08 / 07 / 2018, 15:26 - Tuesday, Embryonic Domain, Valshaviere.
A serene field stretched out, swaying with short grass and winding hills. Rivers glinted faintly, reflecting the soft, cold light above. A gentle wind whispered through the air, rustling the grass, yet it carried no warmth. There was no sun, only a false sky, a frozen canvas of glittering starlight suspended in stillness.
Towering black obsidian monuments rose from the ground like sharp, jagged swords. They were trophies, yet also gravestones, reminders of how far he had come. The dead here were nourishment: their bones fertilized the soil, their blood endowed the plants with potency, and their weapons would be wielded again to slay future enemies. Their records were stepping stones, proof of his presence, perhaps someday even Death itself would be inscribed among them.
Scattered across the plains were temples and pagodas, peeking from valleys and hilltops. Each was a repository of knowledge, a vessel for his thoughts, momentary enlightenments, wells of power, and caches of weapons, the spoils of battles fought, carrying his will to strike further.
In this peaceful, eternal heaven, Aldean sat in seiza atop the swaying grass, meditating. His eyes were closed, still, calm. He wore a kimono and hakama; the outer jacket, red as blood, sprinkled with pink petals, contrasted with the inner layers and the dark, pleated skirt, as black as the night itself. His figure blended seamlessly with the landscape, silent like a statue, as if one with the domain itself.
Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. The familiar gray of his eyes was gone, replaced by the sight of cosmos. His gaze narrowed, reflecting entire star systems and the ordered motion of distant suns.
Vibrations rippled through the field. Something foreign forced its way into the established system. Filaments of energy twisted, displaced, rerouted. Strange rules and unfamiliar energies pressed in from the edges.
A rift opened in space near the sun. At the same time, a distant paradise shimmered as a shadowy mirage, floating in the void. Both anomalies were cautious, seemingly in silent communication.
"As expected… so it has really come," Aldean murmured, his tone cold but laid-back. He shifted his gaze toward one of the black-armored figures, a Knight; he recalled the past confrontations.
"Heh… a little difficult to analyze," he thought. "One of his powers, or a symbolism, blocks my understanding, combined with the sneak attack from before. But conclusions can still be drawn."
Paths reflected their nature, their essence. Each appeared unique, yet none strayed far from their core traits. Surviving them required more than strength; it demanded insight, an understanding of what their power truly meant.
Diminish. In no sense of purpose or meaning, you are weakening, constantly on the border of nothing. Your very self decomposes with every moment. You seek meaning, and also its destroyer, don't you?
And that rift of space, by no means is it some small realm or trivial speck.
Based on my understanding, it should be a Realm akin to the Course of Filament that threads through Reality itself.
As he reconfirmed the fragmented memory, his gaze shifted to the other figure. His expression moved from indifference to a hint of repressed anger and disgust.
An ambiguous face, neither wholly woman nor wholly man. Long magenta hair, closed eyes, as if stepping out of a painting. Its very existence was a concept: beauty and desire incarnate.
This one is more of a hassle… more trouble. Why are you still alive, bastard? A disgusting piece of existence.
I will make sure to completely kill you when the chance presents itself, scatter your ashes into the depths of nothingness.
An existence with one purpose only: to hollow and corrode the world. A cancer. An enchanter. Formless, constantly shifting its body to gain power, taking them one by one: desire, pleasure, mirage, consuming and luring countless creatures to feast upon its flesh.
To think such a creature dares to stir my desire and project a mirage of Mirea.
As his thoughts began to stray, consumed by hatred, Aldean snapped back as they moved.
The magenta-haired one drifted closer to Earth, pausing at the Moon, overlooking, seemingly preparing something.
The Knight drew his sword from the void—a long, straight blade, gathering power. Blackish and silvery auras rose and condensed along its edge.
He turned toward the Sun, stance firm. Both hands gripping the hilt. Then, with a horizontal slash, he tore a vast rift across half the Sun's surface.
The rift brimmed with rich silver light, but beneath it, a darkness, a shadow. On the horizon, a black spherical vortex hung silently, filling the vision after the light subsided. Debris, silhouettes of worlds, creatures, and even civilizations were suspended and drawn into its axis for eternity.
Then the light surged, like an explosion, spreading in waves. It swept over nearby planets and swallowed Earth in its silver glow.
Having done this, he turned his back again to the rift above the Sun. Silently suspended, sword pointing down before his chest, his mission complete.
Meanwhile, the magenta-haired figure, bathed in silver-white light, opened its hands wide as though to embrace the world. A mirage of paradise unfurled behind it.
On Earth, cracks split open and a flood of creatures rained down.
Watching this, Aldean mobilized his Authority of Layer, shifting the cracks in space to ensure his own and his family's safety. He also masked his location, scrambling the coordinates, plunging entire continents or countries into chaos and hellholes.
What do they want? Do they think these little tricks could lure me out? Those silver waves might sting a little, but these creatures? Ants. Do they want to annoy me?
