Chapter 8

  Experiment Shooting Star

  It all began months ago. I had long suspected that Father was dedicating himself to something secret, something he refused to share no matter how many times I asked. The air around him had changed — his usual steady demeanor had grown more distant, his piercing gaze clouded with preoccupation. Whenever I questioned him, he would offer vague reassurances or change the subject entirely, leaving me with nothing but speculation.

  What could be so important that he couldn’t trust me, of all people, with the truth?

  The secrecy gnawed at me, especially since it seemed tied to the golden tower itself — specifically, the underground laboratory hidden deep beneath its shining facade. The place was shrouded in mystery, its existence known only to a handful of people. I’d only caught glimpses of it once or twice, through narrow cracks in sealed doors or in passing conversations I wasn’t meant to overhear. What little I had seen hinted at something extraordinary and ominous: towering machinery, strange glowing vials, and an eerie hum that seemed to vibrate through the walls.

  Whenever I pressed him for answers, he would merely brush me off. – “It’s not your concern, Arstria.” – He would say, his tone firm but oddly kind, as though he were trying to shield me from something.

  But that only made my curiosity grow. What could possibly be so dangerous or secretive that even I couldn’t know about it? I was no stranger to the weight of responsibility — I had been raised for it, molded by it — but this felt different. Whatever he was working on, it wasn’t just a project or an experiment. It was something that consumed him, pulling him away from the city, from me.

  And so, I watched from the sidelines as Father disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, into the depths of the golden tower. He moved with a single-minded determination, leaving little room for explanations or reassurances. The entrances to the lower levels were heavily guarded, with locks reinforced by codes and barriers only he could bypass. Even the air around those sealed doors seemed to hum with a strange, forbidding energy, warning away anyone foolish enough to attempt entry.

  2011-09-13

  I wasn’t just anyone, though. I was his daughter, the one he had named as his successor, the so-called First Star. And yet, here I was, shut out, left in the dark about something that clearly consumed him. The secrecy gnawed at me, driving me to the brink of frustration. I couldn’t let it go, not when it felt like whatever was happening below the tower was somehow connected to me — to us.

  When my own attempts to uncover the truth failed, I realized I had no choice but to turn to the only person who might be able to help me: Sapphire. If anyone could figure out a way past those barriers — or at least offer me some insight — it would be her.

  I found her in the training hall, her glasses put away as she practiced her spear techniques with meticulous precision. She didn’t even pause when I approached, her instincts focused on her movements.

  “Sapphire.” – I said, my voice firm as I tried to keep my frustration in check.

  She glanced at me briefly before returning to her practice. – “What is it, Master?”

  I hesitated, unsure how to phrase my request. – “I need your help.” – I finally said. – “I want to know what Father’s been doing down in the lower levels. He disappears for days, and no one will tell me anything. Can you help me investigate?”

  Sapphire stopped mid-thrust, her spear frozen in the air. She turned to me, her expression calm but faintly curious. – “You want to know what’s happening down there?” – She asked, as though the thought had never occurred to her before.

  “Yes!” – I said, my desperation slipping through despite my best efforts. – “Please, help me figure it out. I can’t stand not knowing anymore.”

  Her reply caught me completely off guard. – “There’s no need to investigate.” – She said simply, lowering her spear. – “The final step of the project will happen soon. If you’re that curious, would you like to be present when it happens?”

  I blinked, stunned. – “Wait, you know about it?” – My voice rose with a mix of disbelief and irritation. – “You knew this whole time and didn’t tell me?”

  Sapphire tilted her head, her calm demeanor unshaken. – “Of course I knew. I didn’t think it was a secret.” – She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. – “It didn’t seem important to mention. I assumed Sirius had already told you.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  She shrugged, her expression completely unbothered. – “You didn’t ask.”

  I opened my mouth to retort, then closed it again, realizing how pointless it would be to argue. Sapphire wasn’t the type to volunteer information unless prompted, and even then, she rarely seemed to grasp the emotional weight of what she said — or didn’t say.

  Sapphire had been explicitly requested to be present during the testing of the experiment’s results, so when the time came, I followed her to the elevator that led to the deepest parts of the golden tower. It was a rare opportunity, and I wasn’t about to let it slip away. Whatever Father had been working on, I needed to see it with my own eyes.

  As the sleek metal doors slid open, revealing the interior of the elevator, a wave of nervous energy swept over me. The polished walls gleamed under the fluorescent lights, reflecting Sapphire’s calm, focused expression. She stepped inside without hesitation.

  When we reached the lower levels, the atmosphere changed dramatically. The sterile, polished surfaces of the upper floors gave way to a more industrial design. The walls were lined with complex wiring and conduits that hummed faintly, and the air carried a faint metallic tang that set my nerves on edge. It felt like we were entering an entirely different world — one that was cold, calculated, and devoid of the warmth I associated with the city above.

  As we approached the final checkpoint, a group of scientists blocked our path. Their white lab coats fluttered as they rushed to intercept us, their faces a mixture of confusion and alarm.

  “Excuse me, but unauthorized personnel aren’t allowed beyond this point.” – One of them said, stepping forward with an air of authority. His glasses glinted under the harsh lighting as his gaze flickered to me. – “This area is restricted.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could say a word, Sapphire stepped forward, her piercing blue eyes locking onto the scientist with a glare that could freeze fire.

  “Step aside, human.” – She commanded, her voice as sharp as a blade. The authority in her tone was unmistakable, and the way she carried herself left no room for debate. – “Unless you want to go against the stars themselves.”

  The scientist hesitated, clearly torn between protocol and the intimidating force of Sapphire’s presence. – “I’m sorry, but that’s against regulation—”

  “Regulation?” – Sapphire interrupted, her voice dropping to a dangerously low pitch. She took a step closer, her expression hard as steel. – “Do you think your rules supersede the will of Sirius and his successors? Do you think your little protocols are more important than ensuring the success of this experiment?”

  The scientist’s confidence wavered, and he took a nervous step back. The others exchanged uncertain glances, clearly unsure how to handle the situation.

  “I-I wasn’t implying that.” – He stammered, adjusting his glasses nervously. – “It’s just—”

  “It’s just nothing.” – Sapphire cut him off, her voice ringing with finality. – “The First Star will be present, or I will personally ensure that every one of you regrets questioning her authority. Do I make myself clear?”

  Her words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and the scientists shrank under the weight of her glare. The tension in the hallway was palpable, but after a moment, the lead scientist relented with a sigh.

  I couldn’t help but feel a surge of both gratitude and exasperation as Sapphire strode past the defeated scientists without a backward glance, her confident steps echoing in the sterile hallway. Her overly rude tone might have been unnecessary, but there was no denying its effectiveness. I bit back a sigh as I followed her, my heart pounding with anticipation and unease.

  The end of the corridor loomed before us, a heavy metal door standing sentinel over whatever secrets lay beyond. Sapphire entered first, her presence commanding as she pushed the door open. I hesitated for a split second, steeling myself, and then stepped in after her.

  The sight that greeted me took my breath away.

  The laboratory was massive, a cavernous space filled with an intricate maze of machinery and bustling scientists. They moved with hurried precision, absorbed in complex calculations and tasks that seemed far beyond comprehension. Holographic screens projected glowing equations into the air, while the hum of equipment filled the room with an almost oppressive energy. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, and the atmosphere was charged with an unsettling mixture of purpose and tension.

  Soldiers lined the perimeter of the lab, their machine guns pointed toward the floor but ready to be raised at a moment’s notice. Their presence was an unspoken reminder that this was no ordinary research facility — this was something dangerous, something secret.

  And then I saw the center of it all.

  Sixteen massive glass tubes dominated the space, each filled with a strange, glowing liquid. Suspended within were human bodies. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the chilling sight. The occupants varied in age and gender — there was an elderly man, an innocent baby, a mid-age woman, a teenage boy, and those were only the ones I could see from clearly from here. All floating motionless in their glass prisons. Their faces were eerily peaceful, as if they were simply asleep, but the wires and tubes connected to their bodies told a different story.

  “What is this…?” – I whispered, my voice trembling as my mind struggled to process what I was seeing.

  “Experiment: Shooting Star.” – Sapphire said flatly, her tone unusually cold. For once, her confidence seemed shaken, and I could sense a trace of disgust in her voice. – “A method to mass-produce magic users.”

  My legs felt weak, my hands trembling as I clutched her shoulder for support. – “But how?” – I asked, my voice rising in disbelief. – “How is that even possible?”

  Sapphire turned to me. Her expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something deeper — anger, perhaps, or sorrow. – “Sirius will do anything to protect humanity.” – She began, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. – “You should know that better than anyone.”

  “What are you talking about?” – I didn’t even want to hear what she could be referring to, but I asked anyway.

  “By taking your blood, and researching it thoroughly, he began modifying and injecting human beings with it, to create a new breed of humans. What you see before you are the results of his work. These people were brought here to become stars. Today, we will see if his experiment succeeds or fails.”

  I stared at her, my chest tightening as a storm of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Anger, guilt, confusion, and betrayal warred within me, each one demanding to be acknowledged. The room seemed to close in around me, the cold hum of the machines becoming deafening in my ears.

  “How could he do this?” – I whispered, my voice shaking. – “How could he… use people like this?”

  Sapphire’s expression softened, but only slightly.

  I turned back to the glass tubes, my eyes lingering on the faces of the people trapped within. They were the products of my father’s desperation, his unrelenting drive to save a world that had already been shattered. And now, I was standing in the middle of his vision, staring at the cost of his choices.

  The cost of my existence.

  Before I could press Sapphire for more answers, a shadow fell across the room, and an unmistakable presence made itself known. My father stepped forward from behind the array of glowing glass tubes, his figure commanding as always. He moved with purpose, his dark attire immaculate and his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the laboratory.

  He came to a stop amidst the eerie, silent cylinders, his gaze sweeping across the room like a stormfront. The scientists instantly straightened, their hushed conversations falling into complete silence. Even the soldiers seemed to stand taller, their grips tightening on their weapons as they awaited his command. The entire room seemed to shift with his arrival, as if his mere presence had changed the air itself.

  “Let’s begin.” – He said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of absolute authority.

  My breath hitched as his words echoed through the vast space. Despite everything I had just learned from Sapphire, seeing him here — standing so confidently amidst the culmination of his secret work — sent a shiver down my spine. This wasn’t the man I knew as my father. This was Sirius, the last guardian of humanity, a man driven by an unyielding purpose. And right now, his focus was entirely on the experiment.

  The scientists sprang into action, their previously uncertain movements now efficient and precise. Monitors flickered to life, displaying streams of incomprehensible data. The humming of machinery grew louder, filling the room with a mechanical symphony of progress. I could feel the tension building, like the static charge before a lightning strike.

  Sirius turned slightly, his crimson eyes locking onto me for a moment. For an instant, I thought I saw something in his gaze — a flicker of acknowledgment, perhaps even regret — but it was gone before I could be certain. He didn’t say a word to me, instead returning his attention to the tubes.

  “What’s going to happen?” – I whispered to Sapphire, my voice trembling as the reality of the situation set in.

  She glanced at me, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp. – “The experiment has reached its final stage. They’re going to activate the modifications and see if the subjects — those people — can sustain the abilities granted by your blood.”

  “But what does that mean?” – I asked, my voice rising despite myself. – “What happens to them if it doesn’t work?”

  Sapphire’s gaze didn’t waver. – “If it fails.” – She said quietly. – “Their bodies will likely reject the modifications. Violently.”

  My stomach churned, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I turned my eyes back to the tubes, to the fragile, peaceful figures suspended within. They looked so vulnerable, so unaware of the forces about to be unleashed upon them.

  “Father.” – I called out, my voice breaking the stillness. – “Is this really necessary? These people — they didn’t choose this. How can you justify risking their lives like this?”

  He didn’t turn to face me, his focus remaining on the monitors as he spoke. – “Arstria.” – He said, his tone steady but devoid of warmth. – “This is not a matter of choice. It is a matter of survival. Humanity stands on the brink of extinction, and we can no longer afford to rely on miracles. If these experiments succeed, we will have the means to fight back — to reclaim our world.”

  “But at what cost?” – I demanded, stepping forward. “You’re using them as tools, as weapons!”

  He finally turned, his crimson eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. – “If this works, they will become more than what they were. They will become heroes. They will be the foundation of a new hope for humanity.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?” – I shot back, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation. – “What happens then? Do you just try again with more people?”

  Sirius’s expression didn’t change, but there was a heaviness in his gaze that I hadn’t seen before. – “If it doesn’t work.” – He said quietly. – “Then their sacrifice will not be for naught.”

  Before I could respond, one of the scientists called out, their voice cutting through the charged silence. – “The system is ready, sir. Awaiting your command.”

  Sirius turned back to the tubes, his posture resolute. – “Activate it.” – He ordered, his voice unwavering.

  The room seemed to hold its breath as the command was executed. Lights flickered ominously, casting shifting shadows on the walls, and the hum of machinery rose into a deafening roar. Inside the tubes, the glowing liquid began to churn violently, its serene glow replaced by a chaotic, almost malevolent energy. The bodies within twitched and jerked, their peaceful expressions contorting into ones of pain and confusion. It was as if their very souls were being wrenched apart.

  And then, the sound came.

