The chapter begins exactly where the previous one ended.

  The Sleepers were no longer a scattered threat.

  They were a tide.

  Deformed bodies pushing against each other, climbing walls, falling from the ceiling, crawling across the floor.

  The air was dense.

  The chamber almost full.

  At the center:

  Mitsume aiming at the gas tank.

  Hayate murmuring a prayer he wasn’t even sure he believed in.

  And Yūrei…

  Eyes closed.

  Breathing slowly.

  Holding Mitsume and Hayate close.

  His mind wasn’t in the sublevel.

  It was on Akuma.

  On Sasuke.

  On what it means to measure up.

  The Sleepers roared.

  One jumped.

  Another climbed over another’s back.

  The pressure was unbearable.

  Yūrei whispered.

  —Now, Mitsume.

  He opened his eyes.

  Black.

  Decided.

  —Mitsume, shoot.

  The shot hit the gas tank.

  A controlled explosion shook the room.

  But it didn’t give way.

  The Sleepers were already on top of them.

  Hayate screamed.

  —It wasn’t enough!

  Yūrei tightened his hold on both of them.

  And stopped holding back.

  He released magic.

  Not as an attack.

  As a state.

  His skin began turning translucent.

  His arms flickered between physical and nonexistent.

  The Sleepers tried to grab them.

  Their hands passed through.

  But only for moments.

  His ability wasn’t eternal.

  It was seconds.

  Seconds worth a life.

  The floor began fracturing under the explosion and pressure.

  A Sleeper struck Hayate.

  Its hand passed through Yūrei’s chest in the process.

  It didn’t touch him.

  But the effort made blood run from Yūrei’s nose.

  —Again! —he shouted.

  Mitsume fired once more.

  The tank exploded completely.

  The Sleepers began to burn.

  Yūrei screamed.

  He became fully intangible.

  For an instant.

  They fell.

  But not like normal bodies.

  They passed through concrete.

  Through beams.

  Through dust and stone.

  The world turned gray.

  Silent.

  Intangible.

  One second.

  Two.

  His magic began to fail.

  They returned to physical form just as they broke through the last level.

  They crashed rolling into the Second Sublevel.

  By a miracle.

  Hayate was breathing like he had run a marathon.

  Mitsume still held the weapon.

  Yūrei was on his knees.

  Shaking.

  Blood from his nose.

  He barely smiled.

  Dust still floated in the air.

  The Second Sublevel was narrower.

  Colder.

  Older.

  Mitsume was the first to move.

  She knelt beside Yūrei.

  Looked at him.

  He was breathing.

  Weak.

  But breathing.

  —You did it.

  Her voice was no longer strategic.

  It was warm.

  She hugged him tightly.

  A real hug.

  Yūrei turned red to his ears.

  His brain, which had just passed through concrete, was not prepared for that.

  He tried to say something.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  —I-I just…

  His pupils trembled.

  The effort.

  The blood loss.

  The magical overload.

  His body decided for him.

  He fainted.

  Hayate froze.

  Scratched the back of his neck.

  Looked at Mitsume.

  Looked at Yūrei.

  —Did he die…?

  Silence.

  Blink.

  —Did he die? REALLY? Was that the plan? Save us and then die dramatically?

  Mitsume, exhausted, rested her forehead against Yūrei’s shoulder.

  —He’s not dead.

  She said it without even looking at him.

  —He fainted.

  Hayate exhaled.

  Nervous laugh.

  —Ah. Good. Great. Fantastic.

  He ran a hand through his hair.

  —We won. Yeah. We won.

  He repeated it more to convince himself than out of certainty.

  Mitsume started looking around.

  And then she saw it.

  Bones.

  Many.

  White.

  Clean.

  As if something had devoured the flesh patiently.

  Her expression changed.

  No longer sweetness.

  No longer relief.

  Her eyes turned to ice.

  —Hayate…

  A growl.

  One.

  Low.

  Close.

  Then another.

  From the end of the hallway.

  Hayate stopped smiling.

  —I don’t like that sound.

  Mitsume slowly stood.

  Counted mentally.

  Checked her quiver.

  Touched her back.

  Breathed.

  Only one arrow left.

  One.

  Plan A destroyed.

  Plan B exhausted.

  Plan C nonexistent.

  Plan D… improvisation.

  The growls increased.

  Shadows moving between columns.

  Lower.

  Faster.

  Thinner than the ones above.

  Hayate stepped back half a step.

  His hands trembled.

  —Tell me you’ve got another arrow magically hidden up your sleeve.

  Mitsume smiled.

  Small.

  Controlled.

