A Flight to The Yaarou Western Compound

[The Yaarou Clan]

[Continued From Here]


Morning came softly to New Vorelia.. as it always did.

The first light spilled over the peaks of the Strata Mountains in pale bands of gold, washing across the city of white stone until its countless bridges and terraces seemed to glow from within. Bells echoed somewhere beneath the clouds, announcing the beginning of another day to a civilization that had spent five thousand years greeting each sunrise as though it were a victory unto itself.

Far below the Hall of Luminaries, beyond the city districts and the ascending lifts that carried hunters toward the mountain gates, rested a secluded aerodrome carved directly into the eastern cliffs.

The runways had been cleared before sunrise. And only a handful of Inuki attendants remained on duty, assigned to guard the only vessel resting upon the tarmac. They weren't told much about it other than it was the Xhi'on's transport vehicle, but they couldn't help but notice that it possessed none of heraldry they expected of an incredibly opulent clan. There were no banners or gilded crests carved along the hull proclaiming noble ownership. Instead, the jet's obsidian surface was sleek and seamless, interrupted only by narrow silver inlays that traced elegant patterns from nose to tail.

It rested upon the polished landing platform like a shard of midnight, and even idle, it seemed to radiate something difficult to describe. Not merely power or pride.. but authority. The effortless extravagance of a civilization so wealthy it no longer needed to display its wealth.

But despite all its beauty and allure, none of them dared ventured near the aircraft.

—

It was barely an hour past dawn when Sevrin crossed the platform at an unhurried pace.

The mountain wind tugged gently at his robes as he adjusted the black blindfold covering his empty eyes.

He looked calm, and well rested after a night spent in the care of New Vorelia’s finest amenities. Following his meeting within the Hall of Luminaries, the Elder was encouraged to eat, sleep, and replenish. He found himself surprised at the lengths the Inuki went to aiding the Yaarou's refugees. But despite that, Sevrin's thoughts were elsewhere this morning.

The conversation with the Grand Luminary had lingered with him throughout the night.. Tales and discussions of demonic entities… fraught with eldritch powers, tied to abhorrent realms. The Yaarou were no strangers to the otherness of the Unseen. And though he'd learn better than to doubt the will and ambition of their Xhi'on, Sevrin couldn't help but think that her proclivity to throw caution to the wind was.. foolhardy.

“...”

Even now, as his footsteps reached the tarmac, the final words Hitomi shared with him at the Athenaeum weighed heavily on his head. The fact that she truly intended to take on the Trial of Pale Shadows was evidence of her gross disregard for anything other than her own capabilities.. And that experience was the only teacher she’d ever listened to.

For nearly three thousand years every practitioner of the Yaarou's telepathic branch of the Ephemeral Arts had surrendered their sight willingly upon the altar of perception— just as the first Xhion, the originator of the rite had done before them.

It was less a technique than it was a covenant. A sacred pact. But Hitomi had dismissed it all in matter of words. As she had done everything else that would deter or stall or goals. And Sevrin still couldn't decide if her confidence comforted him, or only terrified him further.

In time, Sevrin passed by the Inuki guard detail, who greeted him with nods and keen bows before he reached the lower boarding stairs of the Jet. There, two Yaarou attendants were standing in anticipation of his arrival.

“Elder Sevrin.” They bowed deeply. “Lady Yaarou is waiting for you.”

Sevrin tilted his head and climbed aboard without another word. Once he reached the top, he took a long, deep breath to steady himself before he proceeded through the threshold.

The cabin greeted him with silence.

The interior bore little resemblance to the military transports he had flown aboard throughout his life. The Xhi'on's aircraft had been designed less as a vessel and more as a private residence capable of drifting through the clouds.

Dark walnut paneling lined the walls between broad windows that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. Shelves of polished ebony housed hundreds of carefully catalogued volumes, many rescued from the libraries of Qiyoto before its destruction. Works of art occupied illuminated alcoves between them, while a long conference table of black marble ran through the center of the cabin— untouched save for a silver tray of tea that had long since gone cold.

Sevrin's gaze drifted across all of it before his attention was drawn to the rear of the cabin, and that's where he found her.

Hitomi occupied the seat nearest the panoramic window, where the morning sun danced along the white silk of her robes. One slender leg rested neatly across the other, and an immense leather-bound tome lay open upon her lap.

The embossed seal of the Inuki Athenaeum gleamed softly across its weathered cover, while several others were stacked on the table. One look at the faint shadows beneath her crimson eyes told Sevrin everything he needed to know. Hitomi had never gone to bed, and had likely never stopped reading since last night.

She was engrossed. She never so much as lifted her head to acknowledge his arrival while he adjusted his cloak.

Across from her sat Elder Ayune.

Her hands remained folded carefully within her lap, and she greeted Sevrin with a gentle smile that failed to conceal the tension gathered within her shoulders. He hadn't seen her since their arrival, but she too looked well rested. Composed. Yet every muscle in her posture suggested she had not truly relaxed since Qiyoto fell.

At her side sat Elder Jhun. And despite being a man who Sevrin would have described as a steadfast pillar that had steadied the Yaarou through generations of uncertainty.

Today, he just looked tired. Both physically, and spiritually.

His eyes lingered on Hitomi only for moments at a time before quietly retreating elsewhere, as though prolonged eye contact risked inviting a conversation neither elder wished to have. When he met Sevrin's gaze, he greeted him with a nod.

Both he and Ayune arrived one after each other less than an hour ago. But the silence upon the cabinet was stagnant and thick. Other than the hum of the engine, it was as if no one had made a sound since their arrival.

Sevrin understood immediately.

Neither of them had spoken to her. Not since Qiyoto.. where the decisions they made during her absence ultimately condemned their homeland dust. And judging from the rigidity in their shoulders, and the fatigue on their faces, neither of them knew whether forgiveness was even possible. Or whether their sentence had merely been.. postponed.

It was a feeling that Sevrin was intimately familiar with.

He crossed the cabin at an unhurried pace before stopping beside the conference table.

"Elder Jhun... Elder Ayune." He said a warm expression. "It is good to see you both in good health."

Ayune returned the smile, though it carried unmistakable fatigue. "And you, Sevrin. The Inuki appear to have treated you well."

"They have." He nodded warmly. "They have shown more kindness than I expected."

"Indeed," Jhun answered quietly. "For all our differences... They have surpassed my every expectation." His voice faltered almost imperceptibly. "..they accommodate us as if we were their own. A notion the Yaarou will not soon forget.”

“No, I imagine we won't.” Hitomi said suddenly, without lifting her eyes from the book. “..considering the destruction of Qiyoto will be a rather haunting reminder of their hospitality.. for as long as we live.”

She said with a quiet menace behind her words that sent a shiver down all three spines seated at this table.

“You are late.”

Still, she never looked up to him. But Sevrin could feel his heart plummet into his stomach like a rock. He blinked once before lowering his head. "My apologies, Lady Xhi'on. Before I arrived, I—”

“You may keep your apologies, and your excuses.” Hitomi said as she flipped to the next page, and wrote something down on a nearby notepad. “..fortunately for you, we're not yet ready for takeoff.”

Elder Jhun looked up, his fatigued eyes narrowed in confusion. “..my Lady? Are we awaiting another?”

“We are.”

“Commander Keiko..” Sevrin stated less than asked. But Hitomi simply shook her no.

“The Commander is still recovering from wounds she sustained in her valiant stand against the Serpent. But she has supplied an adequate replacement.”

“Replacement?” Ayune inclined her head. But then, Sevrin grunted with a narrowed gaze.

“Yatagané.” The word slithered through his teeth, quiet like a slur or a foul phrase. Hitomi smiled, without looking up from the tome.

“She should be joining us soon.”

Tension gathered about the cabin like a haze following her words.

Minutes passed, each one somehow longer than the last, and still no one spoke.

Before long, the silence became almost tangible.. so much so that Sevrin found himself fixating on sounds that would have otherwise slipped his notice; from the rhythmic pulse of the engines idling beneath the cabin floor, to the delicate whisper of pen gliding along parchment. His blind eyes were useless, yet years of habit caused his face to turn toward Hitomi all the same.

She had not stopped writing. Not for one second.. Even as their conversation drifted around her like leaves caught in a current, she remained.. incessant. It was as though everything and everyone else aboard the aircraft occupied only the very periphery of her awareness. All but this tome and her pad of notations.

