Chapter 2: The Stench of Silver
The Kansei Giant did not fall. It collapsed into itself.
Under the weight of Zeki's single command, the creature's massive skeleton had splintered like dry kindling. Its grey, textured flesh was now nothing more than a heap of smoking meat pressed deep into the crater of the alleyway.
Zeki stood over the ruin, his chest heaving. The white-hot heat of the Seventh Seal was slowly receding, leaving behind a bone-deep chill. The dark blue smoke still clung to his knuckles, flickering like dying embers.
What... was that?
"Zeki!"
A pair of small, frantic hands grabbed his shoulders, spinning him around. It was Nara. Her eyes were wide with a terror he hadn't seen since they were children. She wasn't looking at the dead giant; she was looking at him.
"Your eyes," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They were... they were glowing, Zeki. Like ice."
Zeki blinked, and the world seemed to settle back into its grey, dull reality. "Nara, you shouldn't be here. The gates—"
"The gates are closed," she cut him off, her grip tightening. "But that doesn't matter. Look."
She pointed toward the main thoroughfare of the Low Sector. Through the settling dust, a flash of polished metal caught the neutral daylight.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The rhythmic sound of heavy plate armor. The Silver-Guards of House Shiro.
"They felt it," Zeki muttered, his blood running cold.
A Kansei dying was one thing. A Kansei being crushed by a gravity-pulse that could be felt from the inner city was another. If they found a survivor in the center of this crater, they wouldn't ask questions. They would execute him on the spot just for being a witness to a "forbidden" power.
"Hide the mark," Nara hissed. She grabbed a handful of the giant's thick, viscous grey blood from the ground and smeared it across Zeki's chest, over the glowing lines of the Seal. She threw a tattered, oil-stained worker's cloak over his shoulders. "Don't speak. Don't look up. You're just a scavenger who got lucky. Understand?"
Zeki nodded numbly.
The guards rounded the corner. There were six of them, led by a Captain in a plumed helmet. They didn't look like men; they looked like statues of cold silver, their spears tipped with Aura-Glass that hummed with a low, predatory frequency.
The Captain stopped at the edge of the crater. He looked at the mangled heap that was once a 100-meter threat, then his gaze drifted to the two orphans huddled in the shadow of a broken shack.
"Explain this," the Captain commanded. His voice was like grinding stones.
Nara stepped forward, her head bowed low, her voice a perfect mask of a terrified peasant. "The wall, Great Lord! When the beast climbed, the stone gave way. The upper battlement fell right onto its neck... we were just trying to find scraps from the wreckage."
The Captain narrowed his eyes. He looked up at the wall, where a jagged chunk of stone was indeed missing. Then he looked at Zeki.
"You," the Captain said, stepping into the crater. The tip of his spear drifted toward Zeki's throat. "Boy. Why are you covered in its blood? And why is the ground here compressed like a smith's anvil?"
Zeki stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the Captain's boots. Deep in his chest, the sulfur-smelling voice returned, mocking him.
He is weak, little King. Snap his neck and let the dragon feast.
Not yet, Zeki thought, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his cloak.
"He's in shock, Lord!" Nara cried out, moving to shield Zeki. "The blast threw him against the wall. He's simple-minded, he doesn't know—"
"Silence, rat," the Captain snapped. He turned to one of his men. "Scan the area. If there's even a trace of Zenon energy, burn this entire block. We leave no ghosts behind."
A soldier stepped forward, holding a small, glowing crystal. The stone began to vibrate, turning from a calm blue to a frantic, jagged violet.
"Captain," the soldier whispered, his hand shaking. "The readings... they aren't coming from the wall."
The crystal cracked.
"They're coming from the boy."
The Captain's eyes snapped back to Zeki. His spear leveled, the tip glowing with a lethal, silver light.
"Strip him," the Captain ordered. "Let's see what he's hiding under that filth."