[Third Person PoV]
As the stacks of books began to move on their own, they twisted and folded into monstrous, hulking shapes made entirely of paper and leather. Their bindings creaked like bones, pages fluttering like wings as they rose higher and higher. Clark's fists ignited in bright orange flames, and he propelled himself into the air, circling the trio with blazing trails behind him. He flew in tight arcs, carving a fiery ring into the floor until a perfect circle of blackened scorch marks surrounded them.
"Whatever you do," Clark began to warn them, "do not step outside that circle. Stay close—otherwise, it'll be harder for me to protect you!"
The three sisters nodded quickly, their eyes darting between the writhing book monsters and the scorch marks enclosing them. Clark landed just in front of them, his boots scraping against the floor. The tight white fabric of his shirt clung to his back, muscles flexing as he drew his arms back and slammed his fists together. Sparks of ember burst out like fireworks, illuminating the sweat on his temples. He waved one hand forward, gathering the scattered embers into his palm until they condensed into a single, massive orb of living fire.
Ichika turned toward Miku and Nino, her eyes wide and her jaw practically dropping as she mouthed, 'Woah!' exaggeratedly, motion towards Clark's back.
Nino caught the look and smirked, her cheeks tinting pink, while Miku frowned and shook her head, mouthing, 'Not the time.' Still, her own face betrayed a hint of rosy color as well.
Meanwhile, Clark steadied his stance, bracing one arm under the other as he held the swirling fireball between his fingers. The orb pulsed with a heartbeat-like rhythm before he flicked his wrist and hurled it toward the first charging creature made of books and pages.
The explosion that followed shook the entire floor. A wave of heat and light swept through the room, scattering embers like a rain of molten stars. Clark flipped over the sisters midair and landed in front of another monster, swinging his arms in wide, fluid arcs. With every punch, whips of fire shot out, scorching everything in their path.
The sisters stayed within the circle, huddled close together but constantly turning their heads to follow Clark's blazing movements. He darted around them like lightning, sliding, jumping, spinning—his every motion trailed by ribbons of fire.
A massive cube of books hurtled toward them, flying so fast the air itself screamed. Clark pivoted, one hand behind his back, the other raised like a blade. With a single downward slash, the cube split in two, burning edges slicing through the air as both halves flew past the sisters on either side.
Before the echo of the impact faded, Clark was already gone from sight—only to reappear a heartbeat later as his flaming fist punched clean through the chest of a humanoid monster. The creature's body burst apart, crashing into several others before Clark unleashed a molten stream of lava from his palm. The liquid fire spread across the floor, melting paper and ink into glowing rivers.
From above, another monster lunged down toward them. Clark jumped, twisting his body in midair until he became a blazing ring of fire. His spinning kick connected with the creature's torso, sending it crashing backward through shelves and into a shower of burning pages that rained down like fiery snow.
He landed roughly in front of them. Miku instinctively stepped in front of Nino and Ichika, shielding them so they wouldn't see Clark's face and guess his identity, though the others quickly pushed past her to watch what came next, unwilling to miss even a second.
Clark was already moving again. He clenched his fists, fire bursting out of his arms like hot thrusters. Then, in one continuous motion, he began to spin—faster and faster—until his entire body became a blur of red and gold. The flames coiled around him, feeding on his momentum until he was no longer a man but a storm of pure fire.
Everywhere he spun, the monsters were torn apart, shredded by the blazing vortex. The growing whirlwind of heat and light expanded outward, surrounding the sisters at its center. Books, shelves, and broken monsters were sucked into the inferno and disintegrated instantly, leaving behind only ash.
The three girls stood at the heart of the storm, the eye of the inferno. The circle of fire towered around them, roaring like a living beast. The flames painted their faces in hues of gold and scarlet, their hair rippling from the waves of heat.
"Amazing…" Nino whispered, her voice trembling in awe as she gazed upward.
They stood drenched in sweat, their hearts pounding, but none of them cared. Within that blazing wall, they felt something beyond mere heat—they felt safety. Warmth. Strength. For the first time since the chaos began, they truly believed nothing could touch them inside Clark's circle of fire.
Clark stepped back into the protective circle, the last remnants of his blazing tornado fading into drifting embers. The air shimmered from the residual heat. He dropped to one knee, fists pressing to the ground, bracing his weight as smoke hissed up from where his knuckles touched the scorched floor. His hair hung forward, shadowing most of his face, sweat and ash clinging to the strands.
"Clark! Are you okay!?" Miku called out, her voice laced with worry. For a moment, she forgot that his injuries were often more performance than pain—that his exhaustion was rarely real.