Sevrin could not help himself. He inhaled slowly, done now with the reflective quiet.

"My Lady. Speaking of the Commander and her sacrifice, I wish to speak regarding the decisions made during your—"

"No." She answered gently. Yet the word arrested him, as if she'd struck him across the face.

He hesistated. “..my Lady?"

"I already know what you're going to say.”

Her hand never stopped moving.

“You believed there was no other way..”

She turned another page.

“..that preserving the bloodline outweighed every decision.. and that victory would absolve any methods used to obtain it.”

She jotted another note.

"You probably believed I would never awaken.. ”

Her words were delivered with the detached cadence of someone reciting historical facts. Yet the Elders could feel her disappointment within them.

Jhun lowered his head.

Ayune folded her hands more tightly within her lap.

Even Sevrin found himself unable to summon words he had rehearsed throughout the night.

Hitomi simply scoffed and continued reading. The conversation, in her mind, appeared already concluded.

“My Xhi'on..” Jhun swallowed, and gathered himself before he retorted. “Please.. allow us to explain. There is.. more to our reasoning.”

“Oh?” Hitomi suddenly stopped writing, and at last, she closed the tome. “..so there is another reason why you released my grandfather, incited war against the Shi in my absence, and destroyed all of Qiyoto in the process?”

None of them answered her. Sevrin wanted to though.. He wanted to tell her that it was their fear in her inexperience, her impulsivity, and relentless arrogance that ignited his distrust in their Xhi'on. But he wouldn't dare. Not after everything he'd seen her accomplish, and especially not after Hayate's prodigious mistake.

Her crimson gaze held daggers to all of their necks as she finally looked upon her embarrassing council, measuring whether any among them possessed the courage to say aloud what they truly believed. But when none of them did, a feint add frigid smile touched her lips.

“How sad..” She leaned back in her chair, watching them fidget in their seats, “..Is there anything more to you all than fear?”

[Rinnala Yaarou]

The light of Xelphis did not merely rise; it conquered. As the star’s first rays kissed the jagged horizon of New Vorelia, the Eastern Highlands were forcibly reclaimed from the shroud of night. Coral light, vibrant and hungry, bled across the peaks, abolishing the black veil that had, only moments before, saturated the hearts of the Inuki with an oppressive, familiar fear.

For the Inuki, fear was a secondary skin. They wore their exhaustion openly, their faces etched with the fatigue of a people who had held the line against a siege spanning five millennia. Five thousand years of holding back the dark would thin any bloodline, yet as the light pierced the gloom, Rinalla Yatagane felt a phantom warmth on her cheeks.

It was a memory, a soft echo from a time before the weight of the realms rested on her shoulders. She could see her mother’s face, clear as the morning air, cupping Rinalla’s chin in her calloused hands.

"My little Mud-bloom..." her mother had whispered, her voice a balm against the grief of a lost sister. "Even when you are not ready for the day, even when the weight of the world feels anchored to your soul... remember this."

A coy, knowing smile surfaced in Rinalla’s mind’s eye, so vivid she could almost feel the phantom heat of her mother's touch.

"It cannot always be night," Rinalla whispered, her own lips finishing the proverb.

The memory faded, leaving her standing on the precipice of a cold reality, but the encouragement remained—a necessary push to move beyond the rut she had inhabited for weeks. Her body still ached; the injuries sustained during the raid on the Denkou-Shi underground base were deep, reaching into the marrow. She had pushed herself to the absolute brink, fueled by a desperate need for the restorative prestige that would come with slaying the Nether Serpent. She had sought to wash the Yatagane name clean in the blood of a god-monster.

Instead, the mission had been a harrowing embarrassment.

Though she had survived—and even managed to dismantle the AION construct she faced—the victory felt like ash in her mouth. She was a Yaarou elite, a shadow who answered only to her commander, the Elders, and the X’hion herself. With thousands of confirmed kills, she was supposed to be the pinnacle of Yaarou lethality. A failure was still a failure

And Rinnala did not fail.

"And for fucking what?" she spat into the wind. "The Nether Serpent wasn’t even there."

He had been her obsession for a decade, the "Crowned Jewel of Shame" that sat upon her house's legacy. But the surveillance data she’d recovered from the AION had changed everything. Looking at the sheer scale of the devastation the Serpent left in his wake, a weighted diamond of reality settled in her gut. She wouldn't have been able to get near him. She was a candle flickering before a hurricane.

She needed power. Not just the strength of a soldier, but the evolution of an apex predator. And there was only one being in Edo who represented that shift: Hitomi, the X’hion.

Rinalla’s gaze drifted toward the "Breach" in the distance. Even from here, the earth seemed to murmur with malice. The Acheri—whatever these demonic entities truly were—were sowing death into the very soil. The wind carried the scent of ozone and rot. Casually, Rinalla pulled a cigarette from her purse, her fingers steady despite the whispers of the blackened earth. Gleaming in the light as it bounced off her Rings of Onryo.

As she struck a light, her eyes—outfitted with her Hex Artifacts—glimmered. The prisms contained her Azure Flame, twinkling like captured stars in the morning light. If she could master this flame, if she could harness it, she could bend even time to her will. This excursion into the heart of the demon-filled realm wasn't just a mission; it was her training montage. It was the forge where she would break her limitations.

A movement on the path below caught her eye. Elder Sevryn was arriving.

Her eyes narrowed, the Azure Flame in her pupils flaring. She had not forgotten the vision—the flickering precognition of Sevryn’s betrayal and the subsequent destruction of Qiyoto. She saw the blood on his hands before he even spilled it. Yet, for reasons Rinalla could not fathom, Hitomi had not struck him down.

Perhaps today, Rinalla thought, a cold resolve hardening in her chest. Treason will no longer go unanswered. She had nearly lost her entire family to the ambitions of men like Sevryn. She would not let it happen again.

"Suppose I better get inside," she muttered. She took a final, deep drag, the smoke curling around her face before she dropped the ember. The passing gale snuffed it out as Rinalla’s form blurred, then vanished entirely.

Moments later, she reappeared on the deck of the command ship, materializing silently to the right of Sevryn. The Elder jumped slightly, but Rinalla didn't even grant him a sideways glance. Her focus was entirely on the figure at the center of the bridge.

"My Lady X’hion," Rinalla said, her voice dropping into a tone of genuine, if rare, reverence. "Rinnala Yatagane, reporting."

She bowed—a deep, disciplined movement that displayed her absolute respect for the woman before her. When she rose, she bypassed the seating arranged for the sub-commanders and the Elders, taking a seat with a casual defiance that bordered on insult.

"Elders..."

To Rinalla, the Elders were children playing with matches while their homeland burned.

Only Hitomi mattered.

This was the first time Rinalla had stood in such proximity to her leader, and the effect was visceral. Hitomi did not merely command the room; she defined it.

She sat with a poise that felt less like a regal posture and more like a predator at rest. Her hair was a cascading river of silken white, so bright it seemed to catch the light of Xelphis and hold it captive. But it was her eyes that truly arrested Rinalla’s spirit. They were a deep, piercing crimson—the color of ancient wine and fresh blood. They didn't just look at Rinalla; they seemed to calculate her atomic weight, her potential, and her flaws in a single, sweeping glance.

There was a quiet power exuding from Hitomi, a hum of energy that made the air in the cabin feel heavy and charged. She was the embodiment of the evolution Rinnala craved—a leader who had discarded the stagnant traditions of the old Inuki ways in favor of raw, unadulterated efficiency

[The Yaarou Clan]

Moments later, Rinnala reappeared on the deck of the command ship, materializing silently to the right of Sevryn. The Elder jumped slightly, but Rinalla didn't even grant him a sideways glance. Her focus was entirely on the figure at the center of the bridge.

"My Lady X’hion," Rinalla said, her voice dropping into a tone of genuine, if rare, reverence. "Rinnala Yatagane, reporting."

She bowed—a deep, disciplined movement that displayed her absolute respect for the woman before her.

Only then did Hitomi's crimson eyes pull away from the Elders. And for the first time that morning, the cabin seemed to take a breath of relief.

She regarded the young shinobi for only a heartbeat. "...Captain." It was a slight nod and nothing more. Yet it carried a degree of acknowledgment that none of the elders had received since boarding the aircraft.

She placed the immense volume atop the growing stack beside her before reaching toward the intercom embedded within the armrest.

