The moment I stepped into the plaza, I felt as if gravity itself had warped.
An overwhelming, inescapable pressure crushed down on me. The air felt heavy, replaced by invisible particles of lead; merely standing and breathing felt like my life force was being ruthlessly stripped away. The rift I had managed to pierce yesterday was gone. In its place, a pillar of crimson light stabbed toward the heavens, its sinister radiance more intense than before—a malevolent glare that burned my eyes.
The ground was eerily damp. The scent of earth—parched by the ritual’s unnatural heat—mingled with the metallic tang of blood. This stagnant, macabre aroma numbed my senses.
“So, you have returned. Pitiful mice, unable to grasp your own helplessness.”
At the center, before the altar where the Moon God was held captive, a man turned slowly. He wore the same expressionless white mask as the other henchmen, but his attire set him apart. He wore a black kariginu—hunting robes woven from shadows that swallowed the light. He was the commander of this blasphemous ritual. Distorted moon crests were stitched into his sleeves like curses, warping the senses of any who looked upon them. From behind his mask, a gaze devoid of warmth pierced Koyoi like an icy blade.
“Intruders confirmed. This time... eradicate them.”
He swung his staff with practiced indifference. Black mud oozed from the silent ground, and alien figures rose—ten, twenty of them. All wore identical white masks and brandished weapons glinting with a cold light. The masks were smooth porcelain, without eyes or mouths, yet they pulsed with a pathological will to "observe." They gripped spears and sickle-like blades traced by crimson light, radiating a killing chill—as if a single touch would freeze one’s blood in an instant.
“Hmph! More of them than yesterday? Interesting!”
Asahi drew his heavy sword with a shout that shook the earth. “I’ll handle this lot! I’m used to clearing the way. You two, stop that ritual as fast as you can!”
Asahi plunged into the enemy like a bullet. His blade carved through the air in a dance of steel. He parried spears with minimal effort, kicked through mud-like bodies, and forced open a path through the chaos. Gravel flew beneath his feet, and with every strike, sparks of red light scattered.
The masked men did not scream when cut down. Instead, only the hollow sound of dry earth crumbling echoed across the plaza. Asahi’s breathing grew ragged, his lungs burning, yet his footwork remained unshaken. Every time his sword fell, the distorted shadows wavered and dissolved into the void.
“Go, Koyoi! Trust him!”
Kuon sprinted toward the altar. Koyoi followed, his legs moving desperately to keep pace. “I told you not to let them escape,” the commander said, snapping his fingers. “Not a single mouse leaves this barrier.” Countless chains of crimson light snaked from the altar. They melted the stones and slithered toward Koyoi with obsessive precision. Even from the smallest cracks, those hands of death reached out to block him.
“Ah!”
Koyoi stumbled. Searing chains wrapped around his ankle. The agony was beyond "burning"—it felt as if his flesh was being charred. “Wind God! Help me!” he screamed.
『Leave it to me! I'll blow these filthy chains to bits!』
A furious voice echoed from his pouch. A localized gale erupted, shredding the chains like paper.
“How insolent... a vessel capable of wielding divine power remains.”
The man leveled his staff. A massive fireball expanded, sucking in the heat and distorting the moonlight. The ends of Koyoi's hair singed; the smell of scorched eyebrows hit his nose. But he didn't look away. “Power stolen and imitated from other gods,” Kuon said, stepping forward. “It’s revolting. Your control over the spell is pathetic—the fate of those who drown in their own logic.”
A thin beam of blue light shot from Kuon's disk, striking the "knot" of the spell. An explosion rocked the summit. As the smoke cleared, Kuon stood with a defiant smirk. “My eye can see the flow of divine power,” he said, his glass left eye shining with rage. “The gaps in your amateur spells are as plain to me as pockmarks on a face.”
“...You. The runaway?” The man’s voice carried a trace of cold astonishment. “To think a discarded failure survived like a sewer rat. A miscalculation.”
“Yeah,” Kuon replied. “And I’m here to drag you monsters back to hell.”
Koyoi ran for the altar. Behind him, Kuon glared at the man. “You erased my name in your 'experiments.' Now, I will erase your very existence from the records of this world.”
The commander’s fingers froze for a fleeting moment. Before Koyoi, the pillar of crimson light loomed. The memory of yesterday's pain flashed by, but his feet did not stop. In the center of that deathly pillar, the Moon God flickered.
“Wait for me! I'm getting you out!”
Koyoi held the Glass Pupil high. Vidro. Her hidden power was being tested.
『Reflect. I will reflect every distortion of this world within these eyes,』 Vidro’s sorrowful voice shook the air. 『Gather and return. Every drop of false light, back to its source. Koyoi, do not let go.』
The glass began to suck in the crimson light at a maddening speed. Energy condensed into a single point, sending a nerve-searing heat through Koyoi’s arm. The Wind God scattered the heat with a breeze, while the Moon God’s voice supported his soul. A red vortex pulsed within the glass, growing sharper and smaller. Koyoi’s arm went numb, his knees shook, but he never let go. If he did, the Moon God would sink into darkness forever.
“Go!”
Koyoi’s cry seemed to carve away his very soul. The light stored in Vidro was released toward the weakest point of the barrier. The summit fell into a deep silence. All Koyoi felt was his racing heart and the trembling of the gods. His prayer, his rage, and his fear traced a single path of light. The path was straight as a ruler, yet it wavered with his struggle.
Koyoi’s arm shook beyond its limit. Through his soul, he felt the Moon God draw a certain breath. Behind him, Asahi’s sword clashed with the masked men, and the gears of Kuon’s disk sang a high-pitched scream. Their wills and the gods’ power overlapped with perfect precision, creating a miraculous balance. Koyoi closed his eyes. The flame in his chest grew hotter; the breath of the Wind God and the heartbeat of the Glass God melted together. He felt the Moon God’s silver tears brush his cheek.
He swore to answer those tears with his life. The barrier shrieked in rejection. Within the vibration, Koyoi found it—the beat of the Moon God’s gentle heart. His inner flame erupted, sweeping away the darkness. Behind him, Asahi’s breathing grew labored but unbroken. The commander struck his staff, and red chains snaked out to bind the Moon God even tighter.
“Hurry, Koyoi! The ritual is reaching its limit!” Asahi’s raw scream rang out.
Kuon focused the light in Koyoi’s hands with needle-like precision. The red vortex within the Glass Pupil shrunk until it transformed into a silver flash. Koyoi squeezed out his last drop of strength. In the corner of his eye, the Moon God’s light flickered—a signal: This is the seam of the world. He inhaled until his lungs felt they would tear. On this one strike, he staked tomorrow.
Outside the barrier, the wind swirled. The Wind God poured energy into his back, pushing him toward the future. The vortex converged into a single spear. Koyoi extended his trembling arm. The barrier rippled and the air warped. I will reach you, he screamed in his heart. The flame in his chest answered with an explosion.
Time stretched like honey. The impact of the next instant would decide everything. Koyoi closed his eyes, called out her name, and let the spear of light fly into the seam. The world held its breath as light pierced the heavens. It was over. Now, in this moment, the distant lights of the town receded like a fading memory, and Koyoi slowly let the tension fade from his pulsing shoulders.