"In the abyss, every cry becomes a hymn — a song of despair and defiance intertwined."
— Letter from Hotaru no Yakusha
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The abyss was not a place—it was a feeling,
A yawning darkness swallowing light and hope,
Where echoes of forgotten prayers tangled with screams no one dared to hear.
Shindō stood at the edge of that void, nodachi gripped tightly, eyes fixed on the black horizon that seemed to stretch endlessly.
Behind him, the remnants of a broken world whispered in the wind,
And before him, only the cold promise of battle.
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Yuuki's voice was soft, almost a breath against the storm.
"In the abyss, we find not emptiness, but the depths of our own souls.
What we choose to sing there shapes what we become."
Shindō's gaze sharpened.
He knew that song well—the one sung by those who have lost everything,
Yet refuse to fall silent.
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The night erupted into chaos.
Steel clashed, sparks flew like dying stars, and cries of pain wove through the dark like a twisted symphony.
Amidst it all, Shindō moved with purpose—each strike a note in the hymn he refused to surrender.
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When the dawn finally bled into the sky, the abyss remained.
But so did the song.