"We are ready to take off." Her voice carried effortlessly through the cabin.

Almost immediately, the aircraft answered.

The engines, which until now had merely hummed beneath the floor, deepened into a rich harmonic resonance.

Outside the panoramic windows, the ground crew and guards briskly dispersed across the runway from the aircraft as the boarding staircase withdrew with a mechanical hiss.

Then, the Theta Jet began to hover from the floor, only a few feet before it began gliding along the tarmac. In the following moments, the aircraft lifted into the clouds and soon, the entire runway disappeared behind them. And all of New Vorelia unfolded outside the windows.

From above, the mountain city appeared almost unreal. Its white towers pierced the drifting clouds like ivory spears. Vast units of Inuki Hunters could be seen climbing toward the great gates in disciplined columns while cathedral bells continued their morning hymn far below.

But then, the aircraft banked eastward and the snow capped summits of the Strata Mountains disappeared behind them, swallowed by the curvature of Vescrutia itself. And gave way to acres of endless forests threaded by silver rivers that glittered beneath Xelphis like veins of molten glass. Before long, even the mainland vanished, replaced by the immeasurable blue of the Freshwater Sea.

For nearly an hour, the Theta Jet outran the morning. The landscape transformed so quickly beneath it that Sevrin found himself unconsciously gripping the armrest. And one glance at Ayune let him know he wasn't alone.

"...Remarkable," She whispered, unable to peel her gaze away from the window.

Even Jhun leaned toward the window. "I've never traveled this quickly..."

“Neither have I..” Sevrin added.

The world no longer seemed to pass beneath the aircraft. It unraveled.

Continents folded away beneath them with impossible speed as the Theta Jet bent the heavens around its hull.

Hours of ordinary travel vanished into minutes. And no one spoke..

Not because there was nothing to say.. Nor was it because of the tension Hitomi's final words left them with. But because the sheer pace of the journey made conversation feel strangely insignificant. It was as if they would arrive at any moment.

Only Hitomi seemed untouched by the spectacle. She had already peeled open another tome and continued her writing as the realm raced beneath them. The only indication they had traveled nearly halfway across the world came from the pilot's calm voice breaking through the cabin.

"We are beginning our descent, Lady Xhi'on."

Hitomi closed her notebook and slid the leather journal neatly atop the stack of Inuki tomes before turning her crimson eyes toward the panoramic window.

Storm-gray clouds rolled beneath the aircraft like an endless ocean of ash, illuminated only where the light of Xelphis pierced through their fractured canopy.

The Theta Jet slipped effortlessly between them.

Then, the clouds broke, and a chain of emerald islands unfurled beneath the aircraft.

From this altitude, the Western Isles possessed an almost cruel beauty.

Dense jungles carpeted the interiors of dozens of islands, their vibrant canopies stretching to pristine beaches of white sand where crystalline waves reached untouched shores.

It could have been paradise.. Until the eye wandered farther inland.

There, all semblance of beauty ended.

Smoke rose in towering black columns from sprawling industrial districts that consumed nearly half the archipelago. Countless refineries stretched across reclaimed coastlines, their chimneys vomiting soot that stained the once-azure sea an oily gray. Massive shipping docks reached into the water where enormous freighters waited to carry their cargo toward distant continents.

Even from thousands of feet above, Sevrin could distinguish the enormous rail networks transporting ore between factories. Operated by thousands of workers moving below like insects.

The Yaarou had not merely occupied these islands, they had transformed them into an empire of commerce.

At the heart of the largest island stood a structure unlike any surrounding it— an immense fortress of obsidian glass and polished steel rose above the industrial skyline, its countless terraces crowned by black spires that pierced the clouds themselves.

The headquarters of the Gōkùdo Corporation; The financial heart of the Western Isles. The engine behind a fortune that rivaled kingdoms.

The Theta Jet banked gracefully toward it.

Below, an enormous private runway stretched across the coastline, its blackened concrete gleaming beneath the morning light. Armored personnel carriers waited in disciplined rows while dozens of black-clad security personnel stood motionless at attention.

The landing gear unfolded.

Hydraulics hissed beneath the cabin floor as the aircraft kissed the runway.

There was scarcely a change in momentum as the Theta Jet glided across the tarmac before gradually slowing to a halt.

Outside, the waiting convoy immediately came alive. Vehicle engines rumbled awake and security teams repositioned themselves with practiced precision.

Within moments, the boarding staircase descended and chime sounded softly throughout the cabin.

"We have arrived, Lady Xhi'on.”

“Finally.”

Hitomi rose and the others followed almost instinctively.

She gathered none of the archaic tomes. But she tucked the leather notebook into the sleeve of her robe and grabbed a personal bag before she led the way toward the exit.

Once the hatch opened, a gale of warm humid air flooded into the cabin, carrying with it the scents of saltwater, oil, steel, and smoke.. A world away from the crisp mountain air of New Vorelia that many of the Elders had already gotten used to.

Hitomi descended the staircase, nearly two dozen men dressed in immaculate black suits bowed in perfect unison. Dark sunglasses concealed their eyes despite the overcast sky. Each of them carried a polished sidearm and wore a sheathed katana along their backs.

One man stepped forward. And he stood out from his peers. Silver streaked the jet black waves of hair above his ears, and a crimson pin bearing the crest of the Gōkùdo Corporation adorned his lapel.

He was the only one of them to rise from his bow; clearly a superior officer.

"Lady Xhi'on. It is an honor to welcome you to the Western Isles. Our Chairman, Don Rio, has prepared the executive chamber and eagerly awaits your—"

"He may continue waiting." The sentence landed with quiet finality.

The executive froze.. but only for a beat before he bowed his head once again. "O-of course."

Hitomi regarded him without expression. "I require transportation."

"Immediately, My Lady."

"...To the Shi encampments."

Again, genuine surprise crossed the man's face. "...The... encampments?"

"Yes. I have no interest in the boardroom today."

The executive recovered himself almost instantly. "As you wish." He gestured toward the waiting convoy. “The route has already been secured.”

Without another word, Hitomi began walking and the convoy hurried to accommodate her.

Behind her, Sevrin exchanged a brief glance with Ayune. Neither of them spoke, but a shared inquiry connected them. If Hitomi had truly come to negotiate a sale, then why refuse to meet the most powerful man on the islands?

—-

The convoy departed within minutes.

Six armored vehicles rolled through the gates of the Yaarou's aerodrome in perfect formation, their matte-black exteriors reflecting little more than silhouettes beneath the overcast sky. The Theta Jet remained behind upon the runway, already being surrounded by engineers and security personnel who moved with mechanical precision.

Hitomi and her party occupied the lead vehicle as the convoy descended from the executive district into the industrial arteries that sustained the Gōkùdo Corporation. Endless columns of freight vehicles crawled between refineries. Rail lines crisscrossed overhead like steel veins, carrying countless shipping containers toward distant ports.

Massive cranes swung methodically above cargo docks where Gōkùdo agents loaded freighters destined for every corner of Vescrutia.

No one spoke. Many of them had never been here.. All aside from Hitomi of course.

But they absorbed what they saw in silence.

The convoy continued east, and soon, the towering skyline of their corporate headquarters disappeared behind them.

Then… The first wall appeared. Black steel. Nearly seventy feet high, and reinforced with enchantments that shimmered faintly across its surface whenever sunlight touched the countless runic inscriptions engraved into its frame. It stretched farther than anyone could immediately comprehend, with watchtowers standing every few hundred meters.

Each manned with its own separate battalion of armed guards.

The convoy slowed to a stop as they approached an immense checkpoint. But only for a moment while Hitomi's identity was verified. Immediately after, the gates opened with a thunderous groan that reverberated across the valley like a colossal beast.

The convoy crossed the threshold and entered an entirely different world beyond its walls. Miles upon miles of fenced compounds stretched across the valley floor,

Long lines of prisoners shuffled between compounds under the watchful eyes of guards carrying enchanted rifles and restraint poles humming with suppression magic.

Most possessed the distinctive features of the Shi; dark complexions, ash-colored hair, and eyes that were either carved out, blindfolded, or dulled from years of abuse in captivity. But they were not alone. Scattered among them were countless others. Elven bloodlines, rival shinobi, fae, worgs.. Every one of them unfortunate enough to be considered profitable in the eyes of the Yaarou's clients.

