Sezel's voice echoed in the silent surroundings. He strode forward with a confident, unwavering gait, as if the thought of being hidden, of being unseen, was now beneath him. Vesta and Shiki moved with the same strange certainty, their steps purposeful, their eyes fixed on some unseen goal ahead. It was as if they knew exactly where they were going
Mari simply followed, clutching Sezel's hand tightly, her small fingers digging into his palm. But he seemed not to notice, his attention lost in something more important, something more exhilarating. He walked with a smile on his face.
The Spectral Flesh Reaper, Sezel's puppet also followed behind, a being of no understanding.
They rushed towards the metallic cylinder, its colossal form growing with every hurried step. Suddenly, Mari stopped dead in her tracks, her small body pulling against Sezel's hand. "Stop… Stop, mister," she pleaded, her voice small and broken, trembling with an unseen terror.
