Evilness, the all-consuming power that holds sway over life and death.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the buzzing command center. He smirked, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. “It seems everything is moving along better than we anticipated. We’ve captured a dozen of those lizard men, and they’re trying to communicate with us. We’re starting to figure out what’s ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in their behavior and language. They’re chained up and treated as prisoners, but nothing worse than how we’ve treated demi-humans in the past.”

Lasui tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “And how are the demi-humans reacting to their presence?”

Jessica let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “A few were curious if breeding was an option, but that notion fizzled out pretty quickly. They don’t see the lizard men as demi-humans, more like... curiosities.”

Sasari frowned, crossing her arms. “It feels wrong, like we’re just using them as tools or beasts.”

Marceline shrugged, her tone matter-of-fact. “It is what it is. Demi-humans may be stronger than ordinary civilians, but they’re rare. How many are on this continent? Three thousand? Six thousand? Maybe nine thousand? Compared to our million, they’re almost nonexistent.”

Arthur nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s exactly why information is vital to us, the Royalty. As King, I must make the best choices, and you all need to learn to do the same. Jessica knows as much as I do, and we’ve held on to secrets for too long. We’re considering revealing some—at least those that pose no threat. History has taught us that kings are meant to guide, no matter how strong or intelligent others might be. Our role is to learn, to decide what’s best for our people, and to bear the weight of those choices.”

Lasui’s eyes flickered with a fervent light. “We’re learning, Arthur. But my focus remains on the Goddess Luyira. She’s the key to a brighter future. Marceline, you’re with me on this, right?”

Marceline’s lips curled into a half-smile. “I believe she’s important, but you’ve got to keep a level head, Lasui. Don’t get lost in your devotion.”

Arthur’s gaze softened, but his voice carried a firm edge. “I’ve been watching. I saw you, Sasari, and the demi-humans from Michi group renovating that shrine, turning it into a church for the Crimson Goddess. It’s a promising start, but remember, Luyira is a person, not just a divine figure. Don’t push your ideals onto her, especially not in a way that could lead to heartache.”

Javier leaned in, brows furrowing. “What do you mean by that, my King?”

Arthur’s expression darkened slightly as he glanced at the screens filled with ancient texts and cryptic symbols. “I have access to historical records, some predating the Celestial Judgement. They tell of leaders who believed they were righteous, but in their arrogance, they viewed those outside their circle as nothing more than resources or tools. They preached salvation, yet only brought suffering.”

Lasui’s voice was soft but resolute. “I would never cause suffering.”

Marceline’s tone was firm. “Nor would I. But Arthur, you’re a future king. You must be objective, above all.”

Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze steady. “I know, and I’m doing my best. But understand, you’re not the first to walk this path. So, please, tread carefully. Don’t impose your will on her.”

Lasui gave a determined nod. “We won’t force anything.”

Sasari smiled gently. “Yes, we’ll wait until she’s ready to step into her role as our Goddess.”

Jessica’s eyes lingered on Arthur, curiosity piqued. “Arthur, I have a question about the knowledge you mentioned—the part about the old kings. You seem to know a lot about it.”

Arthur’s gaze drifted, a shadow of old burdens crossing his face. “Knowledge can be a heavy burden, Jessica. The more you learn, the more you realize the weight of each decision. Some truths are too heavy to share lightly.”

Arthur leaned forward, his eyes hardening with the weight of his words. “I am a King, and with that title comes the responsibility to safeguard my people. I’m not the only one with access to this information; the council shares the same knowledge. If any of you have concerns, I can explain what I know. There’s a vast amount to digest, and even I find myself overwhelmed at times. But that’s why a King must also be a student—we must never stop learning. The world is changing. We have these monstrous beings we call Dragons, and though we lost the Titanic beast before we could study it, these creatures are different. They are flesh and blood, aware of the world around them. And now we have the lizardmen, these enigmatic figures with power comparable to a Retter Messiah. Plans are shifting, but that’s the nature of life.”

Marceline’s expression softened, her eyes flicking briefly to Jessica and Sasari. “Arthur, all this stress can’t be good for the babies. Are you sure Jessica and Sasari need to be involved in this?”

Arthur nodded, his voice resolute. “I believe that’s exactly why they should be here. Stress also comes from being kept in the dark. It’s better that they know. I want all of you to learn and keep these things in mind. I’ll grant you access to some of the records. For instance, one of the documents describes a figure in power—a so-called 'President'. Unlike a King, a President rules for a limited time, making decisions that impact the people. Some of them accomplished great things, but many made grievous errors, and it was the citizens who paid the price.”

Marceline raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “Isn’t that the same as a King?”

Arthur shook his head. “No, a King is supposed to be more than that. A true leader—a Ruler—is meant to guide with wisdom and foresight. Some of these Rulers were great, but many were not. The worst of them wielded their power without regard for anyone but themselves, reshaping the world to fit their desires. They were so powerful that no one could challenge them. That’s why these records exist—to remind us of past mistakes and to help us forge a better path. A King must be a student, yes, but he is never alone. He must rely on his friends, his family, and those he is sworn to protect.

Arthur paused, his gaze hardening as he continued. “The figure of the president was often just a puppet for the masses, a mask that concealed the true powers pulling the strings. Some presidents wielded genuine authority, but most were mere scapegoats, absorbing the blame for the decisions of unseen rulers. They were symbols of a system that frequently spiraled into chaos or clung to power by any means. It’s a shameful chapter of history and a reminder of the perils of leading without true accountability or integrity.

Lasui tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “A puppet to face the masses?”

Sasari looked bewildered. “How can someone like that exist?”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “As you’re beginning to understand, people often follow beliefs, ideals, and rules without question. A person in power can command you to act, and many will obey without a second thought. People often prefer the comforting facade of leadership, but this can be dangerous for those imposing their will. If the masses dislike or distrust them, leaders manipulate popularity to maintain control—the same way Luyira’s presence has influenced you, Lasui. She’s revered because she saved us and wields immense power. But if she commanded you to kill another, would you do it?”

Lasui hesitated, her voice uncertain. “I don’t know… probably not. She’s not that kind of person. She’s a Retter Messiah; they don’t kill.”

Arthur pressed on, his gaze unwavering. “But what if someone claimed to represent her, insisting it was for her greater good?”

Lasui’s expression tightened. “That’s a difficult question. I’d want to speak with her directly.”

Arthur smiled slightly. “That’s because you’re not easily swayed, but many are. And that’s where the danger lies. When someone imposes beliefs and rules without question, they become what we call a 'dictator'—a child with a hammer, seeing everything as a nail. In history, there was a dictator named Hitler, who ruled a nation and sought to eradicate all who were different from his own people. His actions brought ruin to both his country and those he conquered. Another, Stalin, was a president who turned on his own people, killing those who differed from his vision. He was so efficient in his cruelty that he nearly destroyed his own nation. Yet, among the tyrants, there were also good leaders—presidents and rulers who made the world better. I want you to take time to read these records. You deserve to understand fully, and we’ll discuss this further once you’ve had time to reflect. As a King, my duty is to make the best choices, but I must always weigh the consequences. That’s why I listen to every opinion and consider them carefully. Now, Lasui and Sasari, it’s late. Go to your rooms and rest. Marceline and Javier, remember your roles as consorts. You must also keep these lessons in mind. Tomorrow, we begin anew, and we must all be prepared.”

The future rulers of the empire left the command center, their minds swirling with the weight of Arthur’s words. Their paths were uncertain, but their intentions had become clearer. Alone in the quiet room, Jessica and Arthur lingered, the air thick with unspoken concerns.

Arthur exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. “We’re progressing beyond what my ancestors ever hoped, but seeing Lasui’s fanaticism grow has been troubling. And Sasari, with her strange power tied to the melodies—following right behind him—it’s like I’m reading those old records come to life. I can’t let this spiral into a cult.”

Jessica placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice soft but firm. “We’ll find a way, Arthur. Together, we’ll keep them on the right path.”

Arthur nodded, though the weight of his worries remained. He had seen enough of history’s pitfalls to know the dangers that lay ahead. But as King, he was determined to guide his people through the storm, no matter how fierce the winds blew.

Jessica sighed softly, her eyes meeting Arthur’s with a mix of concern and resolve. “I understand, Arthur. But as you said, our children aren’t ordinary. Your fears aren’t without reason—when they gather those crowds in that church, the line between reason and fanaticism starts to blur. ‘Punisher of the Sinners,’ ‘Protector of the Fair’—it sounds righteous, but who decides who’s fair and who’s a sinner? Isn’t that the same mistake we made with the demi-humans?”

Arthur’s brow furrowed, the weight of his thoughts pulling his shoulders down. “Exactly. It’s a dangerous path. I want to trust them, to believe that their intentions are good, but what if they don’t fully understand the impact of their actions? It’s a risk we can’t afford to ignore.”

Jessica nodded, her voice gentle but firm. “We need to be careful, Arthur. As long as they have good hearts, we can guide them, but we must watch closely. For now, though, it’s late. We need rest.”

Arthur rubbed his temples, the day’s burdens still heavy on his mind. “You’re right. It’s been a long day. I always thought being a King in an age of gods would be glorious, but it’s exhausting. It’s clearer now why those in true power used puppets to take the fall.”

Jessica gave him a warm smile, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “I’m glad you’re not one of those puppets. I’ll be right by your side through it all, Arthur. Let’s get some sleep.”

Arthur nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips. “Let’s go.”

They walked quietly down the dimly lit corridors of the guild, the soft glow of lanterns casting shadows that danced along the walls. The command center's hum faded behind them, replaced by the steady rhythm of their footsteps. As they reached their rooms, they exchanged a final, lingering look—an unspoken promise to face whatever challenges awaited them together.

As they disappeared into the quiet of the night, unseen eyes watched from the darkness, ancient and unblinking. A soft chuckle broke the silence, rippling through the shadows like a dark wind.

“Kings and queens—usually the villains in stories like this,” a voice murmured, dripping with amusement. “He’s surprisingly noble for a mortal.”

Another voice, rougher and tinged with disdain, followed. “This is tedious. In the end, they all die and fade into nothingness. Why do we even bother?”

A third voice, smooth and calculating, cut in, the tone sharp as a knife. “You’re missing the point, Levy. You’re all brawn and no brain. Patience doesn’t cost us anything, and these mortals—well, they’re assets, whether they realize it or not. They’ll play right into our hands.”

A low growl answered, grudgingly conceding. “I suppose it suits our purposes. A peaceful reign keeps chaos asleep, which is what we need if we’re to control what he rules.”

“Exactly,” the third voice purred, satisfaction seeping through the words. “But the unexpected third party complicates things. We planned to manipulate certain races to further our hero’s quest, but these new adversaries—they’re weaker, yet annoyingly persistent.”

A voice deeper and edged with irritation, joined the conversation. “I don’t like it. It means I’ll have to be careful where I strike. I don’t want to waste my power on these gnats when I could be breaking something worthwhile.”

“I will break your mind if you mess this up,” the smooth voice snapped, exasperation seeping through each word. “You were the one who suffered most when things went sideways last time, always chasing thrills like some mortal adrenaline junkie. It was a nightmare for us—a brutal reminder that we are not beyond pain, that perhaps it isn’t only our father’s hand that can truly end us. I still remember the cries of the primordial souls… for the sake of our father, I didn’t even know they could scream like that.”

A cold chuckle echoed softly. “It’s amusing, really. Even among us, the most powerful, you let fear drive you. But it’s true—we’ve all used that rush to control others. Imagine, one of us, trapped by our own instincts.”

“It was a scar that lingered,” the calculating voice mused. “But in the end, it was worth it. Those who defied our father are now out in the open, forced to dance in the light while we remain in the shadows, pulling the strings. Our true forms hidden, our influence felt but unseen. They bend to his will just to avoid our wrath.”

“So we keep gathering knowledge,” the first voice concluded, a quiet hunger in its tone. “I want to see just how strong our enemies really are.”

Their whispers faded into the night, leaving only the stillness and the faint promise of the unseen battles yet to come.

__________________________________________________________________________________

My vision shifted once more, and I found myself watching from a distance, like a phantom drifting through a scene not my own. No longer in control, I was merely an observer, floating between worlds, unseen and unheard.

Sasael’s voice broke the quiet, tinged with frustration and disdain. “This is the first time you’re not the one pulling the strings, isn’t it? We’re in a universe where souls vanish the moment their bodies die. Even here, where good and evil stand on equal ground, evil holds the natural advantage. It’s just another Earth-like planet rated C, where either side can win. Feels like we’re wasting our time.”

Gabriel stood beside him, untroubled by Sasael’s impatience. His gaze was calm, thoughtful, as he surveyed the scene before them. “This isn’t about punishing the world, Sasael. We’re here to learn from a Pillar.”

Ninaies turned her attention to Aido, her eyes glimmering with a quiet intensity. “Pay close attention, Aido. If this Pillar truly saves the world, it might hold answers for you—perhaps a way to control your power. You’re a unique blend, something between a Pillar and an Apocalypty. Think of it like this: there are worlds where demons play the hero, but these demons don’t carry the true attributes of evil. They’re more like beings that resemble demons, yet they are fundamentally different.”