The convoy climbed a winding road that overlooked the valley until it reached the highest structure within the complex. A towering obsidian penthouse built directly into the mountainside. From here, one could see everything.

The vehicles came to a halt, where an attendant hurried forward to open Hitomi's door.

She stepped onto the polished stone without hesitation, followed closely by Rinnala and her Elders.

Inside, the penthouse was immaculate. Marble floors. Black pillars. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the entire internment complex below.

The contrast was abhorrently offensive. Luxury suspended above suffering.

Hitomi approached the window with her hands folded neatly behind her back.

For several long moments… She simply watched where thousands continued their work. Voices lashing like cracks of thunder into a sea of weathered faces. Her fingers

Behind her, Sevrin finally broke the silence. "Uh.. Lady Xhi'on? I was under the impression we had come to oversee negotiations.”

Hitomi never looked away from the glass.

“I remember you mentioned inspecting our merchandise before the sale but..."

"...I did." She paused. "That was untrue."

The room became still before she slowly turned to face Sevrin and the others. She then dropped the personal bag that she had been carrying from the Jet onto the floor.

Hitomi smiled as she reached inside and slowly withdrew a severed human head.

Its dark hair hung limply between her fingers as she held it aloft.. The man's lifeless expression frozen in perpetual terror.

Ayune inhaled sharply. Jhun's face was drained of color. But Sevrin.. Sevrin did not move. He did not so much as take a breath as his head inclined toward the ground. He looked petrified. And Hitomi saw that.

“This.. is why we're here.” She said, studying all of their expressions. “..well, one of the reasons.” then she smiled. “Do any of you recognize this man?”

No one moved. No one breathed.

Hitomi allowed the stillness to mature.

She had learned long ago that silence was among the cruelest interrogation techniques ever devised. And before long, Elder Ayune found her voice.

"...No." It emerged barely above a whisper. "I've... never seen him before."

Jhun slowly shook his head. "Neither have I." His eyes remained fixed upon the corpse, searching desperately for some fragment of recognition that never came.

Hitomi gaze looked toward Sevrin, who remained almost perfectly composed. Well.. Almost. Only someone who was studying him as obsessively as Hitomi would have noticed it. The slightest tightening beneath his jaw. The minute pause between one breath and the next. Tiny fractures otherwise Invisible to everyone else, but painfully obvious to her. "...And you?" she asked.

Sevrin lowered his blindfolded face. "...No, My Lady. I do not recognize this man."

Hitomi regarded him for another heartbeat before she smiled.

"...is that right..?"

She then playfully turned the severed head to face Rinnala.

“Captain Yatagané, what can you tell us about our friend here?”

[Rinnala Yaarou]

Rinnala remained seated, casually composed, despite the incredible speed at which the ship was traveling. The hum of the vessel’s engines vibrated through the reinforced floorboards, a low, rhythmic pulse that did nothing to soothe the men and women sitting across from her. The Elders might have been unaccustomed to such modern, ruthless means of transportation, but Rinnala possessed ample experience with such luxuries. Most of her career had been spent serving as a high-end security detail for wealthy patrons and upper-echelon corporations—a lucrative past that afforded her a lifestyle completely betraying her gruesome line of work and her bloody rap sheet.

She reclined softly against the leather upholstery, watching the clouds tear past the viewport. The tension inside the cabin was as palpable as the suffocating silence that had settled over them. The Elders were all on edge, as well they should have been.

Because of their brash decisions and conniving fears, Qiyoto was gone, not merely damaged. Not under siege. Gone.

Twelve millennia of history, infrastructure, blood, sweat, and ancestral tears had been decimated in a single night.

Her eyes scanned the cabin slowly. Each of the Elders present was a Yaarou who, in their prime, had brought something unprecedented and pivotal to the evolution of the clan. Ayune’s knowledge of the ephemeral arts was without peer; among all the Elders, she alone was regarded as adept at sealing arts so potent they could bind the Shi’s Danketsu. That, coupled with her terrifying mastery of Shokotsu, earned her a pious degree of esteem.

Beside her sat Elder Jhun, the eldest and longest-living among them. He had served the previous X’hion long before Hitomi ever claimed the throne. Upon his frail, bent shoulders he carried a history and institutional knowledge that surpassed even the collective memory of his peers.

Finally, her sanguine gaze rested upon Elder Sevrin. He was the only Elder possessed of enough dark courage to undertake the sacred Rite of Pale Shadows. Held in the highest regard for his unwavering devotion to the Yaarou clan, Sevrin’s cunning and tactical brilliance had earned him the title of greatest strategist, making him the closest advisor to the X’hion herself. Rinnala’s eyes lingered on him a beat longer than the others before she leaned back, letting her eyelids droop.

As the minutes stretched into an hour, the jagged skyline of New Vorelia dissolved into the misty horizon of the Western Isles. Below them, the Emerald Isle sprawled out in brilliant green, marred only by the sprawling steel, obsidian, and industrial fumes of the Yaarou Western Compound.

As a veteran of the Yaarou’s Still Shadow sect, Rinnala was intimately familiar with this installation; Commander Keiko and her strike team used it as their headquarters from time to time. When the ship touched down on the rain-slick landing pad, the courtyard guards regarded Rinnala’s arrival somberly. She was hardly the most beloved figure among the ranks, but they had learned to respect her lethality—and in the Yaarou clan, strength superseded all else. At least, it had since Hitomi had taken the throne.

The party boarded an armored ground transport, making their way deeper into the sector toward the Encampments. Rinnala tracked the tightening brows of the Elders; they were confused, terrified, and visibly out of their element. Yet, they would be forced to make peace with their discomfort. It was this exact cowardice—this desperate, clutching fear of their status being threatened—that had led to their disastrous choices in the first place.

Soon, the high-rise perimeter came into view: seventy-foot walls of obsidian stone, built to contain and annihilate anything unlucky enough to catch the Yaarou’s gaze or threaten their hold on power. Rinnala hated this place. The oppressive smell of damp copper, ozone, and old blood always clung to her skin.

Fortunately, they did not linger in the pits below. They were escorted directly to the summit of the central spire, entering a penthouse suite that stood as a stark, luxurious contrast to the miserable keep beneath it. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the rain-drenched territory.

Hitomi, the X’hion of the Yaarou, stood by the far window, her silhouette framed by gray storm clouds. Rinnala quietly detached herself from the group, taking up her position at the eastern corner of the room while Hitomi began her cold deliberation with the Elders.

The atmosphere remained taut until Hitomi reached into the heavy folds of her crimson robes, pulled out a wet, heavy sack, and unceremoniously dumped its contents onto the center of the mahogany table.

A severed head rolled to a stop, its dull eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

The Elders recoiled, gasping as the horror of their summons finally began to take shape. Rinnala casually reached toward her jacket for her pack of cigarettes, but before she could pull one out, her eyes locked with Hitomi’s sharp, crimson glare.

"Captain Yatagane," Hitomi’s voice cut through the air like a blade. "What can you tell us about our friend here?"

Rinnala’s hand smoothly switched objectives, veering away from the cigarettes and slyly reaching into her inner pocket for a small leather notepad instead.

"Ah, let’s see... oh, here he is," Rinnala said dryly, flipping open the worn pages with a flick of her thumb. "Hisui Zarumasa. One of the Bingo Knights' finest. 33 Nightmare Rank Knight. He’s been in the game for over ten years—born to a low-born branch of a minor shinobi clan. A prodigal user of the ephemeral arts."

She turned a page, her voice cool and detached. "His abilities became so profound that he rapidly ground his way through the Bingo Knights' hierarchy, becoming one of the most infamous assassins on the continent. Specializing in..."

She tossed another page aside, looking directly at the trembling old men.

"...the assassination of high-profile political figures. Like a X’hion, perhaps?"

Her gaze traveled slowly between the Elders. Every single one of them looked as though they were about to collapse under the sheer weight of their panic.

"Don't worry," Rinnala said softly.

"I won't leave your minds to wander. I caught this vermin personally. I tortured him until he begged to reveal who sired his contract."

Hitomi stopped directly behind the head of the table.

"It was Elder Sevrin."

A collective gasp echoed through the suite, but Sevrin remained frozen, his knuckles white against his robes. "Nonsense," Sevrin rasped, trying to gather his legendary composure. "This is a fabrication! How could you possibly prove such a slanderous—"

"How could I have known, you ask?" Rinnala interrupted softly.

