A cold, clear focus descended upon Yahiko. The world, once a blur of terror and confusion, had sharpened. He could feel the latent life in the forest floor, the sleepy consciousness of the trees, the vibrant energy thrumming in his own veins. This was power. Not the destructive, crimson rage of Akashi, but something generative, something living.
The ice mage regained his footing, his expression a mask of cold annoyance now tinged with open surprise. He eyed the emerald aura flickering around Yahiko.
"Two little mages," the man muttered, his voice like the crackle of frost. "A greater nuisance than projected."
"Yahiko!" Akashi's voice was a sharp, eager crack in the frozen air. A fierce, wild grin was plastered on his face. "You hear that? We're a nuisance. Now kick his ass!"
The command was all the permission Yahiko needed. The memory of Mina—his memory, so newly reclaimed—burned in his mind, fueling his will. He didn't charge blindly. He moved with a purpose Akashi had never seen in him before, his feet sure on the thawed earth.
He threw a punch, not expecting it to land, but to gauge. The mage flowed around it with contemptuous ease.
"You are both a nuisance in our way," the man repeated, his patience clearly spent. He raised his hand, and a new spear of glistening blue ice crystallized from the moisture in the air. He launched it, not at Yahiko, but in a wide arc, aiming to impale him from the side.
But Yahiko was already connected to everything. He felt the disturbance in the air, the intent to kill. He didn't dodge. He raised his own hand, his will a clear, sharp command.
Protect.
The forest itself answered. Thick, woody vines erupted from the thawed soil, weaving into a dense, living shield before him. The ice spear shattered against it, spraying diamond-like shards.
"Controlling the biomass?" the mage mused, a hint of clinical interest in his tone. "A crude application."
He gestured, and a wave of absolute cold radiated out, flash-freezing the vibrant vines. They became brittle, grey, and with a sharp crack, they disintegrated into frozen dust.
Before Yahiko could summon another defense, a soft, melodic ringtone cut through the tension. It was absurd, jarringly normal. The ice mage paused, his killing intent faltering. He pulled a sleek, black communicator from his pocket, his eyes never leaving the two boys.
"Report," he said into it, his voice flat. A pause. His gaze flickered from Akashi's smoldering rage to Yahiko's steady, green-lit resolve. "Understood. The initial survey is complete. The variable has been... documented."
He lowered the communicator. "It seems our work here is done. I have been recalled." He gave a slight, mocking bow. "We will resume this another time."
"Wait!" Yahiko yelled, taking a step forward.
But the mage was already fading, his form dissolving into a shimmering mist that was carried away on a sudden, frigid breeze. In seconds, he was gone, leaving only the lingering chill and the shattered evidence of their battle.
The adrenaline vanished, and the immense weight of the energy he'd channeled left Yahiko in a rush. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping.
"Bro! Are you okay?" Akashi was at his side in an instant, his voice stripped of its earlier fury, replaced by raw concern. He gripped Yahiko's shoulder, his red eyes searching his friend's face.
Yahiko looked up, a weary but genuine smile touching his lips. "Yeah... I'm okay. Just... tired." He drew a deep, shuddering breath, the air clean and cold in his lungs. "But I remember, Akashi. I remember Mina. It's not just because of the Eyes of Death. When that woman attacked me in the alley... her face was the first thing that came to my mind. It's why I was so confused."
Akashi's grip on his shoulder tightened, a complex storm of emotions in his eyes—relief, grief, and a fresh wave of anger. He helped Yahiko to his feet.
"Tell me, Akashi," Yahiko said, his voice low and earnest as he brushed dirt from his jeans. "No more cryptic answers. Who are these people? Why do they want to hunt us? I need to understand clearly."
Akashi let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound carrying the weight of a year of solitary fighting. He looked toward the city, where the smoke still rose. "In simple terms?" he said, his voice a low, bitter rumble. "They want to destroy this world. And then they want to recreate it in their own image."
Yahiko's eyes widened, the calm intelligence in them now warring with sheer, global-scale horror. "What? But... why? What could possibly justify that?"
"How should I know?" Akashi snapped, his anger flaring again, a defense against the unanswerable. "You want a philosophical debate with the guys sending giant eyeballs and ice assassins? Go and ask them yourself if you can get a word in before they try to turn you into dust!"
He turned and began stomping deeper into the forest, away from the city. The dismissal was final.
Yahiko watched his friend's retreating back for a moment, processing the apocalyptic scale of their enemy. Then, with a newfound resolve, he hurried to catch up. "Where are we going now?"
Akashi didn't break his stride, his voice firm and grim. "We're going to my home. Where I found Mina's body for the first time."
The words landed like a physical blow. Yahiko felt his hands grow clammy. He looked at Akashi's profile, set in a mask of hardened grief. "Akashi... are you..." He trailed off, seeing the absolute refusal of comfort in his friend's posture. "Never mind. Let's go. Let's find that killer."
They moved in silence after that, the grim purpose hanging between them. They navigated the outskirts of the city, a landscape now eerily empty, the only sounds the distant wail of sirens and the crunch of their own footsteps. Finally, they arrived at a modest, two-story house. It looked achingly normal, a stark contrast to the memory of violence it contained.
Akashi pushed the door open. The air inside was still and thick with dust.
"From here," Yahiko whispered, stepping over the threshold, "everything started."
Akashi didn't seem to hear him. He walked forward with a zombie-like determination, righted a fallen chair, and pulled the wooden doll from his pocket. "Hakaze," he commanded, his voice echoing in the silent space. "Use your magic now. Find him."
The doll began to glow with a soft, pearlescent light. "O Great Trees of Trees, show the path, show the truth that lies behind all lies!"
As the incantation filled the room, a memory surged to the forefront of Yahiko's mind with painful clarity: Mina, her white hair bright under the sun, dragging him through an amusement park. She was animatedly explaining the plot of a novel series he'd never read, her blue eyes alight with passion. It was that very conversation that had sent him to the library, that had started him reading, trying to understand her world. The memory was so vivid he could almost smell the cotton candy.
While he was lost in the past, the present was transforming. Thin, inky black lines began to appear on the walls, the floor, the ceiling, crawling and weaving like a spider constructing a web of pure shadow.
Hakaze's voice broke the silence. "The tracking magic is active. It will take approximately two hours to triangulate the culprit's location."
A smile, thin and terrifying, stretched across Akashi's face. It held no joy, only the promise of vengeance. "Finally," he breathed, the word a vow. "I will find him. And I will crush him with my own hands."
The two-hour wait was agonizing. The black lines pulsed and shifted, a living map of unseen energies. Akashi paced like a caged animal, while Yahiko sat quietly, testing the feel of his own power, letting it ebb and flow within him, a quiet pool of potential waiting for its shape.
Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the black lines began to recede, flowing like rivers of ink towards the center of the room. They coalesced on the dusty floorboards, forming not a written address, but a detailed, three-dimensional diagram.
It was a structure unlike anything Yahiko had ever seen. A central DOME, vast and imposing, from which extended ten sleek, wing-like protrusions. It looked less like a building and more like a vessel, designed not for the earth, but for the sky.
Akashi stared at the image, his red eyes burning with a terrifying intensity. "I will find this," he swore, his voice low and deadly. "And I will tear it apart, bolt by bolt."
Yahiko, however, looked at the design with a calmer, more analytical eye. His mind, now clear and sharp, processed the geometry, the implications of the wings. It didn't look like a doom; it looked like a command center. An ark.
It looked ready to fly.