It was dark.
*Cough cough cough*
It was soft.
*Cough cough cough*
"What the hell..?"
Itoshi slowly opened his eyes, his face and hair coated in dust.
Itoshi placed a palm against his head.
"What just happened... Why am I back here..?"
He found himself inside the SUV once again. He was near the trunk with Kirashi. In front of them were Kara and Jayu, treating the kunoichi alongside Aldrin. But Ryujin and Ayro were nowhere in sight.
Before he could gather his thoughts, Kara turned toward him, eyes wide.
"Koya! You're awake!"
Jayu followed with a worried voice.
"Are you okay? Itoshi-nii?!"
Itoshi blinked, his breathing uneven. He looked down at his dusty hands, then back at their faces.
His eyes suddenly widened.
"An explosion!"
~~~A few moments earlier~~~
"You know, Ayro..."
Ayro's back was pressed against the wall, struggling to stay upright as flames danced around him.
His forehead was bloodied, and his left arm rested limply atop his right shoulder. Teeth clenched. The air was thick with the sharp, sickening smell of leaking chemicals.
The bald man approached with slow, confident steps.
"This place is going to blow up soon..."
Il-Min-Song grinned, his voice oozing satisfaction.
"It's unlikely you and your squad will survive it. How ironic, isn't it? A squad meant to protect the people from the Seele's... dying by the very hands of the ones they're 'protecting.'"
Min threw his head back and cackled, eyes gleaming with cruel delight.
Ayro clicked his tongue.
"Tsk."
"He's got the upper hand... And he's not the type to leave 'evidence' behind...
Ryujin... Itoshi... everyone—how are you doing down there?"
He turned his head weakly toward the lower decks, trying to sense any sign of life. But before he could think further, the sound of Il-Min-Song's footsteps grew louder, heavier.
Then—
CRACK.
Il-Min-Song stepped directly onto Ayro's wounded shoulder—the same one he had injured earlier. But Ayro said nothing. His jaw tightened, and his face contorted, but not a single scream escaped him.
"Hoh...? No screams? Impressive, Ayro."
Il-Min-Song actually looked entertained.
"That's amazing... Truly amazing! You're in pain, you're cornered—yet you still won't show weakness. Just like a true apex predator!"
He pressed his foot down harder.
"GRRR!"
Ayro couldn't help but groan, his teeth grinding together from the sheer pressure.
"Look at those fangs!"
The bald man clapped, delighted.
"Corner a beast, and its claws show! I admire that. I really do."
He then knelt, lowering his face closer to Ayro's. His voice dropped to a whisper laced with curiosity.
"You know, Ayro... there's something strange about that 'dark' of yours..."
Ayro took a sharp breath but said nothing.
"In all my years as a... respected seller,"
Min sneered,
"I've never seen anything like it. That 'dark'—it neutralizes flame, creates objects at will. What kind of technology is that?"
Il-Min-Song pressed down harder. Ayro's muscles tensed, but he didn't make a sound.
The bald man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Then, he smirked.
"Unless... it's not technology."
He leaned in closer, his breath brushing Ayro's ear.
"Perhaps... it's a gift."
Ayro froze.
Il-Min-Song's grin widened as he slowly pulled his head back, still keeping his foot firmly on Ayro's shoulder.
Il-Min-Song suddenly burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! I WAS RIGHT, WASN'T I?! IT'S A NEW GIFT!"
Ayro clicked his tongue again.
"Tsk."
Then, calmly—
"Perhaps."
Il-Min-Song blinked.
"Huh?"
A heavy silence fell between them. The flames around them crackled louder, dancing with growing heat. Ayro slowly lifted his gaze.
"Fine," he muttered. "I'll go with your plan."
Il-Min-Song raised a brow. Confused.
"What—"
But before he could finish, Ayro's arm snapped forward—his dark tendril shot out like a spear, aimed straight for the bald man's head.
Il-Min-Song swerved just in time, his shiny scalp catching the firelight.
"Missed! Sloppy!"
