The flames had not yet faded when the eastern horizon turned red again.
Reiji stood on a half-collapsed overpass, the air trembling from the shockwaves rolling across Kurogane. Below, what had once been a district of industry was now a graveyard of twisted steel and burning glass. The night reeked of ozone and death.
Kaede's voice hissed through his earpiece. "Another Cerberus unit just deployed near the river. They're burning everything between Sector 7 and the hospital. Civilians are still trapped."
Her voice cracked with static and fear. "Reiji, if you're going to do something, do it now."
He didn't answer at first. The rain had begun again—thin, cold, merciless. It washed the blood from his hands but not from his memory.
He opened his palm. The data chip Haru had given him glimmered faintly under the faint light of a ruined billboard.
Inside it lay truth—the kind that could fracture the last illusion of order.
He slipped it into the comm-link on his wrist. The projection flickered to life: encrypted files, military directives, black seals of the Court. One phrase repeated in the header—"Operation Ash Fall."
Target: All remaining Shadows and civilians associated with Project Raven.
Command authority: The High Council.
Reiji exhaled slowly. They're purging their own ghosts.
The distant rumble of engines snapped him back. Searchlights carved through the smoke. A gunship roared overhead, firing into the ruins where survivors screamed.
Reiji's jaw tightened. "Kaede," he said quietly, "patch me through to the northern comms. I need eyes on the Cerberus pilot."
"I can try—but the signal's jammed. They're using spectral interference."
"Then I'll cut through manually."
He reached into his coat, pulling out a shard of cracked tech—a Shadow-link, obsolete and illegal. It hummed weakly, reacting to the residual frequencies of the enemy's network.
Kaede gasped through the line. "That's suicide. That thing will fry your cortex if it misfires."
"Then it'll be quick."
He pressed the shard against his temple. The world blurred, the smoke twisting into streaks of static and light. Voices screamed in his head—memories not his own, transmissions overlapping, commands and screams bleeding together.
Through the haze, a single signal stabilized: Unit 02 – Cerberus, callsign: Vega.
Female voice, tone cold, controlled.
"Target designated as Shadow-1. Engaging with full authorization."
Reiji's pulse steadied. "Vega," he muttered, eyes narrowing. He knew that name too.
Captain Arisa Kanzaki—the strategist who once commanded his infiltration unit, before she betrayed them to the Court.
The ground shook as the second Cerberus descended like a god of fire. The machine's armor gleamed black and crimson, its faceplate shaped like a wolf's skull. Around it, drones swarmed in formation, scanning every ruin.
Reiji drew his blade—the whispering steel shimmered faintly, resonating with the storm. He leapt from the overpass into the smoke below.
The impact jarred his bones, but he rolled and rose instantly. The mech's sensors locked onto him. A line of red light danced across his chest.
Then the world exploded.
The first barrage leveled three buildings, the shockwave throwing him through a wall. He hit the ground hard, vision white with pain.
Through the roar, he heard her voice echo through the speakers:
"You should've stayed buried, Reiji. You're fighting ghosts and lies."
He coughed, spitting blood, pushing himself up. "And you sold your soul for silence."
Arisa's laughter came sharp and mechanical. "I sold it for survival."
She fired again, missiles streaking like falling stars. Reiji sprinted through the alley, every explosion swallowing the one before it. The air burned his lungs. He dove behind a broken transport, fingers finding a pulse grenade.
He counted the rhythm of her fire—one, two, pause—then hurled the grenade.
The blast erupted against the mech's flank, bursting in a surge of EMP energy. The lights on its chest flickered. For two precious seconds, its sensors went blind.
Reiji ran.
He scaled the side of a leaning tower, boots slipping on rain-slick glass. The city blurred beneath him. He reached the top as the mech's systems rebooted, red eyes flaring again.
He jumped.
The wind tore at him. He fell toward the cockpit, sword reversed in his grip. The whispering blade met steel—and pierced through. Sparks and screams erupted in the same instant.
He landed on the mech's shoulder, driving the blade deeper. But this one was stronger. The machine twisted violently, throwing him off balance. He hit the ground, rolled, barely dodged a crushing footstep that shattered concrete beside him.
From inside, Arisa's voice hissed, half pain, half rage. "You think you can still save anyone? You're the reason this city burns!"
Reiji's answer was a silent swing—precise, deadly. The sword's edge tore through a joint, severing armor plates. The mech faltered again. He moved in, fluid, relentless.
But then—the cockpit opened.
Through the rising smoke, he saw her face. Arisa Kanzaki—older, harder, her eyes gleaming with something between hatred and regret.
"End it, Reiji," she said, her weapon trembling. "You owe me that much."
The rain poured harder, drumming against metal and skin.
He raised his blade, but hesitated. For a heartbeat, they were just soldiers again, ghosts of a war that had never ended.
Then the bullet came—not from her, but from the ridge behind her.
Her body jerked. Blood bloomed like a red flower on her chest.
Reiji spun, scanning the smoke. A third silhouette stood among the wreckage—a figure in full Shadow armor, visor glowing white.
Kaede's horrified voice crackled through the comm. "Reiji… that's not Cerberus. That's one of ours."
The figure spoke, voice distorted. "Orders from above. All liabilities must be purged."
He raised his weapon again.
Reiji's eyes went cold. The hesitation vanished.
He moved faster than sound.
The shot missed by inches as his blade found the man's throat. The impact sent both spinning through the rain. The Shadow's visor cracked, revealing a face he almost recognized—another soldier from their vanished past. The betrayal burned deeper than any wound.
When the last motion stilled, Reiji stood alone again, surrounded by the dead—enemy and ally alike. Smoke drifted upward like souls escaping.
He looked down at Arisa's body. Her lips moved once. "They'll come for you all… even the ones who obey."
Then her eyes dimmed.
Kaede's voice trembled. "Reiji… what happened?"
He sheathed his blade, voice low. "The war's not between the Court and the Shadows anymore. It's between those who still remember—and those who want to erase it all."
The rain fell harder. The firelight dimmed, leaving only the quiet hiss of dying embers.
Reiji turned toward the northern skyline, where distant thunder rolled like drums of judgment.
Each step he took left faint ripples in the puddles—echoes of a man walking through the ashes of everything he once believed.
And above him, the smoke began to twist, forming the faint outline of wings in the storm.
The world was changing again.
And the shadows were no longer silent.