Saturo woke to strangers taking control of his village.
Not waves. Not gulls.
Boots.
They thudded past the clinic in hard, measured lines. Voices moved with them—low, sharp, used to being obeyed.
"Marines coming through! Clear the pier, keep back from the water!"
The village's panic shifted—less wild, more caged, but still there.
Saturo dragged in a breath that felt like gravel. His lungs still hadn't forgiven him for yesterday.
He turned his head.
Tanjiro was already awake, back against the wall. Nezuko crouched beside his cot, eyes fixed on the door, still as a loaded trap.
The fisherman eased the door open with his shoulder. He looked like he'd aged a year overnight.
"They made it by dawn," he said. "Marines. Small squad, but… serious types."
Saturo's chest tightened for a different reason. "Guess the flare did its job."
"Or the screaming did," the fisherman said bleakly.
The doctor tightened the bandage around Saturo's ribs, irritation sharp in his movements. "Don't try to act tough," he said. "One bad breath and your lungs will quit on you."
From outside, someone shouted toward the clinic, "They're inside! The boy and the girl!"
The fisherman winced. "Subtle as always."
He stepped out of the way.
Three Marines entered.
The one in front was less impressive than the stories—no huge justice coat, no decorations dangling. Just a worn uniform, a sword at his hip, dark hair tied back, and eyes that had spent more time narrowing at paperwork than shining on posters.
He swept the room once—Saturo, Tanjiro, Nezuko, the box in the corner, the doctor, the hanging bundles of herbs. Nothing seemed to surprise him. That unsettled Saturo more than shock would have.
"Doctor," the man said. "These are them?"
"Unfortunately," the doctor replied. "If I had more of them, I'd move."
The Marines at his shoulders didn't quite laugh, but the tension eased a fraction.
The captain's gaze settled on Tanjiro. "You're the one who fell."
Tanjiro met his eyes. "Yes."
"Name."
"Tanjiro Kamado."
"Ship? Island?"
Tanjiro hesitated. "Neither."
The captain's jaw clenched once. "Interesting answer," he said, like it was a problem on a page.
His attention shifted to Saturo. The weight of it felt like cold water.
"You're Saturo," he said. "You jumped in, dragged this boy out, then picked up a sword and cut something apart."
"Didn't stay apart," Saturo said. "It kept growing back."
A Marine on the right huffed under his breath. The captain didn't react.
"The villagers say the sky cracked," he went on. "Something fell through. Gray. Wrong. It talked. It hunted. They say it went straight for you and for him."
Saturo held his gaze. "Yeah. That's what happened."
"You see why I'm here," the captain said.
"You don't like not understanding things," Saturo said. His throat ached from each word.
"The last time someone yelled 'monster' in this sea," the captain replied, "it was pirates with tricks and explosives. Those I can arrest. This…" He let the word hang.
"It wasn't tricks," Saturo said. "Tricks don't grow new arms."
The doctor made a small noise, but didn't argue.
The captain's eyes moved to Nezuko.
She stayed by Tanjiro's cot, bare feet planted on the wood, pink eyes bright in the dim. The bamboo gag didn't make her look less dangerous—just quieter.
"And her?" he asked Tanjiro. "I've heard four different versions already."
"She's my sister," Tanjiro said at once.
"That tells me why you're standing near her," the captain said. "Not why she came out of a box."
"She's the reason that thing didn't reach the houses," Saturo cut in. "You might want to start there."
The captain's gaze slid back to him, measuring. Then he glanced toward the corner.
One of the Marines had edged closer to the wooden box, hand halfway outstretched toward the lid.
"Don't," Tanjiro said—sharp enough to cut.
Nezuko's head turned with his voice. Her weight shifted toward the Marine by a fraction.
The man froze.
From the hall, the fisherman called, "She crawled out of that thing, Captain. Like it was a door."
"And the creature?" the captain asked without looking away from Nezuko.
"Dropped out of the sky," the fisherman said. "Walked wrong. Smelled worse. Went for them first."
"She moved to stop it," the doctor added. "Whatever that makes her."
The captain said nothing for a few seconds.
"I see three things," he said eventually. "One, a creature no one can explain. Two, a mark in the sky no one can name. Three, three people who were under it when it tore and in front of it when it landed."
His gaze went from Tanjiro to Saturo to Nezuko, then back again.
"Three points," he said. "Same pattern."
Tanjiro's fingers tightened around the blanket. "We didn't bring it here," he said. Not loud, but steady.
"Maybe you didn't," the captain answered. "Maybe it followed. Maybe it just likes the smell of you. I don't know yet."
Saturo opened his mouth to snap something back.
Something inside his chest knocked.
He stilled.
The next inhale snagged on it—not the familiar burn, not the usual tightness. A thin hum slid through his ribs, like someone had plucked a string strung wrong inside him.
He sucked in more air on instinct and made it worse.
Across the room, Tanjiro's hand went still where it rested on Nezuko's arm. Nezuko's eyes flicked toward the thin slice of sky visible through the window.
The Marines didn't react.
The doctor moved closer. "Don't you dare," he said. "If you pass out on me in front of Marines—"
"I'm fine," Saturo lied. His voice sounded farther away than he liked. "I just really hate mornings."
The captain watched the three of them, eyes narrowing. He hadn't felt whatever that was, but he'd seen them all react at the same time.
"You're under strain," he said. "So I'll keep this simple. Until we're sure there aren't more of those things walking around, you three stay where I can find you. You're not in chains. Don't make me change that."
"Feels a lot like chains from this angle," Saturo muttered.
"The difference is ink," the doctor said.
A Marine near the wall shifted his rifle, casting another glance at the box. "Sir, if something else comes out of that—"
"If something else comes out," the captain said, "you shout. Then you decide if you want to be the one who fires while a whole village watches."