Ayro, still crouched, grinned.
"Are you sure?"
The dark tendril dissipated. Il-Min-Song turned his head, following the path of the attack—only to see it had struck a nearby pipe.
A thin hiss echoed. His expression twisted.
"YOU IDIOT! YOUR SQUA—"
BOOM!
The lower deck exploded above them, fire and metal roaring through the corridor.
The flames surged through the ship's halls like a ravenous beast, weaving through every corridor connected to the central deck.
Then—
A massive explosion erupted from the heart of the vessel, shattering metal and glass in a deafening roar.
The shockwave reached the nearby port instantly.
Crowds that had gathered earlier turned in panic as the echo thundered across the water.
"LOOK! THE SHIP EXPLODED!"
"OH NO! THE SQUAD'S STILL IN THERE, RIGHT?!"
"THEY'RE DEAD!!"
Screams spread like wildfire as smoke rose high into the sky, casting a shadow of dread over everyone watching.
But not everyone at the port reacted with fear or sorrow. Amid the chaos, some faces twisted into cruel smirks—delighted by the destruction.
"Pfft. Deserved."
"That's better! No more flame-gifted in the U.W.D.S!"
"THE DEMON CHILD IS DEAD!!"
Their voices cut through the crowd like poisoned daggers—mocking the ones who had risked everything to protect them.
Cheers and jeers mixed with screams and gasps, splitting the crowd in two: those who mourned... and those who celebrated.
Smoke billowed higher into the sky, cloaking the port in a heavy silence that followed the last echoes of the explosion.
On national television, the footage of the ship's sudden explosion lit up every screen across the country. The blast from the central deck played on repeat, its fiery bloom dominating the broadcast.
The sudden explosion sent ripples and a huge blast through the air and sea, shaking everything nearby.
It reached everyone—
Including Ryo, and especially the Trochanters.
Ryo's cyan eye twitched as he stared at the screen.
"Crow... You better not be dead. That explosion was weak."
He gripped the wooden table in front of him, his fingers sinking into the surface—leaving deep marks in the grain.
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit room, eight Trochanters sat frozen. The flickering screen bathed them in ghostly light as the explosion replayed again... and again.
Nali's hands shot up to cover her mouth.
"W-What the hell..? What just happened?.."
Hachi stood stiff, fists clenched at his sides. The others mirrored his tension—none of them spoke, none dared move. They could only watch in grim silence as the ship burned before their eyes.
Il-Min-Song landed hard onto a metallic slab—one that curved just enough to break his fall. Laid out with his back against it, he stared up at the smoky sky, a crooked smile spreading across his face.
He coughed, blood touching his lips as he chuckled.
"Haha... Crazy bastard."
With a grunt, he pushed himself upright. The upper floors of the ship had been completely torn apart—twisted metal and scorched debris all around him. The flames had started to shrink, flickering rather than roaring now.
He calmly brushed the dust from his black coat, straightening it with quiet composure.
He scanned the ruined deck, eyes darting through the smoke as he tapped the comms in his ear.
"Men... report?"
One by one, his men responded. All accounted for. All alive.
Il-Min-Song smirked.
"Heh... Wonder how the squad's doing?"
He strode toward the edge of the blown-out deck, boots crunching over charred debris. Then he froze.
His eyes widened.
"N-No way..."
There it was—the SUV. Untouched. Perfectly intact. The surrounding area was nothing but scorched metal and rubble, yet the vehicle stood untouched in the middle of devastation.
"They're... alive?.."
His voice cracked, rising in fury.
"WHERE ARE THE SCREAMS?! WHERE ARE THE DESPERATE CALLS OF THE LIVING TO THE DEAD?!"
Il-Min-Song's shout echoed through the smoke and twisted steel, swallowed by the silence that followed.
To his left, where the sunlight finally broke through the rising smoke, blue skies framed a figure slowly rising from the rubble.
From beneath the debris—Ryujin emerged.
Il-Min-Song staggered a step back.
"R-Ryujin?!"
