Chapter 3

In the Midnight Darkness

Silence engulfed the building as if embracing its walls with a cold tenderness. Everything seemed to be in a state of waiting—even the air itself. In one of the rooms, Brylo lay on the luxurious bed, his steady breaths rising and falling like the monotonous ticking of a clock. Beside him, little Itasha was lost in her childish dreams, clutching her pillow as if it held a fragment of her safe world.

Sbyam, however, remained awake, sitting by a large window open to the night sky. He wore loose black sleepwear, his disheveled white hair adding a strange sense of detachment to his appearance. His eyes were fixed on the moon, a celestial mirror reflecting his inner anguish. Its silver light streamed through the window, illuminating his serene face as his head rested on his hand, lost in a sea of thoughts.

Memories struck him mercilessly, slipping into his mind like invisible daggers, tearing apart the calm he had tried to build. Memories of a past deeper than wounds, darker than the night itself.

---

Flashback: (12 Years Ago)

Amid a dense forest, where the intertwined trees stretched their branches as if trying to block out the sky, stood a lone wooden house surrounded by an aura of warmth defying the cold night. Inside, the place was simple yet brimming with life. In the corner of the room, a six-year-old Sbyam stood, his innocent eyes filled with questions as he gazed at his mother, Estoria.

Estoria knelt before him, her gentle hands resting on his small shoulders. Her kind gaze blended maternal love with an indescribable worry. A hesitant smile formed on her lips as she tried to hide her sorrow behind heavy words:

"Sbyam... You possess something no one else does. Something special... Something that could change the world."

The child stared at her face, attempting to grasp the hidden meaning behind her words. Yet, all he could see were her eyes, heavy with shadows of pain.

She continued, her voice trembling despite her efforts to steady it:

"The power you hold, my boy, is not just a gift. It is a responsibility—a heavy responsibility."

The child's voice broke the solemn moment with innocence:

"What do you mean?"

His mother took a deep breath, as if trying to organize her thoughts amidst a storm of emotions. She looked directly into his eyes and spoke with a voice filled with pleading:

"You’ll understand later, but you must always trust yourself. Do not fear the path... no matter how dark it may be."

She paused momentarily, then added, as if placing a burden on his small shoulders:

"Your father... He is waiting for you. You must free him."

Those words hit him like a thunderbolt. He couldn’t fully comprehend their meaning, but he felt their weight piercing his soul. While his mother remained kneeling before him, her tears fell one after the other onto the wooden floor, each drop carrying a muted pain.

---

Return to the Present...

Sbyam snapped back to reality, as if the cold night air had pulled him from the abyss of memories to an ever-heavier reality. He glanced at the sky once more, where the moon still shone brightly, surrounded by faint stars. Taking a deep breath, he whispered to himself in a barely audible voice:

"Am I really as strong as she said? And if I am... why can’t I use the healing technique?"

He slowly turned his gaze toward the bed, where Itasha was soundly asleep. Her peaceful, childlike face reflected a world untouched by fear or pain. He watched her for a moment before closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the edge of the window. His thoughts spiraled in a closed loop:

"All I have is my clan’s legacy... just the Kurmo. Is that enough? Is it enough to protect her?"

The silence swallowed his words as if reassuring him, but within, his mind was in turmoil—a battle unresolved between a haunting past and a present burdened with responsibilities far beyond his years.

—

Tuesday’s Sunrise

The sun’s rays seeped through the windows of the city as if composing a serene symphony, filling the streets with new life. By the shore, gentle waves broke softly, whispering the sea’s secrets to the sand. On the horizon, the blue sky reflected on the clear waters, resembling a meticulously painted masterpiece.

Amid this tranquil scene, Sbyam was in the water, holding Itasha in his arms as if she were a precious fragment of his world—a world he had sworn to protect. The little girl’s laughter echoed, musical and light, as droplets of water flew around them with every movement.

