Korven raised his head, barely conscious. But his voice was clear.
"Agito."
A breath.
"Go get him."
Agito ran—straight into it.
Again.
Sand in his mouth. Ash in his lungs. Wind screaming past his ears as the desert blurred around him.
"How many fucking times…" he muttered under his breath.
Enma's voice slithered into his mind. Mocking.
"Maybe drink less."
He gritted his teeth.
"Maybe shut the fuck up."
He pressed forward. Veyrath was ahead, moving fast but carelessly. His tracks were clear. Easy to read. Desperate.
Agito followed through broken paths and scattered bones.
Down into the dark. Into stone.
The air grew colder. Darker.
The tunnel sloped downward. Walls became smooth—unnatural. Machines hummed behind them, hidden wires pulsing with soft blue and red light.
A whisper of movement—
Too late.
A Grinder leapt from the dark.
Agito cut it midair. Its head hit the floor before the rest of its body realized it was dead.
Another hissed, attacking low—blade to its throat.
A third dropped from above.
Agito spun.
One slash—both legs severed.
Another—spine split.
Three dead.
No hesitation.
He moved deeper.
The temperature dropped again. Moisture clung to the walls. Power cables pulsed, alive.
At last—
He saw it.
A cavern.
Not natural.
Red and blue light ran like veins through metal walls. Screens flickered. Wires crawled across the floor like roots.
At the center—a pulsating mass of machinery, glowing like a heart.
Before it stood Veyrath.
He stood like a priest at an altar.
But his god was long dead—and all he had left was blood.
Not broken. Not afraid.
Smiling.
Agito stepped forward, breath steady.
"Game's over, preacher."
Veyrath turned, gaze glowing crimson. No fear in that stare.
Only certainty.
"You still don't understand, do you, Agito?" he said. "This isn't the end. It's the beginning."
He raised his hands.
Skin split. Blood oozed out—but didn't fall. It floated, circling his body like satellites. He whispered a single phrase:
"Noroi."
[1]"Chi no Seisan."
The chamber trembled.
WHOOSH!
A crimson wave pulsed from Veyrath, flooding the space with scorching heat and raw, violent power.
His veins lit up, eyes blazing fiercely. Blood condensed around him, forming blades, shields, armor.
Agito narrowed his eye.
"…A curse?"
Veyrath's grin widened.
"Surprised, Exarch? Maybe now… you'll show yours."
Agito snorted and spat to the side.
"For trash like you? Not worth it."
And he charged.
Steel sang.
Veyrath moved inhumanly fast—dodging, weaving, striking. Agito's blade missed—barely. Scarlet lashed out in response, slicing through stone.
Block. Dodge. Step in. Cut.
But every time the katana found flesh, blood hardened instantly. Wounds sealed before they could bleed.
"You can't harm me," Veyrath said, almost pitying. "My blood protects me."
He raised both hands. A chalice of blood formed between them.
The air grew thick. Agito could feel it—power building, memories surfacing.
Veyrath drank deeply.
The light around him deepened. Muscles swelled. Aura flared.
He lunged. Faster now.
Agito barely deflected the strike.
A flash erupted in his mind—razor-sharp claws ripping through his throat.
His cursed eye flared painfully beneath the patch. Death Foreseen.
Not yet.
A second attack. Another vision—crimson blade piercing through his ribs.
He dodged again—just enough.
Veyrath's strikes intensified, wild and chaotic. Each blow came faster, harder.
"Stand still, damn you!" Veyrath growled, frustration seeping into his voice.
A third strike came.
No vision.
Enma was silent.
Agito felt it—the edge of death closing in. His body strained. Muscles burned. Exhaustion clawed at him.
Veyrath grinned hungrily, hands trembling with anticipation. He lifted the chalice once more—and Agito saw it clearly:
A flash, but not of battle. Of memory.
Candles. Incense. Hundreds of gazes fixed in reverence.
A cathedral.
Veyrath, clad in white robes, raising a golden chalice high. His voice echoing softly:
"Take this, all of you, and drink from it. This is the cup of my blood, the new and eternal covenant…"
He had been a priest once.
And now?
Now the chalice was his own blood. He drank again.
Power surged uncontrollably. His hands shook. Vision blurred.
Agito's gaze flicked sharply.
And he understood.
This curse wasn't a gift. It was poison.
"You really are a fucking idiot," Agito said softly.
Veyrath blinked.