Ryujin's right eye glowed a deep, haunting purple as he stood tall, dust cascading off his shoulders.
Il-Min-Song's voice cracked with confusion.
"How did you get here?!"
But Ryujin said nothing.
Il-Min-Song blinked, then let out a long, shaky breath, trying to steady himself as he looked down.
When he looked up again—
Ryujin's form was flickering.
His one visible eye widened in disbelief.
Just for a split second—
He saw not Ryujin... but a towering knight clad in black armor, a shadow of ancient power flickering through the boy's form.
"W-What the hell?.. M-Majestic!"
Il-Min-Song raised his arms out to his sides, a manic grin stretching across his face as Ryujin approached, step by heavy step.
"So...This is the true form of a 'Living Weapon' they speak of!"
The wind stirred around them, carrying ash and heat as the rubble shifted beneath Ryujin's feet.
Il-Min-Song's voice rose with crazed excitement.
"Oh! Truly menacing!"
"Show me!" he shouted, eyes wild.
"Show me your true might, Ryujin!"
Ryujin stopped walking.
He said nothing—just stared at Il-Min-Song, his eyes hidden beneath his bangs, his body unnervingly still.
"Ah..." He muttered under his breath.
Il-Min-Song tilted his head.
"Oh?" he drawled, intrigued by the shift in energy.
Ryujin's voice was low, almost detached.
"Almost lost control... over someone so weak."
Il-Min-Song blinked, then slowly grinned. His grin grew into a laugh.
"Hhiihehe... HAHAHAHA! Not bad! Not bad!"
He clapped his hands once, his single eye gleaming with chaotic approval.
Ryujin's glowing purple eye gradually faded, the eerie light vanishing beneath the shadow of his bangs. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the crackling remnants of fire around the destroyed ship.
Then, slowly, he raised his head.
His gaze was sharp. Focused. Cold.
With deliberate calm, Ryujin lifted his spear. The polished tip gleamed in the sunlight as he pointed it directly at Il-Min-Song.
"This battle is over,"
He said, his voice steady and resolute.
"I'm Gifted with water. You and your men have nothing that can beat me."
His presence alone seemed to weigh down the air around them. Even the wind quieted.
Il-Min-Song stared back at him, lips twitching as he tried to read the boy's face. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a soft laugh.
A broken, tired sort of laugh.
Then louder.
And louder.
"I know..."
He wheezed between chuckles.
"I know, Ryujin. I'm well aware..."
He shook his head slowly, raising a hand to wipe dust from his face as he caught his breath.
"No need to repeat it like some kind of final declaration..."
He tilted his head with that same twisted grin.
"Heh... look at you, standing tall like some righteous weapon."
Ryujin didn't react. He simply kept his spear raised, eyes unblinking.
Il-Min-Song took a shaky step back, the smile still on his face, but something behind his eye had changed—something quieter. Something calculating.
"Tell me..." he muttered. "If you're really that strong..."
He pointed one finger, vaguely gesturing to the wrecked ship behind Ryujin.
"Then why didn't you stop this sooner?"
There was no response.
Ryujin's expression didn't shift. But for a brief second, the silence between them became unbearable.
"Wonder..."
Il-Min-Song's voice rose, mad and theatrical as he raised his hand to the sky.
"What was holding back the greatest weapon of mankind!"
In a single moment, the battlefield shifted.
Ryujin suddenly found himself surrounded—twelve of Il-Min-Song's men emerged from the smoke, their flames roaring to life as their hands ignited with orange and crimson heat.
FWOOOSH!
The flames erupted toward Ryujin all at once—but he reacted immediately.
With swift precision, Ryujin spun his spear in front of him. A wall of water burst to life, clashing against the flames. Steam hissed and filled the air as fire met water. He planted his heel and held his ground, deflecting the final wave with a sweeping motion of his blade.
The flames died.
The men staggered back, momentarily stunned.
Ryujin rebalanced himself, standing still in the center of the formation. He looked at each of them—one by one. Twelve men. All watching him. All with eyes like stone.
