The heavy clang of the cathedral doors echoed through the misty ruins like a war cry of the dead.
Arata's breath was ragged.
His hands trembled, not from fear—
But from something ancient, something monstrous, now waking within.
"What... what did you do to me...?" he gasped, clutching his chest where the black mark had burned itself in.
It pulsed.
Not like a heartbeat, but like a second soul, whispering, watching.
Somewhere above, a church bell rang—
But no wind blew,
And no one lived to ring it.
The silence that followed felt heavier than death.
Arata turned.
Behind him lay the mangled corpse of the man who had struck him moments ago—
A bounty hunter from the southern clans.
His face… was twisted in horror.
But Arata hadn't touched him. Not physically.
Only stared at him when the man had called him—
"Demon child."
"You awakened it, didn't you…"
A voice crept in his mind.
Low.
Chilling.
Like a shadow crawling up his spine.
"You opened the door. Now the abyss will feed."
THUMP.
His knees buckled.
A rush of blood surged to his head—no, not his head.
His eyes.
They burned.
He caught his reflection in a shattered glass pane.
Where once were brown, frightened eyes—
Now stared pale white orbs rimmed with black veins.
And in them danced something… unholy.
Footsteps.
Arata snapped his head up.
Six men entered through the cathedral doors—
All armed.
All bearing the mark of the kingdom's elite enforcers.
One of them raised a torch.
The others raised swords.
"That's the boy."
"He killed Einar."
"Monster spawn of House Yukimura."
"Surround him. End this before it spreads."
They moved swiftly, like predators.
But Arata didn't back down.
Not this time.
He stood, body trembling, arms limp.
But the darkness inside him was no longer dormant.
"I didn't want this…"
His voice cracked.
"I didn't want any of this!!"
"No… you called it."
That voice again. From within.
"Or maybe... you were always meant to burn."
One soldier lunged.
Steel aimed for his neck.
And then—time slowed.
The sword paused mid-air.
The air itself began to ripple like disturbed water.
Arata didn't move.
But something else did.
SHHHHHHRK—!
Out from the black veins crawling his arms,
rose a dark mist that screeched like crows and solidified into a blade.
A blade of bone.
The attacker's eyes widened—too late.
SLASH!
His head rolled.
Screams.
Chaos.
Blood.
Arata watched blankly as the other soldiers fell one by one—
Not by his hands,
But by a shadow that moved faster than thought.
When it was over, only one man remained.
The torch-bearer.
He fell to his knees.
"Wh-What are you...?"
he whispered, dropping his weapon.
Arata stepped forward, the bone blade dissolving into black mist.
He stared down at the man.
"I… I don't know anymore."
Suddenly—
A loud BOOM!
The cathedral wall exploded inward.
Flames. Smoke.
A silhouette appeared through the dust…
Clad in black armor, with a golden sigil on his chest.
The man's voice cut through the air like a guillotine.
"By order of the Imperial Crown, Arata Yukimura… you are hereby sentenced to execution."
The soldier who had knelt cried out:
"No! He's—he's just a boy—"
SHUNK!
A spear pierced his chest.
Blood sprayed across Arata's face.
The armored man stepped forward.
"No mercy for Corpsebound."
"No mercy for the Abyssborn."
The flames reflected in Arata's pale eyes.
"Abyssborn…?"
The word echoed.
It felt right.
Too right.
His vision blurred.
But the last thing he saw before falling to the ground—
Was the armored figure turning away,
muttering to his comms device:
The spawn has awakened. We need the Death Choir. Now."
Somewhere else... in a distant, cursed vault beneath the capital
A pale girl with silver eyes opened her book.
A single line glowed on the page:
"The Child of the Abyss has risen."
She smiled.
"Let the world burn again."