The air was sharp with the stink of iron and ash. Bats shrieked above, their wings a swarm of shadows blotting out what little light was left.
Fahrenheit stood tall in his long black coat, smirking, eyes glinting red like embers in a dying fire. His voice rang out smooth and cruel.
"You humans. Let's see how long your hearts last before they burst."
He snapped his fingers, and the swarm descended. Each bat's aura dripped a sickly haze that burned the lungs, a poison riding on the air itself.
Vera planted his trident hard into the ground.
"Not tonight, dumbass."
From the steel tips, water burst like veins splitting open, cascading and circling into a spinning wall. A dome of liquid rose around him, translucent, shivering like glass in a storm. The bats smashed against it, sizzling where toxic aura met water.
The swarm screeched, circling again.
Vera's eyes sharpened. He stepped forward, trident spinning in his grip.
A flick of Fahrenheit's wrist and blood floated upward, not from the enemy but from his own arm, from a shallow cut he'd made earlier. He spun it like threads of silk until it stretched wide. A crimson net, laced and sharp, forming an impossible weave. With a swing, he launched it.
Vera grinned, standing still as it cut the air toward him. At the last moment, the net shifted mid-flight, like it was alive, and veered straight toward Vera.
Vera jammed his trident into the floor again, another wall of water shooting up to guard him. The net sliced through the water effortlessly, threads gleaming brighter than steel. Vera braced for pain.
It phased right through him.
Vera's heart jolted. "What….?"
Then he felt it. Warmth. Wetness. He glanced down. Thin rivulets of blood seeped from his torso, arms, even his leg. His own blood, phasing through his skin, dripping into the threads of the net still tangled in the air.
He staggered a step back. "Tch"
Fahrenheit laughed, showing fangs. "Ah, you get it now. My little net hates flesh. It calls your blood. Yours wants to join mine."
Vera's grip tightened on the trident, his face calm but pale. He whispered, almost to himself, "Damn clever trick…."
Above, four bats managed to slip through the cracks of Vera's water wall. They slammed into his back, their claws tearing shallow wounds before dissolving into red mist.
The mist trailed back, merging into Fahrenheit's chest. His body shuddered, veins glowing briefly as the stolen blood knitted into his frame.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Fahrenheit exhaled, tilting his head like a predator enjoying the sight of prey weaken. "Every wound you take…. becomes my strength. Fight harder, boy. Make me stronger, starving for two days."
Vera winced, lowering one knee, but steadied himself. His voice was low, sharp.
"You think this'll scare me?"
He twisted the trident, and suddenly the water wall collapsed into countless droplets. Each droplet sharpened into a dart, hundreds of tiny blades of liquid suspended in the air, ready to fire.
Fahrenheit's grin faltered just for a second.
"You'll find," Vera said, pushing forward with measured calm, "water is harder to run from than blood."
At the same time, Tom ducked sideways, Sonia stepping from his own shadow, her hand grazing his neck. His vision blurred, heavy, like sleep was dragging him down.
"Shhh," Sonia whispered, her voice sweet, poisonous. "Close your eyes. Dreams are better than this ugly world."
Tom's pupils shrank. He twisted his wrist, and space itself bent behind him. The air warped in a tight rotation, snapping like a cord, forcing Sonia's reaching hand away. He tried to slam her with a spiral of compressed air, but she dissolved into smoke and reformed on the other side, smiling with crimson lips.
"Cute. But you're already tired," she teased. "I can smell it."
Tom steadied his breathing, shoulders tight. He could feel his own heartbeat loud in his ears. His voice came firm, not shaken.
"You're wrong. I'm just getting started."
Tom blinked once, and suddenly the bunker, the dirt, even the fire outside, all of it vanished.
He was standing in a gray plain. The ground stretched flat and endless, smooth like stone yet slippery as oil. Above, no sky, only a dome of shifting colors, melting and folding like liquid.
Sonia stood barefoot across from him, her lips curled in a smile too soft for the sharpness in her eyes.
"Welcome to my garden, boy."
Tom clenched his fists, breath heavy. His head felt smothered, the air syrup-thick. Every move weighed double.
"Where am I?" he muttered.
Sonia tilted her head, stepping closer without sound. "Of course it's real. You're in my dream and dreams," she whispered, her voice sliding behind his ear though she hadn't moved, "are stronger than your body."
The ground tilted. He stumbled back, shadows rising like walls. From those shadows came blades, dream-forged, sharp without edge. He twisted his wrist, spinning the space around him into a tight spiral. The blades snapped backward, crushed into fragments.
"Not bad," Sonia teased. "Let's see you last when the world itself wants you dead."
The plain quaked. A massive hand, stone and flesh mixed, erupted upward, reaching to crush him. Tom sprinted, rotating the ground beneath his feet, using the spin as momentum. He dashed sideways, barely escaping as the hand slammed down, splitting the land like cake with knife.
He turned, sweat dripping, but still stood tall. "Why? Why the hell are you people doing this?"
Sonia's speed was faster. Her smile faded into even more harder.
"The Lea Infra."
Tom's eyes widened. His stomach dropped, and for a second his focus slipped. "Lea Infra.…?" His voice cracked.
Sonia saw the break and lunged. Her arm stretched unnaturally, fingers clawing at his chest. He rotated the air sharply, snapping the joint's direction, throwing her off balance. She twisted midair, landing on her feet like a cat.
Her voice cut deeper. "We need it and we'll tear this world apart to take it. You think your campfire bonds, your silly faith in survival, can stop us?"