Aido’s gaze narrowed as he considered her words. “I’ve dealt with demons in my time. Pillars—they’re like the heroes in stories, right? Their mere presence can guide a world, lifting it toward hope and a better future.”

Gabriel’s expression shifted slightly, a touch of darkness creeping into his calm demeanor. “Not always. Some Pillars start with the best intentions, but even their actions can bring ruin. Consider the Pillar of Exulure. She prayed ceaselessly, using the system’s power and her Author Authority to enforce peace and harmony. But when she fell in love with her guardian, her desires changed. The system exposed her true nature, her darkness, and she almost brought about the end of a world that had never known monsters.”

Aido shook his head, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and sadness. “It feels wrong. They deserved a happy ending. But instead, their solution was to die together, wasn’t it?”

Gabriel nodded, his gaze distant as he recalled the events. “You almost challenged the gods of that world because of it. I still have to offer them gifts to keep the peace—they mistook you for an easy target when you resurrected them and attacked, hoping to learn more about us. They believed they were the only forces governing their universe.”

Aido smirked, shaking his head slightly. “You can’t call a handful of multi-planets universes. They’re more like pocket realities.”

Gabriel’s expression hardened, though his voice remained even. “Regardless, those worlds belong to them. They created these realms, and the souls within are like their children.”

Aido’s eyes sharpened, a flicker of defiance in his gaze. “That doesn’t make them their property. Each soul has its own life.”

Sasael’s eyes flared, his voice rising with indignation. “IT DOES! You have to remember that! It’s not just about control—it’s about responsibility.”

Ninaies placed a calming hand on Aido’s shoulder, her tone gentle yet firm. “They may belong to their creators, but it’s true that each life should be free to choose its own path. They are their children, but they are individuals, too.”

Aido turned his focus back to the newborn Pillar now visible in the scene. The child was small, unassuming, yet radiating a faint, steady light. “So, what powers does this Pillar have?”

Gabriel pointed to the infant, his voice tinged with a kind of reverence. “He comes from the main universe, a primordial soul that’s existed for centuries. His abilities are limited—just knowledge and heightened senses. No phoenix’s aura, no goddess of victory, no friendship’s power. None of the protections you’d recognize as plot armor, or what we call the goddess of luck. He’s simply trying to live here, seeking happiness.”

Aido nodded, a slow understanding dawning on him. “So this world was shaped by the influence of the main universe. It’s like a virtual reality that has taken on a life of its own.”

Sasael snorted, crossing his arms. “And I thought the realms were chaotic enough. Why do you lot keep creating worlds? They seem to pop up on their own.”

Gabriel’s gaze softened as he watched the child grow, his soul connecting more deeply with the world around him. “There he is—a baby, newly born, his destiny still unwritten. His soul is beginning to connect with this world, subtly influencing it.”

Aido’s voice was a quiet whisper as he observed the infant. “He can’t see us, can he?”

Sasael waved a dismissive hand. “No, he’s too insignificant right now, too far from reaching any awareness of our presence.”

Ninaies watched with a soft smile, her eyes gentle. “But he’s adorable, isn’t he?”

Aido’s gaze lingered on the infant, feeling the energy emanating from the tiny form. “His soul… It’s just as you said, a Pillar of light. His energy washes over the world, like a beacon. His parents, though, they’re like flickering candles—fragile, dependent on their physical forms.”

Gabriel’s tone grew more measured, almost somber. “Remember, Aido, only one in an infinite number of souls—even those who seek it—becomes a naturally born primordial soul. While primordial souls of the barrier are countless yet empty, the naturally born ones are special because they come with an inherent ego.”

Aido’s expression darkened, his thoughts turning to the countless threats that primordial souls face. “And that makes them the target of demons who learn of their existence, the prey of beings like Lucifer…”

Ninaies’ gaze was still fixed on the baby, her voice thoughtful. “This one’s different. He’s a romantic type—his aura is already searching, reaching out.”

Sasael sighed, rolling his eyes. “This is going to take years, isn’t it? Can I go? I’ve got better things to do than watch a kid grow up.”

Gabriel nodded, releasing Sasael from the scene. “Yes, you can go. We’ll leave Aido here to watch. Ninaies, do as you wish.”

Ninaies chuckled softly, glancing at Aido. “I’ll stay. He tends to get into trouble when left alone.”

Gabriel dismissed Sasael with a wave. “Go on, then, but be sure to return when you’re needed.”

Sasael gave a half-hearted salute, a trace of relief in his voice. “Finally. See you all later.”

Aido turned his attention back to the growing child, watching as his presence subtly shifted the world around him. “He’s already changing things. The plants grow more vibrant, the people seem more hopeful, more alive. He’s not a messiah or a protector—he’s a guide, a teacher. He wants to spread knowledge and hope.”

Sasael scoffed, unimpressed by the spectacle. “A nerd who dreams of teaching people. How riveting.”

Aido’s gaze lingered on to the armored figure, a strange recognition stirring within him. “So, that’s the original AIDO?”

A voice rumbled from the shadows, familiar and resonant. “Possibly. I can’t see your dreams, but today, I hear you clearly. I don’t know why.”

I was so shocked to hear a voice in my dreams, a spark of disbelief flashed across my face. “Destroyer? Is that really you? I can’t see you.”

The presence of Destroyer loomed, unseen yet unmistakably there. “Yes, it’s me. This should be a shared memory between us, but I don’t recall it either. It seems because you’re a watcher this time, not in a lucid dream, you’re able to connect with me. As if you were awake”

As I fell silent, the boundaries between past and present blurring in his mind. I was caught in a web of my own making, a tangle of what was, what is, and what might be—a phantom seeking answers in a story that felt achingly familiar yet forever out of reach.

As I watched the scene unfold before me, it felt like a dream, but I knew it wasn’t. It was a memory—my memory. Only this time, I wasn’t the one in control. I was a phantom, drifting through my own past, watching it play out like a story long forgotten.

I have a mix of awe and confusion when talking to Destroyer, feeling like I am not alone watching these scenes. “Incredible. I can see three figures which accompanies him. —Ninaies, looking as divine and radiant as always in this dream. Gabriel, he’s like a teacher or lord, someone superior. And the other one, Sasael… he seems like a rascal, doesn’t he?”

In the memory, Gabriel turned to Nina, his words clear and sharp, yet somehow comforting. “Do not tell him what is going to happen. Let him react naturally, even if the result goes against your own desires.”

I voice my uneasy feeling, to something my past self seem unaware, “I don’t like that sentence.”

Destroyer’s presence hummed beside me, its voice intertwining with my thoughts. “It seems we are only here to observe, just as he was told. Strange, isn’t it?”

The words echoed in my mind. “So the savior has superiors to answer to. Does that mean there are gods watching us—good gods? Why haven’t they contacted me? Is this their way of saying they can’t? Or are they just here to observe?”

Destroyer's voice was thoughtful, tinged with its ever-present wisdom. "I don't think this is a test, Aido. As a dream, it wouldn't hold weight. This must be a memory, one from before you began your quest. Remember the first time you had a vision? It was during a lucid dream. They have been constant, the desire to live, the desire to change fate, and tragic events that do not let you. But this is different—you are watching something that should be important, so let's learn from it."

I nodded, slowly piecing it all together. “Yes, this feels like a memory from my life as AIDO. And this concept of a Pillar—it’s the first time I’ve heard of it. It sounds like a savior, like a messiah. Souls, spirits…”

Destroyer’s tone was both a reminder and a revelation. “These are concepts we know but still struggle to fully grasp. Learning of them in this context is… enlightening.”

The time passed, we were always beside the couple AIDO and Ninaies, both always watching Taka life; AIDO watch the story of Takanashi Taka when he was five years old . He was a small boy with bright eyes and a quiet demeanor, always clinging to the shadow of his father, a man whose presence alone sent shivers through the darkest alleys of the underworld. His father, an infamous assassin within the government’s clandestine operations, moved like a ghost through the city—a harbinger of death whose name was whispered only in fear. Taka’s world was not one of playgrounds and carefree days. From the moment he could walk, he was taught to tread silently, to see without being seen, and to strike without hesitation.

But amidst the coldness of his father’s world, there was a flicker of warmth, a single light that burned brightly in Taka’s otherwise shadowed life: Kagura Saotome. She was the wild child next door, a tomboy who wore her scraped knees and bruises like badges of honor. The two of them were inseparable from the start, running through the quiet streets of their town, Kagura’s laughter echoing in the air like a defiant challenge to the world.

The two children had adventures together, with their group of friends coming and going, but they always remained close. The constant presence in his life was Kagura, who was always by his side, bringing him joy. One day, another girl entered Taka and Kagura's life - a cousin slightly older than him, who took on the role of an older sister, looking after the two of them. They played together and eventually made a promise to marry each other and vowed everlasting love. Taka's childhood was a blend of happy moments with the girls and the rigorous training of an assassin. The training was grueling, leaving him with little time to sleep or spend with loved ones as he grew up. His interactions with the girls were limited to his summer vacations - the only time in the year he could truly be a child and enjoy playing with his friends.

As the years passed, Kagura blossomed in ways that caught everyone’s eye. By the time she was sixteen, she was no longer the lanky girl who could outrun every boy in the neighborhood. She had grown into a striking young woman, her figure curving in ways that drew glances and stares—none of which she ever seemed to notice. Kagura wore her confidence like armor, her tomboy spirit untouched by the changes that came with adolescence. She still preferred a sparring match over gossip and had no patience for the fluttering hearts of those who tried to woo her with flowers and sweet words.

For Taka, watching Kagura grow was like witnessing a masterpiece in progress. She was the one constant in his life that made sense, the one person who made him feel normal, even when everything else was anything but. He watched her from the sidelines, half in awe, half terrified that she would someday leave him behind. Because Taka had a secret—one that weighed on him like a shackle around his heart. He was the heir to his father’s legacy, destined to become the next head of the family of assassins that served the government’s darkest whims. Every night, after Kagura had gone home, Taka would retreat into the underground training rooms, hidden beneath the façade of his unassuming home. There, his father’s men would put him through rigorous training—sparring, weapons, stealth—everything he would need to know to become a shadow among shadows.

At sixteen, Taka was already lethal in ways that no teenager should be. He could disarm an opponent twice his size, move without making a sound, and read a person’s intentions with just a glance. Yet, for all his training, there was one battle he was unprepared for—the one within himself. Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, his feelings for Kagura were growing into something he couldn’t control, something that terrified him more than any enemy he could face.

I’ve watched Taka struggle with this duality—his desire to protect Kagura and keep her safe from the darkness he was born into, and the inevitable pull of his destiny. He wore his masks well, hiding the truth from Kagura behind easy smiles and casual conversations. But there were moments, fleeting but undeniable, when the facade would slip—when Taka’s gaze lingered too long, or when his voice softened in ways he couldn’t quite hide. Kagura, oblivious to the world of shadows that Taka navigated, remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

It was on a rainy evening, with the scent of wet pavement hanging in the air, that I saw a shift. Kagura, drenched from head to toe, had dragged Taka out into the storm, laughing as she spun around, her arms wide as if to embrace the downpour. Taka, usually so composed, watched her with a rare, unguarded smile. For a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift, and he was just a boy, captivated by the girl who had always been his light in the dark.

“Come on, Taka!” Kagura called, her voice ringing out over the sound of the rain. “Don’t just stand there—you’re gonna get soaked anyway!”

Taka hesitated, glancing around as if the rain might somehow reveal his secrets. But Kagura’s infectious laughter broke through his reservations. Slowly, he stepped forward, the rain soaking through his clothes as he joined her. For the first time in a long time, Taka allowed himself to forget. He let the rain wash away the burdens he carried, if only for a moment, as he stood there with Kagura, both of them soaked to the bone but smiling like they didn’t have a care in the world.

As I watched them, I wondered how long Taka could keep up the charade. The world of shadows would not wait forever, and the day would come when Taka would have to choose between his duty and the fragile happiness he found in Kagura’s presence. He was destined to be a leader, a figure feared and respected in equal measure. But for now, in that fleeting moment under the rain, Taka was just a boy, hopelessly in love with the girl who had been his only true joy since the beginning.

Taka walked into the high school gates beside Kagura, the morning sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. The air buzzed with the typical excitement of a new school year, students catching up with friends or trying to find their way to the right classrooms. For most, it was a typical start to the day, but for Taka, every entrance was a carefully choreographed act. He had to maintain his cover—just an ordinary teenager, navigating the same highs and lows as everyone else. But beneath the calm surface, his mind was always running calculations, assessing threats, and preparing for whatever might come his way.

Kagura, ever the ball of energy, nudged Taka playfully. "Hey, race you to class?" she challenged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Despite her tomboyish nature, she was effortlessly beautiful, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail that bounced with each step.

Taka chuckled, his expression softening. "You know you’ll just end up late again," he teased back, but his smile was genuine. For a moment, it felt like the old days—before things had gotten so complicated.

