Hours passed as they moved along the ridge. The oppressive pressure of wild mana—the kind that twisted beasts and rotted bones—began to thin. Slowly, steadily, they were leaving the dead zone behind.
Saru didn't speak much.
Perched on Yami's shoulder, the boy was quiet but alert, his golden eyes constantly moving. He wasn't just looking—he was absorbing. Every rustling leaf, every chirping bird, every curl of wind twisting around stone. He drank in the world like he hadn't seen it in centuries.
His senses were sharp. Instinctive. Too sharp for someone so small.
Then—suddenly—his head snapped toward the horizon.
"Wait."
Yami's boots scraped to a stop. He glanced at the boy, then followed his gaze. "What is it now?"
Saru didn't answer.
His eyes locked onto something far, far away—almost beyond what mortal sight should see. He squinted, then slowly raised a hand and pointed.
"There."
Yami followed the line of his finger. At first, he saw nothing. Then—
A shadow in the sky.
Thin. Narrow. Vertical. Like a single stick had been driven through the clouds, piercing the heavens themselves.
"…That pillar," Saru whispered, eyes wide. "It's not just a pillar."
His breath quickened. His heart thundered against his chest.
"I can feel it. It's mine."
His voice didn't tremble with fear. It shook with awe.
"I want it. Yami, take me there."
Yami stared at him, then at the colossal structure in the distance. "…Are you mad, kid? That thing's massive. Reaches halfway to the sun. How the hell can a building that size belong to anyone?"
"Stupid Yami!" Saru snapped, stamping his foot on Yami's shoulder like an impatient cat. "I told you—it's mine! I want it! I want it!"
"…You throwing a tantrum now?" Yami sighed, a bit of unease slipping into his voice.
"Wait. If you don't even have your memory… how do you know it's yours? Are you messing with me, monkey?"
Saru slowly shook his head. Then, just as slowly… he nodded.
"My hands remember," he said. "My body knows it—even if my mind doesn't."
Silence fell between them. Only the wind answered, howling across the ridge like a warning.
Yami lit a cigarette. Took a slow drag.
"…Alright, monkey. When we're done at base, we'll check it out."
Saru didn't reply. He didn't have to.
He was already staring again—locked on the towering shape that speared the clouds like a divine nail. His tail flicked once behind him.
That thing wasn't just calling him.
It was him.
Later, when they reached the cliff's edge, the shadow of the pillar had grown sharper, clearer. Sunlight glanced off its surface, casting golden reflections through the sky.
Saru froze on the path. His breath caught.
"…Yami," he said, voice trembling now. "We need to go back. Now."
Yami narrowed his eyes. "We just left that damn hellhole."
"I don't care." Saru's voice had changed—hardened. Sharper. Fierce. "That pillar… it's mine. I can feel it. It's calling me."
Yami stared at him. Something about the kid was different now. Not just excited—but urgent. Like something inside him was coming undone.
"You sure?" he asked quietly. "That thing's leaking mana that ain't natural. Ancient. Wild. Not even sure a human should stand near it, let alone touch it."
"I don't care," Saru said again, staring up at him. His tail lashed once behind him. "Take me there. Or I'll go on my own."
Another pause. The wind picked up.
Yami exhaled smoke. His cigarette burned low, ashes scattering in the wind.
"…Tch. Fine," he muttered, turning on his heel. "If we die, I'm blaming your damn monkey instincts."
Saru grinned.
The journey back was silent. Tense.
Clouds gathered overhead, swirling around the towering shape in the sky. Lightning crackled in the distance—quiet, but close. Yet no rain fell. The air tasted of iron.
The closer they got, the louder it became.
The humming.
The ground itself pulsed—low, steady, like a living heartbeat. Vines that once clung to the base of the pillar had slithered away, revealing etched glyphs that shimmered faintly with light. Symbols older than language. Older than magic.
Saru stepped forward.
Yami grabbed his shoulder, voice low and firm. "Stop."
