think of me as your… GPS."
"Muzan's been watching me all this time?"
"Always. He takes you seriously. Maybe a little too seriously."
The crow reached behind with its beak and pulled out a note tied to its back. It flapped its wings theatrically:
"The closest person you're looking for: Vercurius.
He's on a floating city named Vercu, right in the middle of the sea.
If you don't get there in time... he'll escape by ship.
You know how old enemies are. They always leave a little too early."
Nujah stopped and leaned toward the bird.
"You memorized that, didn't you?"
The crow coughed.
"Kind of… Maria wrote it down for me."
Nujah looked down for a moment, hoping they weren't planning something terrible.
There was a short pause.
He was about to keep walking when the crow added one last line:
"Hey, maybe the world isn't all that bad, huh?
A guy walking around with a bird on his head… it's unusual, but kind of iconic."
The stone path beneath his feet looked like faded lines drawn on an ancient map.
No signs. No names.
But he knew: the road still recognized him.
Behind him came a rustling sound.
"Kraaa! This road's cursed.
Or maybe I'm just hungry," said the crow, flapping its wings.
One eye squinted, the other wide open.
"You know, Nujah, there used to be a guy selling crepes along this road.
Now we all just eat dust."
Nujah didn't respond.
The crow was used to talking to himself anyway.
"This silence is killing me," he said again.
"I mean… you were dead, weren't you?
Do the dead walk such beautiful roads? You're lucky.
I've lost even my ankles."
Without taking his eyes off the path, Nujah turned toward a stone.
A statue of a fallen warrior, neck broken, face sunken.
A paper stuck on its base still bore one visible line—written in eerie, deliberate script, the voice almost echoing from it:
> "Those who leave their hearts behind turn to stone when they return."
The crow saw it too.
"Yup… you're getting all dramatic again.
Still, we can turn back, you know.
Maybe your mother forgave you.
Maybe she even has a cozy little nest for me…"
Without a word, Nujah raised a single finger.
Dark shadows formed threads around the crow's beak, holding it shut briefly.
Then he released it.
The crow burst into laughter.
"Ahaha, okay okay, I'll shut up. Time to get serious.
We're heading to Vercurius.
And I bet the moment we arrive, they'll roast us alive."
"He can't roast me," Nujah said at last.
His voice was cold.
"Even if I'm not as strong as I used to be…
there's no way I'd lose to him."
Even though he was the strongest in his family,
he muttered with a dry smirk,
"My sister… with the curse of the one-who-must-not-be-named over me,
Vercurius can't even tickle me."
The crow, startled, asked nervously,
"Okay but… before we take the key from Vercurius—
what exactly should we watch out for?"
In a serious tone, Nujah replied:
"My sister is… one of the most powerful beings alive.
Her abilities mirror Death's, though she's 93% weaker by comparison.
But even with that gap… she alone could annihilate every last one of the Shinrei brothers.
Myself included."
The crow shrieked in fear:
"7%?! That's still terrifyingly high!"
Nujah shouted back:
"You're not the one who'll fight her anyway!"
And so, bickering and shouting at each other,
they made it to the end of the road.
Far in the distance, beyond the hills,
smoke rose from the ocean's edge.
The scent of salt and ash filled the air.
And yet… the sky was more beautiful than it had ever been.
Enough to calm both Nujah and the crow.
They sat quietly at the shore for a moment, watching the sky.
Then Nujah stood up and smirked slightly.
"Hope you like the ocean breeze," he said.
The crow tilted its head.
"I'm already starting to regret this."
---