Reika's fist collided with the Shikiban's skull with a sickening crack, the sound splitting the silence like glass shattering under pressure.
The creature's body jerked, spasming violently before it crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Blood sprayed across the barren desert, hot and thick, splattering onto her gloves. The metallic stench filled her nostrils, choking her. She fought the urge to gag, her stomach lurching.
She exhaled sharply, wiping her hands on the sand with a disgusted grimace. "Why do they always look like this?"Her voice was flat, but the flicker of irritation in her narrowed eyes betrayed her frustration. "Shikibans are supposed to be ugly, but these things… They're worse. They're... wrong."
The relentless heat of the desert felt suffocating, but it was nothing compared to the way her body trembled beneath her skin. Sweat mixed with dirt, plastering her clothes to her skin.
She dropped down onto the scorching sand, ignoring the burn as her limbs screamed for rest. Tch. Water. It should've been a luxury, but right now, it felt like the most basic need in the world. The desperation gnawed at her insides. But she refused to let it show. She wasn't weak.
Her eyes flicked to the massive gate in the distance, the next level waiting. The carvings on its surface pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat that wasn't hers. Watching. Waiting. The air felt… thick. Alive. A subtle hum that made the hairs on her neck stand on end.
"Level one is done. Four more to go."Her lips twisted into something that could've been a grimace or a smirk, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Where the hell are Daigo and Ishiga? If they're not dead, they will be soon if they don't figure out what we're up against."
She couldn't shake the unease crawling under her skin, a whisper in the back of her mind that something was wrong. Something bigger. But she pushed it aside, pressing forward despite the cold sweat trickling down her spine.
Daigo's fists slammed into the Shikiban's chest, each blow sinking into its armor-like flesh with a sickening thud. The creature screeched, thick blood bursting from its wounds with every strike. The stench was overpowering—rancid, sticking to the air, choking him with every breath.
A grin stretched across Daigo's face, his sharp canines gleaming in the dim light. He thrived on this. The fight, the violence—it made him feel alive. But even as his fists connected, a small voice in the back of his mind wondered if this would ever stop. If the violence would ever end.
"Just throw them already!"Daigo snapped, his voice a mix of irritation and exhilaration. "These things are like glue! Their blood's everywhere."
Ishiga wiped his hand across his pants, a look of disgust twisting his features as he slid his blade into another Shikiban's throat. The creature twitched, convulsing before falling still. "Don't forget," he muttered, wiping the blade clean. "Their teeth can drain you dry in seconds. Keep your guard up."
"Yeah, yeah,"Daigo shot back, swinging a brutal punch that sent another Shikiban sprawling. "I just want this over with."
The last Shikiban fell with a wet gurgle, its body crumpling in on itself. Silence stretched between them, broken only by Daigo's heavy breathing as he stretched his arms above his head, exhaling in satisfaction.
"Ha! That was easy."
Ishiga's gaze was cold, calculating. He didn't share Daigo's enthusiasm. His eyes narrowed as he glanced toward the looming gate ahead. "Easy? That was just the beginning."
Daigo's grin didn't falter, but something in his chest tightened. The air felt wrong.
A faint vibration rippled through the ground, the atmosphere thick with something unseen. A pulse—barely perceptible, but it made the hairs on his arms rise. Something was watching them.
Yeaga's final kick sent the last Shikiban's head snapping to the side, its body crumpling like an empty sack. He wiped his bloodied hands on his pants, grimacing.
"These things are vile." His voice was colder than usual, no arrogance, just a sharp edge of… unease? His gaze flicked to the gate, where the symbols seemed to twist, slowly, as if alive. His pulse quickened. That wasn't right.
His eyes tracked the shifting symbols, a deep, unsettling sensation crawling up his spine. The air felt like it was thickening, as if something unseen was pulling at the very fabric of reality.
He shook his head, forcing the feeling aside. "No time for this. Level two awaits."
But before he could take another step, he paused. A flicker of hesitation. What the hell was that feeling?
He glanced at Reika—or rather, at Kagetsu-san, as he reminded himself. There was a rare, almost reluctant softness in his expression. For a brief moment, the usual confidence faltered. Something felt off. But he wouldn't show it. He couldn't. Fear was a weakness.
"Reika-chan—"He caught himself, the slip of her name out of his mouth too casual. Too human. "No. Kagetsu-san," he corrected, his lips curling into a thin smile. The amusement in his eyes was sharp. She deserves the proper respect.
Reika stood before the entrance to level two, the wind whipping around her like a living thing, cold and biting. She barely noticed the figures in front of her at first, the black hoods concealing everything but their glowing, watchful eyes.
One of them stepped forward. "Congratulations, Kagetsu-san. You've passed level one."
Her heart rate didn't even spike, but a chill slithered up her spine, creeping under her skin. There's something wrong here.
Without answering, Reika's eyes scanned the surroundings, every shadow, every flicker of movement. Her mind was already in overdrive, calculating, assessing. The feeling of being watched—no, monitored—made her skin crawl.
"Got any tissues?" she asked, her voice flat, unaffected as she held up her bloodied hands. One of the figures wordlessly handed her a cloth. She took it without a second thought, wiping the sticky crimson off her hands, but her thoughts never slowed.
Another figure stepped forward, this time offering her a knife—a black blade gleaming in the dim light, its surface smooth and deadly. Along its edge, her name was etched in deep, blood-red script.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, but she didn't let it show. That wasn't there before. The faintest flicker of fear threatened to surface, but she crushed it, the chill of the blade grounding her. She wasn't afraid.
She took it from them, her fingers tightening around the handle, the weight familiar. The gate groaned as it slowly creaked open, revealing a world bathed in shadows—a warning, not an invitation.
Her gaze hardened, the weight of the situation settling over her like a dark cloud. "No matter what happens next… I will survive."
And with that, she stepped forward.
Daigo, Ishiga, and Yeaga stood at the entrance to level two, the air no longer scorching but bitterly cold. It bit through their clothes, seeping into their bones.
Yeaga smirked, but there was an edge to it. "Took you long enough."
Daigo cracked his knuckles, his breath visible in the freezing air. "Finally! Time for round two!"
Ishiga stood silent, his grey eyes narrowed, focused entirely on the gate. The intricate carvings shifted, just for a moment. Watching. Responding.
"Be careful,"he muttered, his voice low, serious. "This place… it's different."
Daigo waved him off, but his grin didn't reach his eyes. "If Reika can handle it, so can we."
Yeaga's smirk faltered, just a fraction. His gaze darkened. "She's not like us. She'll push herself until she breaks."
Ishiga's voice softened, almost reluctant. "That's why she'll survive."
The wind howled through the air, sharp, cutting. Something was watching. Something was waiting.
Daigo's grin returned, unfazed. "Then let's hurry up and catch up to her."
And they stepped forward, the gate looming before them, and the shadows… they stirred, as if welcoming them in.
Reika barely took two steps before the voice spoke, deep and unearthly.
"A human dares to enter...?"
The wind shifted, no longer just a force of nature. It had intent.It was alive.
Reika tightened her grip on the knife, her breath steady despite the cold sweat dripping down her neck.
"Wind Shikibans," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper. Level two.
A chilling laugh echoed through the darkness. "Welcome, Kagetsu Reika. Prove your strength... or perish."
The wind surged, razor-sharp, hungry, as if it was tasting her.
Reika didn't flinch.
"I will survive."
And then, the storm began.