As they turned the corner, they nearly collided with a familiar figure. Taka's cousin from his mother’s side, Akira Susume, stood there, leaning casually against the wall. She was their new homeroom teacher, and she made quite the impression. Tall, with a figure that drew attention in all the wrong ways, Akira had a reputation for her flirtatious nature. Her long, dark hair framed a face that was both stunning and intimidating, and her clothes, while professional, always seemed to accentuate her curves in a way that bordered on scandalous.

"Well, if it isn’t my favorite little cousins," Akira purred, her eyes gleaming as she looked them over. "Still getting into trouble, Kagura? And Taka… you’ve grown up nicely. Almost didn’t recognize you without that baby face." She stepped closer, her gaze lingering on Taka a bit too long. "How’s it feel to be the pride of the school? Don’t let it get to your head, alright?"

Taka felt a flush creep up his neck but kept his expression composed. "I’m just doing my best," he replied, his tone polite but distant. He was used to Akira’s teasing, but there was always an undercurrent of something more in her words—a subtle provocation that he couldn’t quite place.

Kagura, oblivious to the tension, rolled her eyes. "Don’t you have better things to do than harass us, Akira-sensei?"

Akira laughed, a low, sultry sound. "Oh, I’m just making sure you two don’t get bored. Besides, what kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t check in on my favorite students?" She gave Taka a sly wink before sauntering off, her hips swaying just enough to turn a few heads as she disappeared down the hallway.

Taka sighed, shaking off the encounter as best he could. "She hasn’t changed at all," he muttered under his breath, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Kagura.

As they reached their classroom, they were greeted by Minori Taiga, the president of the Kendo club. Minori was a senior, known for her athletic prowess and no-nonsense attitude. She had a lean, toned build that made her a formidable opponent in any match, and her sharp eyes always seemed to be calculating the next move. She gave them a small nod, her expression calm but not unfriendly.

"Taka, Kagura," Minori greeted, her voice even. "I heard you joined the Kendo club, Taka. Looking forward to seeing what you’ve got."

Taka returned the nod. "Thanks, Minori-senpai. I’m looking forward to training with everyone."

Minori’s eyes flickered over to Kagura, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Kagura, you joining too, or are you just here to cheer him on?"

Kagura smirked, crossing her arms. "You think I’m just gonna sit on the sidelines? I’m in it to win it."

The trio’s moment was interrupted when Riuyi Kitamura strolled up, the typical rich kid swagger in his step. With his perfect smile, designer clothes, and a family name that carried political weight, Riuyi was used to getting what he wanted. His eyes locked onto Kagura immediately, his expression lighting up in a way that set Taka’s nerves on edge.

"Hey, guys!" Riuyi greeted, his tone overly friendly. "It’s great to see you all. Kagura, you look amazing as always." He glanced at Taka, his smile tightening just a fraction. "Taka, I hear you’re making waves at school. Everyone’s talking about you. Quite the star, huh?"

Taka maintained his polite facade, though he could feel the undercurrent of challenge in Riuyi’s words. "Just trying to do my part."

Riuyi chuckled, leaning in closer to Kagura, his gaze lingering too long. "I’m throwing a party this weekend at my place. It’s gonna be huge—you should totally come. Taka, you’re invited too, of course."

Kagura shrugged, looking to Taka as if waiting for his response. Taka nodded, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that came with Riuyi’s presence. The guy’s intentions were clear as day, and Taka knew better than to trust the easy charm.

As the day went on, Taka couldn’t help but notice subtle changes in the way Kagura and Minori behaved around him. Kagura, usually so carefree and straightforward, seemed distracted, her gaze lingering on Taka in moments when she thought he wasn’t looking. Minori, meanwhile, was quieter than usual, her interactions with Taka marked by brief, almost hesitant touches and averted glances.

Akira’s teasing had become more pointed, her comments laced with innuendo that left little to the imagination. And Riuyi, with his too-perfect smile, hovered on the edges of their group like a vulture circling a fresh kill, always looking for an opportunity to sink his claws into Kagura.

Taka continued his routine, burying himself in his training and studies, trying to ignore the growing tension. But the changes were there, lurking beneath the surface of every interaction, and Taka knew it was only a matter of time before it all came to a head. For now, he kept his focus sharp, his instincts honed—always watching, always waiting, as the world around him began to shift in ways he couldn’t quite control.

Taka stood in the courtyard with Kagura, Akira, and Minori. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the school grounds, but the mood between them was strangely subdued. Taka took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his next words.

“I’ve been chosen to train in China for a month,” Taka said, his tone even but firm. “It’s an important opportunity, and I need to go. I wanted to let you all know before I leave.”

Kagura’s face broke into a smile, but there was something off about it—a slight hesitation in her eyes that Taka couldn’t quite place. “That’s awesome, Taka! You’re gonna be even stronger when you come back, huh?” Her words were light, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Akira tilted her head, her usual playful demeanor slightly muted. “China, huh? Big step for you, Taka. Don’t go falling for some exotic beauty while you’re there,” she teased, but there was an edge to her voice, a tightness around her mouth that hinted at something unsaid.

Minori, standing a bit off to the side, nodded curtly. “Good for you, Taka. We’ll be here when you get back.” Her expression was calm, but her gaze flickered away quickly, as if she couldn’t hold eye contact for too long.

Taka couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but he didn’t press. He trusted them—his friends, his family. They had always been there for him, and he knew they would be when he returned. With a final wave, he turned and headed off to catch his flight, pushing the unease to the back of his mind.

A month later, Taka returned from China, his skills sharpened and his resolve stronger than ever. He scanned the crowd at the airport, half-expecting to see Kagura’s familiar face or even Akira’s teasing grin, but no one was there. His father stood waiting, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“They didn’t come?” Taka asked, trying to keep his voice steady. His father shook his head.

“Strange. Kagura’s always been here to greet you,” his father muttered, a rare note of confusion in his usually stern voice.

Taka tried to brush it off, but a sinking feeling settled in his gut as they drove home in silence. When they reached the house, Taka noticed a package sitting on the doorstep. It was unmarked, no sender or address—just a plain brown box.

Carrying it to his room, Taka opened the package to find a small memory card inside. His instincts screamed at him to stop, to not dig deeper, but curiosity won out. He plugged it into his computer, and a video file popped up, recently recorded.

He clicked play, and the screen flickered to life. Riuyi’s smug face filled the frame, lounging on a plush couch, looking every bit the arrogant bastard Taka knew him to be. But what Taka saw next made his blood run cold. Riuyi was reclining back, smirking as Kagura knelt in front of him, her head bobbing rhythmically in his lap. The camera panned out, and Taka’s stomach twisted as he recognized Akira and Minori nearby, tangled with other men in acts that left no room for ambiguity.

Riuyi looked directly into the camera, his grin widening. “Hey, Taka. Guess you’re back, huh? Welcome home. Wish you could’ve been here earlier—we’ve been partying for two days straight. The fun’s still going, so why not come over? I’ve got room for one more.” He gave a mocking wink, his voice dripping with condescension.

Taka stared at the screen, numb with disbelief. This wasn’t possible. This had to be a trick, a cruel prank. Kagura would never… Akira, Minori—they wouldn’t. He forced himself to watch, his breath catching as he saw the glazed look in Kagura’s eyes, the uninhibited pleasure on her face as she serviced Riuyi. There was no hesitation, no sign of discomfort—only a horrifying eagerness that tore at Taka’s sanity.

Fury began to burn in his chest, hot and uncontrollable. Without a word, he stormed out of the house, ignoring his father’s concerned call. His mind raced as he made his way to Kagura’s home, clinging to the hope that this was all a lie, that maybe she was just at her house, that everything was still normal.

But Kagura’s parents greeted him with confused smiles, telling him she had gone off to a camp with her teacher and Minori for training. They mentioned how excited she was, how she talked about getting stronger. Taka clenched his fists, barely managing to keep his composure. They had lied to their parents—lied to everyone. It was all a cover for something far more sordid.

Something snapped inside Taka as he turned away from Kagura’s home, anger flooding every inch of his being. His footsteps were heavy, purposeful, as he made his way to Riuyi’s house. He didn’t care anymore about keeping up appearances or staying calm. For the first time in his life, Taka felt something primal and vicious stir within him, something that had been buried under years of discipline and restraint.

When he reached Riuyi’s mansion, the gates were wide open, as if expecting him. He marched inside, the distant thump of music guiding him to the source. The house was filled with revelry, but Taka paid no mind to the stares and whispers as he stormed through the rooms. He knew where he was going, and nothing would stop him.

He found them in the main lounge, exactly as the video had shown. Riuyi lay back on a lavish couch, his shirt half undone, Kagura straddling him with her back to Taka, her hips moving rhythmically as if in some trance. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed in a rapture that made Taka’s stomach churn. Akira and Minori were entangled with other boys, lost in their own worlds of pleasure, oblivious to Taka’s presence.

Riuyi looked up, meeting Taka’s gaze with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face. He didn’t stop, didn’t even flinch. “Taka! Glad you could make it,” he drawled, his hands running up Kagura’s sides, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. “Looks like we’re having a good time, huh? Don’t be shy, take a seat. Or… maybe join in?”

Taka’s vision blurred, red with fury and betrayal. For a moment, everything else fell away—his father’s training, the lessons of control and patience, the carefully crafted façade he had built over the years. All he could see was Kagura, her body moving against Riuyi’s in a way that felt like a knife twisting in his gut. The primal rage that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally erupted, and Taka lunged forward, his movements swift and lethal.

He didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care what consequences lay ahead. All that mattered was the searing pain and fury that coursed through him, demanding retribution, demanding blood. And for the first time, Taka realized that the true darkness he had been trained to wield was no longer just a tool—it had become a part of him, and it was no longer willing to be controlled.

AIDO watched, his expression darkening. “This is what you want me to see? You know how I feel about this—about betrayal, about hypocrisy,” he muttered, the bitterness of old wounds surfacing in his voice.

Ninaies leaned in, her gaze fixed on the unfolding chaos. “Keep watching. This isn’t that kind of story,” she said softly, her words carrying the weight of something more than just observation.

Aido’s eyes narrowed, the fire of his old self flickering behind them. “Destroyer, I agree with my past self. I want him dead,” he snarled, the anger in his tone unmistakable, echoing the fury that had defined him.

The Destroyer’s voice was calm, a quiet rumble against the tension in the room. “Just watch, my lord. Look at Taka,” he urged, his tone not dismissive but urging patience, as if knowing that the story was still far from its end.

Taka stood there, his body trembling with a cold rage that threatened to consume him entirely. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone with a steady hand, the din of the party fading into a dull roar in the background. He didn’t hesitate as he dialed the number he knew by heart—the number that had been his lifeline, his connection to a world that demanded everything from him but had never felt as deeply personal as it did now.

The line rang only once before his father answered, his voice calm and detached as always. “Taka.”

Taka's gaze never left the twisted display before him—Kagura, Akira, and Minori, lost in their ecstasy, oblivious to the shattering betrayal they had cast upon him. His voice, when it came, was low and edged with a darkness that surprised even him. “Father, I need a favor.”

There was a pause on the other end, brief but telling. His father had heard that tone before—calm, composed, but carrying the weight of something that had shifted irreversibly within Taka. The kind of tone that marked the beginning of an end.

“Go on,” his father replied, his voice devoid of judgment, just the same cold readiness that had guided Taka through every mission, every lesson. He knew his son, knew the depths of his capabilities, and the quiet but deadly resolve in his voice.

Taka’s eyes flickered with a resolve that had been dormant, buried beneath the pretense of normalcy. “I’m going to erase everything that belongs to Riuyi Kitamura. Every trace. Every connection. He’s taken enough.”

His father’s response was simple, almost dismissive. “You can do whatever you want.”

And that was all Taka needed. The approval, the unspoken permission to unleash the full extent of what he had been molded to become. Not just a killer in the shadows, but now a force with a personal vendetta—a wrath that extended beyond mere duty.

Taka pocketed his phone, his movements deliberate as he approached the girls. He grabbed Kagura’s wrist, pulling her off Riuyi with a force that sent her stumbling. Her eyes, clouded with a mix of pleasure and confusion, blinked up at him, barely comprehending the anger radiating from his every pore.

“Taka…?” Kagura murmured, her voice slurred but not completely gone. She was drugged, that much was clear, but not to the point of losing all rational thought. This was something else. This was desire twisted by Riuyi’s influence—a twisted game where she was no longer in control.

Akira and Minori lay tangled with the other boys, their responses just as muddled, lost to the haze of the moment. Taka’s grip tightened on Kagura’s arm, and his voice cut through the fog of the room like a blade. “What the hell happened to you?”

Kagura looked at him, and for a moment, there was a flicker of the girl he had known all his life. But it was quickly drowned out by the expression of bliss that overtook her, her eyes rolling back slightly as she leaned closer to Riuyi’s touch. “First come, first serve, right?” she giggled, her voice airy and detached. “I never… never felt something like this.”

Taka’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he turned his gaze to Akira and Minori. “And you two? Is this all you wanted? To be his playthings?”

Akira’s laugh was breathy, her movements languid as she pulled another boy closer. “It’s just fun, Taka… why are you so uptight? He knows what we want.”