No. Thinking again, the one who makes the grand move shouldn't be the one appearing weak. So it's the Knight? What will he do if he stays back? Thinking this sissy could hold me? Aldean scoffed.
Hah, we'd better hold back our reins. I'm not foolish enough to jump around like a monkey. If I can win by sacrificing fodder to consume them, why should I even appear? Though… maybe that being will hunt me instead of chasing away this invader. After all, this is its own body, its own universe.
Still calm and indifferent, he let a playful remark echo in his mind.
And… how arrogant they are, to think this is their home turf. Even the dragon at my level wouldn't tread here carelessly. This universe alone carries energy equal to the one leves above me. Do they truly think it will simply watch them in silence?
Then, thoughts of his family surfaced, their faces passing through his mind one by one. His expression hardened, his posture straightening as resolve settled into him.
If things go smoothly, there's no need to show myself. Just take them, leave for some distant planet. We can escape into the Truth Side, or even another universe, if needed. Just a little more time. A little more time…
As for the rest, I'll think of it later. But if the worst ever comes—
With a flick of his wrist, an object appeared in his hand: shaped like an egg, no larger than a human head, yet seeming to hold something infinite. Translucent light swirled within it, golden streams folding like rivers.
Beneath those shifting waters coiled a serpent with no end, looping upon itself endlessly, sleeping, yet vast. As its eyelid trembled, the domain around him warped and disassociated, bleeding into reality outside. Half of all ongoing motions turned chaotic and random:
Creatures slipped and fell; some lunged at trees, mistaking them for prey. Buildings crumbled without warning. A fleeing man tumbled backward instead of forward. Heads bent at odd angles. Clouds blinked out of place, teleported away. Countless small impossibilities unfolded at once.
Aldean, unconcerned, still held the egg and watched the sleeping serpent. He knew it would not harm him. It had chosen someone to protect and nurture it, a favor repaid for a favor.
"Maybe this is better for you, Akane," he murmured. "You've been chosen. The Dragon Emperor will answer you." Fatigue crept into his eyes, but his voice remained steady. "I will protect what is mine. Even if I die… I will not fail again. Never."
As time passes away in a moment, he then shifts his gaze away to some place… reflecting the figure of three children who tread away in chaos.
---
08 / 07 / 2018, 16:14 - Tuesday, Nakagawa First Elementary School.
Drip… drip… a steady, hollow rhythm echoed in the void of darkness.
A red door stood ajar, a narrow gap through which the blood leaked, seeping across the floor of this unknown space, the crimson liquid spread across the endless dark sea.
The white door remained shut, pristine as ever, untouched and unyielding, a boundary that still could not be crossed at this moment.
And then the third, white with intricate patterns of gold and grey, shifted imperceptibly. Inch by inch, it creaked open, unrestrained. The motion was subtle, yet deliberate, like a slow heartbeat counting down.
Focused eyes might notice the door moving on its own, signaling an inevitable choice, a predestined outcome inching closer. A shadow flickered at its edge, golden light spilling forth, flowing like choices with no return.
What will you choose?, faint echoes from beyond the door.
---
Then all things crumbled. Akane snapped awake, eyes wide, cold sweat running down his temple.
"Haah… haah…"
He blinked rapidly, unsure of reality. Even with his eyes closed, the image of that door lingered in his vision, stubborn and insistent.
After a few steadying breaths, he calmed himself, though a deep helplessness remained, as if he truly had a choice, but it was just out of reach.
The classroom was silent. Shadows stretched across the floor and walls, bathed in the grey light pouring from the shattered window.
Somewhere in the distance, a soft scraping echoed across the hard floor. Something, or someone, was in the hallway. Perhaps a hiding student, perhaps a teacher, dormant and praying for rescue, unaware if it would come. All this silence… wasn't this just a farce?
Akane turned, scanning the room. Irina slept, resting her head on Ayato's shoulder as they dozed side by side. He shook his head slightly, sensing something, then walked over, ducking to gently rock their shoulders.
"Wake up, Nii-san. Irina-chan… we should get going," he said softly. Gradually, they stirred, blinking themselves awake.
"Pull yourselves together," Akane added, taking a bag from the corner. Each was filled with supplies. He handed them over while they still rubbed their eyes.
"All right, all right, I know," Ayato said, stretching as he regained some energy and lifted his bag. "I'll scout ahead, use my senses, you can rely on me."
"And me? I should use my sense of timing, right?" Irina slung her bag over her shoulder. "I can handle it!"
Once ready, they took their positions. Ayato led, Irina followed, and Akane brought up the rear.
Peering into the corridor, Akane focused his senses. The surroundings were unnaturally silent. He closed his eyes, letting sight become redundant, maximizing the flow of information through touch, sound, and instinct.
"There should be two upstairs, and one near the front gate," he murmured to Akane, "The hallways seem safe for now."
The three moved quietly through the abandoned corridors, their footsteps barely disturbing the silence. The grey sky filtered through broken windows, casting elongated shadows that flickered over toppled chairs and scattered books. Dust and debris swirled in the faint breeze, carrying with it the distant echoes of chaos from outside.