Itasha cried out with innocent enthusiasm, her voice like the fluttering wings of a free bird:

"I want to play the role!"

Sbyam smiled, raising an eyebrow playfully as he asked:

"And what role is that?"

She replied eagerly, waving her hands in the air as if swimming:

"I want to learn how to swim! I want to be like you!"

Sbyam burst into laughter, prompting a childish pout on her face. She struck his chest with her tiny fist, shouting defiantly:

"You're laughing at me! I hate you!"

He responded with a calm smile, as though her words carried no weight:

"Alright, you cheeky little one… Do you really want to learn how to swim?"

Her pout disappeared, and her eyes filled with an uncontainable excitement. She answered with fervor:

"Yes! Teach me now!"

Sbyam smiled warmly and said as he gently placed her on the surface of the water:

"Then let’s begin. Trust me."

He began teaching her with care, holding her small hands and guiding her movements steadily in the water. The surrounding waves watched silently, as if blessing these innocent moments.

On the shore, Brylo stood in traditional sorcerer’s attire, his eyes quietly following the scene. His calm features softened gradually, a faint smile forming as he whispered to himself:

"Despite everything… you still have a heart that remains unchanged, my friend."

---

The Next Night

The city lights bathed everything in a warm glow, resembling a gentle embrace. At the amusement park, vibrant colors danced in the air, and the sounds of music blended with children’s laughter and their cheerful shouts.

Sbyam and Itasha sat on a wooden bench, devouring sweets with glee. Beside them, Brylo sat, looking utterly bored with Sbyam’s childish antics.

Sbyam’s eyes suddenly locked onto the roller coaster. His heart raced with childlike excitement as he pointed at it like he’d discovered a hidden treasure. Noticing his gaze, Itasha grinned with equal enthusiasm. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand, and they ran together toward the ride, leaving Brylo behind, watching them with a mix of exasperation and admiration.

The roller coaster roared to life, rushing forward as the cold wind swept through Itasha’s hair. Her screams of joy intertwined with Sbyam’s loud laughter, as if, for those fleeting moments, they had cast aside the burdens of the world.

From the ground, Brylo observed the scene. His usually stern expression softened, giving way to a warm smile. He whispered to himself, as if speaking to a distant memory:

"This is how the world should be… simple and joyful."

---

The Walk Home

After their fun-filled day, the three walked down the road surrounded by the city’s dim lights. Itasha walked between them, holding Brylo’s hand with one hand and clutching a piece of candy with the other. Sbyam walked beside them, smiling as though this day had washed away all his worries.

He spoke with evident happiness, gazing ahead at the road:

"That was an amazing day!"

Itasha nodded eagerly, exclaiming:

"Yes! I want every day to be like this!"

Brylo looked down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness, and asked softly:

"Are you happy now?"

With a resolute voice that defied her small stature, she answered:

"Yes! I’m very happy!"

The group fell silent for a moment, as if the night itself wished to honor that small, precious moment. Suddenly, Itasha broke the silence, her voice quiet and shy:

"My family..."

Sbyam froze mid-step, turning his head toward her in surprise. He whispered to himself, as if trying to process the word:

"My family?"

She hesitated briefly before continuing in a low voice:

"Since my mother’s death and my father’s departure… I haven’t had a time like this."

Her words struck like an unexpected blow. Sbyam stared at her, his face betraying his shock. Brylo, however, leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, speaking with deep warmth:

"Don’t think about that anymore. We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere."

Her eyes widened in childish surprise before a small smile crept onto her face. She declared with determination:

"Then I’ll live to stay with you both forever!"

Sbyam chuckled mockingly:

"You’re such a spoiled little kid!"

Itasha puffed her cheeks in mock anger, shouting:

"What do you mean, you arrogant jerk?!"

Brylo chuckled softly, looking at the two of them as though they were his real family. The three of them continued walking through the quiet streets, under the city lights illuminating their path. The night enveloped them in its silent care, as if the entire world had decided to grant them a brief moment of peace.

