The stars that night were wrong.
Too sharp, too many, too bright — like the sky cracked open and bled starlight across a world that didn't deserve the beauty anymore. The convoy set camp in a collapsed truck depot, rusted trailers forming a crude ring, sensor wards glowing faint orange like protective embers.
Ren sat on the edge of a broken loading dock, boots dangling, exhale fogging in the cold night air. His hands still trembled faintly from adrenaline and fear — and from the fact he survived.
That part still felt unreal.
Most of the team was quietly working or resting. Mei muttered seal equations to herself under lamplight, adjusting wards around camp. Riku snored in a carrier seat, goggles still on his forehead. Aya meditated like a statue draped in moonlight, runes on her arms slowly dimming.
Akira cleaned his sword without sound — blade gleaming like liquid night.
Kenta stood at the camp's perimeter, silhouette unmoving, eyes scanning the horizon like he expected the world to punch him again and he planned to punch back harder.
Elder Shun placed prayer tags around the camp perimeter with small, gentle movements — care, not fear.
Ren hugged his knees. "I'm not cut out for this."
Akira didn't even look up. "You are. Or we would've left you behind."
Ren blinked. "…Wow. You say the nicest things."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"It still felt nice."
Akira's mouth twitched — almost a smile, but he killed it before it got too bold.
Mei approached, handing Ren a steaming cup.
"Drink. It's medicinal."
Ren sniffed it. "…This smells like despair and boiled socks."
"It prevents spirit-fatigue and night-terror bleed. Drink."
Ren grimaced. Gulped. Gagged a little. "Okay that tastes like sadness in tea form."
"That's because your survival tastes sad," Mei said, sitting beside him. Soft, tired, sincere. "But you survived."
Ren stared at the ground. "Barely. I feel like I'm faking it. Like any second I'll slip and everything ends because I wasn't good enough."
Mei set down her notebook. "You think strength means never shaking?"
Ren didn't answer.
Akira sheathed his sword. "Everyone shakes. Strong people shake and move anyway."
Ren swallowed. Something hot and painful sat beneath his ribs — pride, fear, love, loss, all tangled up like roots in stone.
"Do you… think my brother would—"
He stopped. Couldn't finish.
Mei leaned closer, voice softer than she ever let others hear.
"You don't have to be him. You just have to be you."
Ren exhaled shakily.
"And don't die," Akira added.
Ren snorted. "…Thanks. Inspirational."
"You're welcome."
The world sleeps. Ren doesn't.
Hours passed. Fire burned low. A chill crawled up Ren's spine, subtle and familiar — the kind of cold that wasn't weather.
Ren lay down on a thin mat in the carrier, arms crossed behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, eyes refusing sleep. The rumble of distant earth tremors rolled every so often — not from anything nearby, just the world shifting and remembering it was dangerous.
Eventually fatigue dragged on his consciousness like claws.
He drifted.
The hum of the carrier faded.
Stars dissolved.
Breath slowed.
And suddenly—
Fire.
Screams.
Ren's feet pounded dirt soaked with blood and ash. Houses burned — flames licking rooftops like hungry serpents. People ran. Others didn't get the chance.
Village banners — once peaceful blue — torn, stained, charred.
He was younger here. Smaller. Weaker. Heart pounding like a trapped creature in his chest.
"REN!"
His brother's voice cut through the chaos.
Azusa Ito older, taller, eyes like burning hope sprinted toward him, pulling Ren behind a broken cart as a monstrous silhouette strode through the village, swinging an arm that tore walls apart like paper.
No divine beast yet.
No Ares.
But death, chaos, and divine malice echoed all the same.
Azusa grabbed Ren's face hands shaking. Dust covered his skin. His cheek was bleeding.
"Listen to me."
Ren shook. "We… we have to go back. Mom,Dad,the others"
Azusa voice cracked but held steel.
"They're gone."
Ren's breath died in his throat. His world shook harder than the earth under demon claws.
Azusa cupped his cheek.
"You survive. Do you hear me? You run and you live."
"No! I won't leave you! I'm not— I can fight—!"
Azusa smiled — that gentle, tragic kind big brothers are cursed with.
"If you don't live… no one remembers us."
A monstrous roar tore across the village — something colossal moving, approaching.
Azusa pressed his forehead to Ren's.
"Ren… don't fail us."
The world exploded white. Light swallowed everything.
Sound vanished.