  —If I did, I would’ve already used it to shut you up.

  Another growl.

  Closer.

  Hayate swallowed.

  —Great. Refined humor.

  Mitsume didn’t panic.

  She looked around.

  Emergency exit.

  A tilted sign.

  Stairs at the end.

  Darkness… but an exit.

  She looked at Hayate.

  And for a second…

  She didn’t see Hayate.

  She saw her brother.

  Minato.

  She smiled.

  Softly.

  —Hayate.

  He looked at her, still trembling.

  —Take Yūrei and go.

  She pointed at the stairs.

  —Tell Uta about this.

  Silence.

  —What?

  —Now.

  Hayate immediately shook his head.

  —No. No. No, no, no. You stay here and die, is that the part where I run like a useful coward?

  The growls came closer.

  Mitsume stepped toward him.

  Covered his mouth firmly.

  Her eyes were no longer warm.

  They were protective ice.

  —Take care of my brother.

  That broke him.

  Hayate stopped arguing.

  Stopped joking.

  He nodded.

  Bent down.

  Struggled to lift Yūrei’s unconscious body.

  —You’re very brave, you know that?

  But his hands didn’t hesitate.

  He headed for the stairs.

  Step by step.

  Without looking back.

  Because if he did…

  He would stay.

  Mitsume took a deep breath.

  Looked at the bow in her hand.

  Let it fall.

  Then the quiver.

  Her short black leather jacket with studs dropped to the floor.

  The sound was small.

  Final.

  —Bad idea…

  —Bad idea joining Uta…

  She crouched.

  Picked up two long bones from the ground.

  Weighed them.

  Balanced.

  Improvised.

  —And his stupid idea of saving the continent.

  A continent that never saved her.

  At 14…

  She was already a mother.

  A sister.

  A shield.

  Since the Akaryuu murdered her parents.

  She learned to steal.

  To lie.

  To disappear.

  She learned the world doesn’t reward the good.

  It rewards the ones who survive.

  She spun the bones between her fingers.

  Testing reach.

  Testing weight.

  —A stupid place…

  The first Sleeper jumped.

  Mitsume smiled.

  But not sweetly.

  With challenge.

  —Where no one comes to save you.

  She struck.

  Dry.

  Direct to the jaw.

  The first Sleeper fell.

  The second didn’t.

  A slash tore her shoulder open.

  The fabric finished ripping.

  Blood.

  Mitsume stepped back half a step.

  Didn’t scream.

  Exhaled.

  —Good… that’s how we play.

  Three more surrounded her.

  One low.

  One high.

  One flanking.

  And she was alone.

  The first clawed her thigh.

  The second struck her side.

  They pushed her against a column.

  Air left her lungs.

  Real pain.

  She moved.

  Not like a heavy warrior.

  Like a dancer.

  Fluid.

  Elegant.

  Hard to catch.

  She pivoted on her heel.

  One bone shot toward the wall.

  Rebound.

  Impossible angle.

  Impact at a Sleeper’s temple.

  It fell.

  The second bone hit the floor.

  Bounced off a pipe.

  Changed direction.

  Embedded in another’s clavicle.

  Mitsume was already moving before the impact finished.

  Agile like a cat.

  Light steps.

  Silent.

  A Sleeper caught her from behind.

  Its claws tore her skin.

  Another wound.

  More blood.

  Mitsume clenched her teeth.

  —Annoying.

  Twisted her torso.

  Upward strike with the remaining bone straight to the chin.

  Crack.

  Knee to the stomach.

  Lateral displacement.

  Never in a straight line.

  Never predictable.

  Another enemy leap.

  Mitsume crouched.

  Swept the foot.

  The Sleeper lost balance.

  She picked up the bone that had rebounded earlier.

  Without looking.

  Threw it backward.

  Exact impact.

  Center of the skull.

  Her aim was almost perfect.

  But there were many.

  One managed to bite her forearm.

  Hot blood running.

  Another slammed her to the ground.

  Weight crushing her.

  The Sleeper’s jaw descending toward her neck.

  Mitsume twisted her wrist.

  Drove the bone directly into its eye socket.

  Pushed.

  All the way in.

  Shoved it aside with her body.

  Rolled.

  Stood up unsteadily.

  Breathing irregular.

  Pain accumulated.

  But still standing.

  She looked around.

  Calculated.

  Left column.

  High pipe.

  Puddle of water on the floor.

  She smiled.

  Threw one bone at the pipe.

  Rebound into the puddle.

  Water splashed.

  The remaining ones surrounded her.

  More cautious now.

  She rolled her neck slightly.