—

The Next Morning

The days passed, each moment adding another thread to the tapestry of their small, growing family, where every detail became an inseparable part of their lives.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

On a calm morning, the trio arrived at a large aquarium surrounded by transparent glass walls. The atmosphere was steeped in serene quietness, with sunlight dancing on the surface of the blue water, casting shimmering patterns that harmonized beautifully.

Itasha wandered around the aquarium with small, curious steps, her wide eyes following the movements of fish swimming alongside dolphins. It was as if she longed to chase after them, her boundless curiosity drawing her deeper into this aquatic world.

As she marveled at the fish with eyes glowing with wonder, Sbyam and Brylo stood in the corner, silently observing her. They exchanged a brief glance, an unspoken connection passing between them, as if they shared the same feeling, the same memories, the same hopes.

Brylo kept his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on Itasha. Sbyam, leaning casually against the wall, watched her every movement with a quiet smile. There was something in that smile—an emotion he couldn’t articulate, perhaps a faint echo of loss, a reminder of times gone by. Yet these fleeting moments with Itasha seemed to breathe life back into him.

---

On another day, the three sat in a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The place radiated warmth, filled with the sounds of cheerful conversations and laughter. Sbyam and Brylo had shed their usual sorcerer attire for simple, casual clothing.

A variety of dishes were spread before them, and Itasha ate with gusto, her eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm of a child, savoring each bite as if discovering something new in every morsel.

But Sbyam was different. He looked tired, his eyes shadowed by sleepless nights, carrying the weight of burdens he kept to himself.

Brylo noticed immediately and broke the silence with a low voice:

"You haven’t been sleeping, have you?"

Itasha quickly paused her eating, lifting her head to look at Sbyam with concern:

"You haven’t? Why?"

Sbyam tried to mask his exhaustion with a small smile, his voice soft yet reassuring:

"Don’t worry. It’s just the usual work."

But Itasha wasn’t easily fooled. She stared at him for a moment, her young face questioning, though she eventually resumed eating in silence, her thoughts swirling with unspoken worries. Meanwhile, Brylo continued to watch Sbyam silently, his gaze lingering on every subtle expression, almost as if he could read his mind.

Brylo’s thoughts churned quietly. His eyes seemed to converse with his inner voice, whispering to himself:

"You’re doing all this to protect her…"

While Brylo pondered, Sbyam slowly reached for the bottle of hot sauce. He opened it casually, pouring small amounts into Itasha’s dish without her noticing.

Suddenly, she looked up and caught him mid-act, watching the fiery sauce spill onto her plate. For a moment, she froze, her expression shifting quickly from shock to fury.

"You scoundrel!" she shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Why do you always love annoying me?!"

Sbyam smiled gently, despite the exhaustion etched into his face, his calm gaze meeting hers. Her reaction seemed to be all he needed to momentarily forget his fatigue.

Brylo observed the scene silently, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched their simple, daily squabbles. It was a small yet precious fragment of life, a glimpse of the simplicity he once thought he’d lost.

—

Sunday (The Day of Delivery)

The fateful moment arrived. The trio ascended the mountain, where it seemed that nature itself braced to witness a monumental event. Verdant greenery cloaked the scene; thick trees intertwined, swaying in a serene rhythm with the wind that hummed a gentle tune. Beneath their shadows lay something peculiar—an anomaly that did not belong. Amidst this magnificent landscape stood a mysterious door embedded in the ground—an intruder in harmony, guarding secrets of ancient worlds beyond.

Sbyam carried Itasha on his back, his slow, deliberate steps resonating with the heavy silence around them. Every stride bore both hesitation and resolve, and the weight of his unspoken burdens seemed heavier than his physical strength could bear. His gaze remained fixed on the enigmatic door, his features betraying an intense inner struggle. Beside him, Brylo walked with a solemn air, his eyes darting between the door and the surroundings, as though their journey here marked not merely an end but the beginning of something far greater.