Then
He wakes like drowning
Ren jerked violently awake, gasping, hand clutching his chest. The carrier ceiling stared back — cold metal, condensation, his own breath fogging.
Rain hammered lightly outside the world crying quietly.
Mei sat beside him, half-asleep, notebook still open, head bobbing before she snapped up.
"You okay?" she whispered.
Ren didn't answer immediately. He stared at his hands shaking like they remembered fire.
"…I saw him."
Mei softened. "Your brother?"
He nodded. Couldn't speak more. If he did, his voice would break.
Mei didn't push. She just sat beside him. Present. Warm. Enough.
Akira pretended to sleep two seats over but his jaw was tense. He heard. He cared. He'd never say it.
Kenta stood by the open carrier door, rain dripping off his coat. Watching the world. Guarding while others slept. As if sleep was optional for mountains.
He turned, eyes meeting Ren's.
"On your feet," Kenta said simply. "We move."
Ren swallowed emotion like a stone and stood.
He didn't feel strong.
He felt human.
Sometimes those overlap. Sometimes they don't.
Morning bled into gray.
The world smelled like wet metal and distant grave soil.
Vehicles rolled slow now — careful, silent, weapons hot and ready. Spirit ward drones patrolled like ghost lamps.
Forest gave way to cracked concrete. Thick vines draped skeleton towers. Ivy climbed broken signage. Wildflowers burst through asphalt like rebellion. Silence stretched too long. No birds. No wind. Just tension.
Kasumori.
The ruined town.
Ren felt the world tighten around his lungs. He leaned forward against the carrier window.
And froze.
There he was.
Ares.
Sitting on the skeletal remains of a skyscraper like a king resting his elbow on a dead throne. Massive. Carved from wrath and war. Armor pulsing with molten heat. Red aura thick like volcanic ash in water.
He didn't need to roar or move or glow.
He simply existed. That was enough to crush hope.
Two titans crouched below him like loyal nightmares:
Guruth :three-headed hellhound, jaws drooling smoke and venom. Chains dragging. Eyes like hunger given shape.
Thektor: A colossal boar-titan, towering and broad like a living siege engine.
Muscle layered beneath cathedral-thick iron plates fused into flesh — a moving fortress of rage and bone-steel
Ren's breath hitched.
Mei murmured in horror, "He waited for us…"
Akira's fingers twitched toward his sword. "No. He hunted our path and positioned."
Riku whispered, "If fear had a physical form… that's it."
Aya's grip tightened on her staff. Elder Shun closed his eyes in prayer.
Kenta didn't move. Didn't flinch.
He just stared up at Ares.
Ares stared back.
Silence cracked the sky. Time felt suspended like reality decided to pause and consider whether to keep going.
Then Ares' voice rolled across the city not shouted, not forced.
Just spoken.
And the world listened.
"YOU WALK WELL, LITTLE SPARK."
Ren felt his knees weaken. He forced them steady.
Ares gestured lazily to the beasts at his feet.
"THEY WISH TO GREET YOU."
Guruth snarled, three voices layered like hell's choir.
Thektor clicked claws, tail rising like a falling guillotine.
Ren's mouth went dry. "Uh. Can we… talk first?"
Ares' eyes glowed molten.
"YOU SPEAK AS THOUGH THE END NEGOTIATES."
Akira whispered near Ren's ear, voice tight but calm:
"Don't talk. Breathe."
Ren swallowed. Tried. His breath shook anyway.
Ares leaned forward, elbows on knees like he was at a balcony enjoying a show.
"TODAY THE FIRE TESTS YOU."
His voice softened — eerily almost gentle.
"NOT TO END YOU.
BUT TO SEE IF YOU ARE WORTH ENDING."
Ren shivered. That was worse. So much worse.
Kenta stepped forward, aura rising like a storm waking.
"We do not fall here."
Ares chuckled — a sound that cracked the air.
"EVERYONE FALLS.
THE QUESTION IS WHEN."
Thektor's tail arched. Guruth scraped claws. The tension broke like a dam.
Kenta raised his arm. "Defensive formation! Shields ready!"
Aya flared runes, Elder Shun murmured sutras, Riku primed drones, Mei activated spirit barriers, Akira lifted his blade.
Ren clenched trembling fists.
He heard his brother's voice inside him — not memory now but anchor.
Ren… don't fail us.
He lifted his head.
Fear didn't leave.
It settled beside determination.
He whispered to himself — small, raw, honest:
"I won't."
The air screamed as Guruth lunge
and Kasumori, the dead city, roared awake.