chapter 11 - Hoshino growth process [EASRS]

Chapter 11

Above the pitch-black sky, thick clouds devoured the heavens.

Beneath them, monstrous waves crashed against burning ships, tossing them violently as if the sea itself wanted to swallow them whole.

Then—breaking through the clouds—came white streaks of light.

At first glance, they looked like angels descending from the heavens.

But they were no angels.

They were not divine beings at all…

They were suicidal UAVs — their propellers screaming, wings spinning at impossible speed as they dove straight into the fleet below.

And then—

BOOM.

A series of explosions illuminated the dark ocean.

Fire raged across the waves, reflecting off the smoke-choked sky.

On the deck of the USS California, the mighty aircraft carrier shuddered and tilted, its steel hull riddled with holes. The fighter jets stationed above were shredded into molten debris by the relentless UAV swarm.

Eliza clenched her teeth, fury blazing in her eyes as she looked up.

Above her, more of those suicidal drones plunged down like vengeful angels descending from hell itself.

One of them—its sensors locking onto her—veered sharply and came screaming toward her position through the torrential rain.

She drew her sidearm, a black pistol glinting faintly under the thunderous sky, and fired again and again—

but the rounds merely sparked uselessly against the drone's hardened shell.

Then—

from behind her—a hand.

A strange, invisible hand gripped her shoulder and yanked her backward, throwing her down a stairwell just as the UAV struck.

The world erupted in chaos.

The control tower collapsed into ruin, consumed by fire and smoke, the roar so violent that it drowned even her thoughts.

The unbearable heat washed over her.

Her consciousness began to fade…

But before everything went dark, she felt something—something soft—being laid gently over her body.

Something… strangely warm.

---

[Evil or Good]

---

Then—Eliza opened her eyes.

But this wasn't the Anti World.

This was inside her mind.

The space around her was suffocatingly black.

There was no horizon, no sound—only darkness.

From the void, faint sparks began to swirl and converge, forming a six-pointed star—

the Star of David, glowing with pale blue light.

It was the symbol of her people.

Her true bloodline.

But Eliza recoiled.

Hatred flooded her eyes. She stepped back, shaking her head in disgust.

To her, that star was nothing more than filth—

a symbol of weakness, of the vermin she despised.

Of the Jewish faith she refused to acknowledge.

In her heart, she was not Jewish.

She was American, through and through.

And Americans never bowed to another nation, another bloodline.

Then, the darkness shifted—melted away—

and the scent of warm sand filled the air.

Olive trees swayed under golden sunlight.

The waves of the Atlantic sparkled in the distance.

She was standing on a beach on the western coast of Africa…

Morocco.

Her homeland—before she went to America.

Eliza trembled.

Even though she knew it was only her memory, she could feel it—

the heat of the sand beneath her feet,

the dry wind brushing her face.

Around her stood crumbling clay buildings, half-buried in dust and rot.

Children ran barefoot through the streets, their laughter cruel and mocking.

Her stomach twisted in disgust at the sight of their dark skin, their ragged smiles.

She pushed past them, moving toward a small, ruined house she somehow recognized.

The house she once called home.

Inside, the air stank of blood.

Two bodies lay torn apart—their entrails spilling out, bones shattered like ground meat.

Drunken men of the village laughed and smashed Jewish symbols across the walls—

crosses, holy water, scripture—all defiled.

This… this was the day.

The day her parents were murdered.

The day her hatred was born.

She remembered hiding in that old wooden cabinet, watching everything, trembling and silent.

And now she stood there again, the adult her watching her child self crouched in terror inside the same hiding place.

Eliza raised her pistol, screaming,

and fired at the laughing men—

but the bullets passed through them like smoke.

Then, the sound of rotors—

helicopters.

The United States Marine Corps.

UH-60s swooped down from the skies, their blades cutting through the sunlight as American soldiers in desert camo stormed the village.

They opened fire, capturing every man still clutching a knife, rescuing what remained of the massacre.

Amid the chaos… they found her.

---

Eliza's eyes opened again—

this time, for real.

She was lying amid twisted metal.

The wreckage of the aircraft carrier surrounded her, the walls scorched black.

A thermal blanket—once silver, now charred—was draped over her body.

It must have shielded her from the flames.

She struggled to her feet, every muscle trembling with exhaustion and pain.

Before her, the staircase was nothing but molten iron blocking the exit.

She picked up a steel rod and began hammering at the wreckage,

again and again—

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

It did nothing.

But somewhere—far away—the metal groaned and gave way, opening a narrow path to the surface.

Eliza crawled out, gasping for air.

The world outside was drenched in crimson.

A red sun hung low behind blood-colored clouds.

Beneath her feet was the broken deck of the USS California, littered with holes and burnt corpses.

Beyond that, dunes of black sand stretched endlessly—

the cursed soil of the Anti World.

In the distance stood makeshift shelters made of twisted metal,

where a few surviving soldiers huddled together—starving, filthy, and hopeless.

They were too weak even to bury their comrades.

The dead lay in rough piles of stones, unmarked and forgotten.

Eliza slid down a slope of sand, collapsing at the bottom.

She stared blankly up at the blood-red sky.

Above her, vultures circled lazily—waiting for the living to fall.

But among them… something darker moved.

A black shadow—larger than any bird.

It was coming closer.

Eliza's eyes widened.

---

Meanwhile—elsewhere—

Armored vehicles painted jet-black thundered across a barren plain toward a massive fortress.

It loomed beneath the darkened sky, its walls alive with grotesque growths—

trees made of human flesh.

Their trunks were fused bodies;

their branches, human arms and legs, dripping with blood.

The fortress itself rose like a cluster of obsidian spears stabbing into the heavens.

A monument of madness.

Inside the medical convoy, Lucas and Light were being treated for their wounds.

Medics rushed around, bandaging burns and checking vitals.

Nearby, Elena sat on the ground, pale and exhausted, leaning against an ambulance.

At another spot, Sora grabbed Alice by the shoulder, pulling her playfully toward Mei and Qu, who both looked utterly bewildered.

Sora squinted, then mischievously lifted Alice's and Mei's chins, comparing their faces side by side like a scientist examining specimens.

Sora:

> Oh my, how adorable… You two look like drops of syrup and salt water—same color, same sparkle.

She chuckled, tapping Alice on the shoulder before reaching out, plucking one strand of Alice's hair and one of Qu's in a teasing motion.

Sora:

> Looks like we've got a little cuckoo chick here… you know, the kind that leaves its egg in another's nest~

Alice frowned, eyes narrowing in confusion and mild annoyance at Sora's teasing tone.

Sora just smirked and turned away like nothing had happened.

Alice:

> What's that supposed to mean, Sora-chan…?

---

[To be continued]

Chapter 12 - chapter 11