When Sbyam gently set Itasha down, an oppressive silence enveloped the area, as if even nature held its breath to watch what would unfold. This was no ordinary quiet—it was a farewell, a defining moment in the fabric of time.

Brylo broke the silence, his voice a blend of excitement and tension:

"We’ve finally made it!"

But Itasha’s childlike voice, tinged with sorrow, overshadowed his enthusiasm. Her words were fragile, as if drawn from the depths of a weary heart:

"Am I... going to die here?"

A fleeting moment passed, heavy as eternity, before time itself seemed to halt. Brylo and Sbyam’s gazes converged on Itasha’s small face, which bore the weight of burdens far beyond her years. Her eyes shimmered with invisible tears as she tried to grasp what lay ahead. Yet, she slowly raised her head, her frightened eyes locked on the majestic door before her, as if it held her final hope.

She whispered, her voice carrying a blend of faith, surrender, and inevitable doom:

"But... I think everyone has a role to play. This is mine."

Brylo attempted a smile, but it was laced with sadness, barely masking his emotions. Sbyam, however, remained silent, his eyes brimming with a profound love and grief words could not convey.

Kneeling to her level, Sbyam gently reached out and stroked her hair, his voice calm yet laden with unspoken meaning:

"Itasha... roles aren’t forced upon us. We choose how to play them."

The young girl’s wide eyes searched his face, striving to comprehend his words. Slowly, a faint smile broke through her sorrow—a fragile glimmer of hope within the depths of despair.

Stepping forward, Brylo placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his voice warm:

"You won’t be alone. We’re here with you."

For a moment, the wind calmed, as if nature paused out of respect for this solemn exchange. They stood together, united against the unknown, each harboring the shared understanding that what lay ahead would be unlike anything they had faced before.

But suddenly, as if nature herself rejected this tranquility, a fierce wind erupted around them, a harbinger of an unforeseen transformation. Trees swayed violently, and leaves spiraled through the air like dire warnings of imminent catastrophe.

Brylo shouted, his heart racing as he scanned the sky:

"What’s happening?!"

Sbyam stood firm, his eyes sharp as they shifted between the heavens and the earth, seeking the source of this abrupt change. Without warning, a metallic object sliced through the air with blistering speed, embedding itself in his chest.

A sword.

His eyes dropped to his chest, where he heard the sickening tear of flesh. The blade had pierced him from behind and emerged from the front, blood pouring freely. Yet what stunned him most was the shock that rippled across his face. He struggled for breath, the hope draining from his body.

"Sbyam!" Brylo cried, rushing toward him, his hair whipping in the tempestuous wind.

Slowly, Sbyam turned his head to face his attacker. There, standing with a sardonic smile and holding the weapon, was Smart. His expression betrayed nothing but cruel satisfaction, as though this was merely a step in a grander scheme.

Sbyam rasped, his voice heavy with pain:

"Who are you? Have we met before?"

Smart chuckled coldly, his confidence unshaken:

"Don’t bother. I don’t waste my time remembering the faces of men."

Sbyam’s weary gaze bore into him, exhaustion and understanding mingling on his face. With a strained voice, he murmured:

"So, this is how it ends…"

Extending his hand toward Smart, a sudden surge of energy erupted around him, flinging Smart into the air like a ragdoll. The blast was swift and ferocious, yet Smart’s smirk remained, as though the attack was merely a precursor to something far worse.

The ground before them split open, revealing a dark, pulsating purple rift. Smart’s eyes, filled with a mix of mockery and indifference, watched as a colossal white dragon emerged from the chasm. Its shimmering scales reflected the sunlight, and its eyes blazed with wrath.

In a flash, the dragon devoured Smart, but its rapid ascent caused it to collide with a massive tree, shattering it and scattering debris in every direction.

