The confirmations came before the smoke cleared. Casualties logged. Rebels
eliminated. Civilian losses marked as unavoidable. Rei stood in the debriefing chamber while officers spoke in quiet, efficient voices about lives as if they were numbers on a screen. No one asked how many pieces of himself he had lost inside the burning granary.
Ren remained beside him, silent as stone.
That night, Rei could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the child's scream replayed in perfect clarity. The weight of the beam on the father's body. The fire crawling across the floor. And beneath it all, the steady, hungry pulse of Seraph-0, as if reminding him that the world would not pause for his guilt.
Before dawn, Ren woke him with a strike to the ribs.
"Up," Ren said. "You're late."
They trained in the ruins beyond the compound, where broken buildings cast long shadows and no one listened to screams. Ren did not go easy on him. He never did. Blades flashed. Rei barely blocked in time.
"You hesitate," Ren said coldly. "That's why civilians die."
Rei gritted his teeth and attacked again. Seraph-0 answered faster than before. Too fast. The energy surged without warning and carved through a steel support beam behind Ren. The building shuddered, then collapsed inward with a deafening roar.
Silence followed.
Rei stared at his hands. He hadn't commanded the power. It had moved on its own.
Ren didn't look surprised. "It's learning you."
Rei's stomach dropped.
"It's no longer reacting," Ren continued. "It's predicting. That means your margin for error just vanished." Rei tried to steady his breathing, but something had changed. He could feel it. The Relic's presence was deeper now, no longer confined to his arm. It reached into his chest, his spine, his thoughts.
Later that day, the broadcast screens across the compound came alive. Kazumi Tatsumi stood before a crowd of thousands, his voice calm, warm, almost gentle. He spoke of unity. Of sacrifice. Of ending the chaos caused by rogue Relics and rebel factions.
"We will bring peace," Kazumi said. "Even if peace must be carved from fire."
Rei watched every word. Around him, soldiers nodded in approval. Some even smiled.
Then the announcement came.
A failure in command had allowed a rebel faction to escape a containment city to the south. Dominion Command would respond immediately—with overwhelming force.
Ren stiffened. "They're sending you," he said quietly.The city was still populated. Civilian evacuation had failed. The order was not subtle. It was extermination masked as necessity.Rei felt Seraph-0 pulse, eager.
On the transport, the air was heavy. No one spoke. Through the open ramp, Rei saw towers in the distance, still standing, still full of people who didn't know they were already marked as acceptable losses.
Ren moved closer. "This is what you exist for now," he said. "Do not confuse survival with mercy."
Rei looked at the city and for the first time felt true fear—not of dying, but of what he was becoming.High above, in a secured tower far from the battlefield, Kazumi watched the fleet advance. He had engineered the escape. He had ensured evacuation failed. He had designed the perfect stage for Rei's next evolution."A weapon must learn scale," Kazumi murmured. As the transport doors closed and the engines roared to life, Rei felt something inside Seraph-0 shift again. Not hunger. Not rage.
Intent.
And for the first time since the granary, Rei realized the truth: the Relic was no longer just reacting to the world.
It was preparing for it.