The morning sun cast a pale glow over the quiet streets of Tokyo, its golden light barely reaching the damp alleyways still shrouded in lingering mist. The city was slowly awakening—commuters hurried by, restaurant owners prepared for the day, and yet, in the shadows, a man scoured through a row of garbage cans, his hands shaking as he searched for something, anything to eat.

He was no ordinary man. He had a body resembling a huge monster, his clothes hung off him in tattered strips, his skin sallow, his eyes sunken with hunger that had long since eroded his humanity. His trembling fingers clawed at discarded scraps, his breath ragged and shallow.

A few streets away, an old man stood on a makeshift platform, delivering impassioned prayers to the indifferent passersby. His deep, weathered voice rose above the hum of the waking city.

"Rejoice and grieve! For today, the gods grant us clarity—clarity to witness the decay of our world! To reflect upon the sins that have led us here!" he declared, ringing a small brass bell with each proclamation.

Yet few stopped to listen. With a sigh, he retreated into a nearby alley, shaking his head. "These young ones, blind to how broken society has become," he muttered, gripping an old, polished orb in his hand—his most treasured relic.

He traced its surface with his fingers, eyes filled with longing. "If only you could guide me once more, Christine."

Just as he closed his eyes to take a sip from his water bottle, a loud, thunderous banging echoed through the narrow passageway. The sudden noise sent a shiver down his spine, his hands fumbling the orb, sending it rolling toward the commotion. Panic seized him as he scrambled to retrieve it, unwilling to abandon his sacred relic. But as he drew closer, the noise grew—deep, resounding thuds that rattled the very walls.

"Those aren't the sounds of construction," he realized, a chill settling into his bones. "These are footsteps... something enormous."

The clamor suddenly ceased.

A suffocating silence followed, thick with dread. The old man barely dared to breathe, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew he should turn and flee, but something held him still. Then, from above, a single brick tumbled loose, shattering against the pavement. The old man swallowed hard.

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"No... I will not cower again," he whispered, determination flashing in his weary eyes. Gripping the orb tightly, he edged toward the source of the sound.

Rounding the corner, he glimpsed an immense shadow stretching against the morning light, its shape distorted by the mist. He hesitated. It loomed in the alleyway, a massive, shifting silhouette. He took another cautious step forward, his breath catching.

As the mist thinned, the shadow revealed itself—a large, billowing black sheet draped over a stack of scaffolding. The old man exhaled sharply, relief washing over him. "Just a tarp... nothing more."

But then—

THWACK!

Pain exploded through his body. A force like a sledgehammer struck him, hurling him against the brick wall. His limbs cracked on impact, a sharp cry escaping his lips. Agony coursed through him, yet somehow, his fingers never loosened their grip on the orb.

The creature that struck him now stood in the dim morning light.

A man—no, a monstrous thing in human form. His clothes were ragged, his body gaunt, but his limbs... his limbs were grotesquely swollen, fingers distended into massive, claw-like hands. His breathing was shallow, labored, each exhale carrying a desperate, ravenous need.

The old man’s voice trembled. "W-what... what are you?"

The thing before him barely acknowledged the question. Its cracked lips parted, revealing jagged, broken teeth.

"I'm... hungry..." it rasped.

"I... I want food..."

"GIVE ME FOOD!"

The sheer desperation in its voice sent a fresh wave of terror through the old man. He had spent his life contemplating death, had spoken of it with confidence and reverence. But now, facing it, he realized he feared not the end—but the unknown beyond it.

He closed his eyes. "Christine... I never truly understood why you had to die."

The creature lunged, its massive hands poised to crush him.

Then, a deafening explosion rocked the alleyway.

A figure plummeted from the sky, colliding with the monster and sending a shockwave through the surroundings. Smoke and debris filled the air. The force of impact sent tremors through the earth, and the old man shielded his eyes against the blinding light of the blast.

When the dust settled, he saw her.

A woman, standing amidst the rubble, her presence overwhelming. Her silhouette was sharp against the morning sun, her stance unwavering.

The old man’s breath hitched—not in relief, but in an even deeper, more primal fear.

Not because of the explosion or because he was rescued from certain death, but because a more powerful and frightening beast had come down from the heavens.

He had no idea what she was.

But one thing was certain.

And that was for the wicked girl to leave him alone.