She raised her hands to her ears and unclasped a pair of heavy, black-stone earrings. As the metal broke contact with her skin, the subtle glamour maintaining the illusion of crimson eyes disintegrated. The deep red faded instantly, exposing her true, glowing azure gaze.

Sevrin’s breath hitched.

"My eyes, the Aoi Kaigen, grant me the ability to see beyond the present,"

Rinnala said, her voice dropping into a dark, hypnotic register.

"From the moment I returned home, just before I was dispatched to the Shi base... I saw it. I saw Qiyoto bathed in flames. And standing within its smoldering rubble, holding the keys to our destruction... I saw you, Sevrin."

She slid her notepad back into her coat, her azure eyes burning into the strategist's soul.

"It's cliché, honestly," Rinnala murmured with a cold, hollow smirk. "It's always the advisor that betrays the crown."

[The Yaarou Clan]

Silence lingered within the penthouse long after Captain Yatagane's words had faded. Not a sound was made outside of the rain whispering against the immense panes of enchanted glass overlooking the internment camps below.

Ayune was frozen where she stood, her widened eyes fixed upon Sevrin as though she were seeing him not as the man she had served beside for centuries... but as a complete stranger wearing his face.

Beside her, Jhun's jaw was slacked in awe.

His weathered hands tightened around the polished head of his cane until the old wood creaked beneath his grip. The color had drained from his knuckles, while disbelief and grief warred silently across the deep lines of his face.

But Hitomi? She remained perfectly composed, dangling the severed head lazily from her hand by blood-matted strands of dark hair. Thick crimson droplets crept over her fingers before spilling onto the pristine white sleeve of her robe. But she never acknowledged it. Her focus was fixated on the man before her, so much so that her gaze left Sevrin's blindfold. Not once.

"...No," Jhun whispered hoarsely, "No... Captain Yatagane must be mistaken." His gaze searched desperately for reassurance. "Tell them, Sevrin.. Explain yourself at once!"

Jhun's plea drifted across the room but no answer came. Sevrin neither denied the accusation nor defended himself. His blindfold concealed his ruined eyes, but not the weight settling across his shoulders.

For several agonizing moments, even his breathing seemed to cease.. stretching the silence in the room even further. Long enough for Ayune to feel her heartbeat pounding inside her ears. Long enough for Jhun's certainty to collapse beneath the mounting dread.. So long, that even Hitomi's mocking smirk stilled into a sharp line of disappointment.

“..well? Speak up, Elder. ” She said almost gently. Regarded him with the same detached interest one might reserve for a particularly fascinating specimen.. or toy. "The assassin already confessed." She slowly raised the severed head between them. “..even went so far as to give you up by name, and draw up a little picture before Rinnala cut off his fingers.” She tilted her head. “..Will you continue lying? Even now?”

Sevrin did not answer.

Rinnala's accusation had shaken the room, but despite his silence, it had not broken him. Even now, despite the cold sweat gathering beneath his blindfold, the old strategist clung desperately to the composure that had carried him through centuries of political intrigue. His breathing remained measured.. before a single quiet sigh escaped him.

“..no.”

The single word seemed to empty the room of air.

Ayune's hand flew instinctively to her mouth. Jhun shut his eyes in disbelief. Even the attending Gōkùdo agents stationed throughout the penthouse exchanged uncertain glances.

Sevrin continued as he adjusted his robes. "...There is little purpose in denying the inevitable." He then turned his head toward Hitomi. "It is true. I commissioned the assassination.” He said as his hands tightened into fists. “And my only regret is his incompetence.”

Ayune's eyes widened. "Sevrin..."

Jhun stared at the old strategist as though it pained him. "...Why?" The question fell from his lips almost involuntarily.

"Why?" Sevrin remained looking toward Hitomi. "..Because I fear her.. As you all do."

Hitomi's expression did not change.

"I fear what she represents. What she's become.."He slowly removed his blindfold. Clouded, sightless eyes stared unerringly toward Hitomi. "I have served three generations of Xhi'on.. My entire life has been devoted to ensuring that no ruler—no matter how gifted—stood beyond the wisdom of those who came before. Beyond The Clan.”

His voice remained steady.

"But then you were born." He shook his head slowly. “Born with power unlike anything our clan had witnessed.”

A bitterness in his voice softened into something almost mournful.

“You achieved the impossible before reaching adulthood, defeated enemies our greatest warriors could scarcely survive." A languid smile found him. "And because of it.. Because of this Endless Art and the power it's bestowed on you, everyone around you has stopped questioning you."

His gaze drifted toward Ayune and then to Jhun before returning to Hitomi. And when he did, his voice hardened.

"..no, instead they worship you. They've become sycophants who've mistook your victories for infallibility. Servants that you allow to confuse fear for reverence."

His words echoed softly between his breaths and pauses. He half expected Hitomi to interject or stop him, but when she didn't.. he continued.

"You are brilliant.. And unmistakably strong. But you are also impulsive. Arrogant. You disregard centuries of counsel because you believe your judgment superior, and yourself incapable of error.. You discard lives as though they were stones beneath your feet, and have gone so far as slaying your Elders should they earn your ire.”

He took another slow breath.

"You ask my motive, Jhun?" His jaw tightened. “It's because Hayate was right. I believe her ambition will become the death of our people long before any enemy ever could.” His voice softened. "I sought her death because I took an oath to do whatever necessary to preserve the Yaarou. One I plan to uphold until the day I am buried.”

No one moved.

Ayune's eyes shimmered with tears.

Jhun remained utterly motionless.

Even the rain beyond the glass seemed to diminish beneath the unbearable stillness.

But then, Hitomi snickered.

"...I see." She turned toward Ayune, lowering the severed head down to her side. "And you?"

The elderly woman visibly stiffened. "My Lady..."

"Do you share his fears?"

Ayune couldn't respond, but her silence was enough. Hitomi then looked toward Jhun. "...what about you?"

The oldest Elder lowered his gaze. "...I.”

He began, but nothing more came out of his mouth.

Hitomi smiled. "...good." and looked back toward Sevrin. “I like it this way. But.. That explains why you all decided to weaponize the Defiler against the Serpent. I suppose if he succeeded, you would've simply pointed his blade toward me.”

Jhun finally spoke out. "Lady Xhion—"

"No." But then Sevrin interjected. "It was my decision."

Both elders turned toward him.

"I convinced them to bind Hiroshi using the Five Pronged Nayl Of Heaven so that the council could influence his actions.. The responsibility is mine." He said, lowering his head. But Hitomi regarded him for several moments before she looked toward Jhun and Ayune.

"How noble." Then her smile disappeared. "..Though I think that makes it worse, no?” Neither of them said a word. "You both followed him, right? Just Surrendered your centuries of judgment and wisdom and experience.. because an old man raised his voice and spoke with conviction?

Her expression hardened.

"...Like fucking dogs.”

Her words struck harder than a slap in the face. But neither Elder defended themselves.

Hitomi sucked her teeth. "...pathetic."

Without looking away, she raised one finger and the penthouse doors immediately burst open. In seconds, nearly a dozen men dressed in immaculate black suits entered in disciplined formation.. and surrounded Sevrin before he had a chance to react.

"What is the meaning of—"

"Take him."

Eight men responded to Hitomi's command and seized him instantly.

"Unhand me!" He struggled with surprising strength despite his age. "I am still an Elder Of the Yaarou Council!" He belted, thrashing about before one guard forced both arms behind his back. "Hitomi! STOP THIS!”

His composure finally shattered.

"You are making a mistake!! I did what I did for the Clan! For our people! I SAVED THEM FROM THE BLACK SUN WHILE YOU SLEPT!!” His voice echoed through the chamber as the guards dragged him toward the doors. “PRETENDER! YOU ARE NO XHION! YOU ARE NO GOD—”

His cries continued even as he was hauled into the corridor. “Just loud and wrong..” Hitomi said mostly to herself as she looked back at Ayune and Jhun.

"I should execute both of you."

Neither of them looked up to argue.

"..hell I still might."

Another pause.

"...But not today." She looked toward the enormous glass overlooking the slave camp. "Today, I have something else to show you."

Only then did she finally drop the severed head. It struck the marble with a wet crack before rolling lazily across the polished floor, leaving a winding trail of crimson behind it. With her other hand she reached inside her sleeve and withdrew the leather notebook she had carried since leaving New Vorelia. She flipped through dozens of densely annotated pages of equations, runes, ancient Vorelian scripts, and diagrams copied from web covered tomes. Finally, she tore out a page that bore a single intricate sigil— one unlike anything the Elders had ever seen, and she handed it to one of the waiting Gōkùdo agents.