The battle intensified, each moment surpassing the terror of the last, and every second heralding a fate more fearsome than death itself.

From the opposite side, Itasha was staring at the massive dragon lying on the ground—a colossal corpse barely breathing its last. Next to her stood Brylo, anxiety burning in his heart. He couldn’t take his eyes off the bloody scene before him and murmured to himself hesitantly:

"I summoned the Shinigami... but something feels off; I don’t sense it’s dead!"

Before Brylo could analyze the situation further, Sbyam’s faint and bloodied voice broke through the tension:

“Brylo!”

His gaze darted to Sbyam, who was barely standing, his body trembling from pain, but his eyes full of determination. In a low yet firm tone, Sbyam spoke:

“Take the child. Go now! I’ll handle this bastard.”

Brylo froze, torn between his instincts and his loyalty. Hesitantly, he stammered:

“But...”

Sbyam cut him off with a weak smile, though it was laced with unwavering resolve:

“Please, don’t forget why we’re here in the first place. Do it for her.”

Brylo locked eyes with him, the weight of fear and conflict suffocating him. He understood the meaning behind Sbyam’s words—this was for Itasha, for something far greater than their individual lives. After a few agonizing seconds, he grabbed the stunned Itasha by the hand and began running toward the mysterious door. Behind them, the wind howled violently through the trees, as though nature itself resisted their journey.

---

As they approached the door, a grotesque scene unfolded. The massive dragon’s body began to convulse violently before suddenly tearing apart. Blood erupted in all directions, and the shredded remains rained down like a storm of destruction, annihilating everything in their path.

From the wreckage, Smart emerged unscathed, his smirk cold and triumphant. His blood-stained sword gleamed ominously in his hand, as though it bore the weight of his victories. His gaze locked on Sbyam, savoring the imminent climax.

Smart’s voice, dripping with mockery, cut through the chaos:

“Oi, you fool. Looks like your end is near.”

Despite his exhaustion, Sbyam replied in a steady voice, tinged with defiance:

“Don’t be so sure; this isn’t over yet.”

Smart strode toward him confidently, each step deliberate, exuding an air of psychological dominance. He swung his sword casually as he taunted:

“You’re exhausted now, aren’t you? I planned everything carefully. I knew you wouldn’t back down as long as the girl was in danger, so I turned everything around you into a trap to drain your energy and your Kurmo technique.”

Sbyam, though clearly weakened, smiled faintly—a smile radiating defiance:

“No matter your plans, they won’t change the outcome.”

Smart chuckled lightly before responding:

“Alright then, let’s see.”

---

Before Sbyam could react, Smart vanished in an instant, leaving only a rush of air in his wake. Sbyam strained to pinpoint his opponent’s location but failed. Suddenly, Smart reappeared behind him, landing a devastating punch to his back.

The force of the blow created a shockwave, hurling Sbyam into the trunk of a massive tree. A bloodied cough escaped him, the pain etched deeply into his face.

Sbyam’s thoughts raced as he whispered in tension:

“What is this technique? It’s weakening my ability to use Kurmo... He’s completely changing the rules of the game!”

As he struggled to rise, Smart appeared again, poised to deliver another strike. But just as the blow was about to land, Sbyam vanished, leaving Smart to strike empty air.

Scanning the area, Smart’s expression darkened when he noticed an unnatural shift in the atmosphere. Dense black shadows began enveloping the surroundings, the ominous prelude to something dreadful.

---

From the sky, a massive black sphere emerged, crackling with sparks of energy. It descended rapidly, threatening to obliterate everything in its path.

Smart smirked mockingly, vanishing at the last second as the sphere collided with the ground. The resulting explosion was cataclysmic, transforming the mountain’s peak into a fiery storm. Trees disintegrated, debris rained down like fragments of shattered beings, and the earth itself trembled under the force.

