AKIHIRO ATLAS
Security... what an illusion I so easily accepted. Magnus's house seemed to me, for a time, an inviolable space with his presence; as if all the dirty, uncontrolled, and unpredictable aspects of the outside world remained outside these walls. But now, the shattered table, the broken glass, and that strange, heavy energy still hanging in the air were imposing a single truth upon me: No place in this universe is "safe." There are only places that haven't been targeted yet. And we... no longer fit into that category.
I find it difficult to take my eyes off the being before me. The unfamiliarity I felt when I first saw it is still there, but now something else has been added to it: the more I try to recognize it, the more incomprehensible it becomes. This seems like a contradiction, but it isn't. Because that woman... no matter how careful I am, she won't let me understand her. That organic mask on her face isn't just a physical barrier; it's as if it's a conscious "block." It's as if I'm not supposed to know who she is, what she's thinking, or what she's looking at. And this uncertainty... is heavier than fear.
But what shook me the most wasn't his appearance.
It was her gun.
The spear.
As a spear user, my reflexes kick in involuntarily. My eyes drift to its stance, center of gravity, hand position. And what I notice… is disturbingly flawless. It doesn't "hold" the spear. It coexists with it. The wrist movement is minimal, but the control at the spear's tip is incredibly precise. The way it distributes weight, the swinging angle, the tempo of the backswing—none of this feels like a learned technique. This… isn't something you're born with either. It's a point where technique and existence converge. A person doesn't use it like that. Even a warrior wouldn't use it like that.
This… is the natural state of things.
And this awareness creates a strange dichotomy within me.
Admiration.
And fear.
Because I can see how good you are... but I can also feel what it means to reach that level.
I want to take a step forward.
But I don't take it.
Because something inside me... says this will be a mistake.
Just then, Magnus moves.
But this isn't like an "intervention." It's more like an arrangement that should have been made anyway. He steps a few steps forward and stands between me and her. There's no haste or urgency in this movement... but there is certainty. It's not like he's moving there because I'm someone who needs to be protected, but because that position is the "right place."
Even that... is strangely comforting.
And disturbing.
Magnus's voice doesn't rise. But the focus shifts completely.
"What's your name? "
The question is simple.
But beneath this simplicity lies a heaviness.
The woman doesn't seem to react at first. But then…
"Name? "
One word.
But this isn't an answer.
This... feels like a repetition that shows the question itself isn't understood.
Magnus' expression doesn't change.
"Okay," he says, continuing in the same tone. "To whom do you serve? "
A short silence.
The woman's spear moves slightly. But it's not an attack. More like... thinking.
Then she speaks again.
"Service? "
Another single word.
Again… not an answer.
At this point, something inside me is tense. Because this isn't just about not being able to communicate. It's like encountering a completely different set of concepts. It's as if the words we use... don't hold any meaning for them. Or even if it does carry meaning... it's not the same way.
Magnus remains silent for a few seconds.
But this silence is different this time.
More attentive.
I, on the other hand, can't bear it.
"Magnus…" I say, without taking my eyes off the woman. "Do you know anything? "
This question… it's not just out of curiosity.
This is the need for orientation. This is how I determine how I can attack or position myself. There is a possibility that our opponent is on our side…
Even if they destroy our home… I don't need to directly identify her as an enemy…
…I think.
Magnus tilts his head slightly to the side. His eyes are still on the woman.
"Her mask," he says slowly. "It gives me some possibilities."
It causes a brief pause. Maybe he thought of something at that moment.
"But it's not certain. "
This answer... is not sufficient.
But at the same time… it's more than I expected.
Because the things Magnus says he's not sure about...
Are usually really dangerous.
And that's when I understand.
This is not just a powerful enemy.
This… is something even Magnus cannot fully describe.
And this realization…
It draws the fear within me one level deeper.