  It began with a sharp, piercing crack that echoed through the laboratory — the shattering of glass. One by one, the massive tubes burst open in an ear-splitting cacophony, spraying shards and glowing liquid across the room. The bodies within tumbled to the floor in a grotesque display, limbs sprawling awkwardly as they gasped and writhed.

  For a moment, there was silence. Then, like newborns breaking free of their shells, the figures began to move. Slowly, shakily, they rose to their feet, their movements unnatural and jerky. Their eyes darted around the room, wide and unfocused, filled with confusion and terror. It was as though they were trying to make sense of the chaos around them, trying to grasp the impossible reality of their situation.

  And then they all looked at me.

  My breath caught in my throat as their gazes locked onto mine. There was something unsettling about the way they moved, their expressions eerily synchronized, as if responding to a silent, unspoken command. It wasn’t just the intensity of their stares that unnerved me — it was what I felt beneath it, something deeper, intangible, and yet undeniably real. A strange resonance stirred within me, a connection that defied logic. It wasn’t simply that they were looking at me; it felt as though they were me.

  The sensation was overwhelming, an inexplicable bond that pulsed through my veins like a second heartbeat. Their presence tugged at the edges of my consciousness, as though fragments of my very existence had been given form and placed before me. And yet, amidst the undeniable familiarity, there was a void — a gaping absence that made the connection feel incomplete, jagged, and wrong. I couldn’t name what was missing, but I felt it as clearly as one feels the ache of a phantom limb.

  Sapphire’s voice shattered my thoughts. – “Are you able to command them?” – Her words were sharp, cold, and devoid of the playful edge she so often wielded. There was no explanation, no rationale. Just the quiet, unyielding authority that made her statement feel more like an ultimatum than a suggestion.

  “What are you talking about?” – I replied, my voice trembling with confusion and disbelief. “I can’t, why would I be able to?”

  My words seemed to ignite something dark within Sapphire. Her composure cracked, replaced by an expression that sent a chill down my spine. Her usually calm, composure burned with something I had never seen before: wild, unrestrained, and terrifying.

  A spear materialized in her hand, its silver sheen catching the faint light like a blade thirsty for blood. She moved with purpose, her arm drawing back to hurl the weapon straight at their heads.

  “Stop!” – I shouted. Sapphire froze mid-motion, her body trembling as though caught in a battle against invisible chains. Her eyes flickered, and for a moment, I thought I saw regret flash across her face. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a blank, emotionless mask.

  “Leave.” – I commanded, the word slipping from my lips before I could think it through. The air between us seemed to ripple, and Sapphire’s body jerked, her movements suddenly stiff and unnatural, as though compelled by an unseen force. She turned and strode toward the exit, her departure swift and silent.

  The tension in the room didn’t ease with her absence. If anything, it grew heavier, like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon. I turned my gaze back to the figures before me, their synchronized movements eerily still. That’s when the scream tore through the air.

  It was a sound of pure anguish, raw and primal, slicing through the oppressive silence like a knife. My head snapped toward the source, and my blood ran cold. One of the figures had dropped to their knees, clutching their head as though trying to stave off some unimaginable pain. Their eyes were wide with terror, unfocused, as if seeing something far beyond the confines of the room.

  The others followed suit, one by one, their synchronized grace crumbling into chaos. They clawed at their own faces, their mouths opening in silent cries before another scream echoed, louder and more harrowing than the first. The resonance I had felt before now pulsed with discord, a violent cacophony that made my very soul ache.

  “What’s happening to them?” – I whispered, my voice barely audible over the growing symphony of despair. My feet felt rooted to the ground, my body paralyzed by the weight of the moment.

  The void I had sensed earlier seemed to grow, its jagged edges cutting deeper into the bond between us. And then, with a sudden, horrifying clarity, I realized: whatever these figures were, whoever they were, they were incomplete. Fragments of something greater, torn apart and left to suffer in their shattered state.

  I took a hesitant step forward, my hand reaching out instinctively, though I wasn’t sure what I could do. As if sensing my movement, the figures turned their tortured gazes toward me, their expressions twisted with desperation.

  “Help me…” – One of them rasped, her voice barely a whisper but laced with a pain so profound it made my chest tighten.

  The resonance within me surged, pulling me toward them like a tide I couldn’t resist. I knelt beside the nearest figure, my trembling hand hovering over their shoulder. The moment my skin brushed theirs, a shock ran through me, a jolt of energy that sent images flashing through my mind.

  Memories that weren’t mine.

  A kaleidoscope of lives that I couldn’t fully understand. I feel down, unable to move, as tears began to form inside of my eyes. Despair that I couldn’t fully grasp filled the entirety of my being.

  Then, I screamed.

  No, it wasn’t only me — all of them, screaming in unison. The sound was unearthly, a gut-wrenching wail that seemed to claw at the very fabric of reality. Their bodies convulsed violently, collapsing back onto the ground as their cries grew more agonized. Blood spewed from their mouths in horrific bursts, staining the floor and walls in gruesome patterns. Black veins began to spiderweb across their skin, pulsating and spreading like a dark, living infection.

  And then, the transformation began.

  They rose again, but this time, their movements were no longer human. Their groans were guttural, primal, as if their humanity had been stripped away, leaving only rage and hunger. Their eyes were entirely black, hollow voids that stared without seeing. The black veins had overtaken their flesh, turning their once-vulnerable forms into something grotesque and monstrous.

  Before I could do anything else, they lunged.

  Bloodborne Demon

  Ghoul

  With inhuman speed and ferocity, the creatures launched themselves at the scientists closest to them. Chaos erupted as screams of terror filled the lab. The creatures clawed and bite with a savage desperation, tearing into flesh as though driven by an insatiable hunger. The scientists had no chance. One by one, they fell, their bodies convulsing violently as the infection spread. Their veins turned black, their eyes darkened, and within moments, they too had become ghouls.

  I stood frozen, unable to move, my body paralyzed by shock and horror. The scene unfolded like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sounds of destruction. The creatures moved with terrifying precision, their grotesque forms tearing through everything in their path.

  “Open fire!” – One of the soldiers shouted, breaking the paralysis that had gripped the room. The soldiers raised their machine guns and unleashed a hail of bullets, the deafening roar of gunfire drowning out the chaos. For a moment, it seemed like the creatures had stopped, their bodies jerking violently as bullets tore through them.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  The ghouls didn’t fall. Their wounds closed almost as quickly as they were inflicted, the black veins pulsing with unnatural energy as they regenerated. They turned on the soldiers with a renewed ferocity, moving faster than the eye could follow. In seconds, they were upon them, claws and teeth ripping through armor and flesh alike.

  The scene spiraled into utter pandemonium. Scientists and soldiers alike were slaughtered, their screams blending into a symphony of terror. Equipment was smashed, alarms blared, and the once-sterile laboratory became a battlefield drenched in blood and chaos.

  I stood there, helpless, my mind screaming at my body to move, to do something — anything — but I was rooted in place. My chest heaved as panic clawed at me, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. All I could do was watch as the horror unfolded before my eyes, the weight of it pressing down on me like a crushing tide.

  The chaos reached a terrifying crescendo as one of the ghouls, faster and more ferocious than the others, locked its hollow, blackened gaze onto my father. With an unearthly screech, it lunged towards him, its claws outstretched and glistening with the blood of its previous victims.

  My father reacted instantly, his movements sharp and practiced, the reflexes of a man who had faced countless battles. His hands shot forward, and a wall of roaring flames erupted in front of him, a barrier of searing heat that had incinerated many beasts in the past. The fire blazed brightly, illuminating the lab with its golden light and casting monstrous shadows on the walls.

  I held my breath, expecting the ghoul to be consumed by the flames, its grotesque body reduced to ash the moment it touched the barrier. But then, to my utter horror, the creature didn’t stop.

  With a terrifying shriek, the ghoul leapt straight through the firewall, its black veins pulsating as it emerged on the other side unscathed. The flames clung to its body for a brief moment before flickering out, as though the creature had rejected their very essence.

  “What?!” – My father exclaimed, his usually steady voice laced with shock. He stumbled back, his crimson eyes widening as he watched the impossible unfold.

  My heart sank as the realization hit me. My father’s barrier wasn’t designed to repel humans — it was meant to stop the beasts we had fought for years. The monstrous invaders that had brought humanity to the brink of extinction were bound by rules, their very nature tied to the curse of the barrier. But these ghouls were different. They weren’t the creatures we had spent our lives fighting against.

  They were human.

  The ghoul reached my father in an instant, swiping at him with claws that seemed to tear through the very air. He dodged with practiced precision, the flames around him intensifying as he summoned another barrier. This one erupted in a dome of fire, trying to push the creature back momentarily, but it didn’t falter. It simply walked past.

  The creature lunged forward with inhuman speed, its grotesque claws swiping away the last remnants of my father’s fiery defense. Then, it opened its jaws wide, a guttural screech erupting from its throat as it prepared to end my father’s life right then and there.

  Time seemed to slow as I watched in horror. My father, the unshakable Sirius, who had stood as humanity’s last guardian, now vulnerable and at the mercy of this abomination.

  “I’m sorry.” – I whispered, my voice trembling yet resolute, the words echoing through the room. In an instant, I placed myself between my father and the creature, my movements driven by pure instinct. My hand shot out, steady despite the storm raging within me, and I pointed it directly at the human-turned-monster before me. A single tear slipped from the corner of my eye, tracing a warm line down my cheek as I gathered the energy within me.

  A burst of fire erupted from my palm, engulfing the creature in a roaring inferno. The flames were relentless, their golden light illuminating the room and casting long shadows against the carnage. The ghoul thrashed and screeched, its grotesque form writhing within the blaze as the black veins on its body pulsed frantically.

  It tried to heal itself, its unnatural regeneration kicking in almost instantly. The wounds I inflicted closed just as quickly as they opened, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though my efforts might not be enough.

  But I didn’t stop.

  Gritting my teeth, I poured everything I had into the flames, willing them to burn hotter, stronger. The air around us grew searingly hot, the heat pressing against my skin and filling the room with an oppressive intensity. The ghoul’s regeneration began to falter, its body trembling violently as the flames consumed it faster than it could repair itself.

  This wasn’t just a monster — it was a human being, twisted and corrupted, but still human. It bore my blood, my essence, and yet I was destroying it.

  But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t.

  The ghoul’s screams grew weaker, its thrashing slowing as the flames devoured what was left of its form. Finally, with one last surge of fire, I pushed beyond my limits, ensuring there was nothing left to regenerate. The creature’s body disintegrated into ash, the black veins vanishing into the air as though they had never existed.

  But I knew that wasn’t the end of it.

  The chaotic din of the laboratory settled into an eerie stillness as the last of the transformed scientists and soldiers let out guttural growls. Their black-veined bodies twitched unnaturally, and their hollow, void-like eyes glinted with an unholy hunger. Sapphire was gone, obeying my order to leave, but the price of that command now weighed heavily on my shoulders. My father stood behind me, silent but alert, his usual air of confidence replaced with a rare trace of vulnerability.

  I tightened my grip on the twin rapiers at my sides, the cold metal a reassuring weight in my hands. The hilts felt like extensions of myself, their worn grips molded perfectly to my fingers. With a deliberate motion, I pulled the blades free from their sheaths, the ringing sound cutting through the oppressive silence like a declaration of defiance.

  Their attention snapped to me. More than thirty pairs of soulless, inhuman eyes turned in unison, their grotesque heads jerking unnaturally as they locked onto my own. The air was thick with malice, and their low, guttural growls grew into a collective roar.

  “Come at me.” – I commanded, my voice cold and steady despite the storm raging in my chest.

  The words seemed to ignite something deep within them — a primal, collective instinct that spurred them into motion. They surged toward me as one, a frenzied horde of monstrous forms with no strategy, no coordination, only an overwhelming desire to destroy.

  They weren’t human anymore. Whatever spark of humanity had once existed within them was gone, erased by the horrific transformation wrought by my father’s experiment. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to accept the truth: there was no salvation for them. No redemption.

  And that’s why I didn’t hold back.

  “Starfire Dance.”

  The words left my lips like a whisper of resolve, their power rippling through the air. This was no ordinary battle technique — it was an art form, a symphony of destruction I had learned long ago and honed through relentless discipline. It wasn’t about brute force or sheer power; the essence of the dance lay in its fluidity, its refusal to yield to stillness. To master it, one had to become the fire itself — unceasing, untamed, and beautiful.

  My twin rapiers ignited with blazing energy, their flames licking hungrily at the air. Their tips glowed white-hot, like miniature stars burning against the encroaching darkness. I stepped forward, my movements deliberate yet weightless, each step a note in an unseen melody that played in the depths of my mind. The rhythm of combat coursed through my veins, propelling me forward into the fray.

  The first ghoul lunged at me, its grotesque, clawed hands reaching out with great speed. But it might as well have been moving in slow motion. I sidestepped, my flaming blade arcing upward in a fluid slash that carved through its torso like a brushstroke on a canvas.

  I spun, using the momentum to propel myself toward the next wave of monstrosities. Their hollow, blackened eyes glared at me, filled with rage and hunger. Yet, they hesitated — a flicker of fear breaking through their primal fury as the arcs of fire left trails of molten light in the air around me.

  In the theater of the battlefield, I was both dancer and conductor. The tempo quickened as I moved, my blades weaving an intricate pattern of destruction. Each strike was a step, every dodge a pirouette. The flames trailed behind me like a living entity, forming a blazing cyclone that engulfed the ghouls in its fury.