"Replicate this."

The man accepted it carefully. "...My Lady?"

"Four times." She pointed toward the slave encampment below. "North, South, East, West. Be sure that each mark is exactly as illustrated."

The agent bowed. "At once, Lady Xhion." And then he disappeared.

Ayune's breathing quickened as she watched Hitomi walk toward the towering glass overlooking the camps.

"...what will become of him." Ayune's voice cracked.

“..A demonstration.” Hitomi intoned without looking over her shoulder. “Treachery of this scale demands a spectacle, wouldn't you agree?”

Ayune took a breath, and found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the storm forming outside the window.

"...Treachery was never our intent," she said quietly. "..but in your absence, we were frightened."

Hitomi did not answer.

"We truly believed..." Ayune continued, "...that if Hiroshi could be restrained... if the Five-Pronged Nail of Heaven remained intact... then perhaps we could direct his hatred, and protect the Clan from the Nether Serpent.”

Her voice faltered. "...but we were fools." A bitter laugh escaped her. "..fools to believe we could manipulate someone as powerful as the Defiler."

"Not entirely." Hitomi said softly, much to Ayune's confusion. She continued behind a sly smirk. "You misunderstand." Slowly, she looked over her shoulder. "...releasing Hiroshi from the Yaarou Dungeon was my idea afterall. You all just assumed it was because I desired his strength..”

She shook her head.

"..but it yhhwas his knowledge I wanted. My grandfather possessed truths buried beneath twelve thousand years of ignorance. And you all simply lacked the vision to understand what you were looking at."

Jhun frowned.

"...Knowledge?"

"The Tome of Morai." Hitomi answered immediately. “He ripped pages from its ledger and stored them for himself to further his arcane innovations. He hoarded information that existed nowhere else outside of, you guessed it, the Inuki Athenaeum.”

Her crimson eyes gleamed. As she looked toward her notebook.

"..and after studying them both and comparing my notes, I finally understand. I have everything I need to do what he could only dream of.”

She then tossed the notebook to the wayside and folded her bloodied hands behind her back.

"Hiroshi was born Hexless. Worse than that, he possessed little to no aptitude for strategy or combat. He was a scholar, but in a world of Shionbi, his name should have faded into obscurity. He should have remained insignificant. And yet, he nearly became an immortal.. A sorcerer capable of vanquishing armies and challenging gods.”

She smiled.

"...and do you know how?"

Neither Elder answered. Their confusion and intrigue now palpable.

"He created something." She paused. "Something that allowed him to create an Ephemeral Art of his own design, capable of stealing the Hexcraft from his clansmen, and so much more.”

Both elders stared blankly as Hitomi glanced over her shoulder.

"It is known as a Hedron—a gem-like vessel generated from the transmutation of hundreds of thousands of souls.” She said drawing a model of the fabled crystal on the window using her bloodied fingers. “It was why he killed all of the acolytes. He abused his position as an elder to the clan and gathered them all—nearly three thousand boys and girls and distilled their souls into a raw, arcane force.” She continued, turning now to the storm clouds gathering above the compound.

“Hiroshi embedded the arcane crystal into his spear, Shōsen Kōbari, and he used it as an engine for unlimited power.. but the Hedron he crafted was imperfect— unstable. I wasn't sure until I saw him fight the Serpent. And after studying Inuki, I finally have the missing pieces to complete his work.”

Jhun whispered, as the realization suddenly dawned on him. "Wait.. You're speaking of Old Vorelia..."

Hitomi looked at him.

"There are legends of The Mad King and an entire Kingdom that vanished in a single night. You mean this is what happened to the Inuki's ancestors? They sought this.. Hedron?”

"King Qalith Vo'rel was a fool.” Hitomi said dismissively. "He was nowhere near my equal."

At that precise moment, the voice of a Gōkùdo agent came through the communicator embedded in Hitomi's ear.

"My Lady. All four sigils have been completed."

"...excellent." She glanced down at the encampments, and watched as the guards dragged Sevrin through the compound. The old man struggled desperately as the guards forced him through the massive gates separating one section of the camp from another until they eventually tossed him into the dirt.

The once-revered Elder struggled to regain his footing as frightened prisoners instinctively stopped working and pulled away from him, uncertain whether to help him or avoid attracting the guards' attention.

Countless faces stared upward at the looming penthouse just as Hitomi lifted her hand and dragged her thumbnail across her palm. Blood welled immediately until she quickly pressed her hand against the window. Then slowly, she began tracing the same intricate sigil her agents had carved around the encampment. Every line she drew seemed to sink into the glass itself, and when she finished, the symbol pulsed like a beating heart. The air within the penthouse became considerably.. thinner. Almost nonexistent.

Ayune seemed to be the first to feel this spiritual tension, and took an instinctive step back. “What.. Is this?”

“Haven't you been listening?” Hitomi responded, no longer able to hold back her excitement. “This is my ascension.”

She then rested her bloodied hand against the completed symbol, closed her eyes, and began chanting in ancient Vorelian. The blood drawn sigil on the glass answered with a melodic hum. Along with the four enormous crimson circles outside.

[Rinnala Yaarou]

The air in the high-altitude penthouse was thick, heavy with metallic tang and the silent, weightless drop of a guillotine suspended mid-fall.

Rinnala’s azure eyes bounced from Elder to Elder. First to Ayune, whose ancient face was carved with silent apprehension, then to Jhune, who looked as though he were trying to summon the ghosts of old legends to shield her. Finally, Rinnala’s gaze lingered on Sevrin.

She awaited his response, almost eagerly, a cold and calculating curiosity flickering behind her stoic exterior. She wondered what would prove to be the mettle from which the Elder who dared to organize high treason against the Yaarou’s Leader was forged. She expected pandering. She expected him to throw the other Elders under the carriage for their complacency—which, if anyone asked her, was just as damning as his active conspiracy. These were not mere hatchling shinobi. These were the most seasoned pillars carrying the Yaarou name, and if they lacked integrity, what could truly be said about any of them?

Indeed, if word ever got out about this internal rot, compounded by the knowledge that the Yaarou were currently without a main base, the bottom-feeder clans of Edo would begin circling like vultures, looking to become bigger fish in a very bloody pond.

But much to the Yatagane’s surprise, Sevrin did neither of those things. He did not beg. He did not deflect. Instead, the disgraced Elder doubled down on his choices, launching into a bitter, spitting tirade to validate his betrayal. And as his voice echoed off the reinforced glass, the underlying truth that bonded these ancient Elders together became painfully clear.

It was a truth that made them totally inept at serving Hitomi any further.

Fear.

They were terrified.

Rinnala let out a quiet, almost imperceptible breath, her lips curling into a faint, disdainful sneer. How could those whose every action was clouded by such an emotion serve a leader who was born in defiance of the very notion?

Hitomi, for better or worse, did not know a hierarchy born of fear. She knew nothing of caution. It was not a trait she had been taught, nor a survival mechanism she had been raised to adopt.

It was an innate spark.

Hitomi was defiance incarnate, viewing the world through a lens that only a select few could ever hope to perceive: the lens of true, absolute power.

That was what had drawn Rinnala to her. Up until today, up until this very moment on the bridge of the impossibly fast Theta Jet, Rinnala had only heard tales of Hitomi’s exploits. From the very first whisper, she had known the girl was special. It was not merely due to her strength; Rinnala’s own azure-fueled precognition warned her of cosmic entities in this world that defied even Hitomi’s current level of power.

No, what mesmerized Rinnala was the manifestation of a will so absolute, so devastatingly potent, that the universe itself seemed to fold around her. It was as if destiny willingly rewrote its own laws to accommodate whatever Hitomi sought.

And to think, the girl was only eighteen years old.

Eighteen. While other youth of Edo spent their teenage years fumbling through simple jutsu drafts or drowning in petty clan politics, Hitomi was unraveling the darkest secrets of the cosmos. Rinnala’s mind flashed to the chilling revelation Hitomi had casually delivered during their flight. The Hedron—a fearsome, unstable engine of arcane power—had cost her grandfather Hiroshi the lives of thousands of slaughtered young acolytes and children to forge. It was a horrific, incomplete monument of blood. Yet Hitomi, at a mere eighteen, had studied the forbidden texts of the Inuki and perfected the soul-craft her ancestor had failed to master.