None of them moved.
They were waiting. Holding for the signal. Il-Min-Song's hand hovered, ready to drop—ready to unleash them.
But just as he was about to—
BZZZT.
A deep voice came through every comm in the squad's ears. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.
"Il. Fall back."
Everyone froze.
The flame users stiffened, immediately pulling away from Ryujin. Even their heat died down, replaced by a wave of hesitation.
Il-Min-Song's eye twitched. He stomped the floor and smacked the side of his head, tapping his comms.
"VIN! WHAT THE HELL?! WRONG TIMING, MAN!"
Through the comms, the man spoke—calm, unwavering.
"Higher-ups' orders. You've got some explaining to do."
Il-Min-Song let out a long, exaggerated sigh, then stomped the metal floor like a frustrated child.
"Okay, okay!..." he grumbled.
He turned to his men with a sharp wave.
"Men! Move out!"
With practiced precision, the twelve flame users leapt overboard, disappearing into the sea below.
Ryujin's eyes locked onto Il-Min-Song one last time.
Il raised two fingers to his forehead and swayed them mockingly toward Ryujin—
"Ciao!"
—he shouted with a grin, before diving backwards into the sea.
Ryujin stepped up to the deck's edge.
Far below, Il-Min-Song floated lazily on his back, riding the waves as if on vacation. His hands rested behind his head, relaxed and untouchable.
Ryujin narrowed his eyes.
"He's going to get away... The mission is—"
He paused.
The thought lingered.
"Should I...? No. Not again."
He turned away from the sea.
There were more important things.
Without wasting another second, Ryujin rushed back into the wreckage—toward the ruins of the ship. Toward his squad.
His mind raced.
"The girls... where could they be?"
"Are there any survivors... Ayro..."
He tightened his grip on his spear as he pushed forward through the smoke.
Ryujin moved with purpose, cutting through the smoke and fractured metal as he scanned the ruins.
The air was hot, thick with ash and the lingering scent of scorched fuel, but none of it slowed him down. His grip on his spear was firm—but his eyes were frantic.
And then—he saw him.
"Ayro!"
Lying among twisted steel and broken beams, Ayro's body was still, half-buried in debris. Ryujin rushed over, dropping to his knees. Without hesitation, he slipped an arm beneath Ayro's shoulders and gently raised his head off the floor.
"Ayro! Ayro, come on—stay with me!"
There was a moment of terrifying silence.
Then Ayro's eyes fluttered open, slow and heavy, until they met Ryujin's. Despite the blood on his forehead and the pain etched across his face, he gave a faint smirk.
"I'm alright... Thanks for protecting me."
Relief flooded Ryujin's expression, softening the tension in his brow.
"With honor, my dear friend,"
Ryujin replied, his voice quiet but unwavering.
He let Ayro rest against a more stable piece of debris and glanced around them cautiously. The fires were smaller now, but the destruction was still immense. What remained of the ship's structure groaned under its own weight.
"Are you detecting any kind of life?"
Ryujin asked, already turning his ear to the sounds, his gifted senses flaring to life.
By the stern of the ship, deep within the wreckage, a heavy silence clung to a dark, unmarked room—untouched by the flames, but smothered by shadow.
[A few Moments later..]
Itoshi from the outside the dark room. Stepped through a twisted corridor, his breath steady but cautious. He reached a sealed metal door and, with a grunt, forced it open.
CREEEAAAAK.
Sunlight poured in like a blade, slicing through the darkness.
His eyes widened.
The silence was quickly broken—soft, trembling whimpers echoed off the walls. Fragile. Human.
Inside... were women. Huddled together. Terrified.
They recoiled from the sudden light, shielding their eyes and pressing into one another for safety. Some clung to torn fabric, others to each other.
Most wore barely anything. Their skin was bruised, their bodies weak, and their faces streaked with dried tears. Every pair of eyes that met Itoshi's was hollowed by fear.
They had been the ones...
The ones marked for the place with no return.
~~~To be Continued~~~