Hovering in the air, Sbyam remained composed, his expression a mixture of determination and apprehension. He surveyed the devastation wrought by the sphere, aware that what lay ahead would surpass anything he had faced before.

In his mind, Sbyam wrestled with thoughts like turbulent currents:

"I don’t know where he is… This is a major risk. There’s no room for hesitation—I must eliminate all obstacles."

Descending quietly to the ground, Sbyam closed his eyes, his movements slow and deliberate, as if the moment itself was preparing to unleash his hidden power. Taking a deep breath, he whispered softly—barely audible—but the winds around him seemed to respond, carrying his words as if they held the key to an ancient force:

“Kurmo Core Technique.”

His hands came together gradually, the motion precise, and with each passing moment, a glowing black sphere began to form between them. Sparks of chaotic energy danced violently around its surface, growing in intensity. The winds surrounding him intensified, howling with an almost sentient awareness of the devastation to come.

Sbyam stood firm, his body enduring the currents tearing at his clothes and skin, as though his energy was shredding the atmosphere itself. The sphere pulsated with life, almost sentient in its fury, and the ground beneath him began to crack under the pressure. Rocks shattered into dust, soil fragmented, and trees were uprooted, snapping like brittle twigs. The once-vibrant grass turned black, pulled from the earth as though it had succumbed to an unstoppable force.

The black sphere’s erratic movements carved trails of destruction wherever it hovered, leaving the land barren and lifeless. Shadows of ash and death marked its path, a testament to the overwhelming force Sbyam wielded.

Despite the chaos, Sbyam remained unyielding. With a commanding gesture, he raised his hands, drawing the sphere closer. The violent energy spiraled around him, threatening to consume everything in its vicinity. Finally, with a final push of his will, he absorbed the sphere entirely into his hands, its terrifying presence vanishing without a trace.

The aftermath was devastating. Rocks lay scattered, the forest obliterated, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning. Sbyam stood amidst the ruins, his chest heaving as he surveyed the desolation. He murmured to himself:

"You have nowhere to hide now..."

But before he could relax, a strange sensation prickled the back of his neck. He spun around swiftly, only to find Smart standing directly behind him.

Smart’s sword swirled in his hand like a predator celebrating its hunt. His face was painted with a sinister grin, his dark eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Faster than I expected," Sbyam thought, his instincts screaming at him to act. He began to summon the “Immortal Mountain” technique, hoping to counter his opponent, but Smart was faster.

In a blink, the blade darted forward, piercing through Sbyam’s chest effortlessly.

Sbyam’s eyes widened as he looked down, the blade glowing fiercely as it protruded from his chest. Pain erupted like a torrent through his body, overwhelming his senses. It was not just a stab—it was a rupture, a shattering of everything holding him together.

But Smart wasn’t satisfied with a single blow. With a twisted grin, he began to rotate the blade within Sbyam’s chest, twisting and thrusting it mercilessly. Each strike sent blood spraying in all directions, painting the scene in crimson.

The sound of tearing flesh echoed through the desolate landscape, a macabre symphony of agony and destruction. Hot droplets of blood fell to the scorched ground, mingling with the ash and smoke to create a dark, hellish tableau.

Sbyam’s body convulsed with every stab, his strength diminishing with each attack. The once-mighty warrior was reduced to a trembling figure, barely able to remain standing.

Finally, Smart withdrew the blade with a brutal yank, leaving behind a gaping wound that bled profusely. His triumphant smile widened, as though savoring the sight of his fallen adversary.

But he wasn’t done. Delivering a powerful kick, Smart sent Sbyam hurtling through the air like a broken doll. His body collided with the ground, rolling to a halt in a lifeless heap, surrounded by a crimson pool of his own blood.

Smart stood over him, his voice a low, mocking murmur:

"It’s over now..."

The flames from the earlier destruction crept closer, devouring everything in their path. The mountain’s peak was no longer a battlefield—it was a vision of hell itself, with ash, fire, and despair consuming the land.