Clark exhaled hard, keeping up the act as he hunched over. "I'm fine… just… dizzy and out of breath…" His tone was ragged, convincing enough that even Sol might've bought it. "The fire barrier won't last long. I just need a minute to catch my breath…"
"Sol," he whispered sharply under his breath.
"Sixty seconds until complete analysis… fifty-nine… fifty-eight…" came the mechanical, calm voice in his ear.
Clark let out what sounded like a heavy, weary sigh—but it wasn't exhaustion. It was irritation. "Great timing, as always," he muttered under his breath, just low enough that the sisters didn't hear.
Ichika hesitated, wringing her hands nervously. "Clark… you're not pushing yourself too much, are you?"
He raised his head slightly, his bangs still covering his glowing blue eyes. "It's fine," he said quietly, his voice calm but resolute. "I promised I'd find a way out within five minutes… and that's exactly what I'm going to do."
As he spoke, the bandages around his forearms began to stir—twitching and unwinding on their own like living things. The red wrappings snaked upward, coiling around his biceps, winding across his shoulders, and climbing his neck. In moments, they had wrapped around the lower half of his face, forming a crimson mask that flickered faintly with inner heat. The transformation gave him a demonic, almost otherworldly presence, like a spirit of vengeance wrapped in fire.
At the same time, the towering flames that had surrounded them began to shrink, the raging inferno gradually compressing until only thin walls of fire remained. The temperature dipped slightly, though the air still vibrated with lingering energy.
Thanks to the mask, his disguise—the illusion that maintained his "Clark" identity—snapped back into place. The hypnotic distortion shimmered subtly around his face, keeping his true form hidden. His hair fell across his brow, the faint glow of his eyes barely visible beneath it, burning with ethereal blue light.
The final sparks of the fire barrier died out with a low hiss. Clark straightened, spinning lightly on his heel, and drew in a deep breath. Then, as he exhaled, an enormous torrent of flame erupted from his mouth, sweeping across the battlefield in a magnificent arc. The gust of his supercharged breath fanned the inferno into a blazing tide that devoured everything in its path—books, paper, debris—all reduced to cinders within seconds.
He moved his head slowly from side to side, controlling the spread of the fire like a living weapon. To the sisters, it was a breathtaking sight—like watching a dragon breathe fire as a warning while it guards its prized possessions, its flames bending and flowing by his will.
As Clark guided the flames, Sol's voice chimed softly through the comm again, crisp and calm amid the chaos. "Five… four… three… two… one. Ding! Structural analysis of the Dimensional Space completed. Fast-forwarding data report…"
Clark froze mid-motion. His head snapped slightly to the side, a visible twitch forming near his jaw. He turned sharply, eyes flashing as he shouted, "What is the matter with you three?!"
The sudden roar in his voice startled all of them. Fire burst from the sides of his mask as he spoke, making his words look like they were literally burning out of him.
"W-What do you mean?" Miku stammered, her voice shaking.
Clark pointed at them with a fiery finger, his patience snapping. "You three—you're the ones who created this dimensional space! You're the ones who brought this whole mess into existence! This entire Amasogi came from you!"
"U-Us?!" Nino sputtered in disbelief, taking an involuntary step back. "How could we have created something like this?!"
"Y-Yeah!" Ichika chimed in, flustered and pale. "We didn't do anything wrong! What even is an Amasogi anyway!?"
Clark pinched the bridge of his nose with his gloved fingers, a plume of smoke rising from the heat of his touch. "Unbelievable…" he muttered before exhaling through his nose. The fires around them softened, dimming enough for him to speak clearly. "Alright, listen closely. I don't have time to repeat this."
He straightened and began pacing in slow, deliberate steps. "An Amasogi is a type of Tsukumogami—a spirit born from an object that's gained awareness through spiritual energy or prolonged human influence."
Miku's eyes widened slightly. "A Tsukumogami? I've heard of those…" she said softly, recalling her research after that terrifying encounter years ago. "Aren't they just old household objects that gain a soul after a hundred years or so?"
Clark nodded. "That's the consensus. The common understanding. But what most people don't know is that Tsukumogami come in two forms." He lifted two fingers, the firelight flickering over the red bandages on his hand. "The first kind are Tsugumomo—objects that gained life through human care and spiritual resonance. Harmless, for the most part. But then…"
His voice darkened. "…there's the other kind. Amasogi. They're not born from time, but from emotion. They form when an object—or a place—absorbs a powerful human desire, wish, or obsession. The stronger the feeling, the faster it manifests. Anger, regret, jealousy… even longing."
The girls looked at each other, speechless.
Clark's glowing eyes narrowed beneath his hair. "So whatever desire or emotion was swirling in your empty, impulsive heads infected this library. You turned it into a living construct—a distorted, infinite space that feeds on that very desire." He folded his arms, his voice cutting like a blade.
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