Ayato led, his senses straining to detect even the smallest anomaly, the faintest vibration of the floor, a ripple of sound through the air. Yet as the space opened into the gymnasium, his concentration faltered. The vast, empty room amplified every sound, every shift in the air, and his spatial sense wavered. A shadow slid across the far wall, and he froze.
Irina's sharp eyes caught it instantly. She tugged at his sleeve, silent, precise, pointing just in time for him to step back behind a fallen mat. A creature had prowled the edge of the room, its claws clicking against the wooden floor. Without her intervention, they would have been spotted.
Akane observed them both, noting Ayato's momentary lapse but also recognizing Irina's instinctual compensation.
There is still a limitation after all, glad that we could discover it so soon. he thought, his calm mind measuring, analyzing, and storing.
He allowed himself a fleeting smile; this was learning, imprinting the boundaries of their abilities into their very bodies.
"Focus, just do it at your own pace, let Irina lead you," Akane whispered, not loud enough for the wind to carry. "Each step, each sound. Stay calm."
Ayato nodded, flushing with guilt, and averted his gaze. Akane placed a hand on his shoulder, subtle but assuring. We all carry responsibility and know the stakes well.
They pressed on, slipping through narrow corridors and shattered doorways. Occasionally, distant screams or the dull thud of destruction reminded them that monsters were still hunting. They avoided open spaces when possible, ducking behind overturned desks, creeping along shadowed walls, and timing their movements with the faintest environmental cues: a falling tile, a distant shout, even the echo of their own breathing.
Irina continued to scan relentlessly, her head tilting to catch imperceptible shifts, warning when Ayato's perception missed a step. Together, under Akane's direction, they moved like a single machine, precise and calculated.
By the time the outskirts of the school grounds came into view, the siblings' pace had slowed, not from fatigue, but from vigilance. The last thing is the crucial step; one should not be complacent. Yet despite the tension, they had already passed more than half the distance to home.
The world doesn't forgive hesitation. And with that, he pressed forward, the grey light above them still indifferent, the ruins of their school a fleeting memory as they advanced through the empty streets.
---
The streets were narrow, winding between low-rise apartment blocks and shuttered shops, many with shattered windows or walls scorched from earlier chaos. Faint smoke curled from overturned vehicles, and small flames flickered in the shadows. The smell of blood drifted in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of burnt asphalt. Corpses, humans, police, and even soldiers lay scattered in disarray.
"That fast…?" Akane muttered under his breath, scanning the street for any trace of the creatures. He nudged a fallen soldier's body, gesturing for Ayato and Irina to search quickly.
A handgun lay in the side pocket, a military knife, and two clips of bullets. Akane assessed them silently. The gun will make noise without a silencer… the knife is safer, but who expects kids to fight these monsters? He handed the knife to Ayato and the gun to Irina. Confused, they obeyed without question.
"These are for defense, not decoration," Akane whispered. "Monsters… or humans. Use them if you must."
Ayato led the way carefully, his senses stretching across the street, scanning every shadow and debris pile. A distant crash froze him, a twisted metal beam buckling under weight. Irina tugged his sleeve, pointing silently toward a toppled vending machine. He nodded and adjusted his path.
The avenue ahead opened up, wider and more exposed. Debris forced them into a zigzag pattern, every step deliberate. Gunfire and shouting echoed in the distance; the police had arrived, but chaos still reigned, and the creatures dominated. Their roars reverberated between buildings, shaking loose tiles and glass.
Ayato faltered, momentarily overwhelmed by the open space and the sheer number of monsters. Irina's hand steadied his arm, her eyes scanning rooftops and alleyways.
"Left side… behind that pile. Ten seconds," she whispered sharply, pointing.
Without hesitation, Ayato shifted their path. They moved as one, weaving past the pile just in time, a few feet from where a creature had prowled moments before.
Terrifying… Akane thought, pride and awe mixed in his chest. She's still human, not yet a hatchling… yet this precision?
They continued down shadowed alleyways, crossing half-destroyed pedestrian bridges and weaving through streets littered with overturned cars and fallen signs. Occasionally, they glimpsed survivors, some frozen in terror, others attempting to fight, but they never lingered, never allowed themselves to be distracted.
A pile of debris rattled under unseen weight. Akane motioned for silence. "Stay low… keep moving."
By the midpoint of their journey, the cityscape had transformed into a war-torn maze. Streets twisted into jagged corridors of rubble, smoke, and shadow. Their breaths were steady but measured; muscles ached, yet their minds remained sharp. They had adapted, moving as one under Akane's quiet guidance and their own instincts.
"Good," Akane whispered, his eyes scanning the skyline. "We're halfway. Keep focused."
Irina nodded subtly. Ayato clenched the knife in his hand, regaining composure. Together, they slipped through the maze of ruin, silent yet ever vigilant, ready for the next obstacle the city or its horrors might throw at them.
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