Minori, usually so composed, was barely coherent, her eyes glazed with a mix of the drugs and her own conflicted desires. “It’s… it’s never been like this. We’re not… not just toys, Taka. It’s different.”

Different. That’s all they could say. Taka could feel the bile rise in his throat, a sickening mix of betrayal and fury. They weren’t completely lost—they were still themselves, still knew right from wrong. But Riuyi had twisted that, had used every skill at his disposal to pull them into his world, a world that Taka had fought so hard to keep them from. He had seduced them with promises of pleasure, of freedom from the constraints of their own lives, and they had fallen willingly into his grasp.

Taka’s fists clenched, the knuckles turning white as he realized the depth of Riuyi’s manipulation. This wasn’t just a petty game—this was a deliberate attack, a personal vendetta aimed squarely at him. Riuyi had taken everything that mattered to Taka and turned it into a grotesque display of power and control. And as Taka stared at the scene before him, something broke.

He remembered why he had fought so hard, why he had endured years of grueling training and carried the burden of his father’s legacy. He had wanted to change his destiny, to be something more than just a weapon, to be a hero in a story that had never seemed to allow one. But now, standing in Riuyi’s lair, surrounded by the shattered remnants of what he had held dear, Taka realized that the time for heroics had passed. The power that had slumbered within him was awake now, no longer content to be merely a tool.

Taka was not a supernatural force, not some mythical savior with divine strength. But he had knowledge, he had training, and he had the unyielding will of an assassin who had been honed to perfection. Every lesson, every kill, every shadow he had walked through had led to this moment, and he knew now what he was meant to do. This time, it wasn’t just about surviving or following orders. This time, it was personal.

He let go of Kagura, who fell back into Riuyi’s embrace without a second thought, and turned his gaze to Riuyi, whose smirk hadn’t faded for even a second. The arrogance, the belief that he had won, radiated off him in waves. Riuyi truly believed he had taken everything from Taka, that he had stripped him of his pride, his friends, his love.

But Riuyi had made one fatal mistake. He had underestimated Taka’s resolve, his capacity for vengeance. And Taka would show him, with every ounce of his being, just how wrong he had been.

“You think you’ve won,” Taka said, his voice eerily calm as he stared Riuyi down. “But all you’ve done is seal your fate.”

Riuyi’s smile wavered for the briefest moment, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes. “Oh, Taka,” he laughed, though there was a hint of uncertainty now. “It’s just a game, right? No need to take it so seriously.”

Taka didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes, a promise of retribution that went beyond words. He turned on his heel, leaving the room with a determined stride, his mind already calculating the next steps. Riuyi would pay for this—every last piece of his world would crumble, and Taka would be the one to bring it down.

As he walked away, the cold fury within him solidified into something unbreakable. Taka knew now that he wasn’t just an heir to his father’s legacy. He was his own force, a weapon with a will of its own. And for the first time in his life, Taka was ready to wield that power not for duty, not for training, but for himself.

Riuyi Kitamura had declared war, and Taka Takanashi was going to finish it.

The muffled roar of engines filled the night air, headlights cutting through the darkness as a convoy of black cars surrounded Riuyi’s mansion. Taka stood in the front yard, his heart pounding in his chest, his senses heightened to every sound—the grinding tires on gravel, the low murmur of men coordinating as they set up jammers, cutting off all communication. The lights of the mansion flickered erratically, casting long shadows that danced and twisted on the walls like specters of the violence yet to come.

Taka didn’t flinch as one of the cars pulled up beside him. The window rolled down, revealing his father’s stern face. He looked at Taka with a cold, unspoken understanding. “Your tools are in the back,” his father said simply, no questions asked, no hesitation in his voice.

Taka nodded and moved to the trunk, pulling it open to reveal a case filled with weapons—knives, firearms, tactical gear—all the tools of the trade that he had been trained to use since he was old enough to hold them. He strapped on his gear with mechanical precision, the weight of the weapons familiar and reassuring. This time, though, there was no detachment, no sense of duty; this was personal. This was his revenge.

Armed and resolute, Taka marched back into the mansion, his footsteps echoing in the hollow corridors. The party was still in full swing, oblivious to the encroaching storm. Taka moved silently, his movements fluid and purposeful. The first to fall were the security guards, their shouts cut short as Taka’s blades found their marks. Blood sprayed across the pristine walls, and the music from the party drowned out the sounds of their dying gasps.

But it wasn’t long before the screams began. The guests, high on drugs and pleasure, started to realize something was terribly wrong. Panic spread like wildfire as they stumbled over each other, trying to escape the growing chaos. Taka walked among them, his expression unreadable, his hands stained red as he dispatched anyone who got in his way. His eyes were cold, focused solely on the task at hand.

“No one will leave this place alive,” Taka declared, his voice carrying through the mansion. His words were not a threat, but a promise—a sentence passed down by the executioner himself.

As Taka continued his bloody rampage, something strange caught his attention. Amid the terrified cries and frantic scrambling, he heard a voice—low, seductive, and inhuman. It cut through the noise like a knife, resonating deep within him.

"Call my name. Death is too good for them. Let me be the strength the heavens deny you," the voice whispered, curling around Taka’s mind like smoke. It wasn’t a command; it was an offer. And in that moment, Taka had nothing left to lose. He closed his eyes, his breath steadying as he whispered the name that had burned itself into his thoughts: “ID.”

Two letters, but they carried the weight of something ancient, something far beyond the mortal realm. As the name left his lips, the air around him thickened, the lights flickering violently before plunging the mansion into darkness. Shadows twisted and coalesced, taking on a form that was both human and not—an entity born of darkness and desire.

The shadow stepped forward, its voice a deep, mocking rumble that seemed to echo from every corner of the room. "Pleasure is what you seek, eh? Let’s see if you can stand pleasure for eternity." The mansion itself seemed to groan and shift, the walls rippling as if made of living flesh. The floors became soft and pulsing, absorbing the terrified guests as they stumbled and fell. Screams of terror mixed with moans of twisted ecstasy filled the air, the once-opulent mansion now a grotesque carnival of unending torment.

Taka stood in the center of it all, his expression unreadable as he watched the scene unfold. The mansion had become a living entity, consuming everyone within its walls and dragging them into a hell of pleasure and pain. Riuyi’s smug grin was gone, replaced by a mask of pure horror as he and his cronies were swallowed by the writhing, fleshy maw of the house, their cries echoing endlessly in the dark.

Taka felt no satisfaction, only a hollow emptiness where his rage had once burned. He turned to the shadow, the figure that had brought his vengeance to life.

“You can join in,” ID offered, a knowing smile playing across its darkened features. “They won’t die, not anymore. You can unleash your rage on them for as long as it takes to sate you.”

Taka stepped forward, his hands steady as he took in the grotesque scene before him. It was not about the killing now—it was about the suffering. The endless punishment that Riuyi and his cohorts would endure, a fate worse than death. Taka raised his weapon, feeling the weight of his choices settle on his shoulders, but the rage pushed him forward. His strikes were methodical, not aiming to kill, but to prolong the agony, to exact a toll that would never end.

Time lost all meaning as Taka worked, each scream and wail blending into the next. Outside the mansion, Taka’s father orchestrated the final stages of their plan. The Kitamura family—father, mother, siblings—were rounded up without mercy. Their wealth, their power, their connections all meant nothing now as they were dragged, bound and terrified, to the doorstep of Riuyi’s mansion. The doors opened just enough for them to hear the screams from inside—the endless chorus of suffering that greeted them as they were shoved through the threshold.

One by one, they were consumed by the living walls of the house, their fates sealed the moment they entered. There would be no reprieve, no escape from the nightmare that Taka had unleashed. The mansion was alive with their cries, each voice adding to the symphony of terror that would echo for eternity.

Taka watched silently as the last of them disappeared into the grotesque, writhing mass. The shadows closed around him, the figure of ID lingering at his side, ever watchful.

“They’ll never stop screaming,” ID murmured, its voice a dark promise that echoed through Taka’s mind. “This is your victory, Taka. Your vengeance, your legacy.”

Nearby, Aido observed, his expression conflicted. His gaze flickered between Taka and the shadowy figure of ID, uncertainty clouding his usually composed demeanor. “Why, why, why, Destroyer?” Aido’s voice cracked, betraying the storm of emotions within him. “I feel satisfaction, but also sadness and anger. I don’t know how to feel.”

Destroyer voice echoes in my mind, “It’s normal. This is your first time witnessing betrayal from someone loved, you believe love can be eternal, but you case is special, the girls are around you are special.”

Aido clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing as he continued to watch the twisted scene. “That shadow is him, isn’t it? It’s AIDO… Those powers of flesh—”

“Familiar?” The Destroyer finished the thought, its tone contemplative. “I can’t see it, but I can hear it. It reminds me of the abilities of Luyira.”

As I watched this scene unfold, I felt a pull, a connection to the figure of AIDO—like a whisper from a life I was supposed to remember. The figure of AIDO seemed to realize something, his expression shifting from confusion to a grim understanding. I felt an overwhelming need to listen, to truly hear what was being said, as if these revelations were a part of my own history—of a destiny I had once shaped and forgotten.

As the last echoes of torment faded into the fleshy walls of the mansion, Taka’s strength finally gave way. He fell to his knees, his bloodstained hands trembling as he stared at the carnage he had wrought. The weight of his actions pressed down on him, suffocating and unrelenting, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The shadows that had been his allies moments ago now felt like chains, coiling around him, tightening as if seeking to consume what little was left of his soul.

The grotesque scene around him began to blur, the walls that pulsed with life and pain softened into something else entirely. The cries of anguish and pleasure were replaced by a profound silence, as if the universe itself had paused to witness his breaking. Taka’s vision swam, his surroundings shifting from a nightmare of his own making to a tranquil void that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. The shadows, once menacing, now felt gentle—almost protective—as they pulled him deeper into this newfound peace.

Taka began to sob, the tears spilling down his cheeks uncontrollably. He cried as he had never cried before, not even in his most vulnerable moments as a child. His chest heaved with the weight of it, the release of emotions that had been locked away for so long. The tears weren’t just for the lives he had taken, or for the betrayal he had suffered—they were for something far deeper, something that had been buried within him since the very beginning.

In that endless expanse of darkness, Taka’s soul began to remember. He wasn’t just a boy trained to kill, nor simply the heir to a legacy of blood. He was something much more. He had created this world, shaped it with his own hands. In another life, another existence, he had been the architect of this universe, the weaver of destinies for Taka, Kagura, Akira, Minori, and all others. He had given each of them their paths, their joys, and their sorrows. But somewhere along the way, he had grown to hate the world he’d made—the pain, the suffering, the endless cycles of despair.

His final wish, in those dying moments of his former existence, had been to become the hero that he never wrote into his stories. He wanted to be the one who would save them all, to rewrite the fate he had so meticulously crafted but had come to despise. Yet, when he was reborn as Taka, he was but a fragment of what he once was—his primordial soul, no larger than a tennis ball in the grand scale of his own universe, powerful beyond measure yet undeniably small, fragile, and lost.

He had been given a second chance, but without the clarity or strength to see it through. His soul was still mighty compared to those born of the countless worlds he’d made, but it lacked the direction, the purpose that he so desperately needed. Instead of guiding him, his own darkness had nearly swallowed him whole, threatening to tear him apart from the inside. The rage, the desire for vengeance—it had all been too much, pushing him to the brink of losing himself entirely.

But in that critical moment, as Taka teetered on the edge of oblivion, ID intervened. The shadowy entity, far from being just another tool of destruction, had seen the truth buried deep within Taka’s soul. ID had stopped the complete collapse of his being, the explosion of his darkness that would have obliterated him entirely. In doing so, ID had granted Taka the chance to confront his own reflection, to see the path he had lost and the hero he still yearned to become.

The shadows around Taka held him gently, as if cradling a wounded child. He could feel the remnants of his power, raw and unfocused, pulsing within him—a reminder of what he was and what he had once sought to be. His tears continued to fall, each drop a release of the pain and frustration that had built up over lifetimes. He hadn’t saved anyone; he hadn’t changed anything. The world he had dreamed of, where he could be the hero, seemed as distant now as it ever had.

But he was still here. He was still alive. And that meant there was still time.

As Taka knelt there, the mansion slowly returning to its horrific state, he made a silent vow. He would not let this be the end. The darkness that had nearly consumed him would not define him. He would find a way to use his power, his knowledge, to rewrite the destinies he had once so carelessly woven. He would become the hero he had always wanted to be, even if it meant fighting against every shadow of his past.

ID lingered beside him, its form shifting slightly, as if in approval. "You remember now, don’t you?" it whispered, its voice carrying a strange mixture of warmth and cold. "The creator, the destroyer, the one who wanted to be more. It’s not too late, Taka. It’s never too late."

Taka nodded, still on his knees but no longer feeling crushed by the weight of his sins. He had a long way to go, and the road ahead was fraught with dangers he had yet to fully understand. But for the first time in this life, he felt a spark of hope. It was faint, barely enough to light his way, but it was there. And that was enough.

He stood slowly, the shadows retreating as he regained his footing. His eyes, once filled with fury, now held a quiet determination. The mansion’s cries faded into the background as Taka stepped forward, ready to face whatever came next. He would carry the weight of his choices, but he would also carry the strength of his newfound resolve.

