Fire.
Fire spread everywhere.
In a single night, it lit up the entire city of the Kamakiri clan—just one day after the lord had left. The defenses fell easily before the Okawa assassins. Cloaked in darkness, they had slipped inside long ago, patiently lying in wait since the day the lord's wedding was announced.
Their original plan had been to assassinate Kamakiri Ousa. But Ousa had already left the city, turning the stronghold into a masterless serpent.
After slaughtering every guard in their path, they opened the city gates for their army, signaling with a flaming arrow shot into the sky.
A massacre followed. Houses burned one after another. The cries of children, women, and the elderly echoed through the streets. Many were dragged away and brutally tortured before they could even hold the bodies of their husbands or fathers. No one was spared. Nothing could stop the butchers—only anguished screams, merciless blades, and the ecstatic smiles of murderers. Those sounds fused together into a nightmarish chorus.
The soldiers guarding the lord's residence fought until their last breath. One by one, they fell.
With no other choice, the female servants of the clan took up spears and fought back. They sought only to carve out an escape route for the lord's remaining kin—especially Princess Kamakiri no Murasaki, who was only ten years old.
Beside her ran a young male attendant, barely older than she was—Sawada. His mother was holding out in the adjacent room.
Murasaki sobbed in Sawada's arms, struggling to reach her wet nurse. But the woman forcefully pushed the girl toward the door just as the enemy flooded in.
Her trembling hands grasped the princess's small fingers.
"Hurry… go, Princess!"
She pressed a strange, exquisitely carved ring into Murasaki's palm—set with three gemstones: green, red, and violet. It was the symbol of supreme authority of the Kamakiri clan.
From that single gesture, the young princess understood everything. She could not speak. Tears streamed down her soot-stained, delicate face.
"Princess! Go with Sawada and the others—escape! You must give it to the lord! Find the lord—!"
The wet nurse never finished her sentence. A katana pierced straight through her body. Sawada burned with rage as he watched his own mother impaled before him. Yet by sheer instinct, he clamped a hand over the princess's mouth, preventing her from making a sound.
The nurse, still silent, forced herself upright. Shielding the children from the commander behind her, she drove herself deeper onto the blade—right to the hilt—then slammed the sliding door shut.
All the children saw was the silhouette of the powerful general withdrawing his katana…and then severing her head.
Blood splattered across the door. The two children suppressed their grief and remained utterly silent.
They crept through a hidden passage leading to an underground escape tunnel beneath the fortress, where the remaining survivors—if any still lived—had gathered. Only a few dozen remained.
Most were women. Among them, Murasaki now held the highest status.
All the men had been trapped above. Whether they lived or died was unknown—but there was no hope left for them.
With nothing but spears and a few katanas, the survivors emerged from the tunnel onto a bamboo-covered hill.
From there, they looked back at their homeland. What had once been the most prosperous and wealthy city was now a horrific wasteland, drowning in flames and screams that seemed to reach the heavens.
Murasaki stood there, clutching her headscarf tightly. Her tears had run dry. Her face was completely expressionless. A female servant placed a hand on the princess's shoulder.
"Princess, we must keep moving. We must find the lord. Together, we will reclaim Kamakiri Castle—avenge this!"
But Murasaki showed no resolve at all. In a flat, detached voice—far too old for a child—she said,
"Do you really think bringing my father back would change anything?"
The servant fell silent. Murasaki continued, her eyes reflecting the firelight.
"…If my father had not been so greedy—if he had not constantly encroached upon Okawa's territory—would we be like this now?"
The servant shut her eyes tightly. She could neither answer nor agree.
"You must not say that, Princess! You are the rightful heir of Kamakiri. As long as we draw breath, we swear to stand beside you—to protect you, for Kamakiri, for those who have fallen!"
But Murasaki only lowered her gaze. They knew how broken she was. With no other choice, they lifted her into their arms and fled, leaving behind the castle that burned for days and nights without end.
Those who once knew Kamakiri would remember how splendid and prosperous it had been. No one could explain why it fell. They blamed it all on a single fox.
