The world had lost its color. Even the air felt heavier, as if laden with the weight of all recent losses. It had been weeks since the disappearance of Mei, Aisha, and Akira. Tenklyn had died a brutal, empty death, as if fate had plucked him from the board without ceremony, denying him a final breath. I am Levi. Former Sif. Former companion to Mei. And what I behold today is not a world at war. It is a world in mourning.
I am no longer that idealistic warrior who believed in justice and redemption. Today, I serve the Emerald Gate Alliance, an ancient and discreet force from Japan, always counted among the most loyal to the Sifs. Now, we are but shadows of what we once were. But we are still alive.
My day begins before sunrise. I study routes, coordinate informants, send coded messages to our allied companies scattered across Asia, Europe, and South America. I observe. I take notes. I analyze.
And what I see is horrifying. The Reapers are more organized than ever. They have split into brigades: Ember, Frigid, Blood, and Echo. Each specializes in a different kind of macabre operation. They are collecting negative energy in spiritual concentration camps. Children, adults, the elderly—it does not matter. As long as they are saturated with pain, fear, and despair, they serve their dark purposes.
They drain this essence with ancient, cursed artifacts and store it in black towers erected in ruined cities. I saw one of these towers up close. It pulsates. It breathes. It is as if hell itself were being planted among us.
And where is Mei? Where are Aisha and Akira? I do not know. No one knows. But what remains of the Sifs believes Mei still lives. And if she lives, there is hope.
Excerpt from a coded transmission from Levi to the Emerald Gate Alliance:
— The Echo tower in Vladivostok is drawing energy from three camps simultaneously. We have identified a Reaper in a violet mantle commanding the structure. The vulnerability appears to be in the astral redirection system. If we destroy the internal crystal during the shift change, it may cause a power rupture. The mission is risky. But possible.
Another oddity for the ledger. We know they have an interest in dominating Japan. Perhaps that can be used...
The city was no longer a city. It was an emotional crater, an open wound bleeding pain and hopelessness. A wasteland of rubble and suffering where hopes dissolved into the dust. The spiritual barrier had been destroyed, and with it, all natural defenses. Now, it was a vulnerable world, exposed.
And amidst this chaos, Vernasha smiled from atop her tower.
— No interference... everything is proceeding well... just a little more... it will all be realized... — she murmured with a subtle smile, watching the Reapers march like pieces on a board she controlled.
Mentally, she thanked Dante. His rebirth, albeit weakened, had made everything easier. But his memory returned, vivid, cutting.
---------------------------------Flashback-------------------------------------------
Dante and she were alone, enveloped by an absolute darkness that swallowed any light.
— What do you harbor within yourself, Vernasha? And why? — Dante asked, his voice grave and full of curiosity.
She looked at him with cold, impenetrable eyes.
— There are humans in this era... dangerous ones. Warriors who defy logic. And you were weakened upon awakening. We could not take risks with Mei Nuhay at large.
Dante repeated the name, almost whispering:
— Nuhay... I see. But in the future, I wish to meet her. That family... is interesting.
— Spiritual forces from across the world will come. Warriors with unique and lethal abilities.
— I know. But it is of no consequence. I will destroy them all. Yet I am curious. I wish to see what this era has wrought.
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Somewhere removed from everything.
The crimson temple.
Shrouded by runes and protective marks that camouflaged it from the outside world.
Kion paced restlessly through the abandoned temple of the Nuhay family, now a sanctuary for the wounded and the hopeless—a haven for the survivors. His body was slender and agile, a contrast to his older brother's brute strength. Kion's skin was dark, his face marked by a few fine scars, silent witnesses to past battles. His deep brown eyes carried the restlessness of one fighting against his own physical weakness. His short, curly hair was always slightly disheveled, as if fear made him fuss with it unconsciously.
He remembered Kaze destroying the center, his team being massacred. He remembered the teammate who saved him, teleporting him away. He wanted to forget. But he could not.
Julian appeared in the hall, a giant among men. Tall, over six feet, muscular like a steel locker, his presence dominated the space. His dark skin glistened under the temple's faint light, highlighting his thick arms and calloused hands, testament to a man who did not shirk hard labor. Julian's face had strong features, thick eyebrows, and a rare smile that tried to ease the tension. His shaved head shone like polished coal.
Julian had that protective and calm demeanor, a safe harbor for Kion, who, despite his fragility, possessed a sharp and quick mind.
— How is he? — Kion asked, his voice laden with anxiety.
— Tekio? — Julian replied with a deep sigh. — Still unconscious. But... alive.
