(Kisaya POV)
What… what did I just say? Eresh?
My heart slammed against my chest like it wanted out. Heat surged up my throat, cutting off my breath.
I stared at the creature again.
Impossible. It couldn't be him.
Not with those fangs.
Not with blood covering his body. Thick, drying in patches.
That wasn't human.
It was a predator.
But the face. The hair. The shoulders. The silhouette, I knew it. I remembered every part of it.
He looked exactly as I remembered.
My eyes locked onto his. Red, unnatural, bright, unblinking. There was nothing human in them. No recognition, no hesitation.
But the shape, the gaze.
It reminded me of him.
It couldn't be him.
And yet… gods help me, I wanted it to be.
My throat tightened painfully.
"Eresh?"
He lunged at me.
I jumped back without thinking. Twisted in mid-air to keep my eyes on him. Landed in a crouch. One hand braced against the ground, the other already lifting the spear into position.
My heartbeat pounded in my chest.
Every breath felt too short.
"Eresh!" I shouted again. "Is that you?"
He didn't even flinch. Just came at me. His claws swept toward my side. I spun to avoid it, pushed off my back foot, and drove the end of my spear toward him.
My hands were steady, but everything else felt like it was slipping.
He dropped low. Slid sideways, fluid and fast—more beast than man. A claw whipped from beneath, a blur. I barely raised my spear in time, blocking it with a jarring impact that rattled my bones.
"Eresh! It's me, Kisaya!"
Nothing. No hesitation. No flicker of recognition. Just those crimson eyes staring back at me, empty of anything human.
Couldn't let myself believe, not fully. Not yet. But the thought wouldn't stop clawing at the edges of my mind:
His body was never recovered. According to the reports, he fell near this area. The Children of the Guardian were involved. Just a weapon left behind.
And now there's this.
A creature with his frame. His face.
It's too precise to be a coincidence.
What if it really is him?
What if he's still in there, somewhere?
And then the pressure of his spiritual energy hit me. Massive. Uncontrolled. Raw and relentless, spilling from him like a bleeding wound. He wasn't even using it consciously, he didn't seem to control it at all.
And yet, it was already overwhelming.
If this was him without focus… how powerful would he be if he actually used it?
I wouldn't hold for long, not against power like this—especially with my thoughts clouded. I had to match him, even if only briefly.
Rune. Now.
I gathered my spiritual energy, guiding it precisely, instantly into my fingertip. Traced the rune in a single, smooth motion, perfect despite the chaos.
The shift came instantly, that familiar sensation every time I activated the ability. Everything sharpened: vision clearer, reflexes tighter, reactions faster.
He lunged again, blindingly fast. This time I sidestepped easily. Saw the trajectory, predicted every motion.
"Ereshgal!" I roared. "Stop!"
He didn't.
His attacks multiplied, claws slicing from every angle, fast and fierce. But with the rune active and my spiritual energy flowing exactly where it needed to, I saw each strike clearly.
I matched him move for move, deflecting his blows, pushing my body to move faster, hit harder.
Even against his unnatural speed and force, I kept up.
Each parry, each clash of spear and claw screamed through my bones, sharp and violent. But I held on.
"Eresh, look at me!"
He didn't. Just kept coming. No hesitation, no pause.
Only relentless, brutal violence.
If this was him, if there was even a piece of him left, I had to reach it. I had to try.
The fight escalated. He wasn't listening. No sense of self.
A monster.
He charged, fierce and unrelenting, pushing me backward with every brutal strike. Each clash echoed through my bones, shaking my grip, rattling my resolve. The reality of what he had become pressed in on me, suffocating, undeniable.
I could feel it in the middle of the fight—if I kept going like this, my energy would eventually fade, my movements would slow, and he'd overpower me.
Unless something changed.
Only two paths remained: strike with the intent to kill… or use my second divine rune.
But he looks like Eresh. His face, his hair, his body. I couldn't bring myself to strike with lethal intent. And the second rune… it makes me act in a way I don't want to.
Not now.
I'm not even sure I can use it—not with my edict in the way, not with him.
I couldn't. I wouldn't.
I still felt the ache deep inside, the raw, painful longing for the man I'd lost.
In that heartbeat of hesitation, Ereshgal leapt into the air, soaring impossibly high, casting a haunting shadow beneath the moon. Then, without warning, he dove down, hurtling toward me like a predator closing in on prey.
I stabbed my spear into the earth, using it to vault sideways, spiritual energy flooding into my limbs, strengthening muscles and sinews. Twisting mid-air, I descended in a swift, sweeping arc, the blade of my spear aimed directly at his vulnerable back.
A sudden, cold thought seized me:
This strike could seriously hurt him.
My muscles locked. My heart wavered.
In that fleeting moment of doubt, his claw tore into me.
A sharp, searing agony erupted beneath my ribs, burning hot and blinding. I felt my blood rush out, slick and warm, spreading rapidly across my skin.
I staggered back, gasping sharply, strength draining faster than the blood spilling from my wound. My knee hit the ground, my hand pressed desperately against the ragged tear in my side. Pain throbbed violently, matching the rhythm of my failing heart.
Slowly, deliberately, I raised my gaze to meet his.
The next strike would end me.
I didn't raise my spear. I could have, but I didn't.
My arms trembled violently from exhaustion and pain, but I forced myself to stay still.
I locked eyes with the monster Eresh had become, gazing into those burning, crimson depths.
I don't know if it's really you… but I won't fight anymore.
I won't run from this.
If this is the end.
Let it come from your hands.
And let it come with me staring straight into your eyes.
Slowly, I opened my arms, each movement stiff with pain, but I didn't stop. I left myself exposed, unguarded.
If he wanted to kill me, I wouldn't resist.
And in that moment, what I saw wasn't a monster. It was a memory—his smile, his golden eyes, the way he used to look at me without a trace of violence.
I smiled back.
Not at the creature in front of me, but at the echo of who he was.
Then he moved.
A blur, claws extended, mouth wide open.
He lunged forward.
I didn't flinch.
The air cracked around me as he closed the distance—unstoppable.
But then…
He stopped. Just inches from me.
His breath hit my skin.
His claws hovered in the air, frozen mid-strike.
And those fierce, blood-red eyes… flickered.
Confusion.
Conflict.
Then, gradually, impossibly, they shifted—red fading into a soft, familiar gold.
He stared at me, suddenly uncertain. Not with fury, not with hunger, but with something painfully human. Something achingly familiar.
Something like... recognition.
His voice, rough and hesitant, emerged as little more than a broken whisper.
"…Kisaya?"
He collapsed at my feet.
Title: Kisaya?