The last remnants of the Kamakiri clan journeyed in search of their lord—but found no trace of him.
It made no sense. How could he simply vanish?
Had he been killed in a clash with the Okawa clan as well?
There were no answers—only growing dread.
In the end, they sought refuge at the grand shrine of the goddess Ama. The shrine's priestesses could hardly believe their eyes. What had happened to House Kamakiri?
A strikingly beautiful little girl stepped forward, her unwavering gaze forcing even the priestesses to bow their heads.
A ritual was held to beseech the goddess Ama for salvation, aided by young priestesses. Murasaki and the others knelt again and again before the painted image of the goddess.
"Please, Goddess Ama, help us find our lord."
"Please punish the barbaric Okawa for defiling your sacred land."
"Please grant us vengeance."
"Please—"
Their prayers poured out endlessly, mingling with the priestesses' whispers.
Suddenly, one priestess convulsed violently. Black liquid poured from her eyes, nose, and mouth, sending waves of terror through the hall.
Had the goddess truly descended?
Her body shook even harder as thick, black fluid gushed from her mouth. Everyone rushed to restrain her. Only Murasaki stood there, frozen—her eyes innocent, utterly confused.
Then, without warning, lightning struck from nowhere. It tore through the roof and struck a Kamakiri servant, burning her to ash instantly.
The relentless string of horrors shattered what remained of Murasaki's composure.
She collapsed to the floor, numb.
At last, the convulsing priestess forced out words through black-stained lips.
"This… is not… coincidence… You… have defied… the goddess… This punishment… is deserved…"
With that, she died—leaving the shrine in a terrifying, unnatural silence. No one spoke.
Murasaki did not cry. She showed no emotion.
She stared at the ring in her hand for a long moment…then slipped it onto her middle finger.
It was so loose she had to clench her fist to keep it from falling. She stood up coldly.
"Let's go."
The others did not understand—but watched as the small princess walked out of the shrine. Sawada hurried after her, followed by the last survivors of the Kamakiri clan.
They left—and never once looked back.
---
Duyen felt as though she were drifting in a boundless, pitch-black void.
Just moments ago, she had been lying in Shana's arms—and then, all of a sudden, she was here. Everything that had just happened felt like a horrifying film reel, every memory forcing itself violently into her mind. There were too many of them, so many that she nearly went mad.
But then… it all stopped.
The only thing left was the faint echo of Shana's lullaby, drifting somewhere deep within her subconscious. A lullaby belonging to another Shana—one she had never known before.
She remembered now.
This was the beginning of everything.
And yet, a voice resonated within her mind.
"Not quite, my child," Luna's voice echoed softly. "You still have to keep going… to save Shana… to save us all…"
Wait.
Was that Luna's voice?
Duyen could hear her clearly, but she couldn't see her—nor could she move her own body. Then another voice rose, languid and intoxicating, like sweet wine poured into the ear.
"That fire fox… she left this girl's body here for me? What exactly does she expect me to do with this?" The voice was followed by a quiet sigh.
A woman appeared, draped in flowing robes tinted with a faint purple sheen. Her pale lavender hair floated lightly, as if untouched by gravity. Duyen couldn't see her face clearly—only a hazy gray obscurity where her features should have been. Even the way she moved was unnaturally graceful, as though she were gliding across clouds while stepping out of a ruined shrine.
When the woman looked down at Duyen, her voice softened.
"You owe me this time, foxie."
She reached into her own chest—into her heart—and placed something upon Duyen's body. A violet light bloomed, revealing a comma-shaped gemstone glowing gently. The woman smiled faintly.
"I'll see you again in the future, Duyen…"
Wait—
Duyen tried to reach out to her, but her body was suddenly yanked away, as if torn from the dream itself.
"Duyen?! Duyen?!"
"Duyen—!"
Voices called out desperately through the snowy night. A group of women, clad in fur-lined coats, weapons at their sides and blue-glowing lanterns in their hands, searched frantically for Duyen. Among them, the most anxious of all was Shana. She pushed forward relentlessly, ignoring the biting cold, tears streaming down her face.