The woman remained motionless for a while. But this inactivity was not empty. It was as if she were "processing" something passing through her. While the red veins at the tip of its spear flickered slightly, the shadow-like tentacles around it undulated in the same rhythm. Then… she spoke.
But it wasn't speech.
It was… a rupture.
"Mina... Rina... Zorya..."
The moment I heard its voice, something inside me involuntarily withdrew. This voice was not a human voice. It was neither hoarse nor high-pitched; it was not something that could be categorized. It seemed to originate from multiple layers at once. It wasn't coming from a single source; it was seeping out from the space around that entity. Each word was "felt" more than heard. And every sensation created a small crack somewhere in my mind.
"…Clown."
The moment she said that name…
Something changed.
I was looking at the woman, but my focus shifted.
Magnus.
I couldn't see his face. But I didn't need to.
Because I felt it.
At that moment, I felt a tremor in Magnus's spiritual power. This was not an explosion. It was... a momentary outpouring of something repressed. It was as if a piece buried deep within, a piece that needed to be forgotten, had suddenly surfaced. The air became heavy. In a real sense. The space around us tightened for a moment.
And then I looked at their hands.
Their fists were clenched.
But this wasn't just a sign of anger.
This was... a struggle for control.
Magnus said nothing for several seconds. But this silence was unlike any previous silence. This was... the moment when the decision was made.
And then he spoke.
His voice was still calm.
But this calmness... was no longer on the surface.
"Some beings," he said slowly, with sharp clarity in his words, "prove that they should not exist at the moment they come into being."
He took a step.
This step… wasn't just a physical movement.
It was as if the rules of the space he was in had changed.
"Trying to understand them… is a mistake. Trying to explain them… is a waste of time." His eyes fixed on the woman. "Because some things... are beyond understanding. "
He paused for a moment.
And at that moment, what was in his voice became completely evident.
"They just... must be erased.This sentence was not an outburst of anger.
But there was an absolute form of suppressed anger within him.
"And this… is not an option, Aki."
His voice was lower this time.
But it was heavier.
"This... is inevitability."
With the last word...
Something formed in Magnus' hand.
Darkness.
But it wasn't a shadow.
This was... an intensified absence.
The shadow sword.
As if all the points where light could not reach had come together and taken on a single form. The boundaries of the sword were not clear, but its existence was certain. Even the air around it seemed to avoid touching it. And when Magnus held it... it was not like grasping a weapon, but like mastering an idea.
Then the sky…
It broke.
But not physically.
When I looked up, black flames began to gather. But these flames weren't rising. On the contrary… it was gathering above. It was as if the sky was responding to Magnus's will. And then—
They fell.
But it wasn't rain.
This was… an aerial bombardment.
The dark flames condensed and fell rapidly like small meteors. Each one did not create an explosion upon impact with the ground… rather, it "destroyed" the spot where it landed. A part of reality was disappearing for a brief moment.
The woman moved.
But this movement…
Again, it wasn't movement.
She began to spin the spear in her hand.
But this was not a swing.
It was... a barrier.
For a moment, my eyes tried to follow it.
But I failed.
The speed of the spear was beyond my perception limit. What I saw was just a trail. A blur that shifted between black and red. And that haze... it was cutting through everything that fell upon it.
Every piece of dark flame was shattered before it could reach her.
The woman's speed and strength in wielding her spear left me in awe of her. It was terrifying how easily he deflected Magnus' attacks, which contained so much Spirit Power.
The barrier she created with her spear was colliding with the black flame meteorites.
Each collision made no sound.
But its effect was felt.
It was as if two different realities were colliding and rejecting each other.
Magnus's attack intensified.
More.
Faster.
The sky was now completely filled with black flames. They were like a meteor shower. The black flames were falling down like rain.
But the woman…
She was not backing down at all.
Her spear moved in perfect rhythm. Neither too much nor too little. Every movement… just right. And within those movements… there was no error.
This was not an apology.
This… was a perfect rejection.
And that's when I understood.
This war…
It wasn't a normal war.