Taka Takanashi was not just an assassin, not just a boy lost in the dark. He was a creator who had forgotten his purpose, a hero still finding his way. And as long as he drew breath, he would continue to fight—not just against the world he had made, but for the chance to make it better.

He walked away from the mansion, leaving the horrors behind but taking with him the lessons they had taught. His path was his own, and for the first time, Taka knew he was ready to walk it, no matter how uncertain it might be.

Ninaies crossed her arms, her expression one of exasperation as she stared at Aido. “Aido, you always do whatever you want, don’t you?”

Aido leaned back, his eyes scanning the scene before him. “So, you all want me to ignore the betrayal, but instead focus on the near destruction of a primordial soul? That guy was seconds away from vanishing completely. When he realized who he was and how he had failed, he nearly collapsed, creating an overflow of infinite negative emotions. He was breaking the boundaries of what a soul could endure. Of course, I wouldn’t ignore cries for help when they came from him. So, he created this world? Does that make him an Author Authority?”

Ninaies smirked, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “That’s the thing I love about you, Aido—you always manage to get involved in the messiest parts. Yeah, it seems girls really do love the bad guys, huh? He’s an author, all right. A mortal who gained power and popularity through his works—a writer, with countless souls watching his creations, pouring their energy into them, giving him the most troublesome gift for the heavens: the Writer’s Effect. The same force that can create saviors or demons, borrowing energy from other souls and channeling it into their creations.”

Aido’s gaze softened, contemplating the weight of Ninaies’ words. “So, he’s existed for so long that his soul began to evolve, drawing on the energy of others to shape himself. I get it, but letting him die like that—it was cruel.”

Ninaies shrugged, her expression indifferent. “You know how the heavens are. Primordial souls are born in endless cycles of eternity. One death isn’t much of a concern for beings like us. Sasael isn’t the only one who believes anything below our level isn’t truly a soul.”

Aido’s eyes narrowed. “He had to witness the betrayal of his own world, feel all the anger, hate, rage, and pain, and almost lost himself in it. It’s a miracle he didn’t die. And you did nothing—you let him fall.”

Ninaies met his gaze evenly, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I brought you here, didn’t I?”

Her words echoed, reaching both the old AIDO and Myself. It was as if they were speaking directly to both of us, and in that moment, a realization struck. We hadn’t just been brought here to observe—they were here to change a destiny that wasn’t worth the heavens’ intervention. Aido’s expression softened with the recognition that Ninaies had always been like this—calculating, yet strangely kind in her own way. That was also why he loved her.

As the voice of Destroyer, comforts me. “This was a story of the past, one you needed to see, but not to change. You are Aido, but you are not him.”

I brow furrowed, trying to piece together the fragments of my own existence. “Primordial souls? Souls? Destinies? There’s so much to take in… How many lives have I lived before I became me?”

Destroyer gave a slow shake of his head. “I have no answer for you.”

As the scene shifted, Aido’s gaze fell back on Taka. It felt as if years had passed in mere moments. Since the incident in the mansion, Taka had left the darkness and secrecy behind, choosing instead to step into the light with a campaign to gain power. With the support of contacts and loyal followers, he rose to power as a kind of dictator, marrying a young girl—pure, innocent, and as delicate as an angel. She was everything he wasn’t—fragile and elegant, the picture of serenity. Together, they had several children, and Taka set about transforming the country, punishing what he perceived as wrong and carving a path for a future he hoped would be brighter for his offspring.

But there was a weariness in Taka’s eyes that no crown could hide, an awareness that grew with each cycle of reincarnation. Taka, the only soul who continued to exist beyond death, had found himself trapped in an endless loop of rebirth, each time becoming more aware of his true nature. His name echoed through the ages, his followers whispering prayers to a deity who never truly transcended his human limitations. They longed to see him return to his throne, to lead them once more, but Aido had never seen him break the confines of a mortal body.

The truth lingered, unspoken yet undeniable—Taka was a god only in the eyes of those who needed him to be, a leader for the lost, a symbol of strength. Yet, even with all his power and knowledge, he was still bound by the same human frailties that had haunted him since the beginning. He was an eternal soul, cursed or blessed with the endless quest to become something more, to rewrite the destinies he had once dictated but now despised.

And as Aido watched from his place beside Ninaies, he understood that some souls were destined to strive endlessly—not to rule, not to conquer, but to seek the answers that had eluded them across countless lifetimes. For Taka, the journey was never about the power he could wield, but the redemption he could never quite attain.

The chirp of the birds and the sunlight touch my face, this time I feel refreshed but also meditating, watching Ninaies beside me, she is almost identical to the angelical being I was watching, her personality wise, and other features, could be she is a reincarnation too? And well, kinda not surprise, all the girls are sleeping with us, and Luyira over me as always, now I think about it we havent our usual mornings anymore, and I feel that has affect her.

I sit in bed and gently rub the head of Luyira. "It's time to wake up, little sister."

Luyira snuggles closer to me, her face nuzzling against my chest. "Just five more minutes, please?"

I laugh, amused at her childishness. "If you don't get up, I'll have to carry you around all day."

Luyira opens one eye, her expression playful. "That doesn't sound too bad to me."

I shake my head, smiling as I look down at her. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

She gives me a mischievous smile. As the other girls wake up one by one, Luyira was the first one to greet me with a kiss, tender and full with care, what is not usual for her, so I decided to reciprocate.

"Morning," I murmur, my voice soft.

Luyira presses herself against me, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck. "Good morning," she whispers back, her breath hot against my ear.

My hands come to rest on her hips, pulling her closer as we embrace. I can feel her heartbeat against mine, our bodies pressed together in a moment of intimacy. I breathe in deeply, savoring her scent, and then I hear her breath catch, her lips parting slightly.

As Alidia guide my head to hers, the rest seem to form a line to receive their share of the trade, while Alidia and I make out, I notice how everyone is different, and yet, they all love me in a way, it feels like I have an harem of sisters, with Luyira as the wife, of course, everyone are my wives, but it seem the power and abilities of Luyira has make her the main one, it is this favoritism? I wonder if this is why she was so clingy and jealous, but there's no time to think about it, with the girls kissing and hugging me.

Alidia breaks away from our kiss, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Mary, kiss me gentlely but it was a series of small kisses, bringing my hand to her belly.

Ninaies and Rina, kiss me both at same time, making it a kiss of three, this is something new, the feeling of both girls was so pleasant that I lose track of time, and they dont let go until Alidia tell them.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

The old lady demi-human speach from behind the door, she was telling us the breakfast was ready and that our companions where already in the table, after that I go to the bathroom to refresh myself, Alidia came with me, it was not for sex, just to be with me.

"It's nice to have a moment alone with you," Alidia says, her voice soft.

I turn to face her, my eyes meeting hers. "It is. I love having you here, even if it's just for a few minutes."

She smiles, her expression warm. "You always make me feel like I'm the only woman in the world. I know I have telling you share time with Luyira, to keep her at peace but she is also a grow up woman, so do not forget you other wives. After this is done we have to make a wedding ceremony"

I nod, taking her hands in mine. "I promise. I'll make it up to you. All of you."

Alidia leans forward, her lips brushing against mine in a brief kiss.

The morning light creeping through the tall windows and casting a warm glow over the room. Today was another day filled with purpose—having a meeting and breakfast with my wives and seem my father in law, the leader of the demi-human tribes. I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about the lively breakfast that awaited me downstairs.

After getting ready, I headed down to the grand dining hall, where the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee filled the air. As I entered, I saw my wives already seated around the long table, each bringing their unique energy and presence to the morning. Luyira, ever the playful one, was her usual bubbly self, her red bunny ears twitching as she nibbled on a piece of fruit. Her red and white tail flicked behind her, and she shot me a mischievous wink, her flirtatious nature on full display.

Next to her sat Alidia, lately I prefer to mention her name than our filial title. She exuded a quiet authority and wisdom that made her impossible to ignore. Even in this casual setting, she carried herself with a regal poise that demanded respect. She glanced at me, her stern demeanor softening just a bit with a warm smile reserved only for those she truly cared about.

Mary, the divine saint whose healing powers had protected our Empire countless times, sat beside Alidia. Her hand rested on her pregnant belly, her serene smile radiating a gentle warmth that filled the room. Watching her, I felt a surge of joy and pride—Mary was the embodiment of peace, and her pregnancy was a beacon of hope for our future.

Ninaies, my oldest friend and one of my most trusted allies, was deep in conversation with Rina, her constant companion. Ninaies still had that familiar tomboyish charm, but she had grown into a thoughtful and mature leader, her empathy making her a natural mediator. Beside her, Rina was a bundle of cheerful chaos—her raccoon demi-human features as the red markings on her face and a fluffy tail that always seemed to be in motion. Her airheadedness was part of her charm, and her positivity was infectious. She adored Ninaies and often clung to her side, a constant source of playful distraction.

All of them are beast in the sheets, but graceful in public, so I wonder if their personality also change in bed.

I took my seat between Luyira and Alidia, earning a playful tease from Luyira as she nudged me with her shoulder. “Finally here, huh? Took you long enough,” she laughed, her ears twitching with amusement.

“I couldn’t resist a few extra minutes of quiet,” I replied, chuckling as I settled in. Ninaies shot me a knowing look, one that said we overdid for a first time in intimacy, as my thoughts were filled with the memories of last night.

“You do have a knack for making an entrance,” Alidia noted, her voice a blend of affection and authority. “But it’s good you’re here. We have a lot to discuss.”

As breakfast continued, the doors to the dining hall opened, and in walked Leonidas and Chimara. Leonidas, with his strong build and majestic lion features, carried himself with the confidence of a leader. His golden mane and piercing gaze gave him an air of command that was hard to ignore. Chimara, just as imposing with her muscular frame and regal presence, matched his stride. They were a powerful pair, each embodying the strength and grace of their kind.

Leonidas took his seat, spreading a stack of documents on the table. “The numbers are staggering,” he began, his deep voice capturing everyone’s attention. “Resources to feed a hundred million, but the human population is just two million, and we demi-humans number less than six thousand. This could solve the problems we’ve had in the arid zones.”

Chimara nodded thoughtfully. “These resources could finally end the suffering of our tribes. No more demi-humans having to bear ‘hairless cubs’ just to survive.” She glanced around the table, her eyes lingering on each of us. “This isn’t just about survival; it’s about dignity and a future where we don’t have to sell our pride to get by.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over us like a heavy blanket. The ‘hairless cubs’—demi-humans with mostly human features—had always been a sensitive subject. They were the result of desperate measures, often seen as symbols of shame or the outcome of deals struck with humans to survive. I knew the pain that stigma caused among their tribes.

Alidia, ever the strategist, leaned forward, her gaze intense. “It’s time we change how demi-humans are integrated into human society. They’re more than just Hunters—defenders against the mutant beasts that threaten us all. They can be scouts, messengers, explorers, artisans. Their adaptability and resilience are strengths we desperately need.”

Mary, her hand still gently resting on her belly, spoke softly but with conviction. “We share a common enemy in the mutant beasts. Our strengths are complementary, and together, we can build a society where every life has value. Aido, this is the future we must strive for—for our children and for everyone.”

I nodded, the full weight of their hopes and dreams resting on my shoulders. Uniting humans and demi-humans wasn’t just a lofty ideal—it was an achievable goal. But it would take time, understanding, and a commitment to forging a shared future.

Leonidas looked up from his papers, meeting my gaze. “Your leadership will be critical, Aido. As much as our histories have clashed, our future relies on unity and trust.”

I returned his gaze, feeling a renewed determination. “We’ve come a long way, but the journey isn’t over. Together, we can create a world that honors all our strengths and protects what we hold dear.”

Chimara and Leonidas' countenances changed subtly before they resumed discussing the challenges facing the tribes that had united under Leonidas' leadership. While I lack familiarity with the expressions of Demi-humans, I could discern a sense of solemnity on his face.

Leonidas had always called them "hairless cubs," an almost affectionate term he used for those who lacked the characteristic fur of their kind. But behind his words was a history of pain, a reminder that even within the tribes, they were never truly one of them. Resentment ran deep, carved into the soul of every demi-human who had been forced into the arid zones for centuries because of humans. Faces like ours were unwelcome, a constant trigger of old wounds, capable of igniting conflict at any moment. Yet the documents King Arthur showed Leonidas painted an even bleaker picture: slavery, prostitution, labor exploitation, abandonment. It wasn't just a memory of the past; it was a looming threat of what could be.

Rina was a hairless cub, too, though her family hadn't seen one for at least three generations. Her arrival was a twist of fate, and somehow, the tribe accepted her with open arms. Leonidas and Chimara took her in as their own daughter. But the acceptance of the tribe didn't erase the scars of her near abduction and attempted violation by another tribe. They understood now that it wasn’t just random violence; it was a reflection of the hidden fears and prejudices that festered even within their own people. Among the tribes, crimes were punished harshly, far more than among humans, but the unease remained. How many of them held onto these barbaric practices in secret, their hearts tainted by prejudice?