"What?"
"You think Noroi makes you powerful?" Agito stepped forward, blade ready. "It doesn't give. It takes."
He continued, voice colder, sharper.
"It's a sentence. You don't control it. You survive it."
Another step closer.
"Born from pain. Fed by loss. It burns you from the inside until you break."
"You thought you became a god?" Agito laughed bitterly. "You're nothing but another corpse waiting to happen."
Veyrath screamed in fury and charged. Blood sharpened instantly into claws, extending toward Agito.
Agito blocked the first blow, narrowly deflected the second—then a sudden whisper filled his mind:
"Left."
Whispers of Enma. He reacted instantly, sidestepping as Veyrath's blade passed harmlessly.
"Behind you."
He spun, deflecting another strike aimed at his spine.
Veyrath roared in frustration, attacks becoming frantic, reckless.
"Why can't I hit you?!"
Agito didn't reply. He waited, breathing steady, patient as death.
Silence descended briefly.
Then—
Another flash.
A path.
His cursed eye blazed beneath the patch. He saw the line. The only line.
One second. One heartbeat. Now or never.
He breathed in deeply—and moved.
[2]"Jiretsuzan!"
Time distorted subtly around Agito's blade, warping the air as it sliced forward. Veyrath hesitated for a fraction of a second, unable to comprehend what was happening until it was too late.
Steel passed effortlessly through flesh.
Agito stopped behind him, katana extended.
Veyrath stood motionless.
Slowly, his gaze dropped. A thin, black line opened across his chest. Skin cracked—
and gore erupted violently.
Too fast.
Too perfect.
Too final.
Veyrath staggered.
Agito reversed his grip on the katana, turning slowly.
"Already told you," he muttered calmly. "You lost."
He drove the blade forcefully through Veyrath's chest, pinning him straight into the humming machine behind him.
The room froze.
A strange sound filled the chamber. The core beneath began pulsing erratically, angrily. Agito glanced down—his sword was embedded deeply in something alive, something reacting fiercely.
"…Oh, fuck."
A heartbeat later—
BOOM!
The core shrieked in rage. Walls shuddered violently. Pipes burst, cables tore loose, sparks erupted chaotically.
Agito yanked his sword free.
He ran.
Behind him, the machine howled furiously. The floor split open, red light spilling outward like a dying heart. Consoles exploded one after another. The ceiling collapsed, massive chunks of stone crashing just inches behind him, dust and heat chasing him relentlessly.
"Agito! Wake up!" Enma's voice screamed sharply in his mind.
"What the fuck?!" Agito snapped aloud, adrenaline surging again, legs pumping harder.
The tunnel shuddered violently.
Another explosion roared behind him.
Agito dove desperately through the collapsing doorway just as the entire chamber imploded behind him, blasting sand and fire into the desert sky.
Silence fell abruptly.
Agito lay sprawled on his back, coughing dust, katana still clutched tightly. He blinked slowly, vision clearing.
Above stretched the open sky. Not the shimmer of the barrier, not filtered containment light.
Real sky.
Vast. Endless.
Slowly, he sat up. Every muscle ached, wounds stung, lungs burned. Blood dried on his arms, smoke clung stubbornly to his clothes.
But he was alive.
Barely.
He stared upward again, frowning deeply.
This wasn't victory. It was aftermath.
„…You've gotta be kidding me."
The sky wasn't just open—it was fractured. Reality had torn itself apart, spilling out secrets mortals were never meant to glimpse, truths that burned like frostbite at the edges of his sanity.
Light spilled across the horizon, sharp and unnatural, as though reality itself had torn open too far. The shadows deepened. The colors… twisted.
He saw them.
Six massive shapes, hovering in the dark beyond the clouds.
Planets. Actual fucking planets.
Not stars. Not illusions. Not sensor errors.
Planets.
The first—gold and gleaming, its surface wrapped in shimmering mist.
The second—purple-blue, circled by spiraling clouds like serpents.
The third—silver and still, glowing with faint auroras.
The fourth—green and blue, Earth-like, oceans and cloud fronts visible even from here.
The fifth—red and raw, wrapped in a haze of stormy violence.
The sixth—black. So black it swallowed the stars.
Six new gods watching me bleed. His heart hammered painfully—this wasn't just strange. It was impossible. Yet somehow, he knew the impossible was just starting.
[1] Blood Reckoning
[2] Chrono Slash