The next morning, the ruins of Sanctuary Plum Blossom were still smoldering. Fog and blood mingled in the morning air, spreading a bitter aroma that constricted the chest. In the midst of the remnants of the duel, two bodies lay motionless—Shigure, the last samurai of Yamato who had now become a legend, and Lyssa Marrow, the treacherous poison whose name would be whispered as a curse and a warning.
In the distance, an unseen observer, Kaito, stood hunched behind the debris. With a pounding heart, he contemplated his choices. Kaito was one of Lyssa's followers, but now he had to face the bitter reality of death that was shaking his soul. "Was all this sacrifice in vain?" he murmured, gazing at the two lifeless bodies.
News of their duel spread faster than lightning. Some said Shigure had defeated the demon without hesitation; others whispered that Lyssa had sown death even after her heart had stopped beating. But one thing was certain: there were no winners that night, only a legacy of vengeance and fear. Every rumor that circulated was like shards of glass, piercing the soul of everyone who heard it.
Earth – Five Pillars of Dominion At the front headquarters of Earth, Bronn gazed toward the sanctuary from atop a hill, his jaw tightening. In his mind, the image of Lyssa flashed, her deceitful face now transformed into a symbol of betrayal. "If not me, perhaps someone out there will exploit her death," he said quietly, realizing how harsh this world was.
"They slaughter each other before we intervene. The inhabitants of the ruins no longer need enemies from outside. Only time separates them from total destruction."
General Lira reviewed reports from the spies: One spy delivered a report with a worried tone, "Lyssa's death may ignite a spirit of revenge among those who loved her." Lira pressed her index finger to her rational side, unwilling to get caught up in dangerous emotions.
"Lyssa was our tool. But humans like Shigure, who are willing to die for honor, are enemies we will never truly conquer. Prepare new orders—do not give them time to mourn."
In the silence, Ben, a young soldier who had just witnessed the horrors of that night, felt his heart torn. "Must I then choose between defending our cause or remembering the virtues of those who have fallen?" he said to himself, his hands trembling as he thought about his fate ahead. Would all this change him forever?
Valen, holding the angel's eraser glyph in his hand, added, "Lyssa's death has disrupted our spy network in the Sanctuary. But these vengeful souls are easy to manipulate. Send agents among the panicked protectors; break them from within."
Akiko, still holding the blood-stained cloth of Shigure, knelt for a long time at the altar, her gaze vacant. A tear rolled down her cheek, creating a damp trail among the shards of bitter memories that enveloped her heart. Sabina stood beside her, sheathing her sword, her eyes wet. She grasped Akiko's arm and felt the tension vibrating between them, as if they were both trying to hold back the emotional storm that was ready to destroy everything.
"We lost hope and our protector in one night."
Luria and Miel whispered to each other in the dark, watching the shadows dance on the wall. Luria hissed, "What will we do next? We cannot let Lyssa die in vain." Miel bit her lip, worrying about the state of the outside world. She remembered Lyssa, always ready to protect, her spirit inspiring them all.
"Is there still any point in holding on? Every night, a new name disappears. Every morning, the sky grows redder."
In the basement, the remaining protectors began to distrust each other. Lyssa's death revealed many secret letters: some of the remaining protectors had been extorted or threatened, creating a network of distrust that further eroded their morale. One protector, Ryo, crumpled a piece of paper in his hand, his face angry. "We cannot let them dominate us," he shouted, "each of us must choose a side!"
"Is there still any point in holding on? Every night, a new name disappears. Every morning, the sky grows redder."
In the basement, the remaining protectors began to distrust each other. Lyssa's death revealed many secret letters: some of the remaining protectors had been extorted or threatened, with some writing the names of other protectors as potential victims of the next betrayal. Fear crept in, and the seeds of treachery grew among the remnants of solidarity. A heavy sigh echoed from a dark corner, hinting at deep despair, as one protector, Darius, shifted his wooden chair and whispered, "We are no longer a unity, just remnants of hope that are shattered."
Joanna sat beneath the scorched plum tree, her wings tightly closed, her face bowed in meditation. The tested fragility of her soul made her gather all the remaining strength. Ariel stood beside her, whispering observations from above. She felt the weight of the burden Joanna carried, a burden that could crush even an angel.
"We are starting to lose control. Humans no longer believe in the sky. Even the most sacred protectors distrust each other."
Joanna responded softly, her eyes glistening with sorrow, "That is the curse of war: humans kill faster than the light of angels can heal." A moment of silence hung between them, and that silence was pierced by another voice from afar, a sharp allure from one of the protectors, "We are here to be given hope, but that hope has now become a sword that stabs from within."
Zadkiel and Remiel debated in the shadows, embodying two sides of a larger conflict. Remiel, in a calmer tone, said, "If Joanna fails, who will lead the redemption? Are we just waiting for their destruction?" This question hung in the air, and the burden of hope rested on Joanna's shoulders, waiting for an answer that was becoming increasingly difficult to find.
"If Joanna fails, who will lead the redemption? Are we just waiting for their destruction?"