Then there was Georgina, another hairless cub, but her story diverged from Rina's. Her tribe was mostly composed of hairless ones, so discrimination was not a part of her daily life. That was until Leonidas appointed her as the leader of the bird-featured demi-humans. A proud people, even if not the best fighters, their feathers bore the weight of traditions. For the older generation, her hairlessness was a sign of weakness, a threat to their lineage. But the younger ones saw hope—a chance to find partners without sharing them with others or becoming a distant tenth wife.

Their biggest dilemma was the same as ours: there were far more females than males. Leonidas, always pragmatic, had asked Mary if it was possible to change the sex of some willing individuals, hoping to balance the scales. Mary, has the divine powers of a Retter Messiah, she has done it before but it is not as simple as sound, she said the process was long, excruciatingly painful, and she had reserved it only for Noble Blood Hunters, those with enhanced attributes and strong, young spirits capable of adapting to the transformation. It wasn’t an answer Leonidas wanted to hear, but it was the truth.

So here we were, facing a challenge not just from the outside world, but from within our own tribes. We had to reckon with the past, confront our hidden biases, and decide whether we would let them define us or rise above them. We had to ask ourselves if we were strong enough to change, to build a new future where being a "hairless cub" was no longer a curse but a part of our evolving identity. As I looked at Leonidas and the others, I wondered if they, too, felt the weight of this burden. We had the chance to rewrite the future, but the path was treacherous, full of sacrifices we weren't sure we were ready to make.

I met Leonidas’ eyes. There was resolve there, but also a question, unspoken but clear: Were we really prepared to do whatever it took to ensure no one else would suffer like Rina, or Georgina, or any of the countless others whose stories remained untold? The road ahead was unclear, but one thing was certain—we could no longer afford to turn a blind eye to the fractures within our own tribes.

Leonidas stood tall, his gaze fixed but burdened. "We share norms and rules. That part won't be hard to adapt to. As I mentioned before, the elders are the real problem—they're almost four centuries old, stubbornly trying to keep our blood pure. I get it, sometimes I feel the same way. I'd love to have a child of my own blood and species with Chimara. But I love my adopted daughter, Ninaies, just as much. And of course, I love you too, Rina."

Rina's eyes lit up with affection. "I love you too, Daddy. Even though I have my own dad, you and Chimara spend more time with me than my real family."

Chimara nodded, her expression softening. "I've never been able to conceive a child, Leonidas. I know it's your desire to have a cub—a lion cub. But you can count on us. Ninaies is our daughter. She's as much mine as she is yours."

Mary, who had been listening intently, shifted her weight, her voice tinged with optimism. "About that... I'll be staying at the guild clinic starting today. I think it might be possible to fix your issue, Leonidas, and Chimara’s as well. It’s possible for you to get pregnant, and luckily, you two aren't that old."

Leonidas blinked, a glimmer of hope breaking through his stern demeanor. "Really? It’s possible?"

Mary smiled reassuringly. "Yes, it’s possible. I've done it before. It's not an easy task, and it depends on the specific issues with the fetus, ovaries, or sperm, but I can do it. It's just a matter of time. My prime job has been bringing babies into this world."

"You're a saint," Leonidas said, almost in disbelief.

Chimara glanced around, her eyes narrowing slightly. "This means you’re even more important to both humans and us now. No wonder they want you guarded all the time. I didn't even notice the hunters surrounding this hotel, and they seem strong enough to take on Leonidas."

I hadn't noticed either, my senses usually amplified by Destroyer. It made me realize just how special the Demi-humans were.

Rina smirked, looking at the hunters and the girls around them. "Mhm, well, I see a lot of cub girls surrounding the hunters. Of course, they'd want a strong husband and wife."

Luyira laughed. "That reminds me, Aido. Sakura got hit on by a few hunters too, and Lizzie almost attacked the ones clinging to Francisco."

I raised an eyebrow, picturing it in my mind. "Sakura? I can’t imagine her doing anything without you."

Luyira shrugged. "Exactly. She teases me a lot, but she’s my oldest friend, and I don’t mind—as long as it doesn’t get, you know, physical."

"I don’t like the idea of sharing you," I admitted, the hint of jealousy creeping into my voice.

Luyira smiled softly. "It’s the same with me. We’re destined for each other."

Leonidas cut in, his tone more relaxed now. "It’s good to have a private life and occasional events. I hope we get more time to rest, but it seems today’s going to be a bit harder than yesterday. Arthur’s moving more people and told me to bring all of you to the guild."

Chimara nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll stay in the city and oversee the Demi-human settlement. We need to appoint more leaders after the elders’ deaths. The tribes are a mess, adapting well enough, but each species behaves differently in the end."

Leonidas scratched his mane. "Oh, and Michi—remember him? He wants to join your team, Chimara, but I placed him in another. He’s a good guy, but I’m worried about his newfound fanaticism for Luyira."

I caught snippets of whispers about Michi. He seemed like a decent guy with some quirks, but it was true—many were talking about Luyira’s powers, Mary’s skills, and even my own. But let's be honest, Luyira's abilities were beyond fairy tales: almost resurrecting the dead, killing hundreds of beasts in seconds. It’s no wonder people were overwhelmed by her.

Time slipped by without notice, and before long, breakfast was over. We exchanged our goodbyes and headed for the guild. The walk was more interesting than expected—eyes followed us, whispers trailed like shadows. Most were about our newfound status, our supposed divinity. By the time we reached the guild, it was clear that our next mission would be different.

Arthur greeted us, dark circles under his eyes but his spirit still lively. "Welcome, welcome. I didn’t sleep last night organizing everything, so I’m a bit tired and won’t be participating this time. We have two nests—a special one and a large one to conquer."

I glanced at the map Arthur had laid out. "I see. So the special nest is near the large one?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, it is. The location of the special nest is classified, but it’s not too far from the city. You'll find a group of Hunters stationed nearby."

Luyira leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "What’s special about it?"

Jessica’s voice broke the tension in the room. "It's the nest that Alejandro and the people of Star City were never able to conquer. It’s just a bit farther than the nests from yesterday."

Ninaies’ eyes widened. "Don't tell me—it’s the one where Alejandro’s son fell?"

Arthur nodded solemnly. "Yes, you've heard right. It's called the Pit’s Hell. Imagine an ant nest, but the entrance is a yawning pit in the ground, leading into a labyrinth of tunnels."

I rubbed my chin, mulling over the challenge ahead. "Sounds complicated. Why do we need to conquer it?"

Jessica crossed her arms, her expression grim. "The beasts can't climb out of it, right?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, they can. And when they do, it’s bad news for us. Alejandro’s last report said at least 10,000 beasts poured out from tunnels he had to collapse just to contain them. They managed to defeat that swarm, which then joined another 3,000. Thanks to surveillance, they got the upper hand with minimal losses."

Leonidas’ brow furrowed. "So, if it weren’t for that titanic beast, Alejandro would’ve survived the swarm we barely escaped."

Arthur nodded. "Exactly. He’s been preparing for this since he was young. His father took him on an expedition there, and it cost him his life. Their plan was to blow the nest, make it collapse, and bury the beasts inside. But the people of Star City believe there’s something deeper at play—maybe a queen or some other reason why the nest keeps producing so many beasts."

I added thoughtfully, "There’s a lot of vital liquid inside—primordial soup. It’s a treasure worth conquering, but…"

Arthur cut in, his tone sharp. "We’re sending only you, Luyira, and Frenia for this mission. Meanwhile, Alidia, Mary, and the rest will handle the other nest."

Leonidas raised an eyebrow. "And me?"

Arthur glanced at him. "We need you as the leader of the Demi-humans. You'll be liaising with the Lizardfolk, but there's more. We want a third of the combatants—Hunters and Demi-humans alike—to scout the area for any surprises. You know what I mean."

Ninaies frowned, her eyes darting to me. "So we're going to be separated from Aido? It’s too soon."

Rina tugged at my sleeve, her voice small. "Yeah! I want to be with you, hubby."

I placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. "I understand, but it’s a good plan. Ninaies, I won’t leave you again. And Rina, you’ll stay with me. I’ll protect you. Leonidas will be there too, so no worries."

Luyira nodded. "We’ll be fine. You all will be too."

Alidia chimed in, her tone pragmatic. "I don’t like it either, but this is necessary. We need to train the people and get the best results possible. If they don’t get stronger, they’ll die. Better they learn from the best while we still have time."

Leonidas sighed but nodded. "I understand. It’s true. I’ll make sure nothing happens to them."

Arthur clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention back. "All the details are in the mission files. I’ll send the information on the large nest to the tablets."

"Tablets?" we all echoed in surprise.

Destroyer’s voice hummed from behind us. "So they’re finally finished. Seems the androids worked through the night."

Jessica stepped forward, holding a large bag filled with devices, antennas protruding from them and humming softly. "Yes, they’re not as advanced as the ones recovered from the nests, but they have radio frequency capabilities, can store data, and even send and receive pictures. Think of them as a combination of a portable camera, radio, and notebook. Communication isn’t perfect, but you’ll need to carry these."

Jessica pulled out a device resembling a large, heavy tablet, more like a polished mirror or a crude brick than the sleek tablets from before. "Remember, use this lever to charge it. Don’t use magic—it’s too strong. And don’t crank it too fast or hard. The battery should last about a day, depending on usage."

Destroyer inspected the setup with a frown. "A portable radio station. It’s going to be a pain underground."

Leonidas stepped up, taking one of the devices. "I’ll make sure to teach the Demi-humans how to use it properly."

Arthur nodded approvingly. "Good. Now take your tablets and get ready. The transport leaves in an hour from the east gate. Good luck."

The meeting ended, and we gathered around the table to pick up our new "toys." The tablets were hefty, lacking the finesse of the ones found in the nests, but they would have to do. We split into our assigned teams: me, Luyira, and Frenia, who—despite her inability to take life directly—was still a formidable tank and could potentially overcome her limitations in dire situations.

The other team consisted of Alidia, Mary, Ninaies, and Rina, along with half of the Demi-humans and Hunters of the city. Their target was a nest teeming with at least 8,000 beasts, including several rank 2 monsters. The nest sprawled across an old factory and airport site—a vast terrain. We hadn’t managed to build planes yet, but we understood the concept thanks to historical records.

Our mission was aptly named—Hell’s Pit. The entrance had collapsed, forcing the beasts to tunnel and carve their way out, especially the lizard-like ones who climbed the walls with ease. Alejandro’s reports mentioned that once they even poured oil and set it ablaze, but when his team descended to check, they were wiped out by beasts still lurking in the tunnels. Alejandro’s son’s records of that fateful encounter were missing, leaving only speculation.

As I stared at the map of Hell's Pit, a chill ran down my spine. This mission wasn't just about killing beasts—it was about facing the unknown, the horrors lurking in the dark. The stakes had never been higher, but with my team by my side, we would find a way to conquer the unconquerable.

Before making any moves, we decided to contact the others to check on their progress and the situation on their end. The clarity with which their voices came through on these tablets was astounding—like they were right next to us. It turned out that Leonidas and his team were advancing slowly through the terrain, which had been much easier for us to traverse without trucks or mechs. Leonidas didn’t seem to be enjoying his role as a diplomat to the cold-blooded Lizardmen—more reptilian and distant than the Demi-human reptiles. However, their hostility had lessened somewhat after eating and seeing that other reptilian Demi-humans were peacefully coexisting with the rest. Communication attempts were progressing much better.

We also received word that Nerisse, Michi, and Daisy’s group had been sent to an area near the nest to search for others resembling the Lizardmen—Orcs, Goblins, Dragons, or any group that didn’t seem to belong to either the mutant beasts or our own factions.

Luyira looked at me, her voice cutting through the static. "So, everything is okay with the others, but we’re the only ones reaching the target location."

We stood at the edge of Hell’s Pit, a gaping maw in the earth. The pit yawned before us, its depths cloaked in darkness, the ground around it fractured and unstable. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and rotting flesh, the cries of beasts echoing from within. The landscape was a nightmare of jagged rocks and treacherous slopes—an environment designed to collapse upon the unwary.

Destroyer’s mechanical voice hummed with a hint of caution. "It seems enormous, even without my sensors. I can sense thousands of beasts inside."

Frenia's usually calm demeanor was tinged with unease. "No wonder it’s called Hell’s Pit. Their screams can be heard throughout the area, and the ground is a mess—likely riddled with tunnels that could collapse at any moment."

Luyira, ever the strategist, glanced at us both. "When fighting, if you can’t finish them, leave it to me and Aido."

Frenia shot Luyira a wary look. "Just don’t blow everything to oblivion. You almost burned me last time."

Luyira smirked, unfazed. "Don’t be a crybaby. It’s not like I could actually burn you."

Frenia rolled her eyes and turned to me. "Aido, please keep her in check. Even if we’re invulnerable, we can still feel pain."

I shrugged, giving Frenia a reassuring nod. "I’ll do what I can, but I’m not going to control her."

Frenia smiled slightly. "Thanks, Aido. You’re a true gentleman."

Luyira chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Hahaha, you just don’t know him like I do. If you had the opportunity, I’d show you."

I sighed, trying to keep the situation professional. "Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything like that."