This…
It was a collision of two concepts.
The black flames raining down from the sky transformed the area into something more than a battlefield—a concept in disintegration. With each fall, the ground not only broke; it experienced a brief moment of "non-existence." But that woman rejected even this non-existence. As her spear spun in her hand, it didn't merely block incoming attacks; it disintegrated them into meaningless particles. Each swing was more than just a technique—it was a denial of the attack's right to exist.
But then… the rhythm changed.
At that moment, I realized again that I was there. I wasn't just an observer here. I was sure I had enough strength to defeat the woman.
By directing my lightning and spiritual power to my legs, I gave myself enough strength to propel myself forward.
With a single leap, I reached her within seconds.
This time, I channeled the lightning in my leg into my hand, which I had flattened into the shape of a piece of paper. I watched the flow all the way through. From my leg, slowly down to my chest, then to my shoulder, finally from my wrist to my hand...
"Fulgur Percutiens!"
I had delivered the blow in such a way that it could split the woman in half—
I thought so.
However, she immediately removed one hand from her spear and grabbed my wrist, swiftly changing direction so that the lightning bolts erupting from the intersection struck the adjacent building and brought it down.
Then, she suddenly twisted my wrist that she was holding. I groaned in pain, but an opportunity presented itself again. Since she was defending against Magnus' attack with one hand, she couldn't react to my quick move. I leapt and spun in mid-air around my axis, attempting to kick him in the face.
She quickly turned her head to the side and dodged my blow, but her balance was completely off now.
So, I jumped back and watched the meteor shower falling down on him.
Suddenly something grabbed me, and I was suddenly pulled somewhere else.
"Idiot! Don't suddenly get so close to an enemy whose strength you're not sure about! "
Magnus immediately intervened and held me back, preventing the black flames from falling on me as well.
A mass of black flames engulfed his hand, and the entire rain of black flames in the sky converged into a single point, pouring down on the woman.
There was a massive explosion, and even I could barely stand, clinging to a street pole.
I waited for a while for the effects of the explosion to subside. I looked back at Magnus. He was very calm.
But from the seriousness on his face, I could tell we weren't done with the woman yet. We hadn't defeated her yet.
When the dust and smoke cleared and I saw the woman standing upright with not a single scratch on her body, I stood mouth agape in astonishment.
The woman's movement slowed momentarily. This slowdown was not a weakness—it was a preparation.
Her right hand, without hesitation, turned toward her own body.
And then…
She went in.
This movement was so natural that… there wasn't even any pain. When her fingers pierced the skin, there was neither tension nor resistance. It was as if that body had been designed to be opened. And what she brought out from within…
It was blood.
But this wasn't ordinary blood. It was dark, almost blackish red. It was thick. It wasn't flowing… it was crawling. It seemed to have a will of its own. The moment the woman held that liquid in her palm, it began to grow. It took on shapes like fine threads, thick fibers, and tangled wires.
And suddenly…
She threw it.
Those threads did not follow a straight line. They changed direction in the air. As if they were sensing their target. A few of them approaching Magnus attacked not directly but by circling around him. From several angles at once. One of them rotted the soil as soon as it touched the ground. Another vibrated in the air and suddenly took on a sharp form.
I acted reflexively.
I couldn't stop now.
I shook his hand.
Sentry.
My spear came into existence with a brief flash of lightning. The electricity extended and took shape, starting from my palm. Familiar weight... familiar balance... but this time what I felt wasn't confidence.
This... was an attempt to keep up.
The moment my foot touched the ground, I disappeared.
My speed came before my thought. My body leapt from one point to another. My first move was to cut one of those threads of blood. While Sentry's tip was vibrating with lightning, there was no explosion when I struck the thread—but I felt resistance. It was as if what I was trying to cut wasn't matter... but willpower.
