Shingen finally burst into a large hall — the kind the orphanage used for performances and festivals. But something felt wrong. It wasn't supposed to be here. The geography of the place had been completely distorted. Rooms didn't lead where they should. Hallways bent into themselves. And this event hall? It had just appeared.
Panting, Shingen scanned the space, looking for an escape path, but he already knew what was coming. The scratching, slithering noises he'd been hearing were growing louder by the second.
With a loud creak, the hall's massive doors swung open, and a flood of grotesque little figures came spilling in. His stomach turned. They were the same malformed, childlike ghosts he'd fought before — only this time, there were more of them. Dozens. Maybe a hundred.
They screeched and chattered in distorted voices, crawling over each other in a tide of limbs and hollow eyes, and Shingen's breath caught for just a second.
"I'll clear as many as I can," he muttered through clenched teeth. "There's no exit anyway. If I start running on fumes, I'll just hide."
He launched forward, fists crackling faintly with Psychic Power. He moved like a blur, slamming down creatures with brutal precision. One, two, six, twelve—gone. But they kept coming. Endless.
Realizing it was impossible to beat them all without burning himself out, Shingen pulled back. With a quick pivot, he ducked low and darted through the gaps between the frozen, shivering monsters. He didn't stop running until their cries faded behind him. By the time they regained their senses, he was long gone.
As he crept down another warped hallway, something stirred in the air — a low, distant sound. His ears perked up. "Hmm? What's that?" he murmured, pausing.
It stopped. Silence.
But then came a tremor — heavy, deep, like a building collapsing nearby. The floor beneath his feet vibrated faintly. "And… that's close. Too close. Should I check it out?" He hesitated, but only for a second. "If there's a way out, I need to take it."
Cautiously, he headed toward the source. But what he saw nearly made him curse out loud.
A massive creature was moving in the distance — not just big, it's Titanic. It resembled a grotesque infant, its body bloated and misshapen, its skin pale and patchy like old wax. Its eyes were gaping voids, and its mouth, sewn shut with blackened thread, still groaned with haunting sobs as it dragged its body forward.
Shingen's heart thudded in his chest. The monster was heading toward a nearby structure — a small building barely standing amid the chaos. And there, inside, someone was running.
"There's someone still alive in there?" His fists clenched. The thought of someone else being trapped here and vulnerable — lit a spark in his chest.
The massive creature slammed into the building, tearing walls apart like paper. Its huge hand reached in and pulled someone out — a woman, kicking and screaming as she was lifted helplessly toward the gaping maw embedded in the creature's abdomen.
Shingen's eyes widened. "That's… Nanao-san!"
Nanao Ogawa.He knew her well. A kind staff member at the orphanage — someone who had never treated the children like burdens. Warm, patient, always with a smile. And now she was screaming in terror, being dragged toward death.
"Damn it, put her down!" he shouted, grabbing a broken piece of concrete from the wreckage and hurling it at the monster with all his might. The rock hit its side with a dull thud — completely ineffective.
Still running, Shingen watched, helpless, as Nanao Ogawa was consumed by the monster's grotesque maw.
The fury that erupted in him was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Grief, rage, powerlessness — all boiling into a single overwhelming wave.
If only he were stronger. If only he could do more than punch and kick. If only—
Wait.
His Psychic Power — could he use it directly? He'd always channeled it into his body, but what if he fired it outward? Could it hurt something that size?
He had tried it before. The results were weak. But now — something inside him was different. He could feel the energy inside him overflowing, without restraint or limit.
Focusing everything he had, he pushed the power into his right arm. The energy trembled through his bones as he held his wrist steady with his left hand, aiming it like a cannon.
The monster had noticed him. It turned. Despite its size, it moved quickly. In seconds, it would be on him.
Shingen steadied his stance and shouted, "Die!"
A blinding flash of blue light burst from his palm.
Time slowed.
The creature stopped mid-charge.
Its upper body twisted — then crumbled. A circular wound had torn straight through it and the building behind it, as if pierced by a colossal invisible drill. Debris hung in the air for a split second before reality caught up.
From the collapsing beast, a figure dropped to the ground — Nanao Ogawa. She wasn't bleeding. No visible injuries. But she wasn't waking up either.
Shingen's vision blurred. His legs nearly gave out beneath him. He fought to stay standing, wiping sweat from his brow. The monster writhed on the ground, trying to rise with what limbs it still had — but it couldn't. The blast had crippled it.
Weirdly, he wasn't empty. His energy was regenerating fast — unnaturally fast. It made no sense. But it gave him just enough strength to keep going.
He took a step forward. Something inside him felt… off. He was furious, and yet…it's also calm.Terrifyingly calm.
It was like being two people at once — one raging, the other watching. He knew it wasn't normal. But it felt natural.
He kept walking, the monster crawling helplessly toward him. His right hand began to glow again, this time brighter — blacker. Psychic Power surged to it, forming a dense, flickering like flame.
A thought, dark and undeniable, pulsed through him like a drumbeat. Kill it.
He didn't question it.
He raised his small, trembling fist — an almost laughable image, if not for the swirling black flame wrapped around it. To anyone watching, it might've looked ridiculous. But anyone with even a trace of spiritual sense would see the power condensing there, coiling like a serpent around his knuckles.
As he punched, the world slowed once more. Every muscle, every tendon in his body aligned. He could feel the energy shift with his movement. Psychic Power and instinct merged.
Breathing — that's what it felt like. Just like breathing.
There was no more resistance. The energy wasn't obeying him. It was part of him.
His fist landed on the monster's head — and the black flame didn't explode. It erased. Clean, quiet destruction.
The creature's body disintegrated on contact, inch by inch. The earth beneath it split apart, the roar of its collapse louder than thunder. Shingen didn't flinch.
When the silence finally returned, his fury ebbed with it. He let the energy go.
Exhaustion hit him like a truck. He dropped to the ground, breathing hard, his right hand burning. The pain was sharp, raw — but it meant he was alive.
Then came footsteps. Crisp and unhurried.
He looked up, instinctively on guard — until he saw her.
A graceful silhouette emerged from the shadows. She had long white hair tied in a sleek ponytail, and a sharp black uniform that clung to her tall figure like armor. Confident, effortless elegance.
She wasn't a monster. That much was obvious. But she looked… familiar.
Before he could speak, the woman stopped a few paces away, tilted her head slightly, and looked at him with a mix of confusion and disbelief.
"You can call me Mei Mei, little one," she said, her voice smooth, low, almost musical. "Why are you here? Have you seen anyone else?"
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
Word Count:1,295