The moment I stepped out of the medical facility, my body habitually shivered. My attention immediately gravitated to the sky, taking in the bolts of crimson lightning, along with the countless wraiths and ghouls that soured around. Even if this was the industrial complex—an area lacking a large population, these creatures didn't seem to discriminate against populations or minorities.
Booming thunder continued to rumble from clouds that refused to let down any rain. Instead, more lightning shot down, charging at the ground and sending snow and stone into the air. I suddenly heard a clatter behind me, causing me to turn around and assess the situation. Through the foggy, ice-covered windows, I caught sight of a tall and bulky figure, their form and features obscured from the lack of visibility.
Judging by the way their body moved, they seem to be fighting another figure. At this moment, something else came into view. They stood at about the same height, throwing sluggish and sloppy punches, their body stumbling around and lolling to the side. Feeling a rush of both peculiarity and worry, I made my way over to the window and rubbed the residual ice away, peering in through a small hole I made.
Harland—his form towering, was caught in a fight with another patient in the facility. His eyes were wide with what seemed to be both terror and some exhilaration. It was almost like this man was eager to throw punches, yet brutally overwhelmed by the grandeur of his opponent. I watched the fight, my heart jumping in my chest the moment the other patient leapt at Harland, sinking their mottled, golden-colored teeth into the crevice of his neck.
The burly man let out a scream, his meat gloves encircling the throat of his attacker, attempting to dislodge the teeth prodding his skin. After a few shakes, he quickly understood that the strength of the opponent wasn't amplified by otherworldly strength—but rather, raw emotions and unfurled, ravaging fury.
"Y'fuckin bat!" Harland's bulky hands encircled the neck of his attacker, feeling the pulsing flesh beneath his skin. Without wasting any more time, he effortlessly snapped the other patient's neck. The body fell slack, dropping to the floor with a guttural, creaking slam. The sheer impact was enough to crack the wooden floor beneath him, sending chipped planks into the air.
At this moment, Harland let out a low groan as he stumbled back, falling to the ground as his body began to writhe and contrast. His teeth gritted as he habitually reached for his neck, trying his hardest to prevent his airflow from being ripped away by the unseen existence.
While he couldn't see what was attacking him, I saw it clearly—a wraith. Its mouth was wide open, bearing illusory sharp teeth. The creature's face was inches from Harlands, biting and chomping at the air in an attempt to find respite—respite it consuming the soul and essence of its next victim.
"Godammnit," I groaned, running back to the entrance and bursting through the door. Harland instantly looked in my direction, his terrified eyes gaining a new inscrutable layer upon seeing my bodily changes.
"W-what the hell, get away from me!" He cried out, his strained voice rising in pitch.
I tried my best to suppress a chuckle, somewhat satisfied in seeing the previously bulky and intimidating man reduced to a paranoid, trembling husk of his formal self in a matter of seconds. My insectoid limbs twitched as I ran over to Harland, kicking the demon in the face. When it made contact with the wraith, the creature was sent flying backwards, phasing through a box of potatoes.
"I-its y-you ...demon boy," Harland's body trembled as he wearily sat up, slightly dazed. His body swayed slightly as he gazed in my direction.
"You're lucky I saved you, this place wouldn't have had your guidance any longer." I said with a smile.
"Huh?" Harland's face contorted with confusion.
"If you don't let everyone eat here, maybe I will take your soul ...after all..."
I leaned in close to Harland, my lips twitching on the edges as I got close enough to smell his rancid breath.
"...I'm a demon, isn't that right?"
The pair of crimson horns formed atop my head, radiating with malevolent energy. Harland's terrified eyes darted to the sight, and his mouth fell slack. After a few seconds, I flinched the moment he abruptly scooted back and rose to his knees.
"I'm not a demon, you don't..."
I paused for a beat, my face flushing a little. Though I had intended to poke a little fun with Harland, his unexpected reaction only made the entire situation a little embarrassing.
