The forest was burning.
Not with the chaos of wild flame, but with precision—deliberate and cruel. Heat warped the air, trees crackled under the pressure, and smoke wrapped around the path like a serpent. The ground was split open where he had landed, a crater bleeding fire into the woods.
"Do you know him, Chiaki?" Vivia asked, her voice low and cautious. She stepped slightly to the side, tension running down her arms as sweat began to bead on her brow. "He clearly knows you."
Chiaki didn't answer right away. Her breathing was tight, focused—but her own skin was slick with sweat too, both from the heat and the pressure.
"Not really," she muttered. "It's not like I keep track of every stranger who wants me dead. And honestly… I'm not even sure that's what he's here for."
Her gaze stayed locked on the figure ahead, who hadn't moved since delivering his eerie, gas-laced greeting.
"All I know is this island's spiraled into chaos faster than I expected. And Blythe—sending that damn letter... what was he even thinking?"
The name made her stomach twist. She still loved her brother. That hadn't changed. But this—whatever this was—felt like a web spun around her without her knowing. And now everything was coming undone.
Then the masked figure stepped forward, voice cutting through the heat with a taunting, metallic edge.
"No need to play dumb, sweetheart. I'm right here. Let's see if you're really everything people whisper about."
He tilted his head, the gas hissing faintly as the fire curled tighter around his boots.
"Gotta thank your brother, actually. Led me right to you. Gave me just enough time to make some… preparations for a proper welcome. Though I wasn't expecting guests."
His gaze shifted briefly toward Vivia, then back to Chiaki. The air between them felt like it could ignite at any second.
The gas didn't clear. It lingered—thick, heavy, swimming through the air like a living thing. Mixed with ash, smoke, and flickering firelight, it choked the space around them, leaving barely any room to breathe. The forest was all but gone now, reduced to scorched earth and burning fragments.
Chiaki squinted through the haze, her voice laced with suspicion and rising anger.
"My brother, huh? You said he led you here. What's that supposed to mean? Are you two working for someone—someone who knows how to sever souls?"
She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, pointing directly at Cassian's limp body, draped over Vivia's back.
"Because he's living proof of that nightmare. Someone ripped him apart like he was nothing. And I don't take kindly to anyone who treats human souls like they're trash—just excuses to hurt people and call it power."
Her jaw clenched, fire dancing in her eyes now.
"So if my brother's involved in that... I'm not just walking away like it doesn't matter."
"Who said we had time to waste on conversation?" Kaemor's voice sliced through the haze, cold and unhurried. "Time's a resource we don't get to fumble with—not today."
He took a slow step forward, the gas and flame coiling tighter around him like armor made of smoke.
"So here's a deal. You show me what you're capable of—and if, by some miracle, you manage to bring me down, I'll tell you everything I know. Every dirty little truth you're dying to hear."
He tilted his head, glowing eyes behind the mask narrowed with disdain.
"But don't get too loud just yet. Beating me? With your level of power? That's fantasy talk. Still…"
He tapped the center of his chest, mockingly courteous.
"I'll play the part of a proper guest and give you my name. I'm Kaemor—Rhaziel's first mate. And I'll be claiming a lovely reward when I bring you to him. Because severing your soul... well, let's just say it's part of something far bigger than you realize."
A short, twisted laugh escaped the mask.
Then he raised one arm—and with a sharp hiss, the flaming cords coiled above, then snapped down like whips, slamming into his palm with perfect precision.
His voice dropped low, but fierce with anticipation.
"Now enough delay. Let's get to it. I'll keep your friend out of the fight—wouldn't want her dying in the crossfire. Get ready... 'cause it's about to get real hot in here."
In an instant, the standoff shattered.
Kaemor surged forward through the burning underbrush like a missile loosed from the smoke, dragging his coiled cord behind him, flames licking at his heels. His movements tore the ground apart with raw momentum—and then he was already on top of her.
Chiaki reacted on instinct. Her forearms rose just in time as Kaemor came crashing down, both of his feet hammering against her guard with terrifying force.
The impact ruptured the air around them, a blastwave thundering outward as Chiaki was thrown back, her body airborne. But mid-flight, she twisted with controlled precision, spinning through the embers. Her boots hit the scorched ground and she slid backward, one leg stretched wide, balancing herself through a flurry of ash and burnt leaves.
