Wura
The leaves rustled, wood cracked under the assault of unexpected chaos. The monstrous caterpillar, thought to have been defeated moments ago, regenerated into two distinct entities. Without hesitation, Marie lunged forward, cleaving them apart with the precision of her sharpened blade. But to her shock, the same phenomenon repeated—and soon the creature split into a myriad of new monsters.
— He's tough, this Iblis… Marie muttered, brushing her hand across the monster's head. — Get back if you don't want to get hurt… Things are about to get serious!
Ciel grabbed Wura's wrist to pull her away from danger. But Wura jerked her hand free, her eyes blazing with reproach.
— You really think I didn't understand what you were getting at? she snapped.
— Wura, this isn't the time, Ciel replied, trying to calm her down.
— I don't care! You always choose to run away. You'd rather abandon me when I need you most.
— I thought you understood when you apologized… Ciel's voice shook. But no. You only ever look at yourself—you never consider what I feel…
Wura froze, stunned by her words.
— How can you say that? You're my best friend!
— That's what I thought too. But a true friend shouldn't hold me back from trying to grow, even if it's far from her. You have your adoptive mother… Me? I have no one. The world is too vast to stay still, and if you refuse to change, then I'll fight to defend who I am—even if it means leaving you behind.
With those words, Ciel slowly turned her back and ran toward Miss Marie.
Her friend's words struck Wura like a volley of arrows, leaving a bitter taste in her heart.
Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her cry. Alarmed, Ciel and Marie spun around. Regaining her senses, Wura struck her attacker hard with her staff, drawing a grunt before he let go.
— What have I done to deserve heaven's wrath? she murmured, bitterness mingling with pain.
She struck again and again, and when she turned, a terrible sight seized her: a crimson cross on a black cassock. A Purifier.
And then she remembered. The strangers in her living room. The black and scarlet uniforms. The blood. It had all begun with the Purifiers' arrival.
— Ciel, don't intervene, she said, brandishing her staff. This fight is mine.
Ciel nodded, her expression worried.
With a roar, Wura charged. The man swung his sword, but she struck relentlessly, lashing out for all the grief and anger bottled inside.
Each blow was the embodiment of her fate, of the guilt that had eaten away at her for far too long.
And with each strike, a spark of understanding pierced her mind: she was Gifted.
For years, she had hidden, burying herself in Ciel's friendship to avoid the weight of her mistakes—the tragedy that had taken her parents' lives, the curse of her amber eyes.
She had wished to erase it all, to free herself from the shame that suffocated her.
At last, her assailant collapsed to the ground, defeated. Wura stood over him for a moment, panting heavily.
Just as she turned to leave, Ciel leapt forward, intercepting a strike meant for her.
Her staff elongated into a crimson weapon, blazing with energy, revealing that she too bore the burden of being Gifted.
The conflict between them was replaced by an even greater tension when, in the distance, a monstrous creature surged from a cloud of darkness: a colossal ram demon, massive and terrifyingly swift.
Before Wura could react, the beast lunged from behind and hurled Ciel into the void.
The Purifier, seizing the chaos, fled.
Every second counted to save her friend. Wura reached out, and in a flash of energy, her hand transformed into a golden extension that locked against Ciel's crimson one. In a burning contact, Wura pulled Ciel back to safety.
The two girls stared at each other for a long moment, exhausted, their eyes silently trading pain and resilience.
Meanwhile, Marie had caught up to the fleeing Purifier and finished him off. With his death, the creatures he had summoned dissolved into darkness.