"Just make sure everyone gets their food!" I turned around and ran out of the room, bursting through the door back outside. In the distance, numerous flashes of illusory bright light bounced and rippled through the air, alongside malevolent surges of purplish-black energy. At this moment, I felt a small yet subtle shift in my spirituality.
"The carriage ride here was like ...a long time. How do you think I'll get back there quick enough to help them?"
The Umbridge manifested, slithering out of a shadow cast by a building. The enigmatic figure grabbed an oncoming wraith, holding its writhing form with an iron grip as their illusory mouth chomped its head clean off, burping up spiritual remnants that dissipated into the air.
"Rememebr the last time I teleported you?"
"No ...you never did." I turned to the towering existence, scoffing.
Suddenly, my vision glazed over as a familiar scene replayed in my mind. My eyes—blurry and disorientated, glared at the impending figure of my father kicking the butcher knife to the other end of the kitchen. A surge of crimson and purplish energy engulfed my body like a macabre tide, swallowing everything it encountered.
When I regained my feeling of control, I was splayed on a park bench, with Shinso watching me.
As my vision returned to normal, I stumbled back and suppressed a gasp. "That was you?"
The Umbridge nodded. "I always protect my host; you would've been killed if you were left with your father any longer."
They let out a long sigh and kept explaining. " Unfortunately, my range doesn't exert past my own host, so I couldn't make an attempt to save your mother or teleport the threat elsewhere. But, I assure you we can make it back to your friends in record time."
The Umbridge waved their hand, and I watched as my heart began to race. Before my eyes, an illusory portal formed, composed of crimson and black energy. The Umbridge took a step forward, the stringy lips on their face twitching upwards, bearing their sharp teeth. As more and more of the portal came into view, a tunnel-like structure stretched back for what seemed like infinity.
Vines, flowers, fire, and ashes all formulated on either end of the tunnel, radiating spheres of light and energy. Before I could react, the portal surged in my direction, engulfing me entirely. My body instantly turned illusory, diffusing into my shadowish spirit body. Black horns and wings formed on my back, rippling and pulsing as if they were made of a viscous liquid.
The ground beneath my feet swished around, bubbling and sizzling like an ocean. On either side of the "tunnel," numerous scenes flashed. I let out a low gasp as vines and branches intersected to form a brilliantly vibrant rainforest, layered in countless colored plants and trees. Colorful birds soured above the clouds, and multi-colored primates scaled the thick trees, and insects the size of buses chirped and buzzed.
"The rainforests of the west, very colorful, yet extremely dangerous." The Umbridge ran their boney finger along the contours of the view, rippling and distorting the rainforests projection like water. To my right, fire, ashes, and destruction flared upwards to form a pillar of chaos. The ground—composed of molten lava, bubbled and churned as it spat the scolding contents ashore.
Mountains composed entirely of flesh and blood erected for what seemed like miles, decorated with what seemed like thousands—if not millions of skulls and bones. On the rocky shores, creatures that seemed to be a mixture of deer and scorpion slurped the lava with their forked, ink-black tongues. At the top of the mountain was a massive throne made of obsidian.
I felt a strange yet habitual rush of fear as I stepped back, half-marveling the sight before my eyes.
"Thats the Underworld, where the demons and devils dwell. Ending up there means eternal damnation."
I watched as a pillar of fire and soot shot down from above, formulating into the shape of a human. They had a singular amber eye and snow-white hair—Isaiah Walls!
Before I could see what could unravel, my gaze shifted to a scene above us. I saw an ink-black sky dotted with tiny white stars. Drifting among the void were countless planets, all of different colors. Before I could properly distinguish the galactic behemoths, the Umbridge snagged my jaw and pulled it downwards.
"Don't gaze at the cosmos, it looks back at you with malice." Though their voice was calm, the gravity of the sentence sent a shiver down my spine.