When Elder Jhun had fearfully compared her to the legends of Old Vorelia, and the vanished Mad King, Qalith Vo’rel, Hitomi had dismissed the ancient ruler with a cold, terrifying indifference.

He was nowhere near my equal.

Rinnala believed her. She respected that ruthless pursuit of evolution. As an unforgiving perfectionist who viewed any outcome short of her ultimate goals as a harrowing embarrassment, Rinnala despised the old guard's stagnant traditions. The Elders were children playing with matches.

Hitomi was the wildfire.

And Rinnala needed that wildfire.

She cared nothing for personal prestige or the empty politics of Edo. She sought redemption—not for herself, but to wash away the historic shame of the Yatagane name, to drag her family’s legacy out of the dirt. She needed a power strong enough to defy deities. She needed the strength to slay the Nether Serpent, to reach the peak of Stellar Supreme without regard for its title. She did covet the position herself.

But most of all, she needed to kill Jao Shi. She needed to eradicate the entire Shi bloodline, root and stem, for the sins they had committed against her house. Only then would Edo know true peace. Only then would the world be purged of the rot that threatened to consume it.

Down below, through the massive glass window, the grim reality of Hitomi’s will was taking shape.

The Gōkūdo agents had reported in. The four sigils around the perimeter were primed. Through the rain and the muck of the encampment gates, guards violently dragged Sevrin, throwing him face-first into the dirt like common refuse among the terrified prisoners. He was no longer an Elder. He was raw material.

Hitomi stood before the window, looking down at the compound with eyes that held the weight of a god. With a slow, deliberate movement, she dragged her thumbnail across her own palm. Crimson welled instantly.

Without a word, she began to draw an intricate, glowing arcane sigil directly onto the glass, linking her own royal blood to the terrible magic waiting in the dirt below.

Rinnala watched the blood smear against the pane, the reflection of the crimson light dancing in her own azure eyes.

She did not need her future sight to know the truth of this moment. There was nothing in this world, or the next, that would stop Hitomi from reaching her goals.

And Rinnala would be right beside her, holding the blade that cut the throat of destiny.

[The Yaarou Clan]

Ancient Vorelian did not resemble any language spoken upon Vescrutia.

Each word possessed too many consonants, too many impossible inflections for mortal tongues to properly shape. The first syllable left Hitomi's lips like the toll of an ancient bell, deep and resonant, carrying with it a cadence that seemed older than civilization itself.

The sound reverberated throughout the penthouse without ever becoming louder, yet everyone present felt it settle inside their bones. It bypassed the ear entirely, vibrating through marrow and memory alike, awakening something primal that every living creature seemed to recognize. Fear.

Ayune's breath caught in her throat.

"...What..." she whispered, struggling to steady herself. "...What is she saying?"

Jhun never removed his eyes from the blood sigil spreading across the enchanted glass.

"...Old Vorelian." His answer was little more than a whisper. "...An archaic dialect. Several thousand years old." His brow slowly furrowed. "...But when did she learn it?”

Another phrase escaped Hitomi's lips and immediately, the blood she had smeared upon the window ignited with a deep vermillion glow and began to mutate. Lines branched from lines, each rune dividing into dozens more until the enchanted pane resembled less a window and more an macabre manuscript written by something older than civilization. The crimson script continued stitching itself across every inch of glass until spilling over the frame and creeping across the marble beneath Hitomi's feet.

Each character pulsed in rhythm with her voice.. Each syllable added another verse to the impossible scripture.

And beyond the glass—

The four colossal symbols surrounding the internment camp erupted into pillars of scarlet radiance that climbed thousands of feet into the heavens. The wild surge of power generated an immense vortex in the clouds that swallowed the storm front, and revealed a widening arcane sigil directly above that stretched nearly the entire encampment.

The prisoners were the first to see it. One by one, thousands of them looked skyward and even those who understood nothing of Hexcraft recognized the instinctive dread settling into their bones.

The sensation settled over the compound like an invisible tide. The air grew unnaturally heavy, pressing against lungs already exhausted from years of servitude. Heat radiated from nowhere, dry and oppressive, until breathing itself became laborious.

Even the guards exchanged uncertain glances.

"What..." one muttered beneath a staggered breath. "...What the hell is that?”

The question slithered through every corner of the camps, but none could answer.

Far below the penthouse, Sevrin struggled upright amidst the sea of prisoners. Dirt stained his ceremonial robes while desperate hands continued reaching toward him, pleading for salvation from the only man among them dressed as nobility.

Soon his gaze too, was drawn toward the arcane symbols blistering overhead. And though blind to the sigil itself, he felt the dark energy surging from the penthouse settle upon his shoulders with crushing weight.

“Hitomi!” His voice echoed useless across the valley “Whatever your play child, you must stop this at once!” His words dissolved beneath the growing hum resonating throughout the atmosphere. “The compound was not built to withstand this level of energy! You will destroy everything!!”

The prisoners around him backed away instinctively. And soon, hymns of terror began to spread through the encampment like a virus. Fear and confusion, even among the Yaarou guards. Ayune could feel it too and it made her face go pale.

"...Jhun…” again, she called to the man trembling alongside her. "...What is she doing?"

The old Elder did not answer immediately.

His weathered eyes remained fixed upon the heavens beyond the blood-soaked manuscript coating the window. And slowly, Understanding eclipsed disbelief.. and the dark realization had dawned on him.

His cane slipped from numb fingers and struck the marble with a hollow crack.

“By the Gods..” he muttered to himself. "She isn't casting a spell… she's preparing a sacrifice." He said, stumbling into Ayune's hands after losing his footing. “She means to gamble this entire island.. and the souls of everyone on it.. for power.”

Ayune's eyes widened into moons. “My Xhion!” She pleaded weakly. “This--this isn't right!”

But Hitomi never stopped chanting. The bloody sigil continued to spread along the marble like the hungry vines of a murderous plant. Then, when it was done– and the enormous sigil outside was finally complete. Everything became still.

The shriek of the storm.. The blistering rain.. The cries of retreating flocks.. The drone of machinery. All gone. It was as if the entire island stopped breathing all at once. But that modicum of peace didn't last long at all.

Then screams..

A violent chorus of screams erupted across the valley with such overwhelming force that the enchanted glass vibrated beneath the sound alone. Men, women, and children. Tens of thousands of them began clawing at the eyes and throats as if they could feel something trying to burrow its way out.

Sevrin dropped to one knee with his hands covering his mouth, trying and failing to keep his insides from spilling between his fingers.

"No..." His voice curdled through the liquid. "No... no…”

A guard nearby tried to run, only to manage three steps before collapsing beside the prisoners.. and suffering a similar fate.

The spell made no distinction. Anyone beneath its ominous glow was susceptible to its influence.

Ayune stumbled backward from the window, struggling to support Jhun's weight. "...Stop this!" Her voice cracked. "Stop this Hitomi!"

Still, the Xhi'on did not respond. She couldn't even hear their voices beneath the reverberating sound of the incantation. She never faltered, not even for a breath. Her crimson eyes had become molten pits of dark, malevolent red.

Then.. the true harvest began.

From the eyes, nostrils and every orifice of the prisoners flowed spectral streams of vermillion light. It was more than just their blood, but it was their souls. Their memories. Their very life force. The most quintessential aspects of who they were.

Tens of thousands of these tiny streams ascended together into vast rivers of pure Naten flowing toward the occult sigil burning overhead.

Below… The screaming slowly diminished as the victims no longer possessed the strength to do so. One after another, their bodies began to wither into husks as the seal pulled every iota of energy from them. Not even piles of ash were left where they fell, as that too was drawn into the celestial maw in the sky.

Sevrin looked around himself, and found the desperate prisoners no longer reaching for him or clamoring to escape. Their screams had faded, as did their existential fear. They simply stared into the heavens with vacant eyes while their very existence was harvested and distilled into the belly of the rune.

The same celestial light continued to pour out of his mouth and slip through his fingertips.. No matter how hard he tried to resist. "..please..." And even more seeped from his eyes and nose. “..no.” Before long, he too felt all drained from his bones and his arms fell lifeless at his sides. And though he couldn't see her face, chanting incessantly while occult symbols spread across her face, Sevrin cursed Hitomi Yaarou with every fiber of his being. Or at least with whatever he had left before he was seized by this cosmic doom.