The blood threads kept multiplying, even though I cut a few of them. The more I cut, the more kept coming. Although I could cut them individually, when many of them joined together to form large pieces, I couldn't cut them. I don't even know what they are! The woman was creating solid objects from her blood and sending them at us. It was obvious that if they pierced my body, they would penetrate it.
Magnus, unlike me, was dodging them with very quick steps. With each swing of her sword, she sent forth a slash of black flame that pierced through hundreds, even thousands, of blood threads. However, the blood flowing from the woman's body had no end, and more was constantly forming.
Magnus raised his sword to the sky, and the sky turned a purplish hue. His rain began again.
The black flames raining down from the sky were no longer isolated attacks; they had transformed into a network of destruction that covered an entire area, overlapping and triggering each other. Each one, when it hit the ground, did not create an explosion; it "extinguished" the point where it landed—color, sound, and even the flow of time ceased for a moment at that point. Magnus did not control this rain; he orchestrated it. The flames weren't falling at regular intervals; instead, they descended in calculated chaos. One would land on the ground while another filled the gap it created, and a third targeted the point where that gap would close. This was not about direct destruction, but about setting an inevitable trap. However, the entity before it... understood the logic of this trap.
The woman regained her grip on her spear and positioned it for defense as the threads emerging from her split abdomen automatically folded and converged, attacking us.
The woman was not rotating her spear around a single axis; her movements were multi-layered. Her wrist appeared stationary, but the spear tip moved at different angles, with varying speeds, and with different centers of gravity. Each swing not only cut through the black flame fragments rushing toward him, but also changed their direction of travel. Magnus's attacks did not disappear when they hit her spear... they changed direction. And this change in direction made the battlefield even more dangerous. A fragment of dark flame, instead of hitting the ground with the woman's swing, collided with another fragment suspended in the air, and the two forces combined to form a more intense core. The woman was not merely defending; she was reshaping Magnus's attack.
But then…
That movement again.
She put her hand inside her body.
This time, deeper.
And what he took out… was more.
This time it wasn't thread; it came out in clumps. Dense, heavy, and oppressive. As soon as it suspended in the air, it split apart. It broke down into dozens of fine fibers, thick veins, and knotted loops. And then... they all jumped up at the same time.
This wasn't an attack, it was a network.
Each thread was coming from a different angle. Some were targeting directly, some were changing direction by bouncing off the ground, and some were hovering in place, covering the area. The moment one of them touched the sole of my foot, it corroded the ground. The ground suddenly collapsed where I was standing.
I moved.
I accelerated before falling.
Sentry took on a new form in my hands—the lightning was more aggressive this time. It no longer remained stationary at the tip of the spear; it had transformed into an ever-expanding, pulsating energy. I felt this difference when cutting through the first thread. This time, the resistance was greater. The pain wasn't just physical... it was oppressive. It was as if what I was trying to cut through was resisting me.
I forced it.
I intensified the lightning.
And I shattered it.
But that was only one.
The others had already come at me.
I didn't slow down time.
I sped myself up.
I jumped from one point to another, trying to cut a thread with each leap. But cutting wasn't enough. Each torn fiber began to break into smaller pieces and rejoin. The space was shrinking. Evasion was becoming more difficult.
"This can't go on like this..."
Magnus had already moved on to the second stage.
The dark flames in the sky suddenly stopped.
For a moment, everything... fell silent.
Then…
It gathered.
All those flames were drawn to a single point in the air. They condensed. They compressed. And that point… went dark. It was no longer a flame. This is... a core. A self-contained energy, like the collapse of a star.
Magnus raised his sword toward the core.
And brought it down.
The core did not shatter.
It fell down.
But as it fell… it grew.
Like a meteor. It really is a meteor. It was a meteor so huge that if it had landed on the ground, it would have shattered an entire continent. I couldn't see anything because of the shadow cast over my head.
This meteor was not made of fire like the other one.
It came from nothingness. It was from Magnus' darkness.
It crashed down upon the woman.
The moment of impact...
It wasn't heard.
But it was felt.