Tom's jaw tightened. He muttered low, but the fire in his tone held.
"If that's what you believe…. then you'll have to kill me first."
Sonia laughed. "Gladly, I will."
She snapped her fingers. The dome above shattered. Nightmares poured through faces without eyes, bodies stitched together, all crawling toward him. Tom's rotations pushed them back, but for every one he tore apart, two more surged forward.
His chest heaved. "This isn't helpful!"
A burst of green light split the dream. Mist rolled across the plain, carrying the scent of foxglove. A vixen in a flowing kimono padded gracefully beside Grace, her Face's eyes glowing bright.
"Sorry we're late," Grace said, stepping in front of Tom, calm but sharp. "Had to make sure you didn't die on us."
From behind, Rosario appeared, flipping his dagger "Omen" in one hand, his grin tilted sideways. "You really do love getting yourself into messes, don't you, kid?"
Tom exhaled, shoulders easing just a little. "Tch. It's about time."
Sonia hissed, her bracelets spinning wildly as the plain cracked again. Her voice echoed sharp, defiant.
"Three or three hundred, it makes no difference. You'll all drown in my dream."
Tom stood taller, the fear in his gut burned down to hotter. His voice carried, firm, cutting through the suffocating air.
"No. You'll wake up to a nightmare of your own."
The fight raged like a storm. Tom spun the air into spirals, Rosario cut through the dream walls with Omen, and Grace, her fox spirit beside her, sliced open patches of Sonia's nightmare. For a heartbeat, the three pressed together, forcing the vampire back.
A laugh rippled, not Sonia's but deeper, mocking alike. Fahrenheit's.
"Did you forget about me?"
The dream folded. In the blink of an eye, Fahrenheit's figure vanished Infront of Vera. Vera, still outside, spun his trident wildly, eyes scanning, but there was nothing.
"Where did he go!?" Vera barked, panic touching his usually calm tone.
Tom grit his teeth. His eyes darted, sweat stinging them. "He's not gone. You were fighting with his clone. The real Fahrenheit was pretending to be Sonia all this time...."
Fahrenheit's laughter resounded again, like a chorus of broken bells.
"War isn't about strength, children. It's about where you choose to cut."
Before anyone could react, Fahrenheit blurred out of the nightmare plain entirely. A cold silence replaced him.
....
Back in the real bunker.
The survivors were huddled together in the corner. Some prayed, some just shivered. A young girl, no more than six, clung to a cloth doll, its eye stitched crookedly. Her small frame trembled, eyes glossy with terror.
The shadows stretched as from them stepped out Sonia. Her clothes trailed over the floor. She smiled gently, almost motherly, crouching before the child.
"There, there…. why those tears, little one?" Her voice was sugar dipped in venom.
The girl burst into sobs, clutching her doll tighter. "Go away—go away!"
Sonia tried again, her tone bright but her eyes remained hollow.
"I can tell you a joke, hm? Want to hear one?" She wiggled her fingers, as though playing with invisible strings. "What's the difference between a butterfly…. and a cockroach?"
The survivors held their breath, too paralyzed to act.
Sonia leaned in, whispering. "People spread their hands to welcome the butterfly. But they throw sandals at cockroaches. It's all just looks, isn't it? Tell me, little one." she tilted her head, lips curling back, "Which one do you think I am?"
Her mouth widened unnaturally, fangs glinting. She gripped the child's head, tilting it as if inspecting fruit at a market. "Such a small skull.… it would crack easily."
The girl's wail pierced the bunker. Survivors flinched, some turning away, powerless.
Sonia opened her mouth wider, descending toward the child's head....
CLANG!
A chain wrapped her face mid-motion, grinding across her fangs. She shrieked, muffled, eyes snapping wide as she was yanked back violently. Her body flew across the room, smashing through the bunker wall. Dust flying all around.
The survivors gasped, some screaming. The girl sobbed louder, clutching her doll as if it were something precious.
Through the cloud of dust stepped Elior. His cloak swayed, his eyes burning not with rage but with unwavering resolve. The chain in his hand recoiled, rattling like a serpent ready to strike again.
He knelt before the little girl, brushing her hair back softly. His voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear.
"Shh. Tomorrow will be a good day. Stay alive, I won't let anyone die till dawn."
The girl blinked through tears, staring at him as if he were sunlight itself. Elior gave her a small smile, one that seemed carved from iron and tenderness both.
He rose, turning toward the others, voice booming now.
"Listen to me! Fear is their weapon. They thrive on it. Tonight, you are not prey. Not while I stand here!"
A trembling survivor spoke, voice breaking. "B-but.… what if we can't fight them?"
Elior's hand tightened on his chain, sparks of sand curling around his boots. "Then fight with your will. Keep each other alive. Because hope itself is a weapon that gives courage to move on, and despair is the bullets in them. Hold the balance."
The bunker seemed to still. Breath by breath, survivors nodded, some wiping tears, others clinging tighter to one another. Even the hopeless gained a stack of strength.
Elior turned back toward the shattered wall, his gaze sharp as steel. Sonia's silhouette floated outside, her head twisted unnaturally from the chain's pull.
Elior cracked his neck, his words were calm but edged.
"I made a promise and I don't break promises. Keeping promises is a part of Divinity."
He sprinted out, cloak trailing, chained-blades rattling like thunder behind him.
The survivors exhaled in shaky unison. The little girl hugged her doll close, whispering through her tears,
"Tomorrow…. will be a good.... day....?"