The room smelled like old metal and incense — a strange mix of war and prayer.
Light flickered from monitors, mapping ruin-scars across a digital map of what once was Japan's coastal belt.
This was the War Room.
Not grand.
Not polished.
Just stone walls reinforced with steel ribs, cables snaking like living veins, and people too tired to call themselves heroes yet.
Ren stood near the back, trying not to breathe too loudly.
He'd been briefed already: Formation of Vanguard Team.
Code Name: Ash-Walkers.
His stomach fluttered like a bird in a cage.
Or like twenty birds holding a rave.
Mei stood beside him with her neat notebook, posture prim but foot tapping nervously. Akira leaned on a pillar, coat half-off his shoulder, pretending boredom but eyes razor-sharp.
Then the doors groaned open.
Bootsteps.
Measured.
Heavy.
Confident.
Kenta Okoye entered like a mountain that learned to walk.
Tall, broad, scarred — afro tied back tight, bronze skin lit with faint energy lines along a prosthetic left arm glowing with runic circuits. His gaze held weight. Not arrogance — responsibility. A veteran who had survived beginnings most wouldn't survive the ending of.
He surveyed the room.
His voice, when he spoke, resonated like a low drum.
"Formation briefing begins."
No theatrics.
Just presence.
Ren straightened automatically.
Kenta's eyes passed over him — evaluating, not judging.
"Yes," Ren thought, "he could break me in half just by blinking too hard."
Behind Kenta came others:
The Vanguard
• Aya Nakamori, Spirit Artillery
Tall, inked arms covered in swirling lumina runes, a serious face softened by tired eyes. Carried a massive staff like it was an extension of her spine.
• Riku Winters, Recon and Gadgeteer
Half-mask covering one cheek, messy goggles on head, fingerless gloves stuffed with tools. Smirk too proud for how scared his eyes were.
• Elder Shun, monk of the Dawn Shrine
Small, wiry, beads around neck, steps silent like meditation had replaced bones.
These weren't soldiers.
They were answers to extinction.
⸻
Kenta set a holographic map projection. The screens dimmed. Everyone leaned forward.
A red circle pulsed on the map.
Sector D-13: The Ruins of Kasumori
A town once filled with life.
Now a scar — buildings half-swallowed by creeping vines and hell-touched growth. Roads cracked into teeth.
Between New Babel and Kasumori sprawled red zones — Naraka nests.
Images flickered — grainy drone shots:
• Hulking shadow-beasts sniffing air like wolves made from iron and bone.
• Spirit distortion storms swirling with screams caught between realms.
• Craters where energy signatures detonated months ago, still glowing faint violet.
And worst:
Two monstrous silhouettes near Kasumori's center.
Thektor — The Iron Devourer.
Scorpion-bodied titan of obsidian carapace, steel bones jutting like cannons, mandibles dripping molten slag.
Guruth — The Three-Maw Hound.
Heads breathing ash, thunder, and venom. Chains of spirit metal dragging behind like cursed history.
Ren swallowed.
Akira muttered, "So… we're going sightseeing in hell."
Riku grinned nervously. "Yeah. Bring sunscreen."
Mei didn't look up from notes. "And purification seals. And probably a therapist."
The Briefing
Kenta pointed to the map.
"Our objective: reach Kasumori. Identify the First Seal locus. Neutralize resistance. Repel Ares' forces if possible."
"If possible" felt like a cruel joke.
Aya crossed her arms. "Meaning we're the blade and the shield."
"Correct," Kenta replied. "We do not seek victory by force. We seek survival through strategy."
Ren raised a hand reflexively.
"Excuse me, sir. How do we— y'know— survive two giant demon-deity titans?"
The room looked at him.
Akira stared like Ren had just asked how to fight gravity.
Kenta's lips twitched — not a smile, but a faint ghost of respect that someone asked aloud.
"We survive," Kenta said simply, "by not dying."
Riku snorted. "Wow, great plan. Inspirational."
Elder Shun spoke softly. "The naive fear death. The unwise chase it. The worthy walk between."
Ren blinked. "I feel like that was aimed directly at me."
"It was," Mei whispered.
Kenta continued.
"Movement will be on foot and hover carriers until forest density stops us. Aya handles barrier breaches. Mei handles seal intel. Akira leads front-line responses. Riku scouts and deploys tech. Elder Shun reinforces spirit wards."
He turned to Ren.
"You—"
Ren straightened like his spine suddenly remembered its day job.
"—stand behind people until I say otherwise."
Ren blinked.
Akira smirked.
Mei nodded approvingly.
Riku muttered, "Relatable."
Ren puffed cheeks. "I can stand in front if needed."
Kenta stared.
"Can you also un-die yourself?"
"…No."
"Then you stand behind."
Ren slumped. "Yes, sir."
A beat passed. A sort of heavy warmth hid behind the strictness.
He wasn't belittling — he was protecting.
Ren understood that.
And it made him want to earn the right to stand ahead
The screen flickered again — and a stylized symbol burned across it.
A winged sigil.
Crown of fractured light.
Serpentine halo.
Eyes like golden knives.