—

In the depths of the earth, the elevator continued its descent quietly, piercing through the darkness that seemed endless. Brylo stood still beside the young girl Itasha, who was gazing at the metallic floor beneath her feet, her small fingers nervously touching her other hand.

She spoke with a shaky voice, tinged with concern: "Where are we going?"

Brylo looked at her with a warm smile, carrying an artificial reassurance: "To the Mana organization, to end this."

Itasha shifted her gaze to his face, as though searching for the truth behind his words. Then, in a soft voice, she asked: "Do you think he's okay? I mean... Sbyam?"

Brylo tried to maintain his calm, smiling again, but this time his smile was warmer, as if it carried an ambiguous promise: "Don't worry. Sbyam is stronger than you think. He'll definitely return."

Itasha fell silent but raised her gaze again, studying his features, which carried a shadow of concern that the smile couldn't completely hide.

The elevator suddenly stopped with a faint sound, and the door began to open slowly, revealing a long corridor extending into the darkness. Brylo took a deep breath and extended his hand towards Itasha. She hesitated for a moment but eventually took his hand shyly.

The place was vast and eerily silent, with only the sound of their hesitant footsteps. With each step, the silence grew more intense, as though the darkness itself was watching them.

The two arrived at an enclosed space at the end of the corridor. In the center was a metal chair surrounded by devices that pulsed with a faint light, like a heart beating in the dark. Itasha stopped and stared at the chair in astonishment, then asked in a trembling voice: "What is this?"

Brylo approached her, bending slightly to her level, and said quietly: "This is where the Unlimited Technique will be transferred. But..." He paused for a moment, then added in a deeper voice: "Only if you want it."

Itasha's eyes widened, and she asked in a low voice filled with confusion: "What do you mean?"

Brylo took a step back, then pointed to the chair and said: "Itasha, before we came here, I spoke with Sbyam. We decided that you will choose. If you want to live the rest of your life without transferring the technique, Sbyam and I will bear the consequences... whatever they may be."

Itasha froze in place, her breaths quickening. Tears began to gather in her eyes, and she asked in a choked voice: "But... why?"

Brylo stepped closer, placing his hand on her shoulder, and said gently: "Because we are your family now. The decision is yours alone."

Tears burst from Itasha's eyes, and she began to speak with a trembling voice: "I've always wanted to live... I always wished to be part of a family! Since I lost my father and mother... I’ve been searching for a place where I could feel safe."

Brylo stared at her, his face filled with love and compassion. Then he smiled softly and said: "You won't be alone anymore. We’re here for you, always."

Before she could respond, and while Brylo's words tried to comfort her, the sound of a gunshot shattered the air. The sound was enough to freeze time for a moment.

The bullet pierced the air, striking Itasha's head directly. Blood sprayed into the air like a red fountain, and her small body fell to the ground motionless, like a broken doll.

Brylo froze in place, staring at the girl's body on the ground, shock overwhelming his features. He slowly approached her, then knelt beside her, whispering with a trembling voice: "Itasha?... "

From the darkness, Smart emerged, clapping slowly, a mocking smile on his face. He held a gun in his hand, and his sarcastic voice broke the silence: "How touching... but unfortunately, her role is over."

Brylo stood up quickly, his eyes burning with anger, and demanded in a sharp voice: "Why?! Why did you kill her?!"

Smart chuckled lightly, then said coldly: "Oh, don’t take it personally. I was just doing what needed to be done."

He then added with sarcasm: "By the way... I took care of Sbyam too. You have no one left to rely on."

Brylo’s eyes burned like embers, his fist clenching tightly. His face changed, filled with both rage and sorrow. He said in a voice full of hatred: "So that's it?... You will pay the price now!"

As the scene sank into darkness, Brylo's scream echoed through the space: "I’ll kill you!"

End of Chapter.