"Ayro!!!"
Ryujin cried Ayro's name into the hush of night, his footsteps pounding the shadowed street with urgency.
Behind him, Kirashi and Itoshi stirred from restless dreams, roused by the edge in his voice, and moved to follow.
Ayro heard Ryujin's call, turning with quiet grace. His eyes were serene, arms folded like still waters untouched by storm.
"Let's go?"
"Yes. Hurry!"
From the window above, Kara's voice drifted down like wind through leaves—soft, pleading.
"Let me come with you guys!"
But Itoshi stood firm, his voice low and heavy with concern. He wanted nothing more than for his sister to rest—to save her strength for the battles yet to come.
"You should take a rest, Kara! It's going to be quite a battle again. I'm sure of it!"
Kara looked down in silence, shadows veiling her eyes, whispering a sorrow louder than any scream.
"You think I can't help?"
"It's not that—"
Itoshi pleaded.
"Let me come! I'm part of this squad too!"
She reasoned.
Ryujin listened as the two clashed, the tension sharp in the night air. Then Kara's words softened, steady and certain—and they lit something in him.
A slow smile crept across his face as he spoke.
"Let her come. She's a part of this squad."
Light brushed Kara's face, faint but full of promise. Itoshi said nothing—what could he do? In the end, the choice belonged to the squad leader.
~~~U.W.D.S. Asia HeadQuarters~~~
As each squad faced battles in their own fractured corners of Japan, the Trochanters watched from on high—silent sentinels within the towering halls of the United World Defense Society, their presence a looming authority over the mission that bound them all.
The death of a key member from Squad 330 still haunted their Trochanter, a shadow that refused to lift. With a tight throat, he asked to be excused from the meeting, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to Mr. Hasegawa, the old neck of authority, seeking a brief respite.
On one of the screens, the display flickered to life, revealing the squads in their silent struggle.
Clear details of each mission unfolded, with rankings of the eight squads laid bare—each number a story, each line a testament to the ordeal they faced.
"Hm... Squad 663 in third place, huh... Nali's squad is in rank one, 300 points ahead of Squad 152... Ryujin, you've got quite the gap to bridge."
Hachi thought to himself.
"Yo, Hachi. Aren't you gonna watch over your squad? They're facing their battle in Nagasaki now too, you know."
The Trochanter of Squad 220 warned, voice cutting through the hum of the control room.
Hachi fixed his gaze on his comrade as the words fell into silence, then slowly turned—his eyes drawn to the screen where the battles of each squad unfolded in real time, their every move played out in the harsh light of the live broadcast.
All that Hachi replied was,
"Are they now?.. "
"Heh... still reckless as ever, huh? Hachi?"
Nali, the Trochanter of Squad 97, chuckled from her seat.
"I know, right!"
The sudden shout of agreement from the Trochanter of Squad 660 rang through the room, deafening in its urgency.
Nali flinched, her hands instinctively rising to cover her ears, as if to shield herself from the raw power of his voice.
"You're too loud!"
Nali barked back.
"Ah, my bad."
"It's not like I'm being reckless now... It's more like, I trust them."
Hachi stated, voice low but definite.
"Heh?.. You said the same thing with Squad Segment 11 though."
Nali mocked, testing him.
Hachi simply stared at Nali, his expression unreadable, offering no words in return—his silence a quiet contrast to the chaos around them.
~~~Kanto Region, Tokyo~~~
[Squad Segment 97]
"So.. Squad 663 has finally joined the fight huh?"
In a humble shack on the outskirts of Tokyo, the members of Squad 97 found their rest. The only light came from the waxing crescent moon, its pale glow casting long shadows, as the night whispered softly around them.
"Heh?.."
he shack lay in darkness, but the smile of the squad leader pierced through, casting a much darker aura, a twisted light that seemed to swallow the room, bending the very air around it.
"Show me... Ryujin-kun~"
~~~Kyushu Region, Nagasaki Prefecture~~~
[Squad Segment 663]
All five official members of Squad Segment 663 surged down the quiet evening roads of Nagasaki, their footsteps echoing in the hush.
Amid the rush, Ryujin raised his comm and reached out to Hachi, his voice steady as he requested a ride through the growing stillness.
