It started with a whisper.
Late at night, in the quiet of their home, Sakura awoke to the faintest murmur.
"Sakura... hero of flame... wake."
Her eyes snapped open. The whisper wasn't in the air—it was in her bones.
She rolled out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Ragna or Lily. Her sword, sealed and wrapped in spirit-cloth, lay in the hallway storage closet. But tonight, the cloth quivered as if something inside was breathing.
She reached for it.
The moment her fingers touched the hilt, a wave of black static surged up her arm.
Visions.
A battlefield. Ash. Screams.
A sword stained with void.
And Ragna—eyes burning red—standing over a shattered Earth.
Sakura gasped, stumbling backward. The sword hit the ground with a low hum.
"This isn't a dream," she whispered. "It's a warning."
The next morning, over breakfast, Sakura looked pale. Ragna noticed immediately.
"Bad dream, or bad sword?"
"Both," she muttered, poking her rice.
Lily tilted her head. "Sword problems again? Should I get the holy glue?"
Sakura looked at her daughter. Something about the sparkle in her eyes—firelight and sunlight dancing together—gave her an idea.
"We're going on a trip. You and me."
Ragna raised an eyebrow. "Not to a spa, I presume?"
"To the Spirit Realm. The sword is calling. And I think... I think it's being corrupted."
He tensed. "You need backup?"
Sakura smiled softly. "I've got Lily."
That evening, under a star-wrapped sky, Sakura drew a summoning circle on their roof with salt, ink, and powdered starlight.
Lily stood beside her, holding a tiny backpack full of snacks and enchanted plushies.
"Ready?" Sakura asked.
"Do fish fart? Yes. Let's go."
They stepped into the circle.
The world rippled, light turned inward, and the two were pulled into a spiral of memory and spirit.
The Spirit Realm was not a fixed place.
It formed itself from the echoes of the summoner's soul. And tonight, it took the shape of a snow-covered battlefield, frozen in time.
Thousands of broken blades jutted from the ground like bones. Sakura's boots crunched softly across the frost.
Lily looked around. "Is this... one of your old battles?"
Sakura nodded. "The day I almost lost everything. My squad. My soul."
The wind carried another whisper.
"Sakura."
She turned.
There, standing atop a rise of scorched stone, was him.
Ragna.
But not the Ragna she knew. This version wore the full regalia of the Demon King—his eyes hollow, his wings shadowed with malice. Flames danced from his fingertips.
"You let me fall," the memory-Ragna said. "You abandoned the war."
Lily stepped forward, her hands glowing faintly.
"It's not real, Mama. He's just a memory twisted by your fears."
Sakura gripped her sword. "I know. But fear is still sharp."
The corrupted Ragna lunged, and the battlefield erupted.
They fought through three memories.
Each was a twisted reflection: a Ragna who turned against her, a world where she failed to protect Lily, a moment where her blade broke and the light faded.
With every strike, Sakura's sword grew darker, absorbing the spiritual poison seeping from these echoes.
"It's feeding on your doubt!" Lily yelled.
Sakura blocked a blast of fire. "I know! But I can't cleanse it alone!"
Lily's eyes glowed. She stepped into the circle of conflict and summoned her magic.
Flames erupted from her feet—red and gold. Her aura flared, illuminating the memory world with radiant clarity.
She reached out and touched the hilt of her mother's sword.
The spirit inside pulsed.
Lily whispered, "You don't have to carry her pain. Let it go."
The sword shrieked.
Then split open.
Inside was a core of pure light—and pure fire.
A dual element.
The hybrid power of her parents, now mirrored in Lily's very being.
She channeled both.
A spiral of purifying light-fire burst from her palm, wrapping around the sword. The blade shook violently—then calmed.
The corrupted memories cracked and shattered like glass.
Snow turned to starlight. The battlefield faded.
Sakura collapsed to her knees, panting.
Lily knelt beside her. "It's okay now."
Sakura looked at her daughter—hair aglow, cheeks flushed with energy.
"You saved me," she whispered. "Again."
Lily grinned. "Technically, I saved your sword. You owe me ice cream."
When they returned to the real world, it was morning.
Ragna was waiting on the roof with tea.
He saw their worn faces—and Sakura's gleaming, reawakened blade—and nodded.
"So," he said. "Did it talk back?"
Sakura smiled tiredly. "It shut up, finally. Thanks to our firecracker."
Lily plopped into his lap and held up the blade. "Guess what? It's part fire now!"
Ragna looked at Sakura. "That's new."
Sakura nodded. "It's not just a Hero's Blade anymore. It's ours."
Far away, beyond the veil of stars, one of the Nine Rings stirred.
"The hybrid child has awakened a bonded weapon."
Another answered, "Then she is no longer just a child. She's a threat."
The whispers returned.
And the war moved a step closer.