The ground collapsed. The area bowed inward. As if the earth were being pulled inward at that point.
But the woman…
She refused again.
She grasped the spear with both hands and swung it upward.
This time, the swing was different.
A single blow.
But within that blow... was the sum of all his movements.
The meteor split in two.
But it didn't disappear.
The two split pieces hit the ground.
And each one caused separate destruction.
The shock wave threw me backward.
But I regained my composure before hitting the ground.
I couldn't wait any longer.
This time, the lightning surrounded my body.
Not just on my gun.
Throughout it all.
I accelerated.
But this time, not to run away.
To attack.
I began to circle around the woman. With each step, I left a mark on the ground—burned, cracked lines. I threw Sentry. Once. Twice. Three times. Each attack came from a different angle. But every time…
She twirled her spear as if mocking me, deflecting every one of my attacks, and he didn't even seem to struggle while doing it.
With a swift movement, I channeled all my lightning power into my ankles and rushed behind her in quick steps. If my eyesight doesn't deceive me, I was moving so fast that right now it's looking back at where I was just now.
I thrust my spear directly into the spot where its heart would be.
Blood from the wounds she had just inflicted splattered everywhere and even landed on my face. The woman didn't even scream; she was just silent, and I was stunned for a few seconds.
I noticed that she was moving her right hand towards the tip of my spear, where its shaft had been split. I immediately tried to pull my spear out. However, she was holding the spear and I couldn't remove it.
I was about to pull with all my strength when I froze.
My right arm, which was holding my spear, had turned into a solid, deep red color. The blood clotted onto my spear and spread almost from my arm to my shoulder, hardening it.
I suddenly screamed in fear and tried to focus my lightning power in my right arm to shatter this solid object, but my lightning felt as if it were futile.
Then something unexpected happened.
Without realizing it, I had dropped my spear, and the woman slowly turned around and looked directly at me. If she weren't wearing a mask, we would probably be looking into each other's eyes right now. That was the moment I realized how strong the person in front of me was.
Then, she slowly brought her right hand in front of his chest.
My right hand slowly moved in front of my chest.
She slowly straightened her right hand like a knife.
My right hand slowly straightened like a knife.
This idea wasn't mine... but my body didn't care. My muscles, my nerves, my reflexes—they all depended on her movement. Every millimeter her hand moved forward echoed in my hand. This wasn't a control; it was just... it was the merging of my existence with his. It was as if I wasn't an individual but a reflection of his action.
And the scariest part...
I couldn't stop it.
My fingers had become hard as knives. The veins in my palm were tense, all movement concentrated on a single point. Right in the center of my chest.
In my heart.
She raised her hand and aimed it straight at his chest with full force.
I raised my hand and rushed toward his chest at full speed—
And at that exact moment, Magnus spoke before moving. His voice didn't rise, he didn't rush, it was as if it came from a place much deeper, much older, rather than the middle of this scene. What he said wasn't like a sentence; it was more like a truth he had been carrying inside him for years finally surfacing.
"Shadows are not the enemies of light...
they are the legacy of truth that light cannot reach.
And I... am the last echo of that legacy. "
The moment these words were spoken, the fabric of the surrounding space shifted. The air grew heavy, sounds were muffled, colors began to fade. It was as if the world was receding to make room for Magnus' words.
Then black flames appeared, but this time they were unlike anything I had ever seen. These flames did not burn, they did not glow, they did not even emit light; their presence was something deeper than the absence of light. The darkness that gathered around Magnus was not merely an energy; it was like a suppressed reality. And that reality was no longer refusing to be hidden. The flames did not move in a single direction toward the woman; they seemed to "land" directly on her right arm, as if returning to where they were meant to be. There was no explosion upon contact, no impact felt. But the result was… terrifying. The woman's arm began to burn, but this burning was not like any ordinary burn. The flames did not consume or destroy her, but they also never let go. That arm was trapped in an ongoing burn; it had become the center of a pain that never ended, a pain that began anew at every moment. This was more cruel than destruction—it was fixing existence forever in torment.