Kion knew. Tekio was important. He had saved him from the Reapers' claws. Then he saw the fight, from afar. He saw all of Tekio's suffering and that of the others. And he saw Fenra emerge from the shadows, nearly stopping his heart with fear. Together, they devised a plan: perfect illusions to distract the Reapers while Fenra saved the others. They managed to escape. But the moral scar would not fade so soon.
Julian tried to cheer his brother, but his concern for his "friend" was greater.
Above the crimson temple, where the wind sliced the silence with cold laments, Fenra stood motionless on the edge of a mountain ridge. The sky seemed suspended—tinged with gray-orange, as if the world were in a perpetual twilight. Below her, the temple was barely visible, concealed by runes and protective illusions. But inside, the last tattered threads of resistance still drew breath.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her long black hair dancing in the wind. Her gray eyes seemed to stitch the horizon, as if they could unravel the threads of the future. On her skin, small spiritual cracks pulsed, remnants of her excessive energy use to save the others days ago. It still hurt. But no more than the memory.
In that very spot, just a few nights prior, Akira had awoken. Wounded, his body unstable, but his mind... clear enough.
She closed her eyes. Heard his voice again, hoarse, weak... but firm.
— Fenra... there was a woman.
— What woman?
— Dark hair. Eyes red like embers. Black marks on her face... She was... — Akira coughed up blood, Fenra held his hand, keeping him awake — ...containing Mei. Somehow. But... if we attack her... perhaps...
— Perhaps the seal will break?
Akira nodded.
— It was as if Mei... were alive inside. Fighting. But trapped. Like a beast locked in a cage of bone and shadow.
She opened her eyes. The wind intensified. The branches around her swayed, as if responding to what she felt.
— A gamble, huh? — she whispered to the wind.
It wasn't much. But it was something. A spark of a plan. The woman Akira described was not a known figure. Not a common Reaper. And if she was containing Mei... then there was fear. There was vulnerability.
If they attack her, perhaps Mei will return...
Fenra knew the weight of those words. Knew that if they failed, all could be lost. But she also knew that the temple housed more than bodies—it housed shattered wills, hopes in ruins.
A warmer breeze blew, touching her face like a memory of those gone. Mei. Still alive. Still there, somewhere.
— Just hold on a little longer... — she murmured, rising to her feet with a sharpened gaze. — If this woman is real... we will find her. And when we find her... we will open the cage.
She turned her back to the horizon and calmly descended the mountain. Not with haste. But with purpose. The kind of purpose that rekindles a war.
In another corner of the temple, Dan and Stella washed dishes in silence, the sounds of water and soap echoing softly off the stone walls. It was a strange calm, almost unsettling, as if the world were holding its breath along with them.
Dan stirred the warm water absently, his eyes fixed on the bottom of the basin. His shoulders were tense, and there was something in his posture that betrayed a weight greater than mere physical fatigue. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, full of hesitation and poorly contained hope.
— Do you think he'll wake up?
Stella didn't answer immediately. Her hands continued scrubbing an already clean glass, as if she needed more time to find words that wouldn't hurt. Finally, she sighed, without taking her eyes off the suds.
— Honestly? I don't know. But... remember the mission in Russia? That endless winter, a year ago? Tekio and Fenra faced that demon, Crassh... She laughed remembering the nickname Mei gave the demon when Tekio told her about the battle... but anyway, it was a massacre. Tekio was out for days. And still, he woke up. Changed. Stronger.
Dan let out a brief, melancholic laugh, the vivid memory flashing before his eyes.
— You shooting from on top of the train, like it was a war movie. Me trying to hold onto that possessed shield while it screamed in my head. Tekio jumping off the bridge like a fearless idiot... I swore he was going to die in that fall.
Stella smiled, almost imperceptibly, but her eyes couldn't hide the weariness in her soul.
— And yet... he survived. And he never forgot us. He always believed in us. Maybe it's time we did the same.
Dan nodded slowly, but his gaze darkened. The memories coming now weren't just of victories. He saw blood, fallen bodies, smiles extinguished by death. And he remembered the most horrifying moment of all—when he was taken by Dante's influence, when he saw the world crumble around him.
— I saw so much, Stella... — He set a plate down carefully, bracing himself against the edge of the sink. His voice trembled slightly. — I saw lives being torn away... and I took part in it. I laughed. I... toyed with their deaths. That wasn't me, but it felt like it was. And to this day, when I close my eyes, I see their faces.
She said nothing, just looked at him. Dan had always been strong on the outside, but now she saw what he hid—the guilt gnawing at him from within.
But then, Dan lifted his gaze, his eyes fixed on a distant point, as if he could see through the temple walls. His voice, once weak, now took on a different tone—something firmer, clearer.
