The noise had stopped.
Dust floated through the broken air, drifting across what was left of the classroom. Half the wall was gone, and a slow wind carried the scent of iron and smoke. The floor trembled now and then, each pulse faint but heavy—like the city itself was breathing through cracked lungs.
Kuhaku pushed a splintered desk aside and stared out the hole where the window had been.
The world had turned red.
Far beyond the schoolyard, the skyline had collapsed into ash. Streets were fractured, buildings torn open, fires moving like insects between them.
And at the heart of it all, filling the horizon, stood something vast.
It was smooth, bone-white, veined with crimson light.
An egg, enormous and motionless.
From the clouds above, a pillar of blood poured straight down upon it—thick, endless, roaring without sound. Each impact sent ripples through the air and through his chest. The ground pulsed with it, steady and alive.
The blood that struck the shell flowed downward in streams, crawling through the streets in glowing lines. The city had veins now.
Kuhaku's breath shook. That thing's alive…
⸻
A low hum rose from somewhere beneath them. The lights flickered once, then died.
Someone screamed.
He turned in time to see a boy drop to his knees, clutching his head. His skin darkened along the veins, eyes burning red. Others followed—one after another—until the room filled with cries and the smell of burning air.
"Stay back!" the teacher shouted, running forward.
The boy looked up.
And the boy wasn't a boy anymore.
He moved too fast to see. The teacher fell before he could speak, throat open, blood spraying across the desks.
Chaos. Desks overturned. Glass shattered.
Kuhaku stumbled back, lungs refusing to fill.
One of them turned toward him—bones cracking, fingers lengthening into claws.
He grabbed the nearest thing, a broken steel rod, and swung.
Once. Twice.
A wet crack.
Silence.
He froze, gasping, the rod slick with blood. The creature collapsed at his feet.
Then, faint and soundless, letters flickered before his eyes:
[Enemy defeated.]
[System: User recognized.]
[Access unlocked.]
The words lingered for a heartbeat, then vanished like smoke.
What—?
Another scream cut through the thought. No time.
⸻
"Kuhaku!"
Kiana's voice snapped him back. She was pulling Mei toward the door, eyes wide with terror. Bronya had already kicked debris aside, motioning sharply.
"Move!" Kuhaku shouted, grabbing the rod again.
They ran.
The hallway shuddered with every step. Red light spilled through shattered windows, crawling across the walls. Somewhere deep inside the building, something collapsed with a roar.
Screams echoed from every direction.
He didn't look back.
Down the stairs—blood on the railings, glass underfoot.
Another tremor. The pulse from the pillar beat in his ribs.
"Outside!" he yelled.
They burst through the ruined doors into the open world.
⸻
The air burned.
The sky above was a swirling wound of black and red. The pillar of blood descended from its center, slamming onto the massive egg that pulsed with light. The impact roared without sound, the world vibrating around it.
Buildings leaned. Fire poured from cracked windows.
People ran—then stopped, twisting mid-stride as drops of red rain struck their skin.
Flesh warped, bones bent, voices vanished into howls.
"Don't let it touch you!" Mei shouted, dragging Kiana under a collapsed sign.
Bronya followed, silent, her face pale.
Kuhaku led them through the street, eyes fixed on the horizon.
The egg throbbed again, slow and steady. Each beat made the world dim for a second, then flare brighter.
⸻
They found shelter in a half-collapsed convenience store.
Inside, it was dark and still.
Shelves lay scattered, glass crunching under their shoes.
The door creaked shut behind them, muffling the outside world to a low, pulsing hum.
They didn't speak.
Kuhaku dropped the rod and sank against the wall. His hands trembled, streaked with blood that didn't feel real.
Kiana slid to the floor beside Mei, head buried in her knees.
Bronya sat by the broken counter, eyes distant, breathing shallow.
Outside, through the cracks in the wall, the red light pulsed softly—steady, unending.
The world's heartbeat.
He stared at his palms until they stopped shaking. The faint afterimage of those words still burned behind his eyes.
Then he closed them.
No one said anything.
No one moved.
Only the blood-light breathing beyond the glass.
⸻
End of Chapter 1 – Part 6