  I leapt into the air, the searing heat from my rapiers illuminating the chaos below. As I descended, my blades crossed in an X-shaped strike, unleashing a burst of fire that radiated outward in a brilliant explosion.

  In less than ten seconds, it was over.

  I landed gracefully at the entrance, my rapiers’ flames extinguishing with a soft hiss. The world around me fell silent, save for the faint crackling of dying embers. I stood there, my back to the destruction I had wrought, my breathing steady despite the inferno that had raged mere moments ago.

  Without looking back, I whispered the final words of my spell, my voice steady and laced with quiet reverence:

  “Demons born from humanity’s evil, may you find peace in eternal slumber.”

  The words carried through the still air, soft yet resolute, like the final note of a requiem. As they left my gentle lips, a wave of fire surged across the battlefield, igniting the monsters in a synchronized eruption of flame. Their twisted forms were consumed instantly, the inferno burning away every trace of their corrupted existence.

  For a fleeting moment, amidst the fiery destruction, there was a haunting beauty in their end. A brief, bittersweet glimpse of art born from chaos. The monsters, in their final moments, transcended their nature. They became something more: a masterpiece etched in ash, their forms disintegrating into the void, never to return. And yet, the beauty of that moment was a cruel mockery, a reminder of the cost of survival.

  For the first time since that day, people have died because of me. Again.

  I sat motionless, my legs trembling beneath me, as the screams of scientists and soldiers echoed in my ears, their voices drowned out by the monstrous roars that had swallowed them whole. My hands trembled, stained with blood and dust, as I stared blankly at the aftermath. The air was heavy with the scent of charred flesh and burned metal, a suffocating reminder of my failure.

  This is all my fault.

  No. A voice whispered in the back of my mind, sharp and cold. It is not your fault.

  It is his fault.

  “It is your fault.”

  My voice cut through the oppressive silence like a blade, and my rapier followed suit, its gleaming tip now poised against the throat of the man I had once called my father. My hands were steady, fueled by a righteous fury that burned hotter than the flames I had conjured earlier.

  “How dare you experiment with their lives?!” – I demanded, my voice breaking as it climbed higher with rage.

  His gaze was calm, almost indifferent, as though he were a spectator to his own demise. His tone was devoid of emotion, cold and matter-of-fact. – “If you kill me, the barrier will fall.”

  Those words alone should have been enough to give me pause. And yet, they only fueled my anger. Here he stood, a man who had promised to protect humanity, revealing himself to be the architect of so much pain. His life, his death, they didn’t matter to him. All he cared about was his goal, his obsession with saving humanity, no matter the cost.

  “I swear.” – I hissed through gritted teeth, my crimson eyes blazing as they bore into his. – “if you sacrifice another civilian for your ambition, I will rip your legs and arms from your body. Piece by piece.”

  It wasn’t an empty threat. He was not my father, not anymore. He never was in the first place.

  “I didn’t force any of them.” – He said quietly, his voice echoing through the barren, dust-filled room. – “They all accepted the risks. They knew the price of failure.”

  “You’re supposed to be their guardian!” – My scream reverberated off the walls, raw and visceral, each word trembling with the weight of my anguish. – “You should know better! Why? Why would you do this? You already have the military, you have Sapphire, you have me! We’ve protected humanity for years, and no one has been hurt since that day!”

  He remained silent for a moment, his face betraying no emotion, and then he spoke, his words slow and deliberate, heavy with despair. – “Ever since the world ended, I have searched for answers. But the more I searched, the less I found. When I first discovered my powers, I hoped. No, I believed that there were others like me. Other stars, scattered across this dying world. But I found nothing. No one. Only you. And Sapphire found you.”

  His gaze darkened, the weight of years of hopelessness bearing down on his shoulders. – “Even after all this time, I haven’t been able to locate another. And the beasts… the beasts grow stronger with each passing year. Do you truly believe you will be able to defeat them all? Forever?”

  I faltered. For just a moment, the certainty in my voice wavered.

  “I don’t know.” – I admitted quietly, the fire in my tone dimming. – “I don’t know if I can. But I will fight until this life ends. No matter what they throw at me, I will keep going.”

  “It has already ended.” – He said, his voice hollow, his words echoing ominously through the room.

  “What are you talking about?” – My heart began to pound, a chill creeping into my veins.

  “You’ve already died during the goblin incident, don’t you remember?”

  The words struck like a hammer. I stared at him, uncomprehending.

  “No.” – I said firmly, shaking my head. “That’s not true. I was gravely injured, but you healed me. Right?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t place: pity, regret, or something darker.

  “No.” – He finally declared. – “That was a lie. You died that day. Your brainwaves flatlined. Your heartbeat stopped. You were gone from this world.”

  “Then how am I standing here?” – My voice rose, trembling with disbelief.

  “You’ve died fifty-four times.” – He continued, his tone eerily calm, as though recounting a fact rather than a revelation. – “Every time, I thought it would be the end. But each time, you opened your eyes. Your wounds, no matter how severe, healed as though they had never existed. Your arms, your legs, your organs, even when you were nothing more than a mangled mess of blood and flesh… you came back. Every single time.”

  I took a step back, my rapier lowering slightly as his words sank in.

  “No.” – I whispered, shaking my head. – “That’s impossible.”

  “It’s not.” – He said, his voice tinged with something I couldn’t place, was it guilt? – “And do you know how I got so much of your blood? It wasn’t from the monthly check-ups, but from the times you died. As your body healed, I drained your blood. Gallons of it. Infinite blood. It replenished itself faster than I could take it. That’s why Sapphire’s blood was never an option.”

  The room seemed to close in around me. My grip on the rapier tightened, my hands trembling as the full weight of his confession bore down on me.

  “So, you experimented on me.” – I said, my voice low and dangerous, trembling with a rage I could barely contain. – “You used me like a lab rat. And I thought you were my father.”

  I raised the blade again, its point trembling as it hovered inches from his throat.

  “You’re no father. You’re a monster.”

  As my eyes locked onto him, consumed by the fury and betrayal swirling in my mind, a sudden weight crashed onto my shoulder from above. Sharp teeth sank deep into my flesh before I could even react, the pain searing and immediate. My instincts roared to life, and with a burst of adrenaline, I grabbed the creature and hurled it away. It hit the wall with a sickening thud, its distorted form crumpling to the ground.

  A burning ache spread from the wound, and I looked down to see blood staining my clothes. The sight sent a jolt of fear through me — fear not for the pain, but for what might follow.

  “No…” – Sirius’s voice broke the silence, sharp with panic. In an instant, he was at my side, his crimson eyes wide with worry as they scanned the injury. – “What if the blood infects you too?” – His hands hovered near my shoulder, hesitant to touch the wound.

  “It is not…” – He stopped, his voice trembling with relief as his gaze softened. – “Thank God.”

  The infection: it was there. I could feel it. A dark, invasive force slithering through my veins, probing, searching for a way to seize control. For a terrifying moment, I thought it would consume me, just as it had so many others.

  But then, it stopped.

  The force recoiled, as though recognizing something it couldn’t conquer. I could feel it hesitate, almost as if it realized it had once belonged to me. It wasn’t just my immune system fighting back: it was something deeper, something intrinsic to who I was. The infection faltered, and in the next instant, my body’s defenses obliterated it entirely, burning it away like a fleeting shadow under the noonday sun.

  I staggered to my feet, ignoring Sirius’s protests to rest. – “I’m fine.” – I said sharply, though the lingering pain in my shoulder told a different story. I couldn’t afford to stop now.

  My eyes scanned the room, searching for the creature that had attacked me. The others had been reduced to ash or crushed beneath the weight of my flames, but one ghoul had evaded destruction. It had hidden in the shadows, biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

  And now, it had another chance.

  The air grew heavy as I felt its presence, a dark energy radiating from the far corner of the room. My flames sparked to life in my palm, flickering and eager to finish what they had started. I turned slowly, prepared to incinerate whatever monstrosity dared to lurk in the shadows.

  But then I hesitated.

  It… Him?

  There, crouched in the corner, was no ghoul. Not a twisted, rotting creature of nightmares, but a black-haired teenager. His sharp features were illuminated by the faint glow of my fire, revealing a face that was undeniably human. He stared at me with wide, confused eyes, his expression a mix of fear and bewilderment.

  My flames wavered, their light casting uneven shadows across the room. I could feel Sirius’s presence behind me, his footsteps halting as he noticed the figure as well.

  “Who… are you?” – I asked, my voice low but steady, though my hand remained outstretched, the flickering fire still ready to strike.

  The blue-eyed human didn’t respond immediately. His gaze darted between me and Sirius, as if trying to make sense of the situation. Slowly, he raised his hands, palms open in a gesture of surrender.

  2011-10-18

  I didn’t need to eat. My body functioned perfectly without food or water, a fact that Sirius often reminded me of with his stoic pragmatism. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it. There was something deeply satisfying about indulging in flavors and textures, a small pleasure in an otherwise chaotic existence. My favorite, without question, was strawberry ice cream.

  It wasn’t just the taste, it was the simplicity, the way it melted on my tongue, cool and sweet, a perfect counterpoint to the heat of my flames. It became something of a ritual for me: a treat to celebrate my victories, no matter how small. And today, I found myself sitting on a plaza bench with a cone of vanilla ice cream in hand, watching the world move around me.

  Next to me, Chris stirred, his head lolling slightly before his eyes fluttered open. He looked disoriented, his gaze shifting to the sky before settling on me.

  “Where am I?” – He asked groggily, his voice hoarse.

  I smirked, licking the edge of my ice cream as I glanced at him. – “You fainted.” – I said casually, my tone light. – “Probably because of your massive dumbness.”

  It was a lie, of course. But I wasn’t about to admit that, not when my own cheeks still hadn’t fully cooled from the blush that had crept in earlier.

  Chris groaned, sitting up straighter as he rubbed the back of his neck. He still looked pale, his black hair disheveled and his expression clouded with confusion. To think that the boy now sitting beside me, looking every bit like a normal teenager, was the result of a twisted experiment using my own blood.

  Chris truly was lucky.

  After the ghoul bit me, it wasn’t its blood that had tried to corrupt me. it was my own blood that had done something extraordinary. Somehow, my blood had fought back, not only purging the infection but transforming the ghoul itself. The creature had reverted, its monstrous form collapsing, leaving behind him.

  Ever since that day, Chris had been tethered to me in a way neither of us could escape. To keep his humanity, to stave off the madness that clawed at the edges of his mind, he needed to drink a vial of my blood every single day. Without it, he would lose himself, consumed by the remnants of the infection that still lingered in his veins.

  I tried not to think about it too much, but the guilt gnawed at me like a relentless shadow. If my blood had the power to save Chris, then perhaps… perhaps it could have saved the others, too. The ones who had been lost to the infection, twisted beyond recognition. If only I had known sooner, if only I had acted faster. But it was too late now.

  The experiment had produced a single success. Chris was the lone survivor, the only one who had been able to endure the transformation. My blood had granted him a fraction of my strength and even a trace of my healing factor.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  Chris’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, his brows furrowing as he caught the way I had been studying him. His sharp tone didn’t fully mask the curiosity beneath it, though his expression was tinged with mild annoyance.

  “Like what?” – I asked, feigning ignorance as I turned my attention back to my ice cream, the perfect distraction.

  “Like you’re trying to figure out if I’m about to sprout claws or something.” – His words dripped with sarcasm, though the faint edge in his voice betrayed a lingering unease.

  I chuckled softly, shaking my head. – “Don’t flatter yourself. If I wanted to, I could knock you out again without breaking a sweat.”

  He rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed, but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back on the bench, his blue gaze drifting toward the bustling plaza. Around us, the lively sounds of the city filled the air: chatter, laughter, the rhythmic clatter of footsteps against the cobblestones. It was a stark contrast to the chaos we had faced together long ago.

  For a moment, neither of us spoke, the quiet stretching between us like a fragile thread. Then, breaking the silence, Chris asked: “Primeira, if you could go anywhere you wanted today, where would it be?”

  I glanced at him, surprised by the question. His tone was softer now, almost wistful, as he gazed toward the horizon.

  “I don’t know.” – I replied after a moment, letting my gaze follow his. – “Maybe a place where a lot of people are smiling.”

  Chris nodded thoughtfully, his lips quirking into a small smile. – “I see. Today would be a great day to go to a beach!”

  “A beach?” – I raised an eyebrow, amused. – “Really? Don’t tell me you surf.”

  “I actually do!” – He said, his voice brightening with enthusiasm. – “What if we just skip the training and go straight there?”

  I took another bite of my ice cream, savoring the sweetness as I considered his suggestion. – “The beach, huh. How is it there?”

  His head tilted slightly, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. – “What do you mean? You’ve never been to the beach?”

  I shook my head, and his jaw dropped in exaggerated disbelief.

  “WHAT?!” – He exclaimed, leaping to his feet as if the sheer idea of someone missing out on a beach trip was a personal offense. – “WHY?! We need to go now!”

  His childlike enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Despite his confident demeanor and the burden of his circumstances, moments like this revealed a side of him that felt far younger than his years.

  “I’ve never had the time.” – I admitted, the humor fading slightly as I thought about it. – “And honestly… I think I’d dislike it.”

  “Why?!” – He demanded, flopping back down onto the bench with the dramatic air of someone determined to prove me wrong.