He wasn't joking anymore.
"That thing ain't just a pillar. It's a relic. Could be cursed. Could be a seal. Could blow us both to hell."
Saru looked back at him, calm. Unwavering.
"…Even if it does," he said, "I want to know who I am. This… this is a part of me. I can feel it."
Yami hesitated. For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
That tone. That look. It reminded him of someone.
Someone long gone.
"…Don't say I didn't warn you."
Saru nodded once.
And walked forward.
Each step echoed on solid earth, though the ground didn't move. The closer he came, the brighter the glyphs became—golden light flowing like molten veins down the stone's surface. Wind kicked up around him. Dust swirled, spiraling into the air like a storm waiting to be born.
Then—
His fingers touched the pillar.
"WAIT—!" Yami roared—
But it was too late.
The world exploded in light.
A blast of golden energy surged outward in a circle, tearing through the ground and blowing debris in every direction. Yami shielded his eyes as the shockwave cracked stone and sent birds screaming into the sky.
The pillar began to glow brighter—pulsing now. Like it was… waking up.
Golden lines ran down its length like veins. The earth beneath it trembled.
And in that moment—Saru saw something.
A memory.
But not a memory.
He stood in a vast black hall, seated upon a throne carved from mountain bone. Before him—an army of devils. Waiting. Growling. Daring to rise against him.
And he?
He rose slowly.
In his hand—no, beside his throne—rested a staff. Long. Golden. Alive.
He reached for it, and the staff shivered, like it recognized his touch. Like it had waited for him all this time.
He smiled. Fingers curling around its hilt.
"Are you excited, Nyoi-Bo?" he whispered to it.
The staff gleamed in answer.
Saru's eyes snapped open.
His heart thudded in his chest—but not in fear. In clarity.
That pillar… it wasn't just stone.
It was the staff.
His staff.
Saru stepped forward, wind whipping around him. His voice rang out, echoing above the rising storm.
"SHRINK—NYOI-BO!"
For a moment—silence.
Then—
CRACK.
The air split open.
The pillar groaned—metal against magic, memory against reality—and shattered.
A thunderous roar echoed as the massive structure collapsed inward, folding in on itself. Stone twisted. Light coiled. Dust swallowed the sky.
And when it cleared—
Saru stood at the center of the chaos.
In his hand—
A staff.
Golden. Sleek. Etched with the same ancient glyphs. It pulsed with warmth—alive, like it was breathing. Sparks shimmered along its surface.
Yami stared, mouth slightly agape. "…No damn way."
Saru looked down at it, his grip tightening gently around the staff.
"…Welcome back," he whispered.
The staff hummed softly. Responding.
It extended, just slightly, gleaming in the stormlight.
Saru turned back, golden eyes alight with something wild. Something free.
"I remember this," he said, voice soft. "Not in my mind… but in my body. My bones. I know how to use it."
He grinned—wide, excited, unrestrained.
"It's like I've always had it."
Yami scratched the back of his head, still trying to process what he was seeing. "That thing was a damn skyscraper five minutes ago. You just shrank it like a twig."
Saru twirled the staff once, and it extended mid-spin, shifting fluidly before retracting back to his side.
"I didn't shrink it," he said, catching it with ease. "I just told it to listen."
Another crack of thunder split the sky above.
Golden lightning arced across the clouds.
Saru stood tall, staff at his side, golden sparks dancing in the air around him.
"If this staff is mine… then so is the power that comes with it."
"I don't know who I am yet. But this… this chose me."
He met Yami's gaze, fire burning in his expression.
"And I'll find out everything—no matter what."
Yami stared at the boy for a long moment. Then—slowly—he smiled. A wide, toothy grin.
"You talk like one of us already."
The storm began to fade. The wind calmed.
And at the base of the vanished pillar, Saru stood alone.
No past.
No memories.
Only the name he'd been given…
And the staff that had always waited for his return.