Circling around the environment, I finally asked a question. "What even is this place?"
Upon hearing my question, the enigmatic figure's lips twitched. "The Center, the Hub, it has too many names from too many people. In reality, it's home to Spiritual Creatures like me, and it's the epicenter of all convergence and all that was, is, and will be."
Hearing this, I felt an inexplicable chill course down my spine. "That's a lot of info...shoudn't I be dead or something now?"
The cloaked figure shook their head, chuckling deeply. "Here, I am at my pinnacle of power and strength—technically invisible. Due to your unique spiritual bond, you're also technically invisible."
"But...with that knowledge in the real world, wouldn't I die since I'm not here ...protected?"
They shook their head again, turning around to face the end of the tunnel. "Everything seen here is either known about, or simply told through myth and legend. The Underworld for example, is whispered into the night to scare children into slumber. While the cosmos ...it's a vessel of wonder to those without supernatural abilities."
At this moment, an illusory door formed at the end of the tunnel, ebbing with black and red energy. "We can discuss this later. But now, I'd recommend assisting your friends; they need your help."
The door opened, revealing the ensuing chaos. An army of the undead poured through the streets, clawing and biting at everything they encountered. Bursts of resplendent light emitted from an object in Ayuimi's hands, vaporizing any wraiths and demons that came into contact with her. Torrents of fire shot out from Mr. Ryujin's mouth, charring and burning away at the zombies yet refusing to touch the wraiths and ghouls.
"What the hell!" I felt my face go slightly pale as I watched the ensuing fight.
Turning back to the Umbridge, I chuckled self-deprecatingly and arched an eyebrow.
"You ...expect me to deal with all of that? I thought it..." I trailed off.
The enigmatic figure took a step forward, resting beside the door. Their wormhole-like eyes remained fixated on me as they spoke.
"Size isn't the obstacle, nor are the opponents, it's you. You know what you did back there with Isaiah, and I ensure you can replicate it. In addition, you have your friends as backup."
"So this is sentimental now? Great..." I huffed, crossing my arms.
"No, it's reflection. Think of all you've done tonight, think of the emotions within yourself. You were able to banish your father's influence over you; you've banished a demon greater than those your friends are fighting right now."
"But ...I still didn't apologize to Damien."
The Umbridge extended a hand to my illusory, viscous shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You'll never get to if you don't fix this."
I looked back to the carnage occurring through the illusory door, letting out a long heavy sigh. At this moment, my eyes widened as I turned back to the Umbridge, an idea formulating in my head.
"If I remember correctly, the digestion requirement for Order 9 is to cause as much chaos as you possibly can, right?"
The figure remained silent, nodding their head with a faint tinge of solemnity.
"Well, what if I cause chaos to these demons? It never specified it to be humans or animals!"
Without wasting any time, I leapt through the illusory door. My body surged forward, trembling a little as I adjusted to the sensation of real ground beneath my feet. The Apocalypse sigil on my forehead continued to burn and char, and crimson veins ran down my neck and back. A pair of illusory, crimson horns perched atop my head, radiating with a malevolent, almost tantalizing energy.
Everyone—including the wraiths and zombies—turned to face me. Ayumi and Shinso remained frozen in their spots, their eyes wide with a mixture of amazement and terror. Mr. Ryujin took a step back, while Raymond couldn't help but smile.
"I-is that ..." Before Ayumi could finish her sentence, Raymond stepped towards her, having no effect of the enrapturing effect.
"Yes, but I'd have to say ...I don't find the bug-like appendages appealing."
I ignored their words, stepping forward, the ground trembling slightly beneath my feet. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, trying my hardest to center myself amidst the turmoil and chaos. This was my one and only moment not to show my power, but to fix all that was wrong with it. I may not know much about this power aside from the fact that it's evil at its core.