  “You know, I’m a literal embodiment of fire.” – I said, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. – “Water is basically my arch-nemesis. We don’t exactly get along.”

  He snorted. – “You know that humans are literally made out of water, right?”

  I raised a hand, motioning for him to let me finish. – “It’s not just that. Water… it’s always brought bad memories for me. Every time it appears in my life, it feels like it’s there to bring despair.”

  From the rain of that fateful battle, when droplets fell like the heavens themselves were mourning the blood-soaked ground. To the haunting words that were said in that memoir. From the moment I plunged into that lake the water’s cold embrace threatening to steal the breath from my lungs, to the sterile, sickly gleam of the liquid in the lab tanks, the substance that suspended those humans as if mocking their suffering.

  Chris’s expression softened, the teasing light in his eyes dimming. He shifted uncomfortably, as though the weight of my confession unsettled him. – “Then.” – He said slowly. – “You need to go to the beach with me. I swear, you’ll love it. I’ll make sure of it.”

  I smiled at his earnestness, but the idea still felt far away, like a dream I wasn’t ready to chase. – “Another day.” – I said, standing up and brushing the crumbs of ice cream cone from my hands. – “Today, we have somewhere else to be.”

  “Where?” – He asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “From the people Sirius sought to bring into his ranks, two individuals stood out, rising above the rest. They were geniuses, almost equals to Sirius himself, though their brilliance shone in vastly different ways. One of them was a figure shrouded in mystery, known only as "the blacksmith” to the rest of the world. But to those who knew him he was a living legend.

  Sirius had discovered him during one of his travels, a stroke of fate that seemed almost too extraordinary to be chance. While scouting near an active volcano, he felt a presence, a strange, unyielding force that defied the hostile, molten landscape. Drawn closer by curiosity and instinct, he stumbled upon a sight that even he could scarcely believe.

  There, amid rivers of glowing magma and the searing heat of the earth’s core, stood a man. His figure was framed by the flickering orange light, a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips, with more tucked into his pockets like talismans. His eyes burned with a quiet intensity, focused entirely on the anvil before him. With an ease that belied the danger of his surroundings, he worked the molten metal, shaping it with practiced precision. The magma wasn’t just an obstacle; it was his ally, fueling his forge in a symbiotic dance of fire and craft.

  This man had not only survived the apocalyptic end of the world but had thrived in its ashes. While humanity withered and electricity stopped working, he carried on, undeterred. Technology’s collapse was a calamity for most, but to the blacksmith, who had never relied on it in the first place, it was barely an inconvenience. He lived by his own means, and in his solitude, he forged weapons of unparalleled craftsmanship.

  The beasts, relentless and deadly as they were, had not spared him either. Yet, he stood unbroken, fending off their assaults with weapons he had built with his own hands. Alone in the fiery wasteland, he became a quiet force of nature, cutting down his foes with steel and fire. It was only a matter of time before Sirius brought him to Sirius City, recognizing the invaluable skill and indomitable spirit this man possessed.

  There was a poetic irony in the blacksmith’s craft. Beasts from mythology were always slain by heroes wielding steel weapons, never modern weaponry. The old ways carried a certain power, an enduring truth that even the apocalypse couldn’t erase. For me, this meant that while my flames could not infuse a firearm, they could merge seamlessly with a sword or an axe. It was a connection I could feel deep within my soul, as if the steel called to my fire and gave it form.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Sapphire’s rapiers, elegant as they were, came with caveats. She had crafted them with precision, but they were tethered to her will. She could summon or dismiss them at a whim. As much as I respected Sapphire, I needed something more, something I could call my own.

  So, when the blacksmith joined STR, I knew what I had to ask.

  He listened quietly as I explained my frustrations and aspirations. His expression remained unreadable, though his sharp eyes seemed to see straight through me, weighing my words with a craftsman’s scrutiny. When I finished, he gave a small nod, the barest acknowledgment, before turning back to his forge.

  What he created for me was beyond anything I could have imagined.

  The rapiers were masterpieces, each one a blend of lethal elegance and raw power. Their blades gleamed with a silvery sheen, etched with intricate patterns that seemed to dance in the firelight. When I held one for the first time, it felt alive in my hand, as though it had been waiting for me. The balance was perfect, the grip a seamless extension of my own movements. But what truly set them apart was their harmony with my flames.

  The blacksmith had crafted them to resonate with my power, to draw from the fire within me without resistance or hesitation. When I channeled my flames into the blade, they didn’t merely coat the steel, they became one with it. The fire flowed like liquid, licking along the edges of the rapier, pulsing with an intensity that matched my heartbeat.

  “To what dishonor do I owe the presence of children disturbing my work?” – The man’s voice rang out, gruff and sharp, cutting through the humid air of the forge. He didn’t even glance up from the glowing crucible in front of him as we stepped inside. The forge was in a cavernous underground passage, close enough to the city’s barrier that I could almost feel its hum, an invisible pulse of energy encircling Sirius City like a protective cocoon. The heat from the forge was oppressive, intensified by the roaring fires and molten metal that surrounded us.

  It was an astonishing design. To think they had the ingenuity and audacity to use the raw power of Sirius’s magic as a fuel source to smelt metals. That energy, the very lifeblood of the city’s barrier, was being harnessed here in a way I’d never imagined possible.

  For a moment, I simply stood there, awestruck by the scale and complexity of the place. The walls of the forge were lined with magma, channeling streams of energy into the various smelting vats and furnaces. Sparks flew like tiny fireflies, dancing in the air before vanishing into the shadows. The sound was a relentless cacophony of hammers striking anvils, bellows hissing, and the low, rhythmic hum of magical conduits working in tandem.

  I shifted uncomfortably, feeling out of place in this world of molten metal and raw power. Just months ago, I’d lived like an ordinary human being, my biggest concerns limited to the mundane struggles of daily life. I wasn’t one to watch the news, let alone pay attention to the animated series depicting magical girls. Back then, the idea of magic had been something abstract, entertaining in theory but far removed from reality.

  Now, standing in this forge, the reality of it all was impossible to ignore. The raw power fueling this forge wasn’t just theoretical energy, it was true heat, channeled and controlled to maintain the fragile balance that kept humanity alive within the barrier.

  “Vulkancore, we’ve come to get a weapon for him.”

  Arstria’s voice rang out, slicing through the forge’s chaotic symphony of clanging metal, hissing steam, and crackling flames. It was a tone that didn’t waver, commanding attention with an authority that felt uncanny in someone so young. Yet, it wasn’t her age or stature that mattered in this moment, it was the weight behind her words. They carried conviction, a confidence that seemed to ripple through the oppressive heat of the forge.

  The words seemed to rouse the blacksmith from his focused trance. He moved slowly at first, his broad shoulders shifting under the heavy fabric of his soot-stained apron. His posture spoke of a man deeply entrenched in his craft, each movement deliberate and methodical, as though he had no patience for anything, or anyone, who disrupted his work without cause.

  Finally, he turned toward us, and his gaze landed on me. I couldn’t help but stiffen under the intensity of his scrutiny. His eyes were sharp and discerning, a pale shade that stood out against his weathered, soot-darkened face. The look he gave me was equal parts annoyance and curiosity, as though he were sizing me up, trying to determine if I was worth the interruption.

  Above those piercing eyes, a pair of sunglasses perched on his forehead, holding back his long, disheveled hair. It was an odd sight, the sleek, modern frames clashing with the ancient, almost otherworldly ambiance of the forge. For a moment, I wondered why he’d bother with something so seemingly out of place. Was it to shield his eyes from the glaring heat of the flames? That would make sense, but as I observed the way the sunglasses barely seemed to budge despite the sweat glistening on his skin, it became clear they had another purpose entirely, to keep his unruly hair from falling into the molten lava and flames around him.

  It was a strangely practical choice for such an extraordinary man. The juxtaposition of sleek, modern convenience against the ancient, almost mythical craft surrounding him only deepened the air of mystery about him. Everything about the blacksmith seemed to defy easy categorization. The forge itself mirrored this duality, raw, intense, and undeniably functional, yet adorned with subtle, almost accidental touches of individuality. A mismatched set of tools hung meticulously on one wall, their placements precise but unorthodox. Scattered among the glowing furnaces were trinkets of no obvious utility: a clockwork eagle perched on a shelf, a polished horse etched with intricate designs, and a well-worn book resting precariously on a ledge above the flames.

  And then there was the smoke.

  He didn’t stop smoking for a second, as if the act were as integral to his being as the flames that surrounded him. The cigarette, clenched between his teeth, seemed to move with him like an extension of his own body. Thin wisps of smoke curled upward, mingling with the haze of the forge in a way that made it hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

  He moved toward a heavy, iron-bound chest tucked into the far corner of the forge, its presence almost obscured by the clutter of tools, machinery, and scattered fragments of half-finished creations.

  With deliberate precision, he reached for the key hanging from his belt, its polished surface catching the faint glow of the forge. It was a simple key, unassuming and practical, yet it felt imbued with significance in his hands. The way he handled it, deftly but with care, made it clear that whatever lay inside the chest was something of great value.

  The lock clicked open with a satisfying snap, and he lifted the lid. The hinges groaned faintly, as though reluctant to reveal what had been hidden within. I leaned forward instinctively, curiosity overriding the oppressive heat of the forge, and when my eyes fell upon the contents, I froze.

  Inside the chest, nestled against white cloth, were two weapons unlike anything I had ever seen before. They radiated an otherworldly energy that seemed to hum faintly in the stillness of the moment. Despite their small size, the weapons exuded an undeniable presence, as if they were alive, waiting for someone worthy to claim them.

  Both weapons shared the same basic design a small, curved blade, no longer than a pocketknife, attached seamlessly to a smooth, spherical orb. The craftsmanship was breathtaking. The blade’s edge gleamed with a preternatural sharpness, the light playing across its surface in hypnotic waves, while the orb seemed to pulse faintly, as though it held a heartbeat of its own.

  The one on the right immediately caught my eye. Its blade shimmered with a soft cyan hue, cool and ethereal, like the glow of moonlight reflecting off water. The orb it connected to was a pristine white, its surface smooth and flawless, yet its depths seemed to swirl with hidden power, like a storm trapped within.

  Beside it sat its twin, an inverse reflection of the first. This one had a white blade, almost blinding in its purity, as if it had been forged from light itself. The cyan orb it was attached to appeared colder, its glow sharper and more focused, reminiscent of the frigid clarity of an arctic sky.

  I stared at the weapons in stunned silence, my mind grappling with the sheer beauty and strangeness of them. They were unlike anything I had ever seen, not swords, not knives, not any weapon that fit the molds I understood. Instead, they felt like relics of a forgotten age, imbued with a purpose far beyond mere combat.

  Vulkancore’s voice broke the spell, his tone low and steady. – “This is undoubtedly the greatest work I’ve ever done.” – He said, his words laced with reverence. – “A weapon so rare as it is powerful, and so dangerous as it is beautiful.”

  I glanced at Arstria, who stood beside me, her crimson eyes fixed on the weapons with an intensity that mirrored my own awe. She didn’t say anything, but the slight nod she gave me was enough to convey what she was thinking.

  Vulkancore didn’t wait for any further indication. With the same precision and care he brought to his craft, he grabbed the daggers with a pair of long, heavy tongs. The metal jaws clamped around the weapons as though they were something too volatile, too dangerous, to be touched by human hands. Even through the haze of the forge, I could see the faint, swirling energy emanating from the orbs, rippling in the air like waves on a freezing desert horizon.

  “These weapons aren’t chosen by warriors.” – He said, his deep voice laced with solemnity. – “They are alive in their own way. They decide. They will test you to see if you are worthy of wielding them.”

  There was something in his tone, a reverence that bordered on fear. It wasn’t just respect for the weapons but for the power and will they embodied. I couldn’t fully fathom the depth of it, but his words sent a shiver down my spine nonetheless.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened my hands and held them out, palms up, ready to receive them. My fingers trembled slightly, though whether it was from fear or anticipation, I couldn’t say.

  Vulkancore moved with deliberate slowness, lowering the daggers toward me as if the act itself was a ritual. The moment they made contact with my skin, I felt it, an overwhelming, searing cold that raced through my hands like shards of ice stabbing into every nerve.

  I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as pain erupted, sharp and unrelenting. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before, a sensation that went beyond the physical. My body screamed at me to let go, to release the daggers and end the agony, but I couldn’t. Something deeper, something primal, urged me to hold on, no matter the cost.

  The world around me began to blur, the forge fading into darkness. And then, I saw it.

  The depths of the earth, beyond the fire and molten core, stretching into an abyss that defied comprehension. It was as though I were falling endlessly, pulled deeper and deeper into the heart of existence itself. And there, in the void, I saw it.

  A colossal being with wings that covered the entirety of the sky, each scale shimmering with an otherworldly light.

  And in its eyes, I saw the end.

  The collapse of stars, the unraveling of time, the very fabric of the universe tearing apart. It was a vision of destruction so profound it left me breathless, my soul trembling under its weight.

  Pain brought me back. My hands, no, my veins, were bursting. The vessels in my palms swelled and ruptured, sending rivulets of blood coursing down my arms. My grip faltered, but I held on, refusing to yield even as my strength waned.

  “I knew it.”

  The words pierced through the haze, sharp and decisive. Before I could fully process what was happening, Arstria slapped my hands with surprising force. The daggers slipped from my grasp, clattering to the ground with a metallic thud.

