[Opening Spread]
Rain falls over a quiet residential district.
Police lights flash red and blue across wet pavement.
A small house.
Windows blown outward.
Front door ripped from hinges.
No explosion scorch marks.
No fire.
Just destruction.
[Inside the House]
Furniture embedded into walls.
Walls cracked inward.
Not outward.
Picture frames shattered.
Glass scattered in circular patterns.
In the center of the living room—
A family of three.
Dead.
No visible stab wounds.
No gunshots.
Blood leaking from noses and ears.
Eyes burst from internal pressure.
[Narration Box]
Air does not leave fingerprints.
But it leaves patterns.
Detective Hayato Arashi stands over the bodies.
Mid-30s.
Calm face.
Tired eyes.
He doesn't flinch.
He kneels.
Examines the father's chest.
No puncture wounds.
But ribs collapsed inward.
He presses lightly against the sternum.
It caves deeper.
Crushed from the outside.
But there's no impact crater.
No blunt object trauma.
Forensics tech mutters:
"No forced entry."
"No explosives."
"No chemical residue."
Hayato stares at the shattered windows.
The glass fragments are embedded outward into trees.
But the walls caved inward.
That contradiction bothers him.
He whispers:
"…Opposing pressure."
The tech frowns.
"What?"
Hayato stands.
"Something increased air pressure inside the room rapidly."
"And something else stabilized outside."
The tech laughs nervously.
"That's not possible."
Hayato doesn't respond.
Because three years ago—
He saw something similar.
[Flashback Fragment — Hayato's Memory]
A car accident report.
His wife and daughter inside a vehicle.
No collision damage.
Windshield shattered outward.
Blood sprayed sideways across highway.
Autopsy report:
Severe pulmonary collapse.
Internal hemorrhaging consistent with decompression trauma.
Official cause:
"Unknown."
Unofficially:
Impossible.
[Back to Present]
Hayato stares at the bodies.
The way the blood moved.
The way the air feels heavy in the room.
He closes his eyes.
And for a second—
He feels it.
The faintest shift in pressure.
He opens them.
Nothing visible.
But something is here.
[Cut — Rooftop Across the Street]
Ryuto stands in shadow.
Watching.
He didn't cause this scene.
This wasn't him.
But he feels it.
The pressure distortion residue is sloppy.
Chaotic.
Not precise.
Whoever did this—
Forced pressure outward without control.
He narrows his silver eyes slightly.
Someone else is manipulating air.
Poorly.
[Mechanic Insight]
Ryuto senses remnants of unstable atmospheric compression.
Unlike his controlled planes and vectors—
This was brute force expansion.
Rapid increase in internal pressure without gradient control.
Result:
Rib collapse.
Capillary rupture.
Glass blown unevenly.
Amateur.
Dangerous.
Below—
Hayato steps outside.
Looks up briefly.
Wind brushes his coat.
For a fraction of a second—
His eyes align with Ryuto's silhouette.
He doesn't see clearly.
But he feels something.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Hayato mutters:
"…You were there."
Ryuto doesn't move.
The wind coils faintly.
He whispers to himself:
"…That wasn't me."
This is important.
He realizes.
He is not the only anomaly.
[Underground — Syndicate]
One of the surviving bounty hunters kneels before a hooded figure.
"You said he was the only one."
The hooded figure responds calmly:
"He is."
The survivor shakes.
"But the house incident—"
The hooded figure interrupts:
"That was not him."
Silence.
"…Then Phase Two has begun."
[Final Page]
Ryuto stands alone again.
Storm clouds building unnaturally fast.
He presses fingers against his chest.
The sigil flickers.
Not brighter.
Sharper.
He whispers:
"…Someone is forcing the atmosphere."
Behind him—
The storm-serpent's hollow eyes glow brighter than ever.
This time—
It turns its head toward the direction of the destroyed house.
Something is coming.
Black page.
AERION
End Chapter 5.