The ruins still smoldered, a silent graveyard where the echoes of battle lingered long after the flames had died. The air smelled of burnt iron and charred flesh, carried by the wind like a cruel reminder of what had been lost. Reiji stood amidst the wreckage, his shadow stretched unnaturally against the pale moonlight. The silence felt heavier than screams.
He had seen destruction before, but this was different. This was not merely a battlefield—it was a warning. The enemy had left nothing behind but ashes, as if to erase the very memory of those who had lived here. The walls were blackened skeletons of houses, streets carved with scars of molten stone, and in the center of it all was a single sigil etched into the ground: a spiral of knives, bleeding into the dirt.
Reiji crouched beside the mark, his fingers tracing the grooves. Cold. Deliberate. This was not random slaughter; it was a message. He could almost hear their voices, whispers tangled in the smoke, mocking him.
"We are coming. We are already here."
Behind him, Kaede's footsteps approached, crunching softly on broken glass. "They burned everything," she said, her voice caught between horror and rage. "Not even the children were spared. What kind of monsters do this?"
Reiji didn't answer immediately. His hand lingered on the sigil, and for a brief moment he felt a sharp sting, like a blade pressing into his skin. He pulled away quickly. "Not monsters," he finally replied, his tone low. "Humans. And that makes them far worse."
Kaede's fists tightened. "Then humans like that deserve nothing but the same."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Somewhere beyond the ruins, faint cries of survivors could be heard—distant, broken, fading. Reiji turned toward the sound, but his body froze. He could feel it—eyes watching, hidden in the dark. The weight of a predator's gaze, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"Stay alert," Reiji murmured, his hand slipping toward the hilt of his blade.
Kaede instinctively moved closer, scanning the ruins with sharp eyes. "You sense it too?"
"Yes. Shadows that don't belong to this night."
The wind shifted, carrying with it a faint laughter, twisted and hollow. Then came the whispers—fragmented words, overlapping like a thousand voices speaking in unison. They seeped from the cracks in the ruined walls, from the empty windows, from the darkness itself.
"Ashes… ashes… all will return to ashes."
Kaede shuddered, gripping her weapon tighter. "What the hell is this?"
Reiji stepped forward, his voice steady but edged with steel. "It's not an illusion. They're testing us. Playing with us." He raised his blade, eyes narrowing at the shifting dark. "But shadows can bleed too."
Suddenly, the whispers stopped. The silence hit harder than the noise. And then, from the corner of the ruins, a figure emerged—slow, deliberate, cloaked in black. Its mask gleamed under the moonlight, carved with the same spiral sigil. Behind it, more shapes unfolded from the rubble, like shadows peeling away from the world itself.
Kaede hissed, stepping back instinctively. "How many…?"
"Enough," Reiji muttered. His muscles tensed, but his mind remained calm. He knew this wasn't the real fight. This was only the beginning.
The masked figure raised a hand, pointing at Reiji. The whispers returned, louder this time, all voices chanting the same words.
"The shadow must break. The shadow must bleed. The shadow must fall."
And then they rushed forward.
The first strike was fast, almost invisible, but Reiji caught it, his blade meeting theirs in a clash of sparks. Kaede moved beside him, slashing down another figure, only for it to vanish into smoke. Every enemy they cut down dissolved into ash, reforming in the distance, as if the ruins themselves were birthing them endlessly.
"They're not real," Reiji shouted, parrying another strike. "They're fragments—echoes tied to this place."
"Then how the hell do we kill what's not real?" Kaede spat, sweat on her brow as she slashed through another phantom.
Reiji's eyes darted toward the sigil in the ground, still glowing faintly with crimson light. "The mark. They're feeding from it. Destroy that, and we break their hold."
Kaede didn't hesitate. She darted toward the center, her steps swift as lightning. The phantoms surged toward her, but Reiji intercepted, his movements precise, blade cutting arcs of silver in the dark. Each strike bought her seconds, and every second was precious.
Kaede reached the sigil, her weapon raised high. With a sharp cry, she drove it into the ground. The earth trembled, the spiral cracking under the force. A piercing scream erupted from all directions, the phantoms clutching at their masks before exploding into dust.
And then—silence again.
Kaede fell to her knees, panting heavily, her blade buried in the earth. Reiji stood still, scanning the ruins, waiting for another attack. But nothing came. Only the faint glow of the moon remained, washing over the broken village.
"They're gone," Kaede breathed, her voice shaky. "For now."
Reiji walked toward her, his eyes cold, yet thoughtful. "Not gone. Only scattered. They'll return, and when they do… they'll be stronger." He looked down at the shattered sigil, the cracks still bleeding faint light. "This wasn't the war. It was the whisper before the fire."
Kaede met his gaze, fear flickering behind her determination. "Then what do we do now?"
Reiji turned toward the horizon, where smoke still rose in the distance. "We move. Before the ashes turn into something worse."
And with that, the two shadows disappeared into the night, leaving the ruins behind—silent, smoldering, and waiting.