Sanctuary Underground
The tension between the protectors and the people of Oda/Gaia was becoming increasingly fragile. Every sharp glance was like a weapon, signaling that trust was no longer present. A sense of anxiety enveloped them, like a thick fog on a sorrowful morning.
Akiko wanted revenge on Earth, regardless of whether she had to die. With every step, she felt the weight of deep sorrow from losing her friends. Her mind was filled with accusations, "Why must the strongest be the ones to go?" She was determined not to let their sacrifices be in vain.
Sabina wanted to take the remaining children to a safer place, far from a world full of vengeance. With every passing second, she heard the roar of anger and sorrow, making her wonder if that safe place still existed. "Where can we go?" she thought in doubt, as if finding no hope in the midst of this emptiness.
Miel began to question Joanna's leadership and the angels, even considering defecting if a peaceful path opened up. He felt trapped in his inner war, between loyalty to his friends and fear of the future. Miel weighed the risks and possibilities, "Are we worthy of fighting for an uncertain life?" he said to himself in deep doubt.
A small conflict erupted: Luria accused Akiko of being a "bringer of death," as her despair inspired the young protectors to commit suicide rather than endure. Luria felt regret filling the cavity of her heart; she wanted to protect everyone, but now she only saw destruction ahead.
Akiko retorted, "Only death is fair for traitors and cowards." Her voice broke, filled with a burning hatred; as if she was speaking not only for Luria but also for herself, who continued to battle with shame and regret. It was extraordinary how anger could be both a protector and an attacker within her soul.
Sabina separated the two, feeling the tension boiling over like the eruption of magma from a volcano ready to explode. She quickly grabbed Akiko's arm, "We don't have time to hurt each other! Now is the time to unite, not to destroy!"
"If we keep killing each other, we won't need Earth or angels to finish us off. Our names will be erased before our bodies."
Shigure's death created two legends:
For the children of Oda/Yamato, Shigure was a hero—a name that would become a legacy of resistance for the new generation, even though the blood had not yet dried on the sanctuary floor. However, in a dark corner of the room, some children looked at each other in fear, doubting the hero they were supposed to remember. "Will we also end up like him?" whispered one of them, their voice barely audible. Empty gazes enveloped those young faces, adding to the weight of sorrow hanging in the air.
For the young protectors of Gaia, Lyssa's death was a warning: betrayal comes at a high price, but sometimes it is the traitors who survive the longest before their downfall. In the crowd, a protector reflected, recalling moments when he was almost tempted to betray for his own safety. He looked at his comrades, feeling the division and doubt gnawing at their spirits, and said, "Can we trust each other again?" The atmosphere grew tense as many could not answer, their fear revealed in every doubt.
The people began to whisper new stories:
Some believed Shigure's spirit was wandering, seeking revenge on a starless night. "I can feel it," said an old man with shining eyes, standing in the midst of the crowd. "He will come for us. We must be ready for anything." Those words ignited a fire of attention, and it seemed the entire town fell silent for a moment, waiting for the arrival of a figure they had never seen.
Some spread the "Poison Prayer"—a cursed litany from Lyssa to eliminate the traitors among them. However, in another corner, a woman known as a loyal supporter of Lyssa looked on in sorrow. "Why must we use hatred to seek revenge? Justice must come from love," she said with a trembling voice, surrounded by skeptical eyes demanding clarity and solutions.
That night, Joanna gathered all the protectors, angels, and some of the people who could still stand. She spoke softly yet firmly: "We stand on the brink of emptiness. Every choice has shaped us today. Our duty is not only to survive but also to protect what remains."
"The world has changed. You are free to choose: stand with us, trust the last light of the sky, or walk alone seeking a peaceful path beyond the old spiral. But one thing must be remembered: anyone who betrays the oath tonight will find no forgiveness—from the sky, nor from the earth."
The atmosphere froze. Some bowed their heads, some cursed, while others held back tears. In a corner of the room, Aiko bit her lip, trying to suppress the scream of sorrow that threatened to explode. She remembered the beautiful moments with Lyssa, how they laughed under the moonlight, making promises not to let fear take over them. Now, everything seemed shattered.
Joanna concluded, "Tomorrow morning, whoever wants to leave, may go. But if you stay, stay with purpose, not with fear."
Outside, the sky remained dark—no stars, only the ashes of the remnants of the fire. Inside, grief and vengeance became the cloak of night that burdened the shoulders of every protector and angel. No one knew who would survive until dawn, or who would become the new legend—or the next curse. Many wondered about their choices, feeling the tension lodged in their throats, afraid to speak, yet all understood that the road ahead would grow darker.
A small voice was heard among the young protectors: "If Shigure died for honor, and Lyssa died to survive, what are we living for? What can we give to a world that has already rejected us?"
That answer had yet to arrive, even as the dawn began to crawl behind the blood fog. Rahmi stood by, eyes closed, feeling sorrow flood her heart. In silence, she stole a glance at him, as if searching for answers in the darkness of the future. Could they look into the eyes of their predecessors who had now departed and find a reason to continue? Or was all hope now just a faded shadow waiting to be forgotten?