Evil cannot truly vanish—but remade. It'll never truly disappear. As long as it exists, so will chaos and turmoil. I do not want to attain strength for my own benefit—to topple empires, shatter mountains and rule over everything. I want to show others that those with their own demons, demons that force them down roads of suffering and pain, can—and will overcome them.
My father may have been a brand in my mind, unyielding and chaotic, forcing my own psyche to consume the potion that gave me these abilities. But a brand isn't always permanent, but it'll never not have been there. I have been beaten, intimidated, and lashed at—because I am who I am—I am a human, a human who has every aspect of one.
Every so often I think back to the cherry tree I'd read under in the park, the same park I saw and met Ayumi in, the same park where me and Shinso truly began to develop a more layered kinship. Back then, I sought routine, safety, to bind myself to that endless, tortuous cycle of degradement and torture. I was too scared to admit that I was too weak, so I'd lash out and toss a gift basket, screaming to the moon about my problems.
My problems may still remain, but with everyone and everything I have—friends—people who care about me, I'm sure I'll make it out of this hellscape and return home. Then, I can help my mother, I can live better, more accepting of who I am. I was quirkless; I wanted power. I didn't know what a hero was, now I do.
Anyone willing to lose themselves, make sacrifices, and fight no matter what they have, is the light that burns away shadows and darkness!
I extended my hand, clenching my fist taut. A few demons that remained frozen let out inhuman, guttural shrieks as they gravitated to my palm, absorbing into my being. The moment that happened, an agonizingly cold chill coursed through my body, making me shiver a little.
"Look out!" Ayumi cried.
Suddenly, a zombie lunged at me, tackling me to the ground. Its face was inches from mine—biting and chomping at the air, trying feebly to consume my flesh. I tried to push it away, but the sheer weight of it made my arms tremble. Even if I had supernatural abilities, my physical strength always seemed to remain mortal.
Shinso—who was watching from the sidelines—grit his teeth as he darted over, taking out his handgun and shooting the zombie through the side of its head. The moment it happened, the zombie fell slack, its eyes rolling back as it slumped on top of me.
"Damn it..." I grunted, my voice muffled.
With a herculean effort, Shinso managed to roll over the zombie, helping me up onto my feet. Before I could recover, a cluster of wraiths flew in Shinso's direction. It seemed that the moment the zombie attacked me, that strange intimidation in the air dissipated. The indigo-haired boy fumbled with his gun, but failed to make a move in time.
I extended my palm again, pulling the wraiths toward me with an unseen current of energy.
"When the hell could you do that? And..." Shinso's eyes raked over my body, taking in my bug-like, inhuman appearance.
"Yeah ...the Demon Maggot Disease finally decided to show itself." I rolled my eyes, a twitchy smile forming on my face.
I turned back to the horde of the undead stumbling towards me. In the crimson moonlight and lightning, I caught sight of their clothing. Most—if not all of them were clad in regular farm attire that slumped off their shriveled, disgusting forms. After noticing something, I felt my heart sink to my feet as I assessed the predicament.
"They're all possessed; those poor things," I mumbled under my breath.
"Huh?" Shinso arched an eyebrow.
"Their need for human flesh is only because the wraiths inside them can't consume souls. These zombies aren't zombies, they're puppets that want to rest—corpses long past their time."
"Shit," Shinso turned back to the zombie with a hole above its ear, hissing between his teeth.
"If I can extract the wraiths inside them, their already degenerating bodies will naturally dissipate." A small smile formed on my face as I stepped forward, my insectoid limbs curling into fists.
Every undead creature let out a low growl, before darting in my direction. I closed my eyes, the Apocalypse sigil on my forehead glowing more prominently as I clenched my fists. The zombie closest to me fell to its knees, keening and whimpering as its mangled hands darted to its throat, tearing at the mottled, grayish-green skin.
"You can rest now," I whispered as a wraith soured out of its body, screaming in terror as it naturally gravitated to my body.