Luyira leaned closer, her voice teasing. "That’s because I haven’t let you yet."

Frenia groaned, clearly exasperated. "Oh, come on, you two. We need to focus. We’re almost there."

She was right. I took a deep breath, centering myself. "She’s right, Luyira. Focus."

Luyira waved a hand dismissively. "I always do. But don’t worry, we’ve got this."

Frenia glanced down into the pit, steeling herself. "So, we jump in, right?"

Destroyer’s tone remained even, almost challenging. "Are you afraid?"

Frenia squared her shoulders. "Of course not, but I don’t like the idea of not seeing my enemy."

Destroyer’s eyes flickered as if scanning the depths. "Actually, you can. Enhance your vision and use magic. Fire or light can guide the way, and Luyira’s particularly good with light."

Luyira grinned confidently. "Leave it to me."

I readied myself, my grip tightening on my weapon. "On the count of three."

We all exchanged a glance, the weight of the moment pressing down on us. Together, we leapt into the abyss. The fall was disorienting, the darkness rushing past as we descended deeper into the earth. It took several heartbeats before we felt the ground beneath us, and the sound of our landing echoed like a thunderclap, likely alerting the beasts to our presence.

Luyira was already glowing with a soft, ethereal light that illuminated the cavern around us, her ice magic forming blades that she holds in her hands like a second nature. She had always had an affinity for ice, a cool precision that suited her fighting style. I, on the other hand, preferred fire and earth—elements that spoke of raw power and stability.

Frenia, her stance wide and solid, adjusted quickly to the dim light, her confidence returning as the cave became more visible. My vision, augmented by Destroyer, allowed me to pierce the shadows even further. We could almost see without the light, our senses finely attuned to the subtle shifts and movements around us.

The growls of the beasts grew louder, their forms shuffling in the darkness beyond the reach of Luyira’s glow. The tension in the air was palpable, each of us preparing for the oncoming onslaught. As we stood, poised and ready, the realization set in: we were deep within Hell’s Pit, surrounded by enemies unseen, and the true fight was just about to begin.

Luyira’s ice blades, emitting a chilling mist, danced alongside the heat of my own fiery blades. Their crystalline edges glinted in the light of our combined powers, weaving together as we unleashed them upon the monsters. She was a sight to behold—her red hair blazing like fire against her dark skin, her rabbit ears twitching as she listened for movement. Frenia, towering and muscular, her bear-like form radiating raw power, cracked her knuckles in anticipation. Though her invulnerablity, her eyes held a mix of determination and unease. She was pushing against her own nature, trying to overcome the ingrained hesitation to kill—even when faced with these abominations that had caused so much suffering.

Our enemies were not true beasts, but monsters born of machinery and chambers—mindless engines of destruction, created solely to tear apart anything in their path.

“Ready yourselves,” I said, Destroyer amplifying my voice with a low, metallic hum. “These things aren’t just beasts—they’re like war machines.”

The first wave hit like a tidal surge. Mechanized wolves lunged from the shadows, their eyes glowing a sickly green, metal jaws snapping with hydraulic force. I swung my blade, flames erupting along its length, slicing through the first wolf’s armor effortlessly. The creature fell in a heap of metal and flesh, sparks flying from its severed circuits. Even as their bodies decomposed at an incredible speed, turning to gas in the air, they still posed a problem in these confined spaces, making movement increasingly difficult. My best option was to incinerate them, turning them to ash, but oxygen wasn’t exactly abundant in these tunnels.

Luyira moved with the grace of a dancer, her ice blades cutting through the beasts with lethal precision. She spun and twirled, every motion fluid and efficient, as if she were performing a deadly ballet. “These things keep coming!” she shouted, her voice steady but laced with the exhilaration of battle.

Frenia, in her element, used her sheer size and strength to crush the enemies that got too close. She roared, a deep, primal sound that seemed to shake the cavern itself, grabbing a chimera—a grotesque amalgamation of bear and lizard—with her massive hands. With a swift motion, she slammed it into the ground, cracking the stone beneath. Luyira swiftly finished it off with her blades. Our synergy in combat was flawless, each move perfectly complementing the other.

As the battle continued, something caught my eye—faint lines and structures barely visible through the dust and debris of collapsed tunnels. It wasn’t just rock and soil that formed the walls; there were remnants of pillars, faded murals, and broken archways. This pit wasn’t just a nest—it was the remnants of an ancient underground city, long forgotten and now overrun by these abominations.

“Look!” I shouted, ducking as a beast lunged at me. Destroyer’s automated defenses activated, launching a barrage of fiery projectiles that tore through the creature. “These tunnels—they were part of a city!”

Luyira’s eyes flicked to the walls, her expression briefly distracted by the revelation. “This changes things. There might be more down here than just beasts.”

Frenia slammed another chimera into the ground, panting slightly. Despite her invulnerability and infinite energy, the mental toll was beginning to show. “I don’t care what it was. It’s what it is now—a death trap.”

She wasn’t the only one feeling the strain. Even though we’d only been inside the pit for a some minutes maybe a hour and half, the relentless onslaught of thousands of beasts was no joke. It was clear why the other teams had been unable to conquer this nest. They kept attacking us from the shadows and tunnels, and even though we were in a relatively open space, it was still smaller than any training ground—a fact that was stressful, even for us.

I focused, channeling Destroyer’s power to unleash a torrent of flame, incinerating a group of mechanized wolves that had flanked us. The acrid smell of burning metal and scorched earth filled the air. “We have to keep moving and find better ground,” I said. “If this really was a city, there might be more than just beasts hidden below. Maybe something that could explain why the nest is producing so many.”

Luyira nodded, her ice blades spinning faster as she cleared a path ahead. “Keep pushing forward. We need to reach the heart of this place.”

Frenia hesitated, her massive form bracing against the oncoming wave of creatures. “If there’s something down here controlling them—something we can stop—then we need to find it and end this.”

Destroyer’s sensors suggested a route through the tunnels, detecting fragments of walls and paths, and we began to hear something different from the usual growls of beasts—a faint mechanical hum, rhythmic and purposeful.

The beasts were relentless, pouring from the depths like an unending tide. I felt Destroyer adjusting to the pressure, recalibrating as my magic flowed through its systems, enhancing my strength and speed. I shifted the ground beneath a cluster of chimeras, splitting the earth and swallowing them whole with a surge of seismic force. The terrain responded to my command, a testament to the synergy between my elemental magic and Destroyer’s technological prowess.

As we advanced deeper into the tunnels, the vestiges of the ancient city became more apparent. There were signs of human habitation—broken structures, overgrown gardens, and even a fountain that still trickled with water. These remnants gave way to the more mechanical structures, the architecture becoming increasingly complex and sophisticated. It was a city of power and secrets, now defiled by the monstrous inhabitants that had taken it over.

Luyira, curious like she is, took note of the shifting structures. “This place—it’s illuminated. The deeper we go, the more intense the energy feels.”

I nodded, Destroyer’s sensors picking up on subtle changes in the atmosphere. “We’re getting close to something. Be ready for anything.”

Frenia smashed a wolf out of the way, her breaths heavy. “I’m always ready. But I hope this ‘something’ is the key to stopping all of this.”

Destroyer’s voice interrupted, cutting through the clamor of battle. "There—do you see it? That’s an elevator. It looks like we’re inside a large building. If there’s power and lights, it means we might have reached the right place—the core of the nest, the very fabric of these nightmares.”

We exchanged glances, the gravity of the situation settling in. Whatever awaited us at the bottom of that elevator could be the answer we were searching for—or the beginning of something far worse.

As the elevator doors slid open, we were immediately met by a hail of bullets. The sound was deafening, ricocheting off the metal walls of the elevator and forcing us to take cover. Destroyer’s shields flared to life, deflecting the incoming rounds with a crackle of energy.

Luyira reacted in an instant, her ice blades forming a protective barrier in front of us, the bullets shattering on impact. Frenia, unfazed by the gunfire, stepped forward, her massive form a wall of muscle and determination. She grunted, ready to charge, but I held up a hand, signaling for caution, even it could be gunners mechanical beast, it is clearly the shapes are from humanoids, maybe.

“Hold fire!” I shouted, my voice amplified by Destroyer’s speakers. “We’re not your enemies!”

The barrage ceased almost as quickly as it had begun. As the smoke cleared, we saw them—six figures emerging from the shadows of the complex, their faces gaunt and eyes weary but sharp. They were dressed in tattered tactical gear, patches barely holding their uniforms together. They looked like ghosts, survivors who had been fighting a battle far longer than we could have imagined. Most of them are holding firearms, but I can notice some swords and maces, it seem they were hunters or at least soldiers from Star city.

One of them, a man with a grizzled beard and sunken eyes, lowered his weapon, relief washing over his features. “Humans…” he breathed, his voice cracking. “You’re humans.”

The rest of the group lowered their weapons, disbelief and hope mingling on their faces. A woman stepped forward, her hair tied back in a messy bun, eyes scanning us warily but with a flicker of desperate hope. “Are you here to finish the job? To end this nightmare? How many coming with you?”

I nodded, stepping out from behind the shield Luyira had created. “We’re here to shut down this nest and rescue anyone we can. You’ve been down here this whole time?”

The man nodded, his expression somber. “Months. We were part of a one scouting team—sent in to gather intel on the nest. We lost most of our people, but we found this place… a safe zone. The beasts won’t enter here. We were around 3 hundreds in total with 280 people as Hunters and us 30 people as scout. By the way my name is Darwin, she is Milinia, Oscar, Cesar, Francisco, and Jessi”

We glanced around the room. It was a command center, a relic of a time when this place had been more than just a factory of nightmares. Screens flickered with live feeds from hundreds of cameras, displaying the vast expanse of the facility. The setup was eerily reminiscent of the scenes from old-world stories—like something out of a sci fi movie but even greater, Rows upon rows of mechanized chambers, each one producing the monstrous beasts we had been battling. Conveyor belts carried half-formed creatures into deeper parts of the factory, where they were completed and unleashed.

Luyira’s eyes widened at the sight. “This… this is where they’re all coming from. A literal factory of monsters.”

Frenia, usually stoic, couldn’t hide her disgust. “I have seem the other nest but this is different, bigger, more complex, I though the mechanical parts growth with them.”

Destroyer, clear the misunderstanding,and shocked the 6 persons in the process, they were thinking a four person was with us, no a talking armor, I am getting used to this,"Depend the process, some actually growth with them in the chambers, but seem here the process is more forced, more cruel, that would explain why we have not meet so many gunners or range attackers, it seem they lack of the resources to create ammo, or energy charges"

Then Destroyer’s interface began to hum with activity as it scanned the room, tapping into the network of the command center. “This place is a treasure trove of information,” Destroyer said, its voice low and analytical. “Not only are there records of how these beasts are produced, but there’s something else—historical data on the transformation of humans into Demi-humans. Detailed logs, but no tools to actually perform the procedure. There are something here, an AI, it is kinda primitive, but it is clear was used to create this monsters, but here, information it was not used, but it is a process to change humans into Demi-humans, and this is not the core, of the city but is the factory of the monsters the core of the nest, it seem the city was call, Dome barrier New Maryland.”

I glanced at the screens, watching as data streamed across them. “So this place doesn’t just create monsters. It holds the secrets of turning humans into Demi-humans. But without the equipment, it’s just knowledge… not power. And the process, seem painful and cruel.”

Destroyer, changed his voice to a more comforting one, "This process it is cruel, even the process of sex change that Mary is able to do, it is not as painful and crude, it seem, the changes were more forced, with little changes in their genetics to only not reject the implants, I feel they were the first intents."

The woman Milinia from the survivor group stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the screen displaying the vast reserves of primordial soup—glowing vats filled with the very essence of life and mutation. “We’ve been trying to make sense of it all,” she said. “We’ve seen it all through these cameras, but without help, we’re stuck. We thought maybe we could destroy it from within, but it’s too much. The beasts don’t enter here, but the moment we step out… it’s hell. And you are mentioning, Demi humans, they are related to the beasts?”

I feel a chill in my spine, to clear the misunderstanding soon, "Nope, they are not related, the process are, our demi humans are more complex and natural if you can say that, but is true they seem to begin as humans and that is why we are compatible with them, this seem to confirm it"

I took a deep breath, processing the information. This place was more than just a nest—it was a factory for creating monsters and the key to turning humans into Demi-humans. A powerful discovery, but also a dangerous one. The implications were staggering; this was a treasure trove of knowledge that could shift the balance of power in our world.

Frenia crossed her massive arms, her voice firm and unwavering. “You’ve done well to survive this long. But now that we’re here, we’re going to put an end to this.”

Darwin stepped forward, eyes flickering with a mixture of hope and skepticism. “Thank God. We’re from Star City. You must be from there too, right? How many of you came this time? You seem confident… too confident for a team with losses. Are you the scouts?”

Luyira, always direct and unwilling to sugarcoat, answered before Frenia or I could. “Nope, it’s just the three of us. But don’t worry—we’ve already killed thousands of these beasts.”

Darwin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? How?”