"Hachi-san?"
"Yeah, Your ride is coming."
Hachi replied through his comms, installed on his ear.
At the end of the street, a convoy of trucks rumbled to a halt, their engines humming low like a warning.
Each bore the emblem of a sword crossed behind a shield—an unmistakable mark that cut through the dark like a blade of purpose.
One of the truck doors swung open with sudden force, breaking the stillness.
From within, a blonde man stepped out, his grin wide and eyes alight—greeting the squad with a burst of unshaken enthusiasm that clashed against the night's heavy quiet.
"Yo!"
One by one, they climbed aboard, the weight of doubt left behind. In the stillness of the night, they placed their trust in the ride ahead—silent oaths exchanged through glances rather than words.
"Ok men! We have them with us! Let's roll out!"
"Roger!"
His men all chanted in unison.
The truck's electric core began to hum, then roared to life with a rising pitch.
All its horsepower surged into the rear wheels, unleashing a burst of torque that spun the tires—carving the silence with the sharp scent of burned rubber, a ghostly aura swirling in its wake.
The sudden burst of speed jolted the squad—eyes wide, hands gripping whatever they could find.
But Ryujin and Ayro sat unmoved, steady as stone, their calm cutting through the rush like still water beneath a storm.
"What the hell! They drive fast!!"
Itoshi panicked.
"This is amazing!!!!"
Kirashi shouted, laughing as the truck drifted through the empty streets.
Meanwhile, Kara just hung from her seatbelt, absolutely terrified.
"Ryujin! Some of the Field Men are already in the area! It'll take us about twelve minutes to get there!"
The driver reminded.
"Ok! Thanks! Hurry!"
Ryujin replied.
"There are quite a lot of them—mostly Earth types. Ranging from Megalo Class to Größer als Männer Class."
The driver added.
"Ok! I'm gonna be the MVP for this battle."
Kirashi said confidently, his grin wide.
"And... there's a n-ninja... fighting them."
The driver added.
Ayro flinched—barely, but enough—as the driver casually mentioned a ninja.
The word cut through the hum of the engine like a whisper with weight, stirring something buried just beneath his composed exterior.
"A ninja, you say?!"
Itoshi asked.
The vehicle turned sharply right—planting Itoshi's face against the window.
"Yes. It's taking care of the Earth-type ones."
"So she's a wind user, huh?.. "
Ayro muttered to himself, just enough for Ryujin to hear.
"Do you know him, Ayro?"
Ryujin asked, glancing his way.
"Not a him. A her. She's the girl that hit me in the restaurant this morning."
Ayro replied.
"Aw man... I wanted to show off... Wait... she's a female ninja?!"
Excitement danced openly across Kirashi's face, impossible to hide.
He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming—not just from the thrill of the ride, but from the thought of impressing the wind-wielding kunoichi who lingered in his mind like a breeze before the storm.
"You're really excited, huh?.. "
Itoshi raised a brow, eyes locked on Kirashi.
"I wonder if she's hot..."
Itoshi thought to himself.
"Thank you for the updates, Bjorne-san."
Ryujin hushed.
Bjorne, the driver, replied.
"Anytime, kid."
In the hazy spring evening of Nagasaki, a convoy of seven trucks emblazoned with the mark of the United World Defense Society sped toward Shioizaki Park.
The streets echoed with the sound of their engines, cutting through the thickening twilight.
Not far behind, another convoy—the domain of the World Elemental Special Control Unit—also surged toward the same destination, their trucks rumbling with a force of their own.
Two powers, converging on a single point—each with its own mission—as the city held its breath in the growing dusk.
As the convoys neared Shioizaki Park, the air thick with anticipation, the future hung in a fragile balance.
Would there be a clash between the United World Defense Society and the World Elemental Special Control Unit—two forces with their own agendas, each claiming the right to control the city's fate?
Or would they be forced to unite—to shield the historical heart of Nagasaki from a greater threat looming in the shadows?
And what of the kunoichi—would she choose to cooperate, or would her allegiance lie elsewhere, her true intentions a mystery only the wind could whisper?
Across Nagasaki, and throughout Japan, the uncertainties stretched as wide as the horizon, waiting to unfold with the first move.
~~~To be Continued~~~