This moment broke the woman's movement for the first time. The synchronization was disrupted. Her hand paused, and my hand also stopped at that moment. It was as if the invisible threads holding me together had been cut. My body returned to me, but this return was sudden and shocking; regaining control was as painful as losing it. At that very moment, Magnus passed by me. I didn't even see his movement; I only felt its consequence. I was suddenly pulled from my place and thrown towards the side. This wasn't a push; it was a forceful act of removing me from the center of the moment. When I fell to the ground, I lost my breath, but I couldn't feel the pain because my eyes saw nothing but Magnus.
I quickly jumped aside and moved out of Magnus's way. I took a few steps back and looked toward Magnus; what I saw was terrifying. Black flames rising from his right eye and his entire body made me see him like a monster.
At that moment, Magnus had raised his sword, and it no longer looked like a weapon. The black flames were not gathering around the sword but directly within its presence. As if the sword had ceased to be an object and transformed into the physical embodiment of a concept.
"Umbra Fortuna. " Magnus said, slowly swinging his sword in a horizontal crosscut.
When I saw it, the first thing that came to my mind wasn't "cut"; it was more like "draw a line." There was no hesitation in Magnus's stance, no preparation at all—as if this action were the inevitable outcome of an already made decision. And at the moment he swung that sword, the world… changed.
This was not a blow. This was a split. The space before us, the point where the woman stood, the ground, the air, even the distance itself lost meaning along the line where that blow passed. Everything was divided into two, but this was not a physical division; it was the rejection of the entity itself. Nothing "collapsed" along that line—because collapse requires existence first. What happened here was the erasure of that entity as if it had never existed. This effect did not remain only at our current location; it extended forward, far beyond what the eye could see. If there had been a city in front of that line, that city wouldn't just have been destroyed... it would never have existed in the first place.
When everything stopped, what remained was silence, but it wasn't a peaceful silence. This was a heavy, oppressive void that followed something irreversible. I realized I had forgotten how to breathe. Because what I had just witnessed was not a war. This was not a clash of two forces. This… was the execution of a verdict. At that moment, Magnus wasn't just fighting; he was deciding what should exist and what shouldn't. And I… truly understood for the first time how frightening that decision could be.
When that "annihilation" line left by Magnus' sword divided the scene in two, everything should have ended for a moment. But it didn't. The woman's body that remained behind that line... wasn't just split in two; it was opened up. The incision extending across the abdominal region was not like a bleeding wound, but rather like a door summoning something within to emerge. As the layers beneath the pale skin separated, what emerged from within was not blood... but movement. First, a dark red flash, then a wave of thick, heavy liquid surging outward. But this liquid did not flow onto the ground. It remained suspended in the air. For a moment, it maintained its form, and then… it elongated. It split into fibers. It curled up. It thickened. It ceased being a mere organ part and transformed into massive appendages with their own willpower. The intestines... but that word was no longer sufficient. Each of them had transformed into creatures that pulsated with intense spiritual power, their veins throbbing, their surfaces constantly undulating, and a dark pulse coursing through them.
Those extensions didn't just grow; they began to warp the space around them. The pressure emanating from them made the air denser, causing the ground to crack and swell. While each one turned in a different direction, their tips sharpened; some developed jaw-like opening and closing slits, while others knotted and pointed into hooks. And then they charged at us all at once. Their speeds were erratic; some moved in a straight line like lightning, while others changed direction mid-air, attacking at unpredictable angles. When one of them targeted the exact spot where I was standing, I reflexively relaxed my body. The moment I transformed into lightning, my muscles were replaced by pure speed. I disintegrated, scattered, and reassembled. As I passed through an extension, I felt not coldness at the point where its surface touched me, but a sensation of decay. It was as if it were a force that existed solely to "destroy" whatever it touched. Another extension came flying from behind me, having bounced off the ground; I changed direction instantly and leaped once more before hitting the ground. But even avoiding them was tiring; because the attacks were uninterrupted, relentless, and each carried a more severe intent than the last.
