The night had finally given way to morning. A pale shaft of sunlight streamed through the jagged crack in the ruined temple ceiling. Dust floated in the golden light, settling on broken pillars and scattered stones. Outside, the world was waking—but inside, silence lingered, heavy and quiet.
Laine leaned against the wall. His sword rested against his shoulder, the mask clinging to his skin like it had always been a part of him. He hadn't slept. Airi, curled in the corner like a fragile bird, had managed a few moments of rest before stirring. She blinked slowly at the light, watching him adjust his dark robe.
"…Are you going somewhere?" she asked softly, her voice trembling in the quiet.
Laine paused. His hand brushed the hilt of his sword. "…This place isn't safe," he said finally, low and steady, carrying the weight of unspoken thought.
Airi frowned, confusion clouding her small face. She stepped closer, bare feet tapping softly against the stone floor. Her trembling hands gripped the hem of his robe.
"Wait… don't leave me."
The touch was light, but it pulled something deep inside him. Slowly, he turned to meet her wide, fearful eyes. There was no anger there, only a fragile hope.
"You'll be safer here," he said quietly.
"No!" she shook her head. "I don't have anyone. If you leave… I'll be alone again!"
The words cut deep. Alone again… he had walked cold nights, seen betrayal, blood, and death. Yet here, in her trembling voice, something stirred—a spark he hadn't felt in years.
"I… I'm not someone you should follow," he said, voice rough and bitter.
"I don't care," she said fiercely, tears welling in her eyes but her voice unwavering. "I don't care if it's hard. I don't care if it's scary. I just… I don't want to be nothing anymore. You… you didn't treat me like nothing. You… you care for me. And I want… I want you to be my brother."
The last words struck him like a jolt. Brother. Such a simple word, yet it pressed against the armor of his rage and darkness.
Silence fell. Dust floated in the light. Laine's jaw clenched. His shadow stretched long across the temple floor.
"Brother?!" His voice erupted like thunder. "Do you even understand what you're saying? Do you know what I am?!"
The mask pulsed violently. Shadows bled from it, spreading across his skin. Power leaked from him, heavy and suffocating, pressing against the small figure before him.
"You… don't know me," he growled, voice jagged and dark. "I have killed. I have taken lives, destroyed families, burned names into ashes. And you—" He stepped closer, teeth clenched. "You dare call me brother?!"
Airi flinched, but she didn't let go of his robe. Her hands shook, yet her eyes were steady, unyielding.
"…Yes," she said again, louder this time, voice trembling but determined. "I want you to be my brother."
The words hit him harder than any blade. His chest tightened. The mask pulsed again, veins spreading like ink, urging him to crush her, to silence the hope in her tone.
He stepped closer, towering over her. "You don't understand! I will drag you into darkness, I will taint you, I will destroy everything that touches me! I am no man's brother—I am a monster!"
Darkness writhed around him, threatening to consume the temple. The Berserker Sword vibrated against his back, feeding on his fury.
Airi gasped but held her ground, tears streaming. Her small voice rose, defiant:
"You're wrong! You're not a monster to me! I don't care how many you've killed! I don't care what people call you! You didn't throw me away! You didn't look at me like trash! You stayed! You fed me! You saved me! Monsters don't do that!"
Her voice cut through the choking fog, louder than his anger.
Laine's hand shook on his sword hilt. The mask screamed at him, whispering venom, but her words pierced the storm.
"You can shout! You can scare me! But it won't change what I feel. To me… you're my brother. And nothing—you hear me—nothing you say will change that!"
The darkness wavered. The oppressive aura trembled, faltering under the weight of her stubborn innocence.
Laine staggered back, clutching at the mask. His chest heaved, breaths jagged. The sword quieted, shadows shivering in retreat.
Finally, the suffocating weight eased. The temple walls stopped trembling. Morning light spilled through the crack, bathing them in gold.
Laine lowered his head, hair falling over his eyes. His voice was hoarse, broken. "…Why? Why call a killer like me brother? Why would anyone stay and fight for me… when everyone else would leave?"
Airi's tears glistened in the morning light, but she didn't flinch. "…Because you're the only one who doesn't make me feel like I'm nothing. I don't care if the world thinks you're a monster. To me… you're the only person left."
Silence fell, heavy and fragile. Laine's jaw clenched as he grappled with her words. The mask pulsed faintly—a reminder of his darkness—but her voice, small yet unwavering, cut through the shadows of his heart.
Slowly, he let his hand drop from the mask. Darkness ebbed, retreating like a tide. "…Then I'll carry this curse with you," he whispered at last, rough but steady, trembling at the edges. "If you want me as a brother… then I'll be one. Even if the world calls me a monster… I'll be your monster."
Airi's sob turned into a fragile laugh. She pressed her forehead against his robe, gripping it tight. "…That's enough."
Laine exhaled, long and heavy. The temple, once oppressive and dark, seemed to breathe with them. Morning light spilled over broken stones and pillars. Shadows still lingered, but inside, hope—fragile, flickering—burned brighter than ever.
"…Stay close," he murmured. "…Learn. Survive. And remember, even in darkness… light is something you must hold yourself."
"I will," she whispered, gripping him tighter. "…I'll survive."
The temple seemed to pause, as if watching them. Outside, the world waited—harsh, cruel, and unyielding—but inside that ruined sanctuary, two souls, broken yet unyielding, stepped forward together.
Then, without warning, a faint metallic scrape echoed from the far end of the temple. It wasn't the wind. It was deliberate—slow, deliberate, patient.
Laine stiffened instantly, every instinct screaming. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword. Shadows stirred at the edges of the room.
Airi clutched his robe tighter. "…What is it?" she whispered, voice trembling.
"I don't know," Laine muttered, eyes narrowing. "But it's not friendly."
The light from the morning crack flickered, swallowed by the shadows creeping across the temple floor. The Berserker Sword vibrated against his back, humming low, hungry.
A figure emerged from the darkness, silent, impossibly still. Its silhouette seemed almost unreal—human, yet radiating death.
Laine's chest tightened. His mask pulsed violently—half-white, half-black—as if warning him of the darkness he had not yet faced.
"…Stay behind me," Laine commanded, voice low, protective, and cold.
Airi nodded, gripping his arm tighter.
The figure stepped closer. Each movement was deliberate. The temple's walls groaned as if alive. Dust fell from the shattered ceiling.
And then, a voice—calm, soft, almost mocking—echoed through the temple:
"Finally… I've found you."
Laine's hand tightened around the sword hilt. His heart raced. The shadows surged. The room grew colder, heavier.