Lucifer.
The Fallen Light.
Kenta's voice lowered
"He was seen watching. He will move soon."
Aya clicked her tongue. "So we walk into Ares' territory with his lieutenant stalking?"
Elder Shun murmured, "Not lieutenant. Equal."
Even the projector flickered at the name, as if reality itself disliked remembering Lucifer existed.
Ren rubbed his arm, goosebumps pricking skin.
"Ares said he'd come back for me…"
Mei pressed her lips thin. "And if Lucifer comes instead?"
Akira's hand hovered near his sword.
Kenta's tone went steel-cold.
"Then we retreat."
Everyone stared.
"If Lucifer engages, we survive, regroup, adapt."
Riku exhaled. "So… rule one: don't die. Rule two: don't fight Lucifer. Rule three: if both happen…?"
"Rule three," Kenta said, "pray your ancestors still love you."
⸻
The Decision
Hoshinori entered quietly, leaning on his staff.
"Ren."
Ren straightened again — why did his spine only behave near terrifying people?
"You were chosen by circumstance," the elder said. "Destiny is a fire — warming or consuming depending on the holder."
Ren tried to speak. Nothing came.
"You will walk into myth. But remember this—"
Hoshinori tapped Ren's chest with his staff.
"MSE blossoms not from power, but from heart. Fear is not weakness. Only surrender is."
Ren nodded shakily. "…Okay."
"Not okay. But enough." The elder turned. "Prepare. You leave in one hour."
⸻
Before Departure — Small Moments Matter
They filtered out.
Elder Shun bowed and departed in silence.
Riku spun a screwdriver anxiously, muttering something about "if I die bury me with my snacks."
Aya checked energy reservoirs on her staff.
Akira adjusted his sword strap with quiet focus.
Ren lingered.
He stared again at the map.
So close to New Babel… yet felt like another world.
He whispered, "Why does saving the world always sound like a terrible plan?"
Mei appeared beside him.
"Because it is."
He blinked. "You're not reassuring."
She adjusted her glasses. "If reassurance helped, we'd feed you cupcakes instead of training."
"…Cupcakes help."
"I know," she sighed. "That's the problem."
They stood a moment in quiet.
Akira joined without asking, leaning beside Ren.
"Scared?"
Ren hesitated. "…Yeah."
Akira nodded. "Good."
Ren blinked. "Good?!"
Akira shrugged. "Means you don't think you're invincible. People who think they can't die… die fast."
Ren swallowed. "And people who fear dying?"
Akira smirked thinly. "Still die. But they try harder first."
"…I think that's comforting?"
"Don't get used to it."
Kenta approached last, arms crossed, prosthetic humming low.
"You will see things out there that try to make you doubt why you stand."
Ren met his gaze. Scary. Heavy. Real.
"And when fear rises," Kenta continued, "remember this: bravery is not shouting louder than fear. Bravery is moving anyway."
Ren nodded. "I… I'll try."
Kenta looked down at him — gaze becoming something almost gentle.
"You did not kneel."
Ren blinked. "…Huh?"
"You faced Ares and shook — but did not kneel. I have seen generals break under less."
Ren felt heat sting behind his eyes.
Kenta rested a massive hand briefly on his shoulder.
"Unearned pride kills. But so does forgetting your worth."
Ren sniffed. "That's… unexpectedly touching, sir."
"One sentimental moment per mission," Kenta said. "You just spent it."
"Dang it."
⸻
The Transition — Boots, Engines, Breath
Outside, hover carriers hummed to life in the courtyard. Armored plates gleamed under early light. Runes flickered awake on reinforced armor. Soldiers loaded crates. Operators checked comms. Monks chanted protective verses.
New Babel wasn't just sending bodies.
They were sending hope with teeth.
Ren stood with his pack — too light to feel ready, too heavy to feel normal.
Mei adjusted straps on her satchel. "Books are packed. Seals prepared. Emotional damage contained."
Akira stretched his arms. "Sword sharp. Spirit steady. Expecting disaster."
Riku hopped into a carrier, goggles glowing. "Snacks acquired."
Aya climbed aboard, staff locking into harness. "Let us go make foolish heroism seem reasonable."
Elder Shun walked silently, prayer beads clinking against armored robes.
Kenta stood last, scanning the city one more time.
The morning sun broke between cloud and ruin — gold bleeding across broken skyscrapers like forgiveness fighting grief.
The gates groaned open.
The wind smelled of dust, wild grass reclaiming roads, and distant nightmare roars.
Ren's heartbeat flickered once, sharp, scared, stubborn.
Yuna watched from the ramparts, arms crossed — unspoken vow in her gaze.
"Vanguard," Kenta commanded, voice steady as earth.
"Forward."
Engines roared. Boots thudded. Armor clinked.
Ren took his first step out of New Babel — toward gods, monsters, and whatever future dared to exist.
He whispered to himself:
"Don't kneel."
A faint pulse answered inside — patient, ancient, waiting to awaken.
The world outside the wall stared back like a sleeping beast waiting to decide if it should open one eye and devour them.
Ren didn't look away.
He couldn't afford to.