In the midst of this chaos, Magnus seemed fixed on a single point. The black flames around him, instead of scattering, were compressing and intensifying, trembling as if waiting for an order. His eyes were fixed on the woman; there was anger in his gaze, but it was not uncontrolled; on the contrary, it was a perfectly measured determination for destruction. When he slowly raised his right hand, the black flames around him suddenly shifted to a purple hue. This color change signaled that the intensity of the energy had crossed a different threshold. A gap formed in the air, between the enormous appendages on the woman. And within that void... something began to take shape.
At first it looked like a shadow. Then its boundaries became visible. A massive hand. But it was not a limb; it was the physical form of a judgment. Its fingers were long, bony, and tipped with sharp points; their surface was not smooth but had a constantly undulating texture, containing countless tiny particles of shadow that moved within it. With the appearance of the hand, the pressure in the area increased; it was as if the air itself were withdrawing to make room for that entity. Magnus's voice echoed amidst this moment—neither loud nor hasty, but with unquestionable certainty:
The Hand of God."
The hand closed suddenly. But this closure was not a mechanical movement; it was as if it had already grasped its target and was only becoming visible. It seized one of those enormous appendages formed from the woman's intestines by its root. At the moment of contact, the appendage curled, convulsed, its surface bulged, and a dark liquid gushed out from within, but it could not escape. The fingers of the hand clenched even tighter. There was no "crushing" sound in that compression—it felt more like something failing to sustain its own existence and disintegrating. And then... it exploded.
The explosion did not emit light. But its effect was blinding. The extension disintegrated into a mosaic of purple and black fragments; the pieces scattered like liquid droplets. But they did not fall to the ground. Each droplet suspended in the air instantly began to reform. They transformed into thin blades, hooks, and pointed spines. Blood was no longer a remnant; it was the raw material for a new wave of attack. They jumped on us all at once. Their numbers were so great that for a moment the sky turned completely red.
I transformed into lightning again. But this time, mere avoidance was not enough; I could feel the marks they left on me even as I passed between them. I recreated Sentry and swung it while on the move; with each swing, I scattered a few of them, but those that dispersed regrouped. One of them grazed my arm; it left not an immediate burning sensation at the point of contact, but a delayed feeling of bruising. I clenched my teeth, increased my speed even more, and changed direction without touching the ground. The field was no longer level ground; it had become a three-dimensional death trap filled with attacks coming from every direction and emerging from everywhere.
Magnus did not retreat. On the contrary, he took a step forward. This time, the black flames spread not by expanding but by thinning out; they stretched like threads, weaving nets in the air. Those nets did not burn the blood-soaked weapons that struck them; they merely extinguished the movement within them. Some disintegrated at that moment, while others changed direction and attacked again. Magnus's sword moved again; this time its swing was not wide, but a series of short, sharp blows. Each blow carved small slits in the air, which momentarily filled with black flame before closing. This wasn't about slicing up the space; it was more like constantly rewriting it.
The woman, however, was not retreating. New extensions were still growing from that open wound on her abdomen. Their number was not decreasing; it was increasing. Each new extension carried a more intense Spirit Power than its predecessors. He still held the spear in his hand, and from time to time he coordinated attacks by moving it in sync with those extensions. For a moment, she drew a line in the air with the tip of the spear; along that line, drops of blood aligned and surged toward us in a single line. This wasn't a hail of bullets; it was a continuous cutting line. With lightning speed, I leapt over that line, passed under it, and changed direction. But each avoidance made the next one more difficult.
At this point, the war had ceased to be a conflict. It was a refusal of two different forms of destruction to share the same space. Magnus's black flames sought to extinguish existence, while the woman's blood shattered the existence and multiplied it. And I... between these two extremes, at the limits of my speed, was trying to survive as long as my breath would hold out.