  The instant they left my skin, the pain ceased, leaving behind only a cold emptiness. I staggered back, clutching my hands, which were now slick with blood. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my body still trembling from the ordeal.

  “Don’t get too upset over it.” – Arstria said, her tone casual, almost teasing, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. – “He tried to give me those awful weapons too, and I didn’t want them either. They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

  Her words caught me off guard, pulling me out of my daze. – “You weren’t chosen either?” – I managed to ask, my voice hoarse.

  Vulkancore didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crouched to pick up the daggers with the tongs, handling them with the same caution as before. – “Not even I was.” – He said finally, his tone neutral but weighted. – “But if you plan on living a long life, it is good they have rejected you.”

  With that, he placed them back into the chest, their faint glow diminishing as they returned to the velvet-lined interior. He closed the lid with a heavy thud and locked it with a twist of the key, as if sealing away something that should never have been unleashed.

  Arstria placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch light but grounding. – “Come on.” – She said, her voice softer now. “Let’s find you something better. Something that won’t try to kill you the moment you pick it up.”

  Vulkancore then presented me with many different weapons, but the one that caught my attention the most was a golden sword. A weapon strikingly ornate with intricated details and a sense of power and mystique.

  The blade had a unique, asymmetrical design, starting with a curved and sharp-edged profile that tapers into a fine point. An almost ethereal glow running along its edges. The blade’s surface features a golden aesthetic. A curved cutout near the base adds to the weapon's exotic design, not just functional but also highly ornamental. Fine engravings and patterns near the base enhance its elegance, with details resembling celestial or arcane symbols.

  The guard is intricately crafted, shaped like a golden phoenix or dragon, with detailed feathers or scales accentuating the hilt. Gold dominates the guard, with an antique, polished finish that exudes royalty. The handle is wrapped with what appears to be braided golden material, providing both grip and visual richness. The pommel of the handle tapers into a spiked point, echoing the weapon's lethal elegance.

  The moment I laid eyes on the sword, an inexplicable connection surged through me, as though the weapon itself was part of me. I reached out instantly, my fingers grasping the handle. The material fit perfectly into my palm, as if it had been crafted for me alone.

  I raised the sword, the golden edge catching the ambient light and refracting it into radiant, fiery hues. The weight was perfect, substantial yet balanced.

  “Can I really have it?”

  Arstria had tried to teach me the basics of swordsmanship once. She had demonstrated the moves with enthusiasm, but her instructions left much to be desired.

  “Keep your body lower, steady your stance, and swing the blade with both hands.” – She’d said confidently, mimicking the motions herself.

  “Then you need to swoosh and then slice, defeating the enemy!” – Arstria declared with a flourish, her voice filled with the kind of confidence that made her instructions sound simple.

  To her credit, Arstria made it look easy. Her movements were fluid, almost dance-like, each step seamlessly blending into the next. She wielded her training blade with an elegance that was mesmerizing to watch, the arcs of fire trailing behind her sword giving the impression of a star painting the air itself. It was dazzling.

  And completely unattainable for someone like me.

  Her fighting style relied heavily on two things: incredible flexibility and explosive bursts of fire to propel her forward. Both were skills I was woefully incapable of replicating. I could barely swing the sword without tripping over my own feet, let alone leap across the battlefield in a blaze of glory.

  And then there was the matter of her theatrics.

  Every attack she demonstrated ended with her striking a dramatic pose, one hand on her hip, her sword angled just so, as though she were waiting for an unseen audience to erupt into applause. It was as if she expected cameras to capture her every move, as though the spectacle of the fight was just as important, if not more so, than its outcome.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” – Arstria asked, tilting her head.

  Her crimson eyes blinked at me, and for a moment, she seemed genuinely puzzled. – “The pose? Of course, it does! It’s the punctuation mark of the attack, the exclamation point! Without it, how would anyone know you’ve won?”

  I opened my mouth to argue but quickly shut it again. There was no point. Arstria had her own logic, and trying to unravel it was a battle I wasn’t equipped to fight.

  Instead, I focused on trying to replicate her moves, albeit without the flames or the flair. I bent my knees, gripped the sword with both hands, and swung as she’d shown me, only to feel a sharp twinge in my lower back as I overextended.

  Arstria clapped her hands together, her expression a mix of encouragement and exasperation. – “Almost! You need to loosen up more. Think of your body like a ribbon in the wind!”

  Still, there was something undeniably captivating about watching her in action. Even if I couldn’t replicate her style, I could admire the artistry behind it, the way her flames seemed to breathe with her, the way her blade moved as if it were an extension of her will.

  But as she struck another triumphant pose, her sword gleaming and her hair catching the light, I couldn’t help but shake my head. She’s definitely more performer than soldier, I thought, biting back a grin.

  Maybe in a different world — one where humanity never fell — she could dance just for her own sake, because that smile is something more valuable than all the lives she saved.

  Needless to say, Arstria wasn’t exactly the most skilled instructor. She meant well, of course, but her teaching method left me more confused than equipped to wield a blade effectively. After watching me fumble through a few pathetic attempts, she eventually sighed and called for backup.

  “Sapphire, you take over.” – She announced, waving over to the Second Star.

  The moment Sapphire approached, I felt the temperature in the room metaphorically drop. Her piercing blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach churn. There was a sharpness in her gaze, a silent promise that this wasn’t going to be just another casual training session.

  “You’re holding the sword like a toddler clutches a spoon.” – Sapphire remarked flatly, her tone devoid of any warmth. She stepped closer, and I instinctively gripped the blade tighter, my palms growing slick with sweat.

  She circled me like a predator stalking its prey, her movements precise and deliberate. – “If you’re going to survive, you’ll need to do better than that. Much better.”

  What followed was less a lesson and more of a trial by steel. Sapphire’s idea of training seemed to involve attacking me with relentless ferocity, forcing me to block, dodge, and parry for my life. She swung her weapon with a grace and precision that only highlighted my clumsiness, her strikes coming so fast and sharp that I was convinced she was trying to kill me.

  “Trying isn’t good enough.” – She snapped, following up with a thrust that I barely managed to deflect. – “The beasts won’t give you second chances, and neither will I.”

  Her words were harsh, but her actions were harsher. Every strike she landed, not on me, thankfully, but on my weapon, sent vibrations up my arms, leaving my muscles screaming in protest. My attempts to fight back felt laughable in comparison, each swing of my blade slower and sloppier than the last.

  Was I really five years older than these two? How could these children be that strong?!

  At one point, I tripped over my own feet and landed flat on my back, my sword clattering to the ground beside me. Sapphire loomed over me, her weapon poised as though she was debating whether to finish me off right then and there.

  “You’re hopeless.” – Sapphire muttered, shaking her head with a mixture of disdain and disappointment.

  Her words stung, but I barely had time to process them before she launched another spear directly at me. My instincts screamed at me to move, but my body refused to cooperate. I stood frozen, staring in horror as the weapon sliced through the air.

  But then, like a blur of fire, Arstria grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me out of harm’s way. The spear missed me by mere inches, embedding itself into the wall with a dull thunk that echoed in the training hall.

  “Close.” – Sapphire remarked, her tone laced with disappointment as she stepped forward, another spear already materializing in her hand. She twirled it lazily, as if the whole thing were a game to her.

  “Stop, stop, stop!” – Arstria screamed out, sharp and commanding. Stepping in front of the spear. – “What are you even trying to do?”

  Sapphire tilted her head slightly as the spear vanished, her expression of mild amusement. – “If he survives, he’ll become strong. If not, that’s one less useless human in the world.”

  Her tone was so matter of fact, so utterly devoid of empathy, that I found myself staring at her in stunned disbelief. It wasn’t the first time she’d said something so cold, but it still hit me like a slap to the face.

  I barely heard their argument, too focused on the fact that Sapphire’s eyes occasionally darted toward me, calculating and predatory. She wasn’t just teaching me; she was testing me. And I had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep if I failed.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out why Sapphire was acting this way. Ever since I’d met her, there was something unsettlingly single-minded about her. If you cracked open her head and examined her brain, I was convinced you’d find every synapse screaming one thing: Arstria, Arstria, Arstria.

  The Second Star was, without question, completely insane.

  Her entire existence seemed to revolve around Arstria. Sapphire wasn’t just loyal, she was obsessed. Every word, every action, every decision she made seemed calibrated to serve or protect her. It was like watching a zealot in action, and it was equal parts fascinating and terrifying.

  I’d already noticed how annoyed she’d been the past week while Arstria was training me. She didn’t even try to hide it, her icy glares and passive-aggressive remarks a constant reminder that I was, in her eyes, taking up Arstria’s precious time. But this? Trying to spear me during training? That went beyond jealousy. This was full-blown possessiveness, the kind you’d expect from a sibling who’d taken the concept of envy to dangerous extremes.

  It was unbelievable, really. The relationship between Arstria and Sapphire was akin to being sisters, yet Sapphire treated it with a fervor that bordered on unhealthy.

  And then there was the whole master-servant dynamic they had going on. I still didn’t understand it. Sapphire called Arstria “Master” with the kind of devotion that made me uncomfortable, and while Arstria always insisted they were equals, Sapphire clearly didn’t agree.

  Am I even in the right place among the stars? I wondered, glancing down at the sword in my hand. What was I doing here, stuck between Arstria’s fiery determination and Sapphire’s steely madness? Was this some cosmic joke, or had the universe genuinely decided to test how much nonsense I could endure before snapping?

  “If I can’t train him.” – Arstria thought out loud, her voice filled with hesitation. – “and if you can’t either… Then there’s only one option left.”

  Sapphire’s eyebrows arched in surprise before her lips curled into a sly smile. – “Vian?” – She asked, her tone almost playful. – “I see. Her lessons are truly one of a kind.”

  I didn’t like the way she said that, like she already knew how this was going to end, and it amused her. Sapphire’s smile widened as she added – “That would also mean you’ll be spending far less time with him, Master.” – Her emphasis on the word Master dripped with satisfaction, as though the suggestion alone was a victory for her.

  Arstria crossed her arms, her gaze clouding with doubt. – “But she was only able to train you, Sapphire. I could never get into her methods. They’re…” – She hesitated, searching for the right word. – “Unconventional.”

  Sapphire shrugged, unconcerned. – “Unconventional doesn’t mean ineffective. If anything, it makes her the perfect candidate. If this one.” – She gestured lazily toward me. – “Can’t handle her training, then he doesn’t stand a chance against the beasts anyway.”

  The casual dismissal in her voice made my blood boil, but I bit my tongue. I wasn’t about to give Sapphire the satisfaction of a reaction.

  “There’s only one way to find out.” – I said, surprising even myself with the steadiness of my voice. Slowly, I got to my feet, gripping the sword tighter as I looked Arstria in the eye. My body ached from Sapphire’s brutal training, my mind reeling from the constant barrage of insults and doubts, but I refused to let it show.

  “I need to get stronger.” – I continued, my words firm. – “If I’m going to use this life of mine to help people, then I’ll take whatever chance I get.”

  2012-01-15

  Three Months Later

  After three grueling months of training under Vian’s unconventional and brutally effective methods, Arstria finally deemed me ready to accompany her on a beast eradication mission.

  The day had arrived, and despite the nerves gnawing at my stomach, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. – “I’m so hyped, bro.” – I said, grinning as I tightened my grip on the golden sword Vulkancore had given me. We were approaching the feather’s location.

  Arstria glanced at me, her expression hovering between amusement and exasperation. – “First of all, don’t call me ‘bro’.” – She said, adjusting my military outfit with a practiced efficiency that bordered on maternal.

  “Second.” – She continued, brushing her fingers through my hair to fix an unruly strand, - “Remember what we talked about: if the battle gets too hard, you hide. I’ll take care of the beast.” – Her tone was calm but firm, like a mother sending her child off to school for the first time.

  I laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood. – “And if you die, it’s no big deal because you’ll just get back up after a while, right?”

  Her face lit up with a grin, as though I’d just repeated a fact about the weather. – “Exactly!” – She chirped like a bird, clearly unfazed by how unsettling that sounded.

  But I couldn’t shake the eerie truth behind it. In the months leading up to this mission, I’d watched countless videos of Arstria’s battles. There was a stark difference between the way she fought before and after my experiment. Before, her movements had been cautious, calculated, a fighter keenly aware of her own mortality. Now, she charged into combat with reckless abandon, throwing herself into danger as if her life were a bargaining chip she was all too willing to spend.

  It wasn’t hard to figure out why. Discovering her immortality had fundamentally changed her approach. If sacrificing herself meant taking down a beast, or several, with her, she didn’t hesitate. The way she talked about it, dying was nothing more than an inconvenient pause in the fight.

  Still, hearing her confirm it so casually sent a chill down my spine. – “You realize how creepy that sounds, right?” – I muttered, adjusting the weight of my sword.

  Arstria tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. – “It’s just practical. If I know I can get back up, why wouldn’t I use that to my advantage? The beasts don’t stand a chance when I fight like that.”

  I sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. To her, it was just logic. To me, it was a reminder of how vastly different we were.

  As we reached the clearing where the feather had landed, the air grew heavier, the atmosphere tinged with an unnatural stillness. The feather glowed ominously in the center of the clearing, its gaseous-like form pulsing faintly as though alive.

  “So, this is how they look like in person. To think this is the culprit behind the end of humanity.” – I crouched down to look upon the object.