— But I saw something else, too. Something I can't get out of my head. Dante... that damned creature. He was monstrous, yes. But when Tekio stood up, in that form... when the thunder enveloped the field, and the mark on his back shone like a furious sky... I saw it. I swear on everything, Stella. Dante was afraid. He hesitated. His eyes... changed. For an instant, he doubted himself. He recoiled.
Stella stared at him in silence, absorbing those words. This was more than a memory. It was a revelation.
— He is not a god — Dan continued, now more convinced. — He feels fear. He can be wounded. He can be defeated. And if he can be defeated... then Tekio still has a chance. All of us do.
Stella took a deep breath, emotion rising in her throat. She was still weak, her body bruised, her mind fighting trauma, but there was something in that moment—in Dan's voice, in the way he believed—that warmed her heart.
She approached slowly, placing her hand over his.
— I... I'm also glad you're here, Dan. Truly. Even hurt, even confused... having you here gives me peace. It reminds me that we still have something to fight for. And even though I'm still trying to recover... I'm happy. In a strange way, yes, but happy that we still have this. Each other.
Dan looked at her, his eyes glistening, and smiled sincerely for the first time in days.
— Me too, Stella. Never thought I'd say that, after everything, but... just knowing you're okay, that we're still together, that's more than I hoped for. And I'll be here, by your side. Until the end.
For a moment, as they looked at each other, the world seemed a little less dark. They knew battles still lay ahead, that Dante still loomed like a shadow over everything. But now a certainty was kindled between them—that the enemy was not invincible. And that, together, they could still make a difference.
In the dark, between worlds…
There was a silence there that was not empty, but full of echoes—as if time and soul whispered forgotten memories. A space suspended between the now and the yet-to-come.
Tekio's spiritual body hovered, translucent, light as a leaf loose in the wind. His form floated, undefined, as if it could dissolve at any moment. His eyes were vacant, fixed on some distant point, as if searching for something… or someone.
And she was there.
Yara. The woman with hair white like snow fallen under the moon. Her eyes, of a deep blue, seemed to contain within them the tempests of the past and the light of a lost world. She was not merely a reflection. She was a presence—alive, ancient, marked by battles and secrets never fully told.
Tekio stared at her, and this time, unlike before… he recognized her. Not fully, but he felt it. Like a slumbering memory slowly awakening. She was more than a shadow within him. She was something essential. Something of him.
She took a step forward, with a delicacy that seemed to defy the void around them. Her expression was dense—a mixture of sorrow, affection, and a kind of resolve that seemed to have weighed for centuries.
Yara's voice cut the silence like a whisper in the night wind, soft and laden with a thousand meanings:
— I suppose the time has come to try.
Tekio did not reply. He merely felt a shiver run through his spiritual form. The time... He knew which one. He had always known it would come.
She continued, her voice firmer now, yet still threaded with emotion:
— This was never what I wanted. Never. I wanted you to live as yourself. As Tekio. To have the right to choose. But we are out of time. And you need to understand... who I am. Who you are. And what is coming.
Her eyes shone—not only with power, but with pain. Ancient pain, as of one who has seen worlds crumble, loved ones lost, and yet carried on. Within her, there was hope... but it was a hope that bled.
Tekio felt a knot in his throat. Or what would be a throat, if he were alive. A sensation that was not physical, but emotional. Spiritual. As if his soul were trembling.
— Yara... — he murmured, almost without realizing.
The woman smiled, and for an instant the smile seemed as familiar as his own name. As if he had seen that gesture a thousand times, before he was even born.
— You have felt this, haven't you? This pain that is not yours. This rage that comes from nowhere. This courage that appears from nothing. They are fragments. Vestiges of me. Or rather... of us.
She extended her hand, and small sparks began to shimmer between her fingers. Tiny lightnings dancing like awakened memories. And then, images began to form among them—flashes of a past life. Battles. A fortress in flames. A sister weeping. A sacred chain wreathed in light. An emperor's cry. The sound of thunder.
Tekio brought a hand to his chest, where he felt the mark on his back pulsing even there, in the void. As if it were responding to her presence.
Yara drew closer still, and placed her hand over his chest.
— This mark... is not a curse. It never was. It is the seal of something forgotten. A bond between us. Between you and something the world tried to erase.
Tekio's eyes widened. For the first time, he did not feel lost in that place. For the first time… he felt he was on the verge of understanding everything.
— I am ready to show you — Yara said, her voice now as clear as truth. — But it will hurt. And when it is over… you will no longer be the same. You will carry more than your own life. You will carry mine. And perhaps... the fate of all of them.
She lifted her face, looking him in the eyes, and in her eyes was everything: love, loss, courage, sacrifice. A hurricane contained for centuries.
— Are you ready, Tekio?
Time stopped.
And amidst the dark, something began to glow.
To be continued...