Impossible. Why can't I feel her? Duyen… where are you?
If anyone dares lay a hand on my Duyen, I swear—
Shana pressed a hand to her own chest. Then, suddenly, a shout rang out.
"Lady Shigonami! Haru! We found Duyen! She's here!"
Shana froze for a split second—then launched forward without hesitation. In the blink of an eye, she reached the old windmill and the long-abandoned well beside it. Snow had completely buried the area; it was a place long unusable.
Duyen lay there, fast asleep, snow nearly covering her entire body.
Shana shoved everyone aside and rushed in. She brushed the fresh snow off Duyen's body before it could freeze solid, then pulled her tightly into her arms. Duyen was ice-cold, her face pale as death.
Panicking, Shana checked her pulse.
Still alive.
"Oh, Duyen…"
Relief flooded through her as she hugged her lover close, wrapping her entirely in her own cloak.
"It's okay, Duyen. You're okay now…"
Not only was Duyen unharmed—she was sleeping soundly, even smiling faintly, murmuring like a child lost in a pleasant dream. Shana felt all her fear drain away. She smiled foolishly, gazing at Duyen's gentle face.
Until Haru's voice snapped her back to reality.
"My lady—look at this!"
Shana lifted her head. In Haru's hand was a dango, unmistakably one they had made earlier that afternoon. Yet now it reeked of rot, black mold spreading across it as though it had been left untouched for an entire month.
The sight stunned everyone. This shouldn't have been possible—especially not in a place like the Mist Village.
But Shana knew exactly what it meant. Her eyes hardened with suspicion as she muttered,
"…Duyen wasn't alone here."
Instinctively, she looked up at the sky. The clouds thinned, revealing a cold, crescent moon.
---
The red four-seater sedan was completely wrecked, even though it had crashed onto a thick layer of fresh snow. Thankfully, it hadn't exploded—but what about the people inside?
Mina struggled to free her legs from the heavy snow that had poured into the overturned driver's cabin, limiting her vision. Summoning all her strength, she shook Yu awake. Yu lay unconscious on the snow, peaceful as a sleeping angel.
"Yu… Yu!"
Hearing her name, Yu's eyelids fluttered open. She jolted awake. Even for someone as emotionally detached as her, the situation was shocking enough to make her widen her eyes slightly.
She glanced at Mina.
Mina nodded weakly, then turned toward the back seat.
"Dao! Dao!"
"Can you hear me, Dao?!"
Dao finally snapped awake, instantly panicking.
"Oh my god! What happened?! What—what?!"
Mina sighed in relief. Dao was fine—just a few scrapes, and still just as clueless as ever.
Nayeon slowly lifted her head, groaning.
"…I feel like I just saw a ghost…"
Seeing that everyone was alive, Mina spoke quickly.
"The car's buried in snow. Help each other kick the doors open and get out before it freezes solid."
Yu immediately understood and nodded, while Dao still looked confused.
"Alright, okay everyone—on three!" Dao shouted.
Yu and Dao worked together, slamming their legs against the doors. After tremendous effort, both doors finally burst open, snow flooding in instantly. Yu crawled out first, narrowly avoiding being buried, then reached back and pulled everyone else free.
Dao rubbed her sore back once outside, turning to look at the car—so mangled it was barely recognizable. She then looked upward, far above where they had fallen from. Nothing was visible anymore.
Trembling, she whispered,
"Oh my god… I don't understand how we're still alive."
But Mina didn't care about such strange paradoxes—about how none of them were seriously injured after falling from such an impossible height.
She simply returned to the wrecked car and pulled out a suitcase filled with firearms, as if nothing had happened.
"Mina… look at this," Yu said quietly.
After securing her gun back into the holster on her chest, Mina walked over to Yu.
What they saw left them nearly speechless.
Before them stretched an endless field of white snow, with no sign of another soul. In the distance stood a vast forest, equally immense, shrouded in thick mist.
Reaching it was one thing—but without a car?
Were they supposed to walk all the way there?
And then—A streetlamp suddenly flickered on, as if emerging from nothingness.