Ahead of her, Kaemor didn't stop. He was already closing the distance again, a storm in motion, his cords alive and writhing.
He lashed the first one toward her like a whip, its tip sharp and glowing.
Chiaki shifted her torso to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike as it tore through the air where her ribs had just been.
A second cord launched forward, arcing toward her hip. She flipped backward, narrowly clearing it as it scraped a deep groove into the earth beneath.
The first came around again, this time aiming for her throat.
She ducked low, sliding under it, the heat skimming her skin as it passed.
The second followed—this time from behind. She spun out of its path, her footwork tight and fluid, the strike missing by a breath's width.
The cords blurred now—moving with such velocity they painted streaks of fire into the air. Kaemor moved them like twin vipers, each strike unpredictable and vicious.
One came low for her legs.
Chiaki vaulted straight upward, the cord sweeping below like a steel blade cloaked in flame.
Midair, the second struck down toward her with surgical precision.
She crossed her arms, reinforcing them in an instant with steel. The impact sparked on contact, throwing embers into the air.
She dropped back to the ground in a crouch—still alive, still unbroken—and wasted no time.
Her feet tore forward across the ashen ground.
"I can't slow down. Not even for a second."
Kaemor watched her approach with a low growl beneath his mask, the cords spinning faster now—creating afterimages, fiery illusions meant to confuse her vision.
One came down from her left. She dropped beneath it.
Another swept in from the right. She rolled under, tucking into the motion with practiced ease.
A vertical strike followed, slicing through the space just above her head. She twisted sideways, avoiding it by mere inches.
Kaemor pressed harder. The cords hissed like burning serpents, each one aiming to break her rhythm.
But Chiaki was already threading through the chaos.
She dove under a sweeping arc, slid through a narrow window between two strikes, then sprang into a mid-air twist as a final cord aimed for her shoulder.
It missed.
And she landed hard, her boots dragging across the scorched soil.
Kaemor stood ahead of her, cords writhing in the firelight.
There was no time to breathe.
Kaemor launched again, his speed sharper—brutal. The cord snaked behind him like a flaming tail, and thick gas spilled from his gear, wrapping around him like a living shield. He surged toward her, closing the distance at near-sonic speed, his arm outstretched—aiming straight for her throat.
Chiaki dropped low, narrowly avoiding his grasp as it sliced through the air where her neck had been a split second earlier. Her momentum didn't stop. She twisted her body beneath him, planted her hands firmly into the scorched earth, and pivoted into a swift handstand.
With fluid grace, she swung her leg in a wide arc behind her—then extended it high above her head.
In a flash of perfect form, she brought her heel crashing downward toward Kaemor's skull.
It was a textbook axe kick—clean, powerful, like the finishing move from an old martial arts film. She gritted her teeth and shouted through the impact, "You're gonna tell me everything!"
But in that moment—time broke.
The world around her dimmed into shades of monochrome. Her leg slowed mid-air, dragging through syrupy air as if caught in a memory. Chiaki's eyes widened as the space around her seemed to suspend itself in a dreamlike frame. Everything stopped.
Except Kaemor.
He didn't freeze. He didn't slow.
He dissolved.
His body turned to vapor—a swirl of vibrant pink gas—and phased straight through Chiaki's suspended form like mist through glass. The cords wrapped around her torso in a flash, weaving with practiced accuracy, locking her limbs in place.
Her breath caught.
"What…?"
The colors snapped back. The world surged forward in a blur of light and heat. Time returned—violently.
Kaemor now stood behind her, his back almost touching hers, hands tightening around a metallic handle linked to the cord that bound her.
Chiaki's eyes went wide, heart skipping.
"No…"
Then he yanked the trigger.
Gas erupted outward, igniting in an instant.
The explosion consumed her in a blaze of violent heat—unstoppable and direct. The blast roared across the mountain like a living beast, the force launching her skyward in a cyclone of flame. Shockwaves followed—rippling through the forest in brutal succession, like the echo of thunder made solid, shaking trees and ripping the terrain apart.
The very air screamed from the force of it.
To be continued...