The ash crunched beneath Marya's boots as she moved forward, her leather jacket flapping in the hot, mineral-laden wind. The Salt-Stalkers and Drekavac charged across the white expanse, their faceless heads swiveling, their twisted forms casting long shadows under the harsh light of the clockwork sun.
Marya lifted Nisshoku, the obsidian blade a beacon in the eerie glow of the crystal pillars. She paused, her golden eyes tracking the wave of creatures.
Garrett Hasapis moved to step up beside her, his boots scraping against the chalky ground. Stinger remained sheathed, but his hand rested on the hilt, ready. His voice was flat, dry, cutting through the harmonic hum. Darcy Rue calls out to him and he pauses mid-step, hearing her voice cut through the dry clicking of chitinous legs.
"You think you're protecting his pride by standing still?" Garrett glanced over his shoulder at the God's Knights, his hazel eyes cold. "You're making him look like a chaperone to a bunch of terrified courtiers. If you're so worried about offending him that you'll let a rival sweep the field and leave us the scraps, then you've already lost your edge. Get your blades out and move your weight, or admit that your political tip-toeing matters more to you than the blood on the ground!"
Darcy Rue's jaw flexed. Her silver eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, her executioner's sword gleaming. "Right then," she muttered, moving to join Garrett.
Behind them, Bovee Rin Ethanbaron, Marcella Vio Marcus, and Hao Silvera Shepherd exchanged awkward glances. The Salt-Stalkers and Drekavac were closing fast, their wails rising in pitch.
Hao placed a hand on Micah's shoulder, his voice low and calm. "You can always crush her later."
Marcella nodded, her amber eyes twinkling with mischief. "Besides, it would be more fun to bring her back with us as a servant." She cocked her head, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Don't you think?"
Micah's jaw tightened. His yellow eyes burned with fury, but then an evil grin began to form on his face—slow, deliberate, sharp as a blade.
"Yeah," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I like that idea."
They moved forward, falling into formation behind Garrett.
---
Yuma Dasan and Aya Calian rushed to stand next to Marya, their feet kicking up clouds of white ash. Aya's breath came in sharp gasps, her dark hair plastered to her forehead.
"I'm Aya," she said, her voice strained but clear. "Aya Calian."
Marya's golden eyes flicked to her, then to Yuma, who was already speaking.
"Yuma Dasan," he said, his voice carrying that soft, melodic quality. "We need to—"
Marya sighed, her expression one of pure exasperation. "I am not interested in—"
Aya cut her off, pleading. "You don't understand! We know our limitations. We know what our future will be if we don't—" Her eyes shifted to the approaching God's Knights, her face pale with fear.
Yuma fell to one knee, dropping his head and lifting his dagger toward Marya. His hands trembled, but his voice was steady.
"My blade and my life are yours," he said. "All I ask is that you ensure Aya returns to lead our people."
Marya cut her eyes at him, her jaw flexing. "Get up."
Yuma didn't move. His voice cracked. "Please."
Aya attempted to protest, but Yuma snapped at her, his voice sharp. "You must live!"
Marya rolled her eyes, her shoulders dropping in a theatrical sigh. She raised a hand, cutting him off. "Stop."
Yuma looked up, his dark eyes desperate. "Name your price. Whatever it is—"
Marya interrupted him with a raised hand. "I will not make any promises I cannot keep. I am here for my brother." She glanced at the approaching horde, then back at Yuma. "As long as you don't cross my line or block my steel, I won't let them tear you apart. Try to keep up."
Yuma and Aya exchanged a relieved glance. Marya gestured toward the incoming threat. "Stand. They are closing fast."
She glanced at Aya, her voice flat. "Can you defend yourself?"
Aya nodded, drawing her dagger, Bashiku, its blade gleaming. "Yes."
Marya nodded in approval, just as the God's Knights fell in line next to her. Garrett on her right, Darcy on her left, Bovee, Marcella, Hao, and Micah spreading out behind them.
Marya lifted Nisshoku across her body, the obsidian blade radiating red with haki. She took a breath, her muscles coiling.
Yuma opened his mouth to ask a question, but Marya was too fast.
She swung Nisshoku in a devastating arc, and a wave of pure Haki erupted from the blade—a rippling crescent of invisible force that tore across the ash plain. It struck the first wave of Salt-Stalkers and Drekavac with a sound like thunder, their crystalline bodies shattering into fine dust that floated away on the hot wind.
The shockwave continued, tearing through the ranks of creatures, reducing them to nothing.
Yuma and Aya stood slack-jawed, their weapons hanging uselessly at their sides.
Garrett stepped up next to Marya, finally drawing Stinger. The blade sang as it left the scabbard, the dry clicking of chitinous legs growing louder. He muttered under his breath, his voice flat. "Show off."
Marya smirked, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Just getting loose, is all."
Darcy Rue stepped up, her executioner's sword raised. "There are more coming in fast."
Bovee whistled low, his pale grey-blue eyes wide. "That was... impressive."
Marcella blinked in astonishment, her amber eyes fixed on the swirling dust. "He wasn't joking when he said she was holding back."
Hao cursed under his breath, his fingers tightening on his arming sword.
Micah's jaw flexed, his yellow eyes burning with irritation. His grip on Kogoroshi tightened, and his knuckles turned white.
The Haki wave continued its path, eventually slamming into a massive crystal spire that rose from the ash like a frozen fountain. The impact caused a violent reaction: a gale force wind erupted from the spire, carrying a deafening resonant tone—a deep, rumbling D minor that shook the ground and vibrated through their bones. The sound wave ripped through the remaining Salt-Stalkers and Drekavac, tearing them apart in a cascade of shattered crystal and ash.
---
Deep within the Monas Cage, Neku lay coiled in his serpent form, his massive crystalline scales shimmering in the dimness. His horned head rested on a bed of calcined ash, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and rhythmic.
The spire's resonant tone reached him.
His eyes snapped open.
Disoriented, he lifted his head, blinking the sleep from his reptilian eyes. His forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air.
"What is this?" he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. He tilted his head, listening to the fading echo of the D minor chord.
His tongue flicked again, and his eyes widened. "This sensation... I know this." He uncoiled slightly, his massive body shifting with a grinding of crystal against stone. "Why do I know this? Why does this feel so familiar?"
Images flashed through his mind—Imu, standing on a throne of shadows, his red eyes burning with contempt. Yuro, the black blade gleaming in the dark. And then... Nika. The Sun God, laughing in the face of oblivion.
Neku's expression shifted. A slow, predatory smile spread across his serpentine face.
"Yes," he said, his voice rising with excitement. "Now I remember. It has been so long."
He began to uncoil, his massive form sliding through the air with serpentine grace. His voice echoed through the wasteland, deep and triumphant.
"Has the time finally come?"
He slithered toward the source of the disturbance, his crystalline body reflecting the harsh light of the clockwork sun. The harmonic hum of the pillars grew louder as he moved, resonating with his presence.
Behind him, the Monas Cage stood silent, its geometric walls pulsing with a faint, rhythmic illumination.
The hunt was about to begin.
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