  It resembled the feather of a dove, pristine and elegant, yet it wasn’t made of any physical substance. It pulsed faintly, as if breathing in the quiet air, an ethereal creation more akin to a shimmer of light than solid matter. The truth of its nature, however, was far more ominous. This was no mere feather, it was a dormant rift in the dimensional fabric, a gateway to another world.

  Arstria stood beside me, her posture firm and commanding, though her crimson eyes betrayed the weight of her words. She began explaining, her tone carrying a mixture of gravity and patience.

  “Ever since the Grand Mana Meter was completed, we’ve finally been able to understand how the beasts infiltrate Sirius City’s barrier.” – She said, her gaze fixed on the feather. – “They don’t pass through the barrier itself. The beasts outside never manage to enter directly.”

  She paused, letting her words sink in, as though testing how much I had absorbed from her previous explanations. I nodded, recalling the many lessons she had drilled into me.

  “They use these feathers.” – I added, my voice steady despite the unease twisting in my stomach. – “For some reason, these rifts manifest inside the city. The beasts aren’t appearing out of nowhere, they come from another dimension entirely, and these feathers serve as their portals. The stronger the beast trying to cross, the longer it takes for the portal to fully manifest and allow them through.”

  Arstria gave a small, approving smile, her salmon-colored hair catching the faint glow of the feather. – “Exactly. And what do we do when we find one of these portals?” – Her question hung in the air, expectant.

  I didn’t hesitate. – “We don’t wait for them to pass through.” – I replied, my tone resolute. – “If we did, lives would be threatened. Instead, we invade their dimension first. We kill them there, closing the portal before they can step into our world.”

  “Good!” – She exclaimed, reaching up to pat my head. The gesture might have been reassuring if she weren’t so much shorter than me. As it was, the sight of her stretching upward in an almost comical attempt at encouragement coaxed a faint grin from my otherwise tense face.

  Then, without missing a beat, she reached to her belt and retrieved a sleek, compact device. – “Activating portable drone.” – She announced.

  The small machine unfolded in her hands, its polished surface gleaming in the light. It took to the air with a soft hum, its high-definition cameras adjusting smoothly to capture every angle. It adjusted its trajectory with practiced ease, positioning it for maximum visibility.

  “This drone will record everything.” – She said, her voice now tinged with the efficiency of someone who had done this countless times. – “People need to see us in action. Their faith in us and in Sirius only grows when they witness our victories.”

  I glanced at the drone, its lenses glinting like watchful eyes. – “But only the victories.” – I noted, my voice quieter. – “The people never see the failures.”

  Arstria’s gaze flicked to mine, sharp and unyielding. – “Of course.” – She said, her tone leaving no room for debate. – “If they saw every misstep, every injury, every death… it would shatter their trust. Hope is fragile, and despair is our enemy’s strongest ally. We show them the moments of triumph, the proof that we can and will protect them. Nothing else matters.”

  I nodded, though her words didn’t completely ease the knot in my chest. I turned my attention back to the feather, its faint shimmer now pulsing with increasing intensity. The portal was close to awakening.

  “Time’s up.” – Arstria said briskly. She adjusted the gloves on her hands, her movements deliberate and steady. – “Are you ready?”

  I took a deep breath, steadying myself. – “Ready.”

  With a decisive nod, Arstria stepped closer to the feather, her figure framed by its eerie glow. The drone hovered above her, its lenses trained on the scene as she extended her hand toward the rift. A soft hum filled the air, growing louder as the feather’s energy responded to her touch.

  “Then let’s go.” – She said, her voice steady and calm.

  The air around us twisted and shimmered as the feather expanded, its translucent form unraveling into a swirling vortex. A low hum filled the space, resonating deep in my chest, as the rift grew larger, stretching into an unsteady gateway. Beyond the portal lay a chaotic realm of shadows and movement, its landscape shifting and contorting as though reality itself was fluid and unstable. The air buzzed with an unnatural energy, heavy with the scent of ozone and something burning. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum as I steeled myself for what lay ahead.

  With a final glance at Arstria, who stood calm and resolute beside me, I stepped forward. Crossing the threshold felt like plunging into a thunderstorm, my breath catching as a wave of cold, alien energy washed over me. The world beyond was an assault on the senses, a twisted landscape where jagged rocks floated in the air, and distant storms churned in the sky.

  “After we’re done here, let’s go to the beach.” – I said suddenly, my voice cutting through the oppressive silence of the dimensional fracture.

  Arstria turned her head slightly, her curious eyes narrowing at me in a mix of surprise and amusement. For a moment, the weight of the realm around us seemed to lift, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

  “You’re still thinking about that?” – She asked, her tone carrying both exasperation and warmth. – “Here, in the middle of this nightmare?”

  I shrugged, gripping my weapon tighter as I scanned the area for movement. – “Hey, I’m just saying. We’ve been cooped up training for what feels like forever, and now that I’m done… a day at the beach doesn’t sound so bad.”

  Arstria’s gaze softened as she stepped beside me, her hair catching the faint, flickering light of the vortex behind us. – “Considering your training is officially complete now.” – She said with a small nod. – “Yes. Let’s do it.”

  As the rift finally closed, the distorted fragments of reality around us began to stabilize, settling into their true forms. The chaos of swirling lights and fractured dimensions gave way to an eerie stillness, leaving behind a landscape both alien and hauntingly familiar. The air shimmered with residual energy, a faint hum vibrating through the ground beneath our feet.

  "Beasts being made from humanity's imagination was just a theory, then?" – I asked, my voice uncertain as I tried to grasp the enormity of what I was seeing. My eyes flicked toward her, my companion in this strange endeavor, whose calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to the surreal backdrop. – “They were dimensional aliens all along?"

  She didn’t answer immediately, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon as though searching for something hidden in the folds of this dreamlike world. The silence stretched, the only sound the faint crackle of energy dissipating into the ether.

  Finally, she spoke, her tone measured and thoughtful. – “No." – She said, shaking her head slightly.

  “According to my experiences and observations, I've concluded something far more complex. Humanity has always dreamed of worlds beyond its own. From the earliest myths of gods and monsters to the intricate fantasies woven by your greatest storytellers, you’ve longed for something more, something different. The beasts we fight... they aren’t merely invaders or products of your fears."

  Her gaze turned back to the horizon, her expression unreadable. – “They’re akin to dreams. Humanity’s collective unconscious gave them shape, purpose, and, ultimately, a bridge into existence. These worlds you see now? They are not where the beasts came from." – Her voice dropped, tinged with a quiet reverence. – “These places were created to sustain the beasts' existence. They're terrariums, if you will, entire realms forged to support beings born from human imagination."

  As we ventured deeper into the surreal realm, the landscape finally revealed its true, eerily serene form. The ground beneath our feet smoothed into a plane of soft, cloudlike grass that shimmered faintly. Above, the churning storms parted to reveal a boundless expanse of blue sky, the light glinting off the reflective surface of the terrain. The air grew warmer, infused with a subtle sweetness that felt both inviting and otherworldly.

  “It is beautiful.” – I remarked.

  “Definitely one of the best-looking ones.” – She added.

  We pressed on, the realm unfolding with every step. Towering topaz formations rose like mountains in the distance, their jagged spires catching and refracting the sunlight in a dazzling display. Streams of crystalline water flowed through the landscape, their currents carrying motes of energy.

  As we approached the heart of the realm, a change in the atmosphere was palpable. The air grew denser, charged with an energy that set my nerves on edge. Ahead, a vast meadow opened up, its surface blanketed by a field of ethereal, glowing flowers. At the center of the meadow stood a creature, its presence both majestic and imposing.

  The field of glowing flowers extended as far as the eye could see, their soft luminescence casting a surreal glow over the landscape. Each bloom pulsed faintly, as though alive with the rhythm of some invisible force. The sight was mesmerizing, almost tranquil, but the charged air hinted at an underlying menace.

  “Stay alert.” – Arstria said, her tone sharp and focused. Her crimson eyes scanned the meadow, catching every flicker of movement among the flowers.

  Her calm confidence was infectious, but a flicker of doubt lingered in my mind. I’d trained for months, but this was different. The stakes felt higher, the weight of the mission pressing down on me. Still, I nodded, forcing my nerves to settle. – “Got it.”

  As we continued forward, the stillness of the meadow became oppressive, every step accompanied by the soft crunch of the ground beneath our boots. The pulsing glow of the flowers seemed to quicken with our movement, their light throbbing in synchrony with the heavy hum that filled the air. It felt as though the very field was alive, watching us, waiting for something.

  Arstria moved with purpose, her steps deliberate yet light, as though she floated across the delicate terrain. Her eyes never stopped scanning the horizon, their piercing gaze sharp enough to cut through the haze of unease that hung over the meadow. She held her weapons close, the blade humming faintly in response to the tension around us.

  “There.” – She said, her voice low as she pointed toward the creature.

  I followed her gaze, my eyes widening as they fell upon a being unlike any I had ever encountered. The beasts that the stars had faced were fear inducing manifestations of humanity’s nightmares, bloodthirsty predators driven by an insatiable hunger for destruction. Yet this creature was different, so different that calling it a beast felt almost sacrilegious.

  It stood by a crystalline river, its posture regal and unthreatening, drinking from the shimmering water with an elegance that seemed at odds with everything I knew about the beings we were meant to fight. Its body was a masterpiece of nature and myth, its coat a pristine white that caught the light like freshly fallen snow. Each strand of fur seemed to shimmer, as though imbued with an ethereal white glow.

  Wings, magnificent and powerful, unfurled slightly at its sides. They were as vast as they were breathtaking, their feathers a mix of soft ivory and shimmering silver, each one catching the light in a way that made the creature appear almost heavenly. The tips of the feathers glowed faintly, as if kissed by sunlight.

  Its form was a harmonious blend of strength and grace. Muscles rippled beneath its sleek fur as it shifted, its movements fluid and deliberate. The long, elegant neck arched gracefully.

  But it was the creature’s eyes that struck me the most. Large and luminous, they held an intelligence far beyond anything I had expected. They were a deep, electric shade of yellow, and as they flicked briefly toward us, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me.

  Grand Beast

  Pegasus

  “This… this can’t be what we’re here to fight.” – I murmured, my voice barely audible as I struggled to reconcile the majestic vision before me with the threat we had come to eliminate.

  Arstria didn’t respond immediately, her gaze locked onto the creature with an intensity that made her look like a machine. Her expression hard and unreadable.

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” – Arstria said finally, her voice low but firm, carrying a weight that made me shiver. Her crimson eyes, usually so warm, now burned with a grim resolve that made my stomach twist. – “This creature, for all its beauty, is no different from the others. If given the opportunity, it will kill humans as effortlessly as it breathes.”

  Her words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. For a moment, the only sound was the gentle murmur of the river as it flowed beside the Pegasus. Its serene stance, the elegance of its every motion, seemed so at odds with the horrific truth Arstria had just revealed.

  She continued, her tone steady but edged with a bitterness I hadn’t heard before. – “It’s nothing new in this field, having to kill creatures like this, majestic beings that look like they’ve stepped straight out of humanity’s dreams. When they’re beautiful like this one, the battles simply aren’t shown on the media.”

  Her words cut through me like ice, the raw truth of them unsettling in a way I couldn’t shake. I couldn’t help but glance back at the Pegasus. It stood perfectly still by the crystalline river, its head tilted slightly as if listening to some distant, unearthly melody. The sunlight glinted off its fur and wings, painting it in hues of divine light.

  Arstria’s sharp gaze shifted to me, her expression hard as stone. – “Are you going to do it or not?” – She asked coldly. The girl who had been so warm and reassuring earlier was gone, replaced by a soldier hardened by countless battles.

  “Yes.” – I said, forcing the word out even as doubt clawed at me. I tightened my grip on my sword, the golden blade humming faintly with the energy that had been imbued into it. Slowly, I crouched down, the tall grass of the field brushing against my arms as I tried to steady my breathing.

  The Pegasus hadn’t noticed us yet, its focus still on the river, but its wings twitched slightly, a subtle reminder that it could take to the skies in an instant. I had one chance to strike, one chance before it escaped or retaliated.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, drawing on the training I had undergone for months under Vian’s brutal tutelage and Arstria’s relentless supervision. Every strike, every movement, had been drilled into me a thousand times over. My body knew what to do, even if my mind rebelled against the act.

  ‘Just move.’ – I told myself. – ‘Just do it.’

  The blood coursing through my veins wasn’t entirely my own anymore. Arstria’s blood, imbued with the strength and resilience of her immortal nature, had changed me in ways I was still coming to understand. It was what gave me the confidence to act now, to believe that I could succeed where a mere human might falter.

  The Pegasus shifted slightly, dipping its head to the water again. It was now or never.

  With a sharp intake of breath, I surged forward, every ounce of my training focused into a single, fluid motion. My feet barely touched the ground as I sprinted, the golden sword in my grip glowing faintly, its edge reflecting the dying light of the day. My heart raced in time with my pulse, adrenaline surging through my veins as I closed the distance between myself and the creature.

  The Pegasus, however, was faster than I had anticipated. Its ears flicked back, sensing the disturbance in the air, and in a flash, its head snapped up. Its luminous eyes met mine, and for just a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. There was no malice in those eyes, no fury, nor hatred. Only an ancient, unknowable sadness. A sorrow that transcended time itself, a grief so profound that it made my chest tighten and my sword falter. It was a moment of connection, fleeting and fragile, that made the weight of what I was about to do feel unbearable.