The process was grueling.. for all involved.

Even Hitomi, the architect of this hellish symphony, was not spared its price. Occult scriptures, brilliant and crimson, spread across her skin in endless branching patterns. They crawled beneath the flesh of her neck, down her arms, and across her face like living parasites searching for marrow. Every syllable she uttered branded another verse into her body.

Her breathing became ragged.. Then violent.

Her shoulders convulsed as another impossible word escaped her lips, and for the briefest instant the blood vessels beneath her skin illuminated like molten veins.

Ayune recoiled.

"...Jhun..."

The old man could only stare.

"...The ritual..." he whispered. "...It is consuming its her.."

Indeed, it was. But outside, the dark ceremony was nearing completion..

The colossal sigil had completed its final revolution. Its countless rings were perfectly aligned and its inscriptions blazed brighter than a dying star. Then every stream of harvested essence feeding its center suddenly ceased, as though the ritual itself had eaten its full. And for a single moment, nothing happened.

The gargantuan rune remained motionless above the valley, swollen with the distilled quintessence of tens of thousands of souls.

Then—the heavens split.

A single pillar of incandescent light erupted from the heart of the sigil and crashed into the center of the encampment below. And the impact arrived with such profound force that the entirety of the Western Isles lurched beneath it. A deafening concussion tore across the archipelago, flattening entire sections of the compound before racing outward over the Freshwater Sea for hundreds of miles.

The enchantments placed along the Gōkùdo Compound struggled to hold the facility in place, but the island suffered a hurricane of collateral damage.

When it was done, the ominous sigil above cracked and shattered into fragments of shimmering scarlet that dissipated in the roaring gales. Taking with it the foreboding clouds and the oppressive weight blanketing the fortress. Nothing but debris, destruction, and silence lingered beyond choking clouds of smoke covering the compound.

There were no bodies. No blood or ash. Nothing remained of Sevrin or the thousands condemned alongside him. The spell had demanded every fragment of their existence.
Even the memory of these unfortunate souls seemed to fade beneath the roar of thunder rolled once more across the darkened sky.

The chaos had passed.

Within the penthouse, the bloody sigil covering the enchanted window soon lost all cohesion and slid downward like melting paint before splashing across the marble and gathering into a dark ankle high pool at Hitomi's feet.

Only then did the chanting cease, but the second it did her knees buckled without warning, and Hitomi pitched forward as though every bone in her body had been hollowed out.

"Lady Xhi'on!"

Several Gōkùdo agents rushed from the perimeter of the chamber, catching her before she struck the floor. Ayune and Jhun instinctively stepped forward as well. But the moment they saw her clearly… Both of them froze

"..oh god.." Jhun whispered as his gaze settled on her face. The woman they had followed into this chamber scarcely resembled the one now hanging between her attendants.

Her beauty had been ravaged.

The smooth porcelain complexion that had made Hitomi seem almost ethereal now sagged loosely against her face, etched with deep lines that had not existed minutes before. Ancient Vorelian inscriptions remained burned beneath her skin, faintly pulsing before slowly fading into scar-like brands that covered her entire body.

Her once lustrous white hair had become brittle wisps of ashen hay, hanging in uneven strands around a face that now appeared decades—perhaps a century—older.

Even her frame had diminished. She seemed smaller. Frailer. The attendants adjusted their grip almost instinctively, but it was as if she could break in their arms at any moment.

Ayune covered her mouth, unable to suppress the horrified gasp that escaped her. "What... has she done to herself..."

No one answered. The toll this ritual enacted upon her was unlike anyone of them had ever seen. In addition to the multitude of souls she'd harvested and sacrificed, it seemed as if decades of her life had been demanded as tribute as well. Each breath she drew sounded haggard, and every movement carried visible pain. For the first time since either Elder had known her.. the woman seemed helpless.

Jhun, who had taken care of her in childhood and adolescence.. also found himself petrified in disbelief, unable to even speak let alone act.

”M-my Lady?” One of the agents whispered in horror as they helped her to her feet. She was disoriented and mumbling incoherently when the man hurriedly pressed the communicator in his ear. “This is code black. Ignore all emergency protocols and deploy physicians to the Northern Penthouse immediately–”

“No..." The interruption came little more than a whisper. Yet every person in the room froze.

Hitomi's trembling hand seized the man's wrist with surprising force. "...Don't..." Her breathing hitched. "..touch... me..."

Her voice was hoarse and weak, barely a whisper among the gasps and confusion. But before anyone could react, she violently tore herself free from their grasp. Her weakened legs nearly betrayed her immediately until she composed herself against a nearby pillar. “..I must see it.. where is it!”

She whined as she trudged weakly through the blood sifting past her ankles. Her breathing grew harsher and every step seemed to bring her pain and exhaustion all at once, but she ignored her body's every protest and staggered toward the shattered horizon among the blood stained glass.

“Where is it?” She muttered incessantly through cracked lips. “Where is it?!”

Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.. Not the Elders. Not Rinnala. Not the agents. Not even the unbearable agony consuming her flesh.. Only the answer waiting beyond the window could soothe her obsession. “WHERE IS IT?!”

Only then, after pressing her wrinkled face against the cold wet glass, did her weathered gaze find what she was looking for.. At the very heart of the devastation below. It was as though she could hear it.. calling to her amidst drifting curtains of ash and pillars of lingering smoke. A solitary crimson light pulsating within the immense crater below.

It glowed with almost unsettling serenity.

No larger than the gemstone adorning a nobleman's ring, And yet the realm itself seemed unable to tolerate the occult force radiating from the tiny construct. Black arcs of condensed Naten snapped violently around its surface, each discharge unraveling the atmosphere before reality reluctantly stitched itself back together.

It was beautiful.

Hitomi's lips slowly parted into a smile, before a quiet brittle cackle slipped through her rotted teeth. "...Success..." The word escaped her in little more than a rasp. "...I... did it..." She hissed and pressed both hands against the enchanted glass. “It's.. mine!”

Then, the enchanted glass window pane exploded.

An ear-splitting crack echoed throughout the penthouse as countless fragments burst outward into the open air, raining glittering shards into the ruins below.

Immediately, a violent wind flooded the chamber, causing every inside to shield themselves from the sudden shift in altitude pressure. But the chilling blast was exactly what Jhun needed to tear him from his trance of confusion.

“Hitomi! Please! Stop this madness.” He howled through the scything gusts. “..look at what you've done to yourself.”

But Hitomi paid him no attention. She was focused— guiding one of her W'ryaiths beyond the broken window, and down through the shattered remains of the encampment until their spectral fingers reached her prize. However, the instant they touched it, the invisible construct deteriorated beneath Hedron's overwhelming energy.

Hitomi recoiled from the shock, but she was far from deterred. She persisted; deploying more and more and more.. until her groans began to echo from the penthouse. But in time, she managed to lift it.

Slowly, the gemstone ascended through the smoke and fire like a newborn star. And every foot it climbed caused the surrounding air to scream with distortion.

The moment it finally crossed the shattered window of the penthouse, every lantern and enchanted light within the chamber flickered violently before extinguishing altogether.

Only the light of Hedron remained.

Its radiance painted every face in shades of scarlet, casting impossibly long shadows that seemed to move independently across the walls. But the longer it remained inside, the more the floor beneath them groaned in protest. In seconds, hairline fractures spread outward in every direction. Followed Black arcs of Naten leaping from the crystal at irregular intervals and lashing at pillars and furniture.

Everyone in the room recoiled from scarlet crystal, all but Hitomi who brought it just inches above her outstretched palms.

“Yetinifni Ebuc..”

She hissed a silent chant, and the Hedron was concealed within a compact cube shaped matrix that fit in her hands. But while contained, the mass and weight of the construct was too heavy for her arms, and caused her to tumble onto the blood soaked floor. The emergency lights were triggered not a second later

Again, her attendants moved to aid her, but Hitomi held out a hand to halt any further move. “I..am fine.” She rasped, as she looked down upon the cobalt container in her hands. And upon its reflective surface, she could see her years of studying.. The Inuki Athenaeum.. The Destruction of Qiyoto.. Every sacrifice, she could see it all culminate in the face of the old woman staring back at her. Only then did Hitomi allow herself a breath of relief.. and laughed an ugly, crone-like laugh.

“I am more than fine.”