"Keep going," The Umbridge's voice sounded in my mind.
The illusory crimson horns on my head buzzed as more and more zombies fell to their knees, struggling and writhing as their hosts were torn from their bodies, uniting with my own consciousness and spirit. At this moment, a strange yet pleasurable sensation echoed through my back. This sensation was accompanied with moans and groans—protests to life—and demonic laughter.
Ayumi's jaw fell slack as she observed the changes on my back. The glossy, insect-like wings on my back gradually crumbled like dust. Illusory, writhing wings composed entirely of spirits began to form. Within the malevolent wings, countless pairs of eyes and mouths sprouted, laughing and mocking the other entities that would soon meet their fate.
"Godamn..." Shinso took a step back, a small yet impressed smile forming on his face as my body slowly lifted into the air.
The shadowy wings flapped, sending ripples of energy surging through the kingdom. The crimson horns atop my head grew brighter, ebbing and pulsing, crackling with fiery energy as more and more zombies collapsed, their possession abruptly ending. Sure, the sensation of more and more wraiths entering my body was slightly overwhelming, but I could sharply feel the environment gradually grow softer and colder.
Everyone below watched with wide eyes as the final zombie collapsed, disintegrating into nothingness as its ghastly host flew from its body, souring directly into my palm. The moment the last of the enemies in the kingdom united with my own spirit, my eyes slowly opened—my vision turning blurry as I lost consciousness.
The illusory wings on my back instantly vanished, and I began plummeting back down to Earth. Shinso reacted quickly, darting over and catching me before I hit the ground.
His eyes softened as he gazed at my unconscious body, sighing softly as he smiled. "Y'damn idiot. Always hurting yourself for others."
...
Humphrey stepped out of Catherine and Carter's house, bleeding profusely from his left eye. He stumbled out onto the porch and sat down, taking light, shaky breaths.
"Hey, you alright?" Shinso ran over, kneeling down.
"Yeah, yeah ...what happened with your friend?"
Shinso looked back at the medical vehicle escorting me away, smiling softly. "He kinda fixed all this chaos."
"No, did he just grow wings or something?" Humphrey's partially immobile eyes widened a sliver.
Shinso remained silent for a moment before replying with a little hesitancy. "He kinda did, I guess."
"What the hell happened?" A voice suddenly sounded from the street.
Humphrey and Shinso turned their heads, catching sight of Catherine, and Carter rushing down the street.
"W-wait ...those are," Humphrey's hand habitually reached for his gun.
Before anything drastic could happen, Shinso knocked the weapon away. The gun tumbled into the snow-covered street. At this moment, the front door burst open, and countless Pollinators aimed their weapons at the duo.
Catherine and Carter instantly turned to face them, habitually reaching for their weapons.
"Stand down, Humphrey's orders." Shinso spread his arms, indicating to the group not to shoot their weapons.
"Who is he to give orders?"
He turned to face the Pollinator who said that, shaking his head. "I'd be happy to fight for their innocence later. For now, their fates are uncertain."
He turned back to Humphrey, smiling almost snarkily. "Tell the new captain to hold off this matter, we'll settle this in better circumstances."
...
Did I really... die in your world?" Oboro's hands clutched around his drink, trembling slightly.
Aizawa nodded his head, his gaze drifting away to the countertop. Olivia, who sat beside him, let out a long sigh.
"We were training to be heroes; it was our first mission. Y-you got crushed by falling rocks and I was too stupid to—"
Oboro planted a sharp slap to Aizawa's face, causing him to wince and rub the spot. "What was that for?"
The man with cloud-like blue hair took a sip of his drink, smirking softly, "Don't let the past rummage up your present. Y'gotta learn to forget and forgive."
He stood up, now smiling as he spread his arms. "Look at me, I'm alive—I'm real. He may have died in your world, but I didn't die in this one."
