Chapter Thirty-Three: Into the Unknown

Yozora and Reyes waited in silence, hidden within the dense cover of trees and jagged rocks. The moments stretched on, the world around them descending into the inky blackness of night. The twilight was long gone, replaced by a void of darkness that seemed to swallow the earth whole. Only the faintest glimmer of distant stars dotted the sky like forgotten memories, barely visible against the endless expanse.

It felt as if the world held its breath.

The air was sharp, biting at their skin with a coolness that carried the scent of damp earth and pine. Not a single sound pierced the quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves stirred by a faint breeze. Everything felt unnaturally still, as if the night itself was waiting for something to happen.

Reyes, crouched beside Yozora, tapped into their Toro link—an ability they’d synced before the mission, allowing them to communicate over long distances without needing microphones or comms.

“Yozora, do you read me?” Reyes' voice echoed in Yozora’s mind, clear and precise.

“Yes, Mr. Reyes, I hear you,” Yozora responded, his mind calm and focused.

“Good. Here’s the plan. The building has eight stories. You’ll take the first four floors, and I’ll handle the upper four. Gather intel on their plans and avoid being detected. Stay concealed using Kakusu at all times. And if you find a Portal Gate, report it immediately. Do not engage with it unless absolutely necessary.” Reyes’ voice was stern, carrying the weight of the Director’s direct orders.

Yozora’s thoughts churned with suspicion. There has to be more to this mission. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was at play. Something no one was telling him. But he kept those thoughts to himself. I won’t be fooled again.

“Roger,” Yozora finally replied. “Let’s push forward.”

Without another word, their bodies moved in perfect synchronization, slipping through the night like shadows. They were ghosts, invisible to the world around them, their steps so silent that even the faintest flickers of moonlight struggled to catch them. Every movement was calculated, every breath controlled.

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As Yozora approached the building, a looming, decrepit structure that stood like a monolith against the sky, he felt the weight of his mission settle on his shoulders. This wasn’t just about gathering information—it was about understanding what The Palm of the Gods was planning, and why they were causing these Portal Gates to appear all over the city.

Reyes had already disappeared into the shadows, heading for the upper floors as planned. Yozora, sticking to his own path, slid silently into the building through a side entrance. The interior was dark, the air inside thick with dust and neglect. He moved quickly, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.

Floor by floor, Yozora crept through the silent halls, his senses heightened. The building was eerily quiet, too quiet. There were no signs of life, no guards, no civilians, just the faint hum of forgotten machines and the occasional flicker of dim, failing lights. The walls felt like they were closing in, the air becoming heavier with every step he took.

By the time Yozora reached the third floor, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. The tension in the air had changed, a subtle shift that prickled at the edges of his senses. And then he felt it—a pull, a low hum vibrating through his Toro.

“A gate,” Yozora whispered to himself.

He continued forward cautiously, following the faint energy that beckoned him deeper into the building. His heart raced as he reached the farthest room on the floor, the source of the disturbance.

There, pulsing faintly in the center of the room, stood a Portal Gate—a swirling vortex of dark energy, rippling like water caught in a storm. Its edges crackled with unstable energy, and the air around it felt thick, as if reality itself was being warped.

“Reyes, I found a gate,” Yozora said through the Toro link, his voice steady. “I’m standing right in front of it.”

“Good, don’t get too close. Just gather any intel you can and—”

Yozora’s breath caught in his throat as a voice, familiar and haunting, echoed through the room, cutting off Reyes’ instructions.

“Yozora... are you going to ignore me again?”

It was Circe. That unmistakable voice, dripping with malice and amusement, clawed at his mind like a distant nightmare he had long tried to forget. The tone was soft, mocking, as if she were just behind him, whispering into his ear.

“I’m waiting... step through... or are you afraid of what you’ll find?”

The Portal Gate pulsed, as if in response to her voice, its swirling mass beckoning him closer. Yozora’s mind raced. His orders were clear—destroy the gate, avoid direct engagement if possible. But Circe’s voice pulled at him, taunted him, reminding him of his failures, of Mara, of everything he couldn’t fix.

He took a step forward, his hand tightening on the hilt of his katana. No, he thought, shaking his head. This is reckless. I need to destroy it...

But the pull was too strong.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” Circe’s voice whispered again, almost a laugh this time. “Come and find out the truth, Yozora. You’ve been living in the dark for too long.”

Yozora’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind battling the urge to step away, to follow Reyes’ orders. But deep inside, a voice—the same voice that had pushed him through countless battles—urged him forward. He knew he couldn’t walk away. Not this time.

Without another word, Yozora stepped through the gate, the swirling vortex enveloping him in a flash of cold, dark energy. The world twisted, the air itself bending around him as he vanished from sight.

And as he disappeared into the portal, Circe’s laughter echoed one last time, filling the empty room with a promise of things to come.