My instincts were now working faster than my thoughts. There was not even a moment's respite between the intensity of the incoming attacks, the ever-changing landscape, and that woman's endless transformations. After changing direction several more times with my lightning form and dodging deadly strikes, I noticed a narrow corridor between two buildings. For the moment, this wasn't an escape; it was just a "breathing space." I slid into position, entered without slowing down, and finally forced my body back into its normal form.
When my feet touched the ground, my knees involuntarily bent slightly. My breathing was irregular, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The Sentry dispersed, trembling in my hand, as the last remnants of the lightning seeped through my fingers and vanished. A few seconds... just a few seconds... I wanted to gather my thoughts. I leaned my back against the wall, bowed my head, and waited for the ringing in my ears to stop.
But waiting... was a luxury.
I lifted my head slightly. I was about to look out from the corner of the building. Magnus' black flames were still tearing through the sky, that woman's terrible appendages were still trying to devour everything—I knew that. Just a glimpse... to understand the situation...
And at that exact moment—
A hand.
Suddenly.
Without any warning.
He covered my mouth.
I tried to react reflexively, but that hand... it wasn't a normal hand. Its power wasn't physical, but it was still inevitable. My voice got stuck in my throat. I wanted to scream, I wanted to move, but that contact... it paralyzed me.
And then...
The world shifted.
This wasn't a transition. There was neither a flash of light nor a feeling of emptiness. It was just... everything shifted. In an instant, the fabric of my surroundings disintegrated and something else was written in its place. When I opened my eyes, I realized I was still in the same position, but my surroundings…
Were no longer the same.
The weather.
That was the first thing I noticed.
It was heavy.
It was intense.
Even breathing had become difficult. Everything I inhaled wasn't oxygen; it felt like the remnants of something rotten. My stomach immediately reacted. I felt like vomiting but managed to hold it back. This smell... it was indescribable. Burnt flesh, rotting organs, a metallic scent of blood, and on top of all that, the stench of ancient, forgotten decay... they were all present. This wasn't just a bad smell. This was... the stench of a corrupted world.
I looked around slowly.
And what I saw was…
It wasn't the world.
The ground was cracked, but this was not a natural crack. The surface was a dark red hue, approaching black, and it glistened faintly, as if constantly flashing. In places, fissures had opened up, and lava was flowing from those fissures—but this lava was not ordinary. It was darker in color, almost a deep red approaching black, and its flow was… heavy. It was as if it were not liquid but the remnants of something melted. Bubbles were popping inside, and with each pop, a sharp heat and a stronger scent were released into the air.
But what really caught my attention was…
The columns.
Gigantic, black columns reaching towards the sky.
They were countless.
Each one was irregular; some were bent, some were cracked, and some were covered in red lines as if they were burning from the inside. These columns were not stone. They were more like something frozen. As I approached, I noticed that their surfaces were not smooth; they were covered in twisting shapes, figures that resembled frozen screams. It was as if once-living things had been trapped inside these columns.
I looked up at the sky.
There was no sky.
Or at least not in the sense we know it.
What lay above me was a dark, heavy layer. It was like smoke but stationary. Occasionally, red flashes passed through it, and deep vibrations resembling distant thunder could be heard. But this was not an atmospheric phenomenon. This... was the place itself.
And at that moment I understood.
This wasn't just a place.
This... was a situation.
A state of existence.
Even as I formed the word in my mind, I felt it was inadequate. Because this place was not merely a "bad" or "painful" place. It was a realm where order had been abandoned and meaning had decayed. Here, nothing was as it should be, and this was the scariest part.
This place was another Sacred Domain, other than Earth. I could not sense either Magnus's or that woman's Spirit Power at the moment.
I still felt the presence of that hand behind me.
But I couldn't turn back...
I didn't have the courage.
Because something inside me...
was saying that the thing behind me was even worse than here.
END OF CHAPTER