Oboro sat back down, pushing his drink aside as he nudged Aizawa's shoulder. "Look at what just happened. We all fought those demons and stuff, and we turned out fine. You've grown since then—you've changed for the better."
He leaned in even closer, his expression softening slightly. "How bout' we just share a drink, three friends in a bar together?"
"Four..." Aaron sat in the corner, looking down at the table. His green eyes remained still like endless pools of water, unending and dark.
"Y'ok, Aaron?" Oboro turned around in his seat, facing Aaron with a complicated expression.
The older man looked up at him and chuckled dryly. "Of course I am, I have friends all around me!"
Something within Aaron's expression told the trio that his words were paper-thin. Even if the man bore a smile, it was shaky and fragile like glass. Oboro looked at Olivia and Aizawa, letting out a long, deep sigh.
"I think the drinks can wait. We're all tired and exhausted. C'mon, let's have some stew back at my place."
Without saying anything else, Oboro stood up from his seat, walking to the door and leaving the bar alongside Aaron, Olivia, and Aizawa.
...
My eyes opened, and I was greeted by the sterile smells of a medical facility. I could tell immediately it was the one I had spent the last few days inside, as a group of familiar doctors stood over my bed, checking my condition.
"He's awake, you guys can come in." Doctor Clancey lowered her mask, calling to the door. Not even a second later, a group of people walked into the room.
Oscar, Daisy, and Ruth walked into the room, their eyes all sunken and dark. Even amidst these changes, they still smiled at me.
"I have to say, you're not as much as a pussy—" Daisy's jab to the ribs cut Ruth off in the middle of her snarky comment.
"He's recovering, you bluck. I don't think he wants to hear what you have to say."
I leaned up in my bed, still clad in my ruined, wet medical facility attire. My expression softened as I looked towards the door, taking note of its vacancy.
"I can see why he didn't decide to come." My gaze drifted down to the pillows as I let out a trembling sigh.
"You can just tell him I'm sorry; I don't think he wants to see me."
"A-actually..." A soft voice permeated the air, barely audible.
A small figure with ice-white hair, matching white eyes, clad in the same light gray attire as me, walked into the room. It was Damien!
"...I do want to see you."
Damien's body trembled as he walked into the room, his small frame shaking like a leaf in the wind. He stood still for a small moment, the boy's large yet sunken eyes meeting my own. Suddenly, he leapt at me, his arms clinging tightly around my shirt as his head buried into my chest, wracking with small, inscrutable sobs.
"Oh... kid." My heart stopped beating for a few seconds, a trail of goosebumps running up my body.
Warm, salty tears began to sprinkle in the corners of my eyes, tears I barely tried to contain. I held the boy close, my own eyes clenching shut, my head burying into the kids hair, inhaling his musky fragrance. It was like holding my own child.
I sat like this for what seemed like hours, sniffling softly as the boy's trembling stopped—the gentle rise and fall of his chest the only ambient noise.
...
2 DAYS LATER
...
"C'mon, it's almost freezing!" I protested, immensely reluctant to get out of bed.
Shinso scoffed, tugging on his vest that hung beside the door. He adjusted his collar, fastening it around his neck as he smiled in my direction.
"Why would you be in a fancy getup if you're gonna be in bed all day?"
"Good point, those aren't even comfortable pajamas," Damien chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom.
Both of their gazes seemed to bore into my soul, burning away at my very being. With a surge of final reluctance, my body sluggishly trailed out of bed. By now, the insectoid limbs on my body had disappeared, but the strange feeling of them always seemed to cling to me. I looked out at the crimson moon, swallowing my spit.
"Are you sure we should do this?"
"It's just a walk in the woods, nothing dangerous." Shinso interjected, tossing Damien his coat.
Damien fumbled with the buttons for a few moments before finally getting it right. He took a step back, admiring himself in the mirror like a valiant knight.
"Wasn't Amy supposed to join us?" He asked, turning back to me.
"Her name's Ayumi. And yes, she will be."