They’ve been down here for months, cut off from the outside world. They likely know nothing about the ongoing campaign to conquer the Nests or the fall of Star City. It also explained the way they kept glancing at Luyira and Frenia, as if they were seeing something beyond comprehension.

I decided to lay things out clearly. “My name is Aido, and this here is Destroyer, my living armor—the fourth voice you hear. This is Frenia, known as ‘The Warrior,’ a Retter Messiah who used to defend the walls, and she’s my wife, Luyira, also a Retter Messiah. As you can see, they have tails and animal ears.”

Oscar, one of the Hunters, broke into a grin, excitement replacing the fatigue in his eyes. “Really? That’s incredible news! They’re like the heroes Darwin always talks about.”

I pressed on, trying to gauge their knowledge. “Do you know anything about the campaign against the nests?”

Darwin shook his head, confusion clouding his features. “Campaign? What do you mean?”

I filled in the blanks. “It’s a long story, but we’re on a mission to conquer all the nests. We’ve faced our share of challenges, but we’re confident we can take down this one, even with just the four of us. Once we’ve cleared it, we’ll get you all out of here. How have you been surviving?”

Oscar and Jessi exchanged glances before Oscar spoke. “Over there, in the corner, there’s a room with some machines. They give us food when we say we’re hungry.”

Curious as ever, Luyira immediately went to test the machines, tapping on the panels. To our surprise, they responded to her commands, dispensing meals that looked surprisingly edible.

Frenia grabbed a tray and took a bite, her eyes widening. “Fantastic. They’re actually kind of tasty.”

Destroyer scanned the room, focusing on the labels. “The signs in the room say—”

Luyira interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “Snacks, food, and drinks.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Wow, you can read that, Luy?”

She shook her head, her ears twitching playfully. “Nope, but I just feel like that’s what it says.”

Frenia frowned at the panel. “All I see are dots and commas.”

Destroyer cut in, redirecting our focus. “Let’s save that for later. At least we can rest and eat something, even if we don’t need it. For now, leave everything to me.”

Destroyer continued to process the data, pulling up schematics and blueprints from the command center’s network. “This setup is extensive, but we have a problem. Even if I can shut down the chambers, the nest’s complete deactivation is more complicated. We can control several functions from here, but the conveyors and key mechanical components are controlled from two other command centers. One manages the mechanical parts, and the other oversees the rank 2 beasts. Additionally, there are malfunctions producing the chimeras we encountered earlier.”

I noticed as we delved deeper into the main nest, the mutated beasts we faced became increasingly monstrous—twisted, abominable forms that barely resembled any natural creatures. Thankfully, we hadn’t encountered any worms in this section; those would have been a nightmare in these cramped conditions. And I was grateful we hadn’t blown this place up—the sheer quantity of Primordial Soup here was staggering, with at least 80 tanks, each the size of a house.

Frenia looked over at me, her expression serious. “So what’s the plan?”

Luyira chimed in, her tone almost too cheerful. “Divide and conquer!”

Frenia raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Seriously? The one who can’t go five minutes without clinging to Aido wants to go alone?”

Luyira nodded, her ears bouncing with each movement. “Yep.”

A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. I knew that look on Luyira’s face—she was planning something. And whenever Luyira planned something without telling me, it rarely went smoothly.

I stepped forward, glancing between them. “We’ll split up, but not too far. Luyira, you take one command center, and Frenia, you handle the other. I’ll secure the Primordial Soup and this command room. Destroyer will guide us.”

Luyira’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Got it. But don’t worry, Aido—I’ve got this.”

Frenia let out a deep sigh but nodded, flexing her fists. “Fine. Just don’t do anything reckless.”

I could sense the tension in the air as we prepared to split up. Even with Destroyer's guidance and our combined strengths, the task ahead was daunting. Yet, for Luyira and Frenia, this mission was not just about conquering the nest; it was about proving something to themselves.

Frenia, despite her immense power, carried the heavy burden of her instinctual restraints. She could crush steel with her bare hands and withstand the most punishing attacks, but the act of taking a life—any life—was bound by an unyielding instinct to protect, not destroy. Her creator, most likely one Aido of the past, had designed her and her kin to be incorruptible saviors, but in this world, her inability to kill even the monsters that threatened her loved ones weighed heavily on her. Frenia’s struggle wasn’t just a battle against external foes—it was a battle within her very essence.

As we moved toward our assigned tasks, Luyira was the first to dart off, her eagerness evident. I watched her, her red hair a vivid streak against the dark walls, her rabbit ears twitching as she scanned for threats. She had already broken through her own restrictions, having accepted that not all beings were worthy of the protection her instincts demanded. Luyira had found a way to reconcile her nature with the harsh reality of their world—something Frenia still struggled to grasp.

Darwin and his group settled near the command center’s entrance, keeping watch over the machines that had sustained them for so long. I could see the fatigue in their eyes, the desperation that had carried them through months of isolation. As I moved through the complex, Destroyer’s sensors pinged with new data, mapping out the locations of the secondary command centers we needed to secure.

Frenia’s voice crackled through our comms, a rare note of uncertainty breaking her usually steadfast tone. “What if… what if I can’t do this? I can barely even bring myself to strike at these things. They look like they’re alive.”

I paused, weighing my words carefully. Frenia’s instincts were powerful, but I knew there was a way to reach her, to help her see beyond the limitations that had been ingrained in her nature. “Frenia,” I said, my voice steady. “These creatures aren’t truly alive. They’re objects, constructs—machines made to mimic life. You’re not killing a living being; you’re dismantling a threat.”

There was a brief silence on the line, and I could almost feel Frenia processing my words. For a Retter Messiah, instructions from a creator held a weight that went beyond simple orders—they were permissions, unlocking new potentials and possibilities. My words, though not intended as a command, resonated with her on a deeper level. If Luyira had broken free from her restrictions through her own experiences, perhaps Frenia could do the same, guided by the assurance that what she was fighting weren’t beings with souls but constructs masquerading as life.

Luyira’s voice cut in, light and playful. “Don’t worry, Frenia. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll feel so much better. It’s like popping really ugly balloons.”

I chuckled at Luyira’s irreverence, but I hoped Frenia could take comfort in our words.

As we secured the first command center, Destroyer’s interface buzzed with a new alert. “We’ve successfully accessed the control hub for the mechanical augmentations. I’m starting the shutdown sequence now, but it will take a few minutes. The network is resistant—likely due to the nest’s advanced protocols.”

Meanwhile, Luyira reported in from her location. “I’m at the second command center. Starting the sequence for the rank 2 beasts. I’ve got a few chimeras sniffing around, but they’re not much of a threat.”

I nodded, though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Good work. Stay sharp. We’re almost through.”

With each step deeper into the nest, I could feel the shifting energies around us. This place wasn’t just a factory of nightmares—the more I delved into the records, the clearer it became that this had once been a thriving community. From the fragments I could piece together, it seemed that the city was constructed as a sanctuary for an elite class, like Noble Hunters, designed to protect them from the very environmental devastation they had caused.

The city was meticulously sterile—no food shortages, no water issues, and, surprisingly, an absence of pollution, something new to me. Even bacteria couldn’t thrive here, as the entire environment was controlled to the extreme. Outside the city, however, the world was poisoned—contaminated with chemicals and heavy metals, a wasteland that made the harsh Arid zones of our current world seem almost hospitable in comparison. It was a grim reminder that this place wasn’t just built to keep dangers out—it was built to keep its privileged inhabitants safe from the consequences of their own actions.

As we worked, my thoughts drifted to Luyira’s playful nature and the way she managed to maintain a sense of normalcy, even in the depths of these horrors. It was a comfort that I didn’t take for granted, but I also knew Luyira well enough to sense when she was up to something mischievous. When she teased about separating, I could tell she had more than just combat on her mind. She thrived on our connection, and I couldn’t deny the spark she brought to every moment—even the dangerous ones.

Frenia moved through the dark, narrow tunnels leading to the command center that controlled the integration of bionic and mechanical parts into the beasts. Her heart pounded as she navigated the labyrinthine passages, her keen senses attuned to every shift in the air, every faint noise that signaled movement. Aido and Destroyer’s voices echoed in her earpiece, guiding her step by step through the darkness.

“Frenia, take the next left,” Aido instructed. “You’re getting close. Keep an eye out for rank 1s—they’re everywhere down there.”

“Roger that,” Frenia muttered, her breath coming in steady but heavy puffs. Her enormous bear-like form glided with a surprising grace, her massive frame barely squeezing through the narrow tunnels that snaked around her.

She had already encountered several of the monstrous abominations on her way here—hybrid creatures fused with metal and machinery, their roars and whirring mechanical limbs echoing through the corridors. Each time, she had fought them with her full strength, using her superhuman power to knock them down, to break their limbs, to incapacitate. But even with her immense might, something held her back. Every time she had one of them in her grasp, every time she was on the brink of crushing the life out of them, she hesitated.

The beasts were not alive in the traditional sense, but they moved, they reacted, they seemed to struggle, and something deep within her instinctually recoiled from dealing the finishing blow. Her creator had designed her to save lives, not take them. And though she understood that these things were not truly alive—that they were nothing more than twisted constructs—her very nature made it feel like a betrayal of her purpose.

Frenia smashed another chimera into the wall, the sound of grinding metal filling the air as the creature crumpled, circuits sparking. It was damaged, severely—perhaps beyond repair. But it still twitched, its mechanical eyes glowing faintly, and she couldn’t bring herself to finish it off.

“Dammit…” Frenia whispered, her frustration mounting. “Why can’t I just do it?”

“Frenia, status report,” Aido’s voice crackled through the comms, laced with concern.

“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “I’ve got them under control. Just… clearing the way.”

Destroyer’s voice chimed in, offering tactical support. “Proceed with caution. We’ve detected rank 2s ahead—leaders of the rank 1s. Expect a coordinated attack.”

Frenia nodded to herself, steeling her resolve. She moved forward, muscles tensed, her instincts sharp but conflicted. As she rounded a corner, her heart sank; the tunnel opened into a large chamber, and she saw them—several rank 2 beasts, each one a grotesque fusion of flesh and metal, towering over the rank 1s that scurried around them like obedient soldiers. Their mechanical parts whirred ominously, eyes gleaming with a predatory intelligence that the lesser beasts lacked.

The rank 2s didn’t hesitate; they attacked as one, their combined mass and speed threatening to crush Frenia under their weight. She swung her massive fists, managing to knock a few back, but more kept coming, their metallic claws tearing into her fur and skin. Panic gripped her—a primal fear of being trapped, immobilized. In an instant, memories flooded her mind—the day she lost her lovers, crushed by the titanic weight of an Armadantoise because she couldn’t bring herself to stop it. The guilt and fear that had held her back for so long suddenly found an outlet, a crack in the dam that someone—Aido, his words—had unknowingly opened.

“No… no!” Frenia roared, her voice booming through the cavernous space. Her body responded to the mounting threat, to the fear of failing again, the terror of losing those she cared for. Muscles surged, bones stretched and reshaped. In seconds, she grew from her already formidable three-meter height to an immense eighteen meters, her size and strength now dwarfing the rank 2 beasts that clung to her.

The beasts, which had once seemed so formidable, now hung from her like mere insects. With a single movement, she swatted them off, her newfound strength allowing her to fully embrace the destructive force she had always been capable of but had never dared to unleash. Her massive fists crashed down on them, her weight alone enough to flatten the abominations into twisted scrap.

For the first time, Frenia didn’t hesitate. The fear of failing, of being unable to protect, was gone. In its place was a fierce resolve—to ensure that what happened before would never happen again. She crushed the beasts beneath her, ending them completely, and felt a surge of release, as though chains she hadn’t realized were binding her had finally fallen away.

She didn’t stop to question or pull back. The threat to her friends, to those she was sworn to protect, was too real, too immediate. And in that moment, her instinct to save and her need to destroy these abominations aligned. She finished them without reservation, her colossal fists pounding the remnants into scrap, ensuring they would never rise again.

Breathing heavily, Frenia looked down at the mess of twisted metal and broken bodies beneath her. There was no life in them—no soul, no spirit. They were merely objects made to mimic life. And for the first time, she felt the weight lift from her shoulders. She wasn’t a killer; she was a protector. And sometimes, that meant eradicating threats before they could harm the ones she cared about.

“Aido… Destroyer…” Frenia’s voice, though deep and booming in her enlarged form, carried a note of relief. “I did it. They’re… gone.”

“Frenia, that’s amazing!” Aido’s voice crackled through the comms, genuine pride in his tone. “You see? You’re not just bound by instinct—you can do this. You have the power to protect in whatever way you need.”

Destroyer chimed in, data flowing through its sensors. “Command center is just ahead. Continue forward, and we’ll shut this entire operation down. Excellent work, Frenia.”

With renewed confidence, Frenia shrank back to her normal size, her steps lighter as she moved forward. She had faced her inner turmoil and emerged stronger for it. She wasn’t just following orders; she was carving her own path, guided by the permission she felt from Aido’s words, and by her own desire to protect at all costs.

Frenia pressed on, her resolve unwavering. She wasn’t just here to shut down a factory or conquer a nest—she was here to reclaim the power that lay within her, and to become the protector she was always meant to be.