The late afternoon sun cast long, weary shadows as Ren and Itami walked home. The weight of the cafeteria confrontation pressed heavily on Ren, a chilling reality beneath the mundane hum of Tokyo's suburban streets. He knew Valerius was here, that the game had indeed begun anew. The air, usually just humid with the summer's warmth, now felt charged, faintly metallic, like before a severe electrical storm. Ren's ancient instincts, honed by a lifetime of anticipating threats, screamed.
"You're still quiet, Ren," Itami observed, adjusting his school bag. They were navigating a familiar route, past neat residential homes with small, manicured gardens.
"That whole chess thing with Hiroshi really got to you, huh? You wiped the floor with him, you know."
"He is more than just a chess player, Itami," Ren murmured, his eyes scanning every shadow, every gate, every seemingly innocuous detail of their surroundings. The usual after-school chatter of students had thinned considerably, and the houses seemed hushed, their windows like vacant eyes.
"More than a chess player? What, like he's secretly a yakuza boss?" Itami chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood, but the tension radiating from Ren was palpable.
"Influence," Ren said, ignoring the joke. "He controls perception, the narrative. A valuable asset in any court." He paused, his gaze fixed on a cluster of overgrown hedges ahead. A subtle shift, a ripple in the air. "Stay close." His hand instinctively went for the hilt of a katana that wasn't there.
"What is it, Ren?" Itami asked, his voice now genuinely nervous, picking up on Ren's sudden, cold focus.
Then they appeared. Not stepping from the shadows, but as if the shadows themselves coalesced from the deepening twilight. Three figures, indistinct at first, then solidifying into hulking, dark-clad forms that blocked their path on the quiet residential street. They weren't dressed like students. Their clothes were coarse, their posture unnaturally rigid, and their faces were obscured by the deepening twilight, but Ren felt their presence like a physical blow. Their movements were too fluid, too unnatural, lacking the casual clumsiness of ordinary people. They were the awakened, those touched and twisted by Valerius's insidious influence.
"Kaelen," one of them rasped, a voice like gravel grinding on stone. No, not a single voice, but a chorus of them, layered and guttural, echoing with an ancient malevolence that raised goosebumps on Ren's arms. "The Lord Valerius sends his regards."
Ren's heart hammered against his ribs, but a strange, terrifying calm settled over him. This was it. The game had begun in earnest. These weren't mere delinquents. These were enemies. "Itami, run!" he barked, shoving his friend hard behind him.
"No way, Ren! I'm not leaving you!" Itami stammered, fumbling for his phone, probably to call for help, but Ren knew it would be useless. This was beyond the reach of this world's authorities.
The first attacker lunged, a blur of dark cloth and unnatural speed. Ren, relying purely on instinct and muscle memory honed over a lifetime of combat, sidestepped just in time, the dark figure narrowly missing him. He feinted left, forcing the attacker off balance, and drove a rigid elbow into their midsection. It connected with a sickening thud, but the figure barely flinched, its movement more akin to a reanimated corpse than a living person.
They feel no pain, Ren realized with a chilling certainty. His martial prowess, honed by years of training and imperial combat, was designed for human foes. It was ill-equipped for this. He blocked a sweeping kick, the force jarring his arm, and then ducked under a wild, clawing strike. His movements were precise, economical, but he lacked the raw power, the arcane might that used to flow through him.
Itami, seeing Ren in grave danger, desperately tried to help. He swung his heavy school bag, catching one of the shadowy figures across the back, but it merely staggered, turning its head slowly, its obscured face devoid of expression, yet radiating menace.
Itami yelled, scrambling back as another assailant moved towards him. He tried to throw a textbook, then kick, but his efforts were clumsy, ineffective, proving nothing against the relentless assault. His face was a mask of terror, his attempts futile.
Ren fought with a desperate ferocity, a cornered lion in a trap. He dodged, weaved, and struck, focusing on weak points he knew on a human body – the knees, the throat, the solar plexus. But these weren't fully human. Their resilience was terrifying. One of them caught his arm, its grip like iron bands, and twisted. A searing pain shot up Ren's limb, a stark reminder of his fragile, mortal body. He gritted his teeth, forcing a counter-move, but they were too many, too strong.
He felt another blow to his side, sending him stumbling back against a wooden fence, knocking the wind from him. His vision swam. They closed in, their forms blurring at the edges, a suffocating presence of malevolence. He heard Itami cry out, a sound of pure panic. Ren pushed himself forward, every muscle screaming in protest, desperate to reach his friend. He wouldn't let Valerius take another one. They were almost defeated.
Just as the shadowy figures coiled to deliver a final, crushing blow, a sudden, blinding flash erupted from the side of the street. It wasn't light, but something that felt like compressed air, a concussive force that slammed into the attackers, sending them sprawling.
From the twilight, a figure emerged. It was a girl, dressed in a familiar school blazer and pleated skirt, her dark hair glinting in the fading light. She stood, not with a weapon, but with an intense, focused energy emanating from her. Her eyes, even from this distance, seemed to glow with an ethereal, almost predatory light. Her movements were fluid, precise, not of martial arts, but of raw, directed power. She didn't touch them; she pushed them, with something unseen yet undeniably real. She moved with a purpose Ren recognized, the way a master mage would channel their will.
The shadowy figures scrambled back, momentarily disoriented, their guttural growls now laced with a new note of surprise, even fear.
The girl in the school uniform turned to Ren, her glowing eyes meeting his. Her voice, usually composed, now carried an echo of ancient power, strong and clear amidst the chaos.
"You're not alone, Kaelen," she stated, her gaze piercing, unwavering. The twilight shifted just enough, and Ren saw her face more clearly. It was Li Wei. "We are the same. And he will not break us. Not this time."
Ren stared, his breath hitched. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place with horrifying clarity. He wasn't the only one. He wasn't the last. But if Li Wei was "the same," what did that truly mean for them, trapped in this world, against a foe who spanned lifetimes?