...
"Damn... the snow's quite pretty when there's no big storm coming down from the sky," Ayumi ran her gloved hand across the trunk of a tree, feeling the rough texture beneath her fingertips.
She then turned to Shinso, smirking like a Cheshire cat. "I know why you brought us out here."
Hearing her words, Shinso's face flushed a little. He raised his collar over his cheeks, shivering a little. "Damn, I was kinda right."
At this moment, a snowball shot through the air, hitting him in the back of the head. Shinso's body snapped around, his face now bearing tell-tale annoyance.
"Look, the pussy-cat's all angry!" Damien chuckled, balling more snow and tossing it at Shinso.
"Shut up you little twerp!" Shinso knelt down to pick up some snow, but he paused for a beat and looked in my direction.
I stood on the edge of the forest, looking out into the cluster of evergreen trees that ran for what seemed like miles before stopping in front of the mountains. The crimson moon was now highest in the sky, casting ethereal light down onto my form.
"Y'sure you can't just grow wings and... I donno, fly me around?" Shinso smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck as he walked over to me.
My body immediately tensed, my cheeks heating profusely. A small tingle ebbed in my back, and my head began to buzz a little.
"I don't know, maybe I could, maybe I couldn't." I turned around, taking a deep breath.
I then looked up at the crimson moon, my smile twitching slightly. "Though, I kinda like this world. We may not get home for a while, but any world I'm in is worth protecting, because I have people that care about me in them."
"Yeah, I like that too," Shinso's voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned in closer, his indigo eyes narrowing slightly.
His hand found my chin, cupping it lightly and nudging it in his direction. The distance between our faces was only a few milimeters—Shinso's breath refreshingly hot against my face, a contrast to the cold around us.
"I know you've changed deep down, but you're too damn stubborn to show it on the surface."
My eyes widened the moment our lips collided, the pleasurably warm sensation coursing through my body. I let out a little moan, leaning in closer to his embrace. I felt Shinso's hands wrap around my waist, pulling me in a little closer, backing us up into a tree. The kiss was light, yet contained the weight of a hundred suns.
Our lips parted only for a moment, my breath coming in short gasps—my eyes narrowed with pleasure and desire.
"D-damm..."
Shinso smirked like a demon, his hands still wrapped around my waist. He pulled me in closer, embracing me in a warm hug.
"Hey, what the hell?" Ayumi ran over, immediately wrapping her own arms around us.
Shortly after, I felt a pair of two tiny arms wrap around my waist as Damien joined the embrace too.
This moment may have been small, but it was with people who saw me for who I was. I wasn't someone who was misunderstood, I'm someone who's still lost in this world. Somewhere out there are Angels and Gods, cosmic stuff beyond my comprehension. But I'll figure it all out soon.
For now, I'd rather spend my time with people who care about me. People who see me as both a loser, and a winner. A lover, and a broken boy.
But most of all, the boy who read under a cherry tree in the park, who loved long books, who sat alone when eating lunch.
People who saw me and loved me.
That's what mattered most.
I am still a loser for sure, and I'm proud to fit that role. Me, Shinso, and Ayumi can be losers together.
I'm sure of it.
…
Hanging over the countless evergreen trees were azure skies and fluffy clouds—alongside the occasional bird that cawed loudly. Overall, it was a tranquil scene if you ignored the thick, vicious smoke coming from the middle of the field.
There was smoke.
Lots of it.
The snow had been burnt, along with the grass. The now light colored blades incinerated by the roaring flames. The villagers scurried in a panic, screaming and crying as everything they knew was burnt to the ground—to ashes—never to be seen again, no trace of its existence condemned to memory.
The last thing they saw when they looked back was a crimson banner raised high over the ruins, flapping in the artificial wind.
"He is coming, and you can't stop it." was scrawled in an ancient language.
END OF VOLUME 1: THE LOSER