  But before I could make sense of that fleeting bond, the Pegasus reacted. Its massive wings flared open. The wind whipped around me, threatening to knock me off balance as it began to lift into the air. I could feel the power radiating off it, the majesty of a creature too wild to be contained. The world around me seemed to grow distant, and I knew I had only one chance.

  I lunged forward, my body driven by instinct. The sword in my hands gleamed, a silver streak of light cutting through the evening air. I thrust it forward with all my strength, every muscle straining, every fiber of my being focused on the mark. The creature was almost within reach, its wings beating with tremendous force, the wind howling as it pulled away from the earth.

  But it was too late. In a single, graceful leap, the Pegasus took flight, leaving the field behind. Its powerful wings beat once, twice, and then it soared into the sky. My heart sank. The sword, which had been my steady companion, now felt like an unwieldy weight in my hands. I had failed.

  No, I had spared it, that much was clear.

  “Then it is my turn now.”

  The voice was commanding and full of purpose. Before I could even process what was happening, a brilliant flash of light erupted from behind me. I turned just in time to see Arstria, the fiery star, ignite like a rocket, her entire being consumed by the force of her power. With a burst of flame and fury, she shot toward the flying beast, her form a blazing trail against the fading light of the sky.

  I dropped to my knees, the earth beneath me soft and forgiving. My hands trembled as I watched the battle unfold above me. My sword still heavy in my grasp, I could do nothing but watch as the two forces collided in the sky.

  Chris’s blade faltered mid-swing, his attack falling short as the beast soared effortlessly into the sky. His face twisted with frustration, the spark of determination dimmed by the realization of his failure. It was supposed to be his moment, his first victory against a beast. But now, as the Pegasus vanished into the clouds, it was clear his chance had slipped away.

  I stepped forward. The rapiers already flaring into life, their edges glowing with a furious intensity as flames licked hungrily along their lengths. – “Then it is my turn now.”

  The fire surged, crackling as it danced along the blades, casting a golden hue over the battlefield. Without waiting for a response, I launched myself into the air, propelled by the searing heat of my own flames. The ground fell away in an instant, replaced by the open expanse of the sky as I ascended toward the fleeing Pegasus.

  I lunged, my rapiers blazing with fire as I closed the distance, but just as my blade grazed the air where it had been, it veered sharply to the side, leaving me swiping at nothing. My flames, once a reliable extension of my will, seemed sluggish in comparison to its fast reflexes. I gritted my teeth, frustration mounting with every failed attempt.

  Again, I surged forward, flames propelling me through the sky. I slashed in a wide arc, aiming to cut off its escape, but the Pegasus read my movements as if it could see into my mind. Its wings folded inward for a split second, sending it into a rapid dive that left me slicing through empty air. Before I could react, it snapped its wings open again, the sudden burst of wind nearly knocking me off balance as it spiraled upward, effortlessly reclaiming the high ground.

  Most air beasts could fly, but this one… this one was different. Its movements were sharper, faster, almost impossible to predict. Each time I thought I had closed the gap, it twisted and spiraled through the air with an agility that defied reason, leaving me in its wake. My teeth clenched in frustration as I realized this was no ordinary beast. It was smarter, far smarter, than the creatures I’d faced before.

  “Fine.” – I muttered through gritted teeth, the flames intensifying. – “If you’re so faster and dodges everything I throw at you, then let’s see how you handle this.”

  With a surge of mana, I activated a technique I had honed specifically for airborne enemies.

  “Firework Explosion!”

  The flames on my rapiers fused into a single, incandescent burst, and with a roar, I shot forward like a blazing comet. My body became a missile of destruction, propelled by the sheer force of my own fire. This was my most dangerous technique, one designed for the sky, far from the reach of innocent lives below. It was a calculated explosion, a maelstrom of fire that consumed everything within its radius, including me.

  As I hurtled toward the Pegasus, I felt the familiar heat enveloping my body, the searing pain a reminder of the price of using such a reckless attack. The burns, the draining of all my mana, the freefall after the explosion, it was a technique only possible through my immortality.

  The Pegasus had nowhere to run. I was upon it, the gap closed, the moment perfect. I prepared to detonate, to engulf it in flames so powerful that not even its speed could save it.

  And then it screamed.

  The sound was otherworldly, piercing through the air like a blade, and in an instant, everything changed. Its pristine white coat, shimmering with the ethereal glow of its element, began to shift. Golden veins streaked across its body, pulsing like liquid lightning. The Pegasus wasn’t fleeing anymore, it was transforming.

  What…?

  During my early years of fighting, Earth Beasts like the Scarab were common. Towering and unyielding, juggernauts of destruction, their hulking forms covered in impenetrable armor that seemed carved from the planet itself. But as the years passed, their numbers dwindled. Now, it’s a rare event to encounter an Earth Beast, their kind seemingly fading into obscurity as if the earth itself has withdrawn its champions from the fight.

  In contrast, Water Beasts like The Livyatan have only grown in prevalence, their ranks swelling as though the element bears a personal grudge against me. These creatures are as cunning as they are relentless. They strike with precision, exploiting every vulnerability as if guided by some unseen hatred. Their presence is a constant, a grim reminder that some forces in this world will never rest until I am no more.

  Air Beasts, on the other hand, are a relatively new phenomenon. Their arrival marked a shift in the battlefield, a shift that felt as sudden as it was unnerving. Creatures like this one have only begun to appear in recent years, but their numbers are slowly but steadily increasing. Unlike their terrestrial and aquatic counterparts, Air Beasts bring an entirely different kind of challenge. Their speed and agility make them elusive adversaries, their attacks precise and unrelenting from the skies. Their growing presence feels like a prelude, a harbinger of something far greater and more dangerous yet to come.

  “Our souls resonate with one aspect of an element, binding us to its specific form. Some, however, can adapt their soul’s resonance, shifting between the main element and the alter.” – Sapphire’s words echoed in my mind.

  Until now.

  Grand Beast

  Pegasus

  The Bringer of Lightning

  The Pegasus’s transformation shattered the rules I thought I understood. The air around it crackled with energy, its newly golden wings humming with raw power. Lightning surged along its body, building in intensity until it erupted in a blinding flash. The bolt struck me point-blank, a searing lance of electricity that tore through my body with merciless precision.

  My nerves screamed before falling silent, my body locking in place as paralysis swept over me. The fire in my rapiers extinguished, the mana sustaining them torn away by the electrical onslaught. I was helpless, a burning comet turned lifeless projectile, hurtling toward the earth below.

  My technique, my desperate gambit, it had failed.

  Through the haze of pain and the roar of the wind, I saw it. The Pegasus hovered above, its golden veins pulsating like the heart of a star, its eyes glowing with an intelligence that sent chills down my spine.

  The ground rushed toward me, the wind screaming in my ears as I plummeted, unable to move, unable to even brace for the impact. My body was a prisoner to the aftershocks of the lightning’s fury, the numbness spreading through my veins.

  When I opened my eyes, the world was cloaked in the quiet stillness of night. The cool, muted light of the moon filtered through the canopy of clouds above, casting faint silvery patterns on the ground around me. Rebirth, as always, was a strange and disorienting experience. Each time I died, the time it took for me to return seemed to shorten, but it was never predictable. Sometimes it was mere minutes, a fleeting pause in battle; other times, it dragged on for hours or even days, especially when my body was left in a particularly catastrophic state.

  I sat up slowly, my limbs stiff but functional. My senses sharpened as the haze of my rebirth cleared, and I scanned my surroundings. The area was unfamiliar, a barren stretch of open land broken only by jagged rocks and patches of sparse vegetation. It didn’t take long to piece together what must have happened. The sheer velocity of my fall during the fight with the Pegasus had likely carried me far from where I’d started.

  Speaking of Chris… where was he? He wasn’t here, which didn’t surprise me. I had left him behind in the sky, where he had been trying, and failing, to strike the beast. He wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the beast’s relentless speed or my explosive descent. Still, a pang of worry tugged at me. He was inexperienced, and without me there, he’d have been vulnerable if the Pegasus had turned its attention back to him.

  My gaze swept across the horizon, searching the shadows of the night for any trace of the Pegasus. The silence was oppressive, the emptiness stretching out like a void. It was gone, vanished into the darkness, and the realization sent a ripple of urgency through me. The beast was still out there, somewhere, waiting, lurking, perhaps even preparing for its next attack. Rest wasn’t an option, not while the threat lingered.

  I pushed myself to my feet, brushing dirt from my charred clothes. My body felt lighter now, the pain and paralysis from the lightning strike finally fading. I stretched my fingers, channeling mana through them, and felt the warm, familiar hum of power coursing through me. To my relief, my mana reserves were fully restored. The rebirth had done its work, I was ready to fight again at full strength.

  My thoughts turned to the feather. It was the lynchpin of this chaos, the artifact that had drawn me into this battle in the first place. The portal it opened was still incomplete, but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. A few hours, at most, and the feather would fully awaken, unleashing its true power. I needed to eliminate the Pegasus before that happened.

  Yet, as the urgency burned within me, another thought surfaced, unbidden and bitter. This fight hadn’t gone as planned. I hadn’t expected to face a beast like this today, a creature wielding an element I had never encountered before. Its adaptation had caught me off guard, and now I was forced to grapple with an uncomfortable truth: the more beasts I defeated, the stronger the next ones became. Every battle brought escalation, every victory pushing the boundaries of what I thought possible. The Pegasus was proof of that.

  “If I can’t catch up to them.” – I muttered, the weight of the admission sinking in. – “I won’t be able to save anyone.”

  My mind flickered to Sapphire, her calm confidence and unmatched skill. If she had been with me, this fight would have ended before it began. She would have cut the Pegasus down with a single decisive blow before it could even take off.

  The rules of the feathers were immutable. When a star like me and Chris, entered through a feather, we were challenging the beast. The portal reacted, locking its energies to the challenger and sealing itself from others. Another star, no matter how powerful, couldn’t join the fight once the initial entry had been made. It was an unspoken pact, a trial that only the chosen star could face.

  I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as the frustration boiled within me. The thought of Chris crossed my mind again. His inexperience had shown today, his failure to defeat it. But he was young, still learning, still growing. I couldn’t afford to let this setback distract me. Right now, the responsibility was mine, and mine alone.

  Before I could think of my next move, rain began to pour in relentless sheets. The cold droplets hammered against me, soaking through my clothes almost instantly. I tilted my head back, letting the water splash against my face as I muttered under my breath. – “Great.”

  My flames were tied to more than just physics, they were deeply entwined with the beliefs of humanity, with the collective perception of what fire could and couldn’t do. And to humanity, fire and water were opposites. A fire burning in the middle of a storm was almost unthinkable, and because of that, my power would diminish. Not because the rain extinguished my flames directly, but because the very idea of fire surviving in such conditions felt unnatural.

  If I was using my true power like I was during my awakening, that wouldn’t be a problem. But unfortunately, I’ve yet to break that seal. But maybe it wouldn’t really matter, because inside of this dimension, humanity’s perception is even more significant.

  Worse still, I couldn’t shake the implications of the Pegasus’s element. Its lightning-based abilities, already devastating, would likely become far more potent in this weather. Raindrops falling from the sky, pooling on the ground, connecting everything in a web of conductivity, it was the perfect environment for an electric beast to thrive. Fighting it now would be like walking into a battlefield where every advantage was stacked against me.

  Pulling my damp cape tighter around my shoulders, I broke into a run, searching for shelter from the relentless rain. The downpour blurred my vision, but my senses, honed from years of magic and combat, guided me. I didn’t just see my destination, I felt it.

  A faint pulse of energy tugged at my awareness, drawing me toward its source. One of the subtle gifts of being a magic user was the innate connection to your element. Just as Sapphire could sense the precise location of metal with uncanny accuracy — I once tried to trick her with a coin hidden in my hand, and she saw through it instantly — I could feel the flicker of fire in the world around me.

  The sensation grew stronger as I pressed forward, until I found myself standing before the mouth of a cave. The shadows within seemed to beckon me, promising refuge from the storm. I hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside, the cool darkness enveloping me.

  The air here was different, thick and warm, tinged with a faint acrid scent that clung to my nostrils. As I ventured deeper, my connection to fire sharpened, pulling me toward the source. The cave opened into a vast chamber, and there they were, tongues of flame flickering from vents in the ground, casting an otherworldly glow against the rough stone walls. The fires burned steadily, their light reflecting off the wet surfaces, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.

  I crouched near one of the vents, studying it closely. The flames were natural. They seemed fueled by an invisible source, likely a combustible gas seeping up from deep within the earth. Fires like these could burn for centuries, feeding off the rich reserves beneath the surface. The warmth they provided was welcome, seeping into my soaked clothes and chasing away the chill of the rain.

  My mind began racing, piecing together a strategy to take down the Pegasus. A surprise attack is still the best way forward, striking at the beast before it has a chance to react. Timing would be everything. I would need to catch it during a moment of vulnerability, when it landed. But with the storm raging outside, that wouldn’t be possible. The Pegasus thrived in these conditions, and it wasn’t likely to touch the ground until the skies cleared.

  Still, I couldn’t shake an unsettling feeling. The Pegasus would eventually leave this pocket world, that much was certain. In just a few hours, the feather’s portal would fully awaken, releasing the beast into the city. But something about this terrarium felt off, different from the countless others I had entered before. It gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, an inexplicable sense that the usual rules didn’t fully apply here.