Nezuko's fingers curled at the word fires.
He turned back to Tanjiro. "Kamado. If you and your sister disappear, my people will assume you're running from something, or toward it. Don't make me chase you."
"We're not running," Tanjiro said.
"For your sake, I hope that's true," the captain replied.
His attention snagged on Saturo one last time. "You swung at something you didn't understand with lungs that barely work. Why?"
Saturo glanced at Tanjiro, at Nezuko, remembering gray teeth over black water.
"Because nobody else moved," he said. "And if I waited, someone was going to die in front of me."
The captain studied him a moment longer. "Stupid," he said quietly. "But familiar."
He stepped back toward the hall. "Guard on this door," he called. "No visitors unless I say so."
He left. The Marines followed.
The door slid shut.
The clinic felt smaller without them.
Outside, Marine commands cut across the square, turning the village into ordered lines and marked distances. Inside, dust floated in the same old beams of light, but the air felt different.
The doctor exhaled slowly. "I miss fevers," he said. "Fever doesn't argue with me."
"You could have caught a normal patient," Saturo said, letting his head rest against the wall. "Sorry to disappoint."
"Too late," the doctor answered. "You were disappointing years ago."
Nezuko hadn't moved back from the window. Her eyes stayed on the sky, like she could see through the wood and glass.
Tanjiro waited until the footsteps outside faded a little, then looked over at Saturo.
"You felt it again," he said. "In your chest."
Saturo pressed his palm lightly against his ribs. His lungs complained about the pressure, but they always did. "Yeah. Like… something knocking from the wrong side."
"I felt it too," Tanjiro said. "Not in one place. All at once."
Nezuko's shoulders eased forward, just barely, toward the window.
The patch of sky beyond the glass looked ordinary. Pale, washed-out blue.
Saturo had seen it crack. He didn't trust "ordinary" anymore.
"You think more of those things will drop out of it?" he asked.
Tanjiro ran his thumb along the edge of the cot. "I think whatever tore it," he said, "hasn't finished."
The doctor pretended not to hear.
Time smeared into sound and light.
Footsteps outside. Someone dragging a crate. Rope hitting a post. A child crying, shushed quickly. The scrape of a rifle butt on stone.
Inside, breathing and the occasional curse from the back room.
Saturo drifted in and out, waking each time with his chest aching and the same three shapes in his vision—Tanjiro, Nezuko, the window.
At some point, the light sharpened. The shadow on the floor moved.
Then a voice outside cut through everything.
"LOOK UP!"
This time, there was no panic under it. Just fear that had already decided it was real.
Tanjiro was off the cot before Saturo fully processed the words. The doctor yanked the curtain aside and leaned to the window.
Saturo pushed himself up with one hand, teeth gritted against the pull in his ribs. "What is it now?"
The doctor shifted just enough for him to see.
Above the village, high and thin, a red crack marked the sky.
It wasn't big.
That didn't matter.
A narrow, ugly line pulsed faintly against the blue, in the same place Saturo had watched the world split open.
One Marine outside muttered, "It's smaller than they said."
Another snapped, "Shut up and watch it."
The hum slammed into Saturo's chest harder than before.
It rolled through his bones like he'd swallowed a drumbeat. His lungs seized around it, not from emptiness, but from pressure, like the air inside them was being pressed from the outside.
He pulled in a breath that didn't feel like it belonged to him.
Tanjiro's fingers dug into the window frame.
Nezuko's nails bit into the sill, eyes locked on the crack.
"Everyone back from the water!" the captain's voice barked outside. "No boats out, no boats in! If anything comes out of that, you yell before you fire!"
Saturo barely heard him.
"It's worse," he managed.
Tanjiro didn't look away from the sky. "It's closer," he said. "And clearer."
Another pulse.
The same knock behind Saturo's ribs, louder, like whatever was on the other side had found the right spot.
He pressed his hand flat over his sternum. His breathing turned jagged again as his own heartbeat tried to find room around the pressure.
The doctor hovered near his cot. "If you stop breathing now," he said quietly, "I won't be able to drag you back this time."
"I'm not… planning on it," Saturo rasped.
Tanjiro finally turned, eyes going from the sky to Saturo's chest.
"It's pushing on something that was already wrong in you," he said. "I can hear it when you breathe."
"I'm full of things that are already wrong," Saturo said. "You're going to need more than one day."
"I know," Tanjiro answered. "That's why it scares me."
Outside, villagers cried and argued and prayed. Marines shouted about lines and distances that meant nothing to the crack above them.
Inside, three people watched a wound in the sky.
Saturo listened to his own breath scrape around something that shouldn't be there. Tanjiro's breathing was steadier, but not untouched. Nezuko's shoulders shook once, then went still—locked on the red line.
"It's not pressing on the village the same way," Tanjiro said at last. "Not like it is on us."
Saturo swallowed. His throat felt dry and metallic. "Why us?" he asked.
Tanjiro didn't answer.
The next pulse rolled through, less violent but no weaker. It felt patient.
Saturo shut his eyes for half a heartbeat, then opened them again. His lungs hurt, but they were still moving.
He lifted his chin, gaze fixed on the crack.
"Fine," he said under his breath. "You're not going away."
He dragged in another rough inhale, forcing it all the way to the bottom of his damaged lungs.
"I'm still here too."
Outside, the Marines tried to contain something they couldn't touch.
Above them, over the square and the pier and the anxious village, the thin red wound in the sky stayed exactly where it was—
not closing.
AUTHOR'S NOTE — BONUS & EARLY ACCESS
This is my original work. Please support if you like, Suggestions are welcome
◇ I'll drop one bonus chapter for every 10 reviews(leave a review/comment!)
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.