The night was at its peak.
Stars glowed, and Nekrolyma was bathed in the silvery light of the crescent moon.
Distant chatters lingered, their volumes fading as XN and Valora followed Sora into an alley, away from the feast.
The air grew humid, a warm gust brushing their hair. The sustained silence from their separation intensified as they moved farther from the crowd.
Then, suddenly, the cracklings stopped.
Sora halted, and his two companions responded accordingly.
Alert, Valora discreetly scanned the surroundings, as though expecting an ambush. Unsatisfied with the absence of hints, her face twisted, suspicion etched across her visage.
"Why are we here, Sora?" she asked calmly.
Sora remained unresponsive.
A shadow stretched from a turn in front of them. A familiar voice called out.
"Sora!"
"Damn it! Where are you?"
The voice was familiar. Even XN could identify its owner.
Valora's eyes widened in realization, silently hoping she was mistaken.
Still giving his back to his companions, a grimace grew on Sora's face.
The distant figure finally emerged. Valora's hopes were crushed. Instinctively, she took guard. With her left hand on the hilt of her blade, she prepared to draw her sword as she called out,
"Manson!"
In a split second, Sora's original position was replaced with a dust cloud. As it vanished, Manson was held captive.
His eyelids widened fully, and his body trembled.
By his neck, his captor held a silver dagger etched with symbols.
XN slowly looked up. Manson was terrified, and his captor was terrifying. Sora's eyes were again void of sentiment.
His smile was reckless.
An unnerving aura radiated from him. His hair defied gravity, dancing carelessly upward.
Valora's guard radiated murderous intent, but her body betrayed uncertainty and fear. Tingling sounds from her trembling blade became audible.
Sora snickered long enough that Valora and XN could perceive it.
"You really thought I was dumb, huh?" Sora began.
"It's been a while that I've been watching from the bench..."
His face suddenly twisted with disgust, his anger condensing into a cold glare at Manson.
"While you replaced me with this... mole." His voice shifted from frantic to grave.
Valora's dreaded gaze intensified as he continued.
"It all gets worse when someone who disappeared suddenly resurfaces after a disaster."
Manson's breathing shallowed as he felt the warm breath of his captor against his neck.
"It got me thinking, you know..."
"What if... Manson, did you sell us out to the Regis?"
Valora's teeth clenched. Her resolve gradually re-established. Manson was caught between the sky and the storm.
He was exposed. He knew Valora would trust Sora over him.
Tears began to squeeze from Manson's closed eyes.
"What can I do now?" he lamented.
The tingling from Valora's blade ceased. She appeared tranquil. She took a deep breath and exhaled, her eyes opening to reveal a stoic demeanor and irises glowing ruby red. The air surrounding her seemed to evacuate, repelled.
XN observed her through his slashing hair, dangerously approaching Manson.
Then Sora's voice pierced the moment with authority.
"Stop right there!"
"I believe you get it now..."
The ground beneath Valora's feet gave way, and she burst forward with explosive speed, slashing in Manson's direction.
A crimson light followed. The air split in two.
Her blade was stained with blood, and Manson lay on the ground.
Then Valora sheathed her sword, back turned to the others. Calmly, she asked,
"Manson. Are you okay?"
He patted his body in disbelief.
"I'm still... alive?"
The blood wasn't Manson's, but Sora's. Valora had intentionally aimed at Sora to free Manson.
Valora tilted her head, exposing just a portion of her face. Her red eyes glimmered in the night light.
Behind, XN now stood in Manson's shoes, held captive by Sora.
A warm, thick fluid drained from Sora's left cheek—a drop of blood.
Unconcerned, XN listened as Sora continued his confessions.
"I couldn't believe we lost Rys... in a battle we were supposed to win."
"Why was he there...?"
Sora began to replay their last confrontation with Eyes' troop, his expression numb, almost dead-like.
"So I wrote a letter, pretending to be him—the Seer..."
"...And in return, his valuable assistance would be rewarded, as discussed."
Manson, paralyzed by the revelation, was struck with disbelief.