  Soft crack.

  Smiled with blood at the corner of her lips.

  —Is that all?

  The emergency stairs creaked under weight.

  Hayate gently laid Yūrei’s unconscious body against the wall.

  He took two steps back.

  His hands trembled.

  Scratched his neck.

  Closed his eyes.

  And started crying.

  Just tears falling.

  —I don’t want to do this…

  Flashback — 4 years ago

  The Volkov mansion.

  Cold silence.

  Training in the courtyard.

  Kuro with his back turned.

  Hayate younger.

  Smaller.

  More desperate.

  —Train me.

  Kuro didn’t turn.

  —No.

  —Please.

  —No.

  —Why?!

  Silence.

  Kuro finally spoke.

  —Because it’s not what you need.

  That hurt more than a punch.

  Kuro walked away.

  Without looking back.

  Door closing.

  Later.

  A dirty street.

  Hayate kicking a stone.

  Cursing.

  —Arrogant old man…

  Two shadows blocked the way.

  Krovs.

  Crooked smiles.

  —Look at that.

  —The son of great Volkov.

  —And he looks like a simple brat.

  Hayate stepped back.

  Real fear.

  Tried to push.

  Tried to run.

  The first hit him in the stomach.

  He fell.

  Another punch.

  Tried to cover himself.

  —Come on, defend yourself, heir.

  Laughter.

  Contempt.

  And then—

  The air turned humid.

  Uta appeared in the sky.

  Without looking at Hayate.

  Without asking.

  Just one phrase.

  —Ryūsui Ken.

  Return to the Present

  Hayate’s tears stopped.

  Irregular breathing.

  He looked at Yūrei.

  Then downward.

  Where Mitsume was.

  —No…

  He clenched his fists.

  Hard.

  —No.

  The fear was still there.

  The trembling too.

  But something else was on top now.

  Decision.

  —I don’t want to be like my father…

  Deep breath.

  —But I don’t want to be this either.

  He turned.

  And started running.

  Unsteady steps.

  Broken breathing.

  Hayate went down the stairs almost tripping over himself.

  —AAAH—! MOVE—! THAT DOESN’T SOUND GOOD—! MITSUME GET OUT OF THE WAY—!

  He was shouting nonsense.

  More to drown out fear than to warn.

  Below—

  Mitsume had just blocked another slash with a splintered bone.

  Blood on her arm.

  Heavy breathing.

  She heard the scream.

  Turned.

  Confused.

  —What…?

  The Sleepers also looked.

  Hayate burst into the hallway like a poorly organized storm.

  But something was different.

  His skin vibrated.

  Green streaks ran along his arms.

  Not electrical.

  Vital.

  As if his nervous system was burning.

  His right hand began gathering water.

  First droplets.

  Then spirals.

  Then a compressed rotating vortex.

  His mind remembered.

  The impact.

  The sound.

  The flow.

  The control.

  The fear hadn’t left.

  But now it pushed.

  It didn’t stop him.

  He ran straight toward the horde.

  The Sleepers lunged.

  Mitsume shouted:

  —Are you insane?!

  Hayate didn’t slow down.

  The water spun faster.

  The air grew humid.

  The floor vibrated.

  He positioned himself before the Sleepers.

  And screamed with everything inside him.

  With fear.

  With anger.

  With memory.

  With decision.

  —RYūSUI KEN… HAYATE STYLE!!

  Explosion.

  A compressed torrent burst forward like an unleashed hydraulic cannon.

  Not elegant like Uta.

  Not perfect.

  But brutal.

  The vortex swept the first line of Sleepers.

  Smashed them against columns.

  Crushed them into the ceiling.

  The water wasn’t gentle.

  It was pure pressure.

  It was accumulated force.

  Walls cracked.

  Dust blasted outward.

  Bones on the ground were dragged by the wave.

  Mitsume felt the air impact her face.

  Her eyes widened.

  It wasn’t refined.

  It wasn’t masterful.

  But it was real.

  The last Sleepers fell.

  Silence.

  Only water dripping across the floor.

  Hayate dropped to his knees.

  Steam rising from his arm.

  Trembling.

  Mitsume looked at him.

  Bleeding.

  Barely smiling.

  —You’re an idiot.

  Small pause.

  —But useful.

  Exterior

  Under the tree.

  Uta had the book covering his face.

  He seemed half asleep.

  The explosion made the leaves tremble.

  He didn’t move.

  But he felt it.

  Not the explosion.

  The magic.

  Unstable.

  Disordered.

  But born of decision.

  A faint smile appeared beneath the book.

  —About time…