  Why did it feel so alien? The energy within this space was unlike anything I’d encountered in other dimensions. It was strange, layered, almost deliberate. For instance, the fire vents scattered throughout the cave. They were undeniably elemental, but they had no logical connection to an airborne creature like the Pegasus. Fire and Air rarely intersected this way, and their presence here was a mystery that I couldn’t ignore.

  I leaned back against the rough cave wall, my damp clothes now fully dried by the steady heat of the vents. I had spent nearly an hour in this strange space. The storm outside was beginning to ease. The relentless pounding of rain had softened to a steady drizzle, and I could hear the occasional gust of wind brushing against the mouth of the cave. If it continued at this pace, the skies would clear within half an hour.

  Hmm?

  I paused mid-step, my body tensing as an inexplicable sensation washed over me. It wasn’t a sound in the usual sense, not something my ears had caught, but it was there. A faint ripple that resonated within. My soul stirred, an unshakable awareness spreading through me.

  There was something here.

  The sensation was unlike anything I had experienced before, a vibration that wasn’t physical, yet it went through my being with clarity. It felt familiar, yet foreign. A presence that mirrored something within me.

  Another star?

  Could it be? Was there someone in this place that shared the same essence as me? The thought was unnerving. The resonance I felt now was undeniable, as if my soul had found something similar.

  But this was different.

  I had never felt this kind of connection when I was near Sapphire, her presence didn’t seem like this. The only other time I had felt something like this was with Chris. Maybe it could’ve been other ghouls?

  No, this was something else entirely.

  It was here, real and undeniable, its presence emanating from the very heart of the cave. The pulse was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, like a heartbeat resonating through the stone walls. The deeper I ventured, the stronger it became, each step pulling me closer to the unknown. My instincts flared with warning, urging caution, but my curiosity burned brighter. Whatever this was, it wasn’t ordinary, and the idea of turning back now was unthinkable.

  The heat intensified as I descended further into the cavern, the air growing heavier with each step. Flickering fire vents lined the path, their glow casting erratic shadows on the walls that danced and shifted as if alive.

  Then I saw it.

  It stared at me from the depths of the fiery cave, its form illuminated by the flickering light of the surrounding flames. My breath caught as I took in the creature before me. It was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Its many eyes burned with an intense red light, unblinking and sharp, fixed on me.

  For years, I had wondered why I’d never encountered one before. If the world was truly divided into four elements, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, why had the beasts I fought always belonged to only the first three? But Fire Beasts? They were absent, a mystery I had chalked up to coincidence or some quirk of elemental balance.

  Now I had my answer.

  This creature was a manifestation of the element that defined my very existence. It radiated power, raw and untamed. Every breath it took sent waves of heat rolling through the cavern, distorting the air with its intensity.

  Humanity has always been a species of storytellers. Through every age, our imagination has run wild, creating monsters. But no matter how fantastic these creations are, one thing has always held true: they are grounded, in some way, to reality.

  Take the Pegasus I had fought earlier. It didn’t appear from the void. Its concept was rooted in the natural world: a fusion of two creatures that humans knew well. The body of a horse, majestic and powerful, paired with the wings of an eagle, dominating the skies. Individually, they were real. Together, they were a fantastical impossibility. No mammal could simply sprout wings, and such disparate species could never breed. But that’s how humans imagine: they merge, twist, and combine.

  True hybrids, like a lion and a tiger producing a liger, exist within the bounds of nature. Their creation is limited to species with similar enough DNA. But these mythological beasts, creatures like the Pegasus or mermaids, are something else entirely. They are not hybrids but amalgamations, unnatural combinations of flesh and form that defy biology.

  There is a name for such creatures, one used throughout history to describe monstrosities born of fusion. These are not hybrids but something more grotesque, an affront to the natural order.

  Grand Beast

  Chimera

  Abomination of Lycia

  And now, standing before me in the depths of this fiery cavern, was that very thing.

  Its lion’s head, massive and commanding, was covered in a mane of thick, shaggy fur. But beneath that fur, I could see the glint of scales, hard and reptilian. Its claws, sharp and menacing, were an unnatural blend of feline and reptile, curved and serrated as if designed to tear through both flesh and stone with ease.

  Behind the lion’s head, grotesquely fused as though the two were conjoined twins, was the head of a goat. Its demonic horns curled menacingly, blackened and jagged like the remnants of a scorched forest. The goat’s eyes burned with an unnatural red glow.

  And then there was the tail. Slithering behind the creature was not a tuft of fur but a snake, alive, writhing, and alert. Its scales gleamed like polished obsidian, and its fanged mouth hissed venomously, as if it were a mind of its own.

  Through the entire body of the Chimera, fiery energy coursed like molten magma. Veins of glowing red light pulsed across its limbs and torso, radiating heat so intense that even the air around it shimmered.

  The lion’s head roared, a sound so powerful that it shook the very walls of the cavern. The goat’s head followed suit, letting out a guttural bellow that reverberated through my chest. The snake hissed and snapped, its body coiling tightly as though preparing to strike.

  I tightened my grip on my rapier, feeling the familiar hum of fire coursing through its blade.

  The creature didn’t respond, but it didn’t need to. Its sheer existence was a challenge, a statement of dominance.

  But I wasn’t one to back down from a fight.

  With a sharp exhale, I tightened my grip on my rapier and slashed the air, unleashing a torrent of fire slashes that roared toward the beast like a blazing storm. The flames burned fiercely, their heat scorching the walls of the cavern as they closed in on the Chimera. For a moment, I thought I saw the flames reflect in its molten veins, a hint of recognition in its lion’s gaze.

  But then, the impossible happened.

  As the fire touched the Chimera’s body, it didn’t burn. The flames were consumed, drawn into the beast’s molten veins as if they were fuel rather than harm. The fire that should have scorched and seared was absorbed seamlessly, the beast standing unscathed, its glowing form almost mocking in its invulnerability.

  I cursed under my breath. Regular flames were useless. It had no fear of my attacks because it was born of the very element I wielded. My usual arsenal would be meaningless here.

  That left only one option.

  I straightened, lowering my rapier for a moment as I drew a deep breath, centering myself. The cavern seemed to grow quieter, the flickering fire vents dimming as if responding to the gravity of the moment. The Chimera tilted its heads, its curiosity evident as it watched me. Perhaps it sensed the shift in the air, the gathering of power that was about to unfold.

  My voice echoed through the chamber, steady and resolute, carrying the weight of my intent.

  “Ultimate Magic: Ars Nova.”

  The words were a trigger, a key that unlocked the deepest reserves of my mana. The air around me ignited, flames spiraling outward in a torrent of energy that radiated heat and light. This wasn’t ordinary fire, this was a manifestation of my very soul, the purest form of my power. The ground beneath me glowed red-hot, cracks spreading outward as the cavern struggled to contain the intensity of my magic.

  The Chimera’s heads reared back, its molten veins glowing brighter as it seemed to sense the danger. For the first time, there was a flicker of hesitation in its movements, a recognition that what it faced now was unlike anything it had encountered before.

  The flames of Ars Nova swirled around me, forming a blazing vortex that pulsed with raw, uncontainable energy. My body burned with the intensity of the magic, my skin tingling as the power threatened to consume me. But I held firm, my focus unyielding. This spell wasn’t just about overwhelming the enemy, it was about pushing past limits, proving that even the impossible could be undone.

  With a cry, I thrust my rapier forward, the flames surging toward the Chimera in a wave of incandescent light. This was no ordinary attack, it was a judgment, a reckoning, fire that could pierce the invulnerable and sear the unburnable.

  The cavern erupted in light and heat as the flames collided with the Chimera, the sheer force of the impact shaking the very foundation of the cave. The beast roared, its three voices blending into a cacophony of rage and defiance. The flames of Ars Nova engulfed it, swirling around its massive form as the cavern itself seemed to tremble under the weight of the spell.

  For a moment, the Chimera’s molten veins flickered, its fiery essence dimming under the onslaught. The air was thick with tension, every second stretching into an eternity as the spell did its work.

  However, as the firestorm subsided, the beast emerged from the inferno with a fearsome pride. Its once-lustrous fur had been entirely burned away, revealing the glistening scales beneath: hard and unyielding. The Chimera’s molten veins pulsed even brighter now, as though the flames I had unleashed only served to stoke its internal fire.

  This wasn’t merely a fusion of flesh and bone. It was something far more profound: a walking concept, a creature that embodied the very essence of fire itself. No matter how powerful my flames were, there was no defeating a beast born of the same element. I clenched my teeth, frustration mingling with reluctant admiration. Perhaps it was a good thing I had never faced such a monster before.

  But this was no time for defeatist thoughts. Fire might be its essence, but fire wasn’t my only weapon.

  My mind raced as the Chimera prowled forward, its movements deliberate, exuding confidence born from invincibility. I tightened my grip on my rapiers, shifting my stance. Instead of conjuring more flames, I focused my mana inward, channeling it to bolster my physical abilities. Speed, strength, precision, those would be my weapons now. The fire, for all its destructive power, would serve only to enhance my movements.

  The Chimera lunged, its claws slicing through the air with terrifying force. I sidestepped, my body moving with a speed that left an afterimage in the flickering firelight. My rapiers, though forged of steel, gleamed with lethal intent as I darted beneath the beast’s massive frame.

  With a single, fluid motion, I slashed at the creature’s stomach. My blades scraped against its scales, sparks flying as they struggled to cut through the tough armor. But rapiers weren’t designed to cleave, they were made to pierce. And I knew exactly where to strike.

  Adjusting my grip, I drove my rapiers upward, aiming for the vulnerable spot between its overlapping scales. The blade pierced through with a sickening resistance, and I could feel it puncture the soft flesh beneath. A low, guttural growl erupted from the Chimera as it writhed, its three heads snapping and snarling in fury.

  Its insides were unarmored, soft and vulnerable, just as I had suspected. If my flames could burn away its fur, then they could ignite the flesh beneath.

  “Firefly Burst.”

  The words left my lips like a battle cry as I unleashed a torrent of concentrated flames through the blade embedded in its stomach. The fire surged into the beast’s body, snaking through its organs like a living inferno. The Chimera roared in agony, its lion’s head bellowing, the goat’s head screaming, and the snake’s hissing escalating into a furious crescendo.

  It thrashed wildly, trying to dislodge me, but I held my ground, forcing the flames deeper. The heat within the beast became unbearable, the energy I poured into it consuming everything in its path.

  The flames grew hotter, brighter, and more intense, until finally, they reached their peak. With a final, desperate roar, the Chimera’s thrashing ceased, its colossal body collapsing to the ground with a resounding thud.

  I stepped back, panting, as the last embers of my flames flickered and died. The cavern was eerily quiet, the once-proud beast reduced to a smoldering, lifeless husk. Its organs had been completely incinerated, leaving behind only the charred remnants of its scaled form.

  I stood over the fallen Chimera, my rapiers still gleaming faintly with residual heat. The cavern was silent, save for the faint crackling of residual flames lingering in the beast’s charred remains. For a brief moment, I allowed myself a breath of relief. It was over, the fire beast, the monstrous embodiment of my own element, had been defeated.

  Or so I thought.

  The lion’s head lay still, its once-burning eyes now dark and lifeless. The goat’s head, too, was unmoving, its grotesque features frozen in death. But just as I began to lower my guard, a sharp, searing pain flared in my leg.

  I stumbled, gasping as I looked down. The snake, which I had assumed to be as dead as the rest of the creature, had struck with lightning speed and terrifying precision. Its fangs had sunk deep into my flesh, and I could feel its venom coursing through my veins, an fire that spread with alarming speed.

  Before I could react, the Chimera moved. The lion’s head lifted first, followed by the goat, their eyes igniting once more with that eerie, molten glow. The beast’s massive body rose, unsteady at first, but soon it stood as tall and imposing as ever.

  Panic clawed at the edges of my mind as the realization struck me like a thunderbolt. This wasn’t just a single creature. The Chimera wasn’t merely a lion with additional heads, it was three beasts fused into one, each with its own essence, its own will.

  The snake wasn’t a mere appendage; it was a fully separate entity, its entire body hidden within the guise of a tail. And more importantly, it was the source of the fire resistance that had rendered my initial attacks useless. The scales that shielded the Chimera’s body weren’t born of the lion or the goat, they were the serpent’s, its essence extending over the entire amalgamation.

  I staggered back, my leg trembling as the venom’s effects worsened. The pain was unbearable, but what frightened me most was the visible necrosis spreading across my flesh. The skin around the bite was already blackened, the poison eating away at me from the inside out.

  My mind raced, weighing my options. Cutting off the leg was the first thought that came to me, but I dismissed it just as quickly. My immortality only worked if I was completely killed, partial injuries wouldn’t heal on their own. If I severed the leg, it wouldn’t regenerate, and I’d be left crippled.

  But dying here wasn’t an option either. If the Chimera killed me, it wouldn’t stop at that. It would eat me, and I wouldn’t have a chance to escape its stomach. Immortality wouldn’t save me from being trapped in the belly of a beast.

  The Chimera’s three heads roared in unison, their cries reverberating through the cavern as they advanced. The lion’s claws tore through the ground with each step, the goat’s horns gleamed menacingly in the firelight, and the serpent hissed with renewed fury, its fangs dripping with venom.

  There was no escape.