Valora concluded,
"So you sacrificed our home just to ground your findings."
She steadily turned as she unveiled Sora's trick, her brows frowning behind her glowing hair bangs.
"You instructed Manson to kill Master Reynolds!"
"I have a debt to pay..." Sora continued.
The atmosphere grew colder, the winds more violent.
Sora looked lifelessly into Manson's eyes and whispered,
"...To avenge Rys."
"And I shall annihilate all of them."
The dread behind his words rippled through the witnesses' bones.
Meanwhile, their absence became noticeable to Reynolds, who sat first at a long, wooden dining table outdoors.
A faint crimson light glowed in the sky for a brief instant, almost unnoticed, yet long enough to draw Reynolds' attention.
"What could be happening over there?"
As he drew closer to the alley, the crowd's chatter hushed, replaced with the shallow joy of beverages and bland food filling the residents' stomachs.
Reynolds looked back at the unconcerned crowd and sighed in disappointment.
"What a debauchery."
"When I meant the feast, I didn't expect this much lassitude."
He stepped into the alley's shadows, whispering with relief in his smile.
"Guess that's the wastelands for you."
His steps grew louder in the narrow way.
The noise faded, tense chatters urging discretion.
"Sora? What's happening there?"
Concern crawled up Reynolds' heart as he hastened toward the source of the sounds. Each step was as delicate as a cat's paw.
Finally, the shadows were consumed by faint lights—a blend of red and yellow.
The air was tainted with blood and conflict. Cold sweat ran down Reynolds' worried expression as he overheard Valora's composed, resolute voice—the tone she employed when her blade was about to bring justice.
Yet that wasn't his only concern.
"Yellow... not again!" Reynolds grumbled.
Then he overheard Sora. His voice sounded mature, cold, and unconcerned. His speech was slurred and sluggish.
"See... I know a lot more about the old man than you think, Valora."
"I'm just pissed that y'all are acting like nothing's changed."
Reynolds eavesdropped while Sora continued his monologue.
"Snap out of this delusion. Smiles fit ugly on the face of war."
For a moment, silence reigned again. The winds echoed Sora's voice. The crescent moon hid behind thick gray clouds.
Sora gently looked down at the drop of water on his right hand. Once more, he spoke,
"Talking of the wolf..."
Rain began to pour over Nekrolyma. The sky was a canvas of lightning and crimson clouds. Thunder from rooftops was deafening, and the feast was troubled.
Reflections rippled as feet hurried for shelter. Yet in the alley, the water remained still; everyone maintained their positions.
"They're finally here," said Sora.
Instantly, a troubling memory brutally resurfaced in Manson. His teeth chattered as he pulled himself backward.
Then Sora exhaled.
He looked up at the crimson sky, his coffee-brown hair soaked.
A long thread of lightning caught his eyes, reflecting the danger in the firmament.
Tiny creatures emerged from the threat, their sizes increasing as they lost altitude drastically.
Manson looked up in terror.
"No... not now."
"Damn it, how could I forget!?"
It became clear that Sora had seen through Manson's connivery with the Regis.
The glow that once filled Valora's irises faded, blown away by shock in Manson's eyes. She didn't want to believe it, but a part of her agreed with Sora's words: "What if Manson betrayed us?"
As events unfolded in alignment with Sora's anticipation, Reynolds stood exposed under the crimson light in the alley's shadows.
"Finally, you show up, old man," Sora said.
Reynolds noticed the change in Sora. His eyes continued to glow yellow.
Reynolds' concern intensified.
"Sora, what is all this?"
Sora remained silent for a short while.
The thumps from the falling creatures interfered with the heavy rain. Craters formed from their collisions, sending violent waves sweeping the winds aside.
The thumps persisted.
Tiny threads of lightning fizzled at his temples from his eyes.
Then Sora spoke, his voice controlled, almost as though beneath his breath,
"Say, old man..."
His eyes locked on the hidden moon, his tone leaving no doubt that he foresaw it.
"...Isn't that your son?"