Chapter 7

A Beast Beyond Fabled

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She huffed but let it go, her annoyance melting away.

"Anyway, you’re not alone." – She said with a faint grin. – “You’ve got me, even if this is just a temporary alliance."

"Well." – I said after a moment, a small smile forming. – “I guess it’s nice to have at least one friend in this place."

"Friend?" – She repeated with a scoff, though her lips twitched into a smirk. – “I prefer to think of it as being the smarter, cooler girl who’s decided to tolerate your existence."

I raised an eyebrow. – “Wow. That almost sounded like a compliment."

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further, her usual confidence masking what I could tell was something deeper, something weighing on her. It wasn’t normal for her to meet me here at the tracks before class. She definitely had something on her mind — something about our mission.

“So, how’s the plan for stealing the archives from the church?” – I asked, lowering my voice. It had been a week since Nanfaz returned to town, and I was itching for an update. Somehow, I missed the time we spent together at my house. It felt odd to admit, but there was something comforting about her presence — even if she was constantly a thorn in my side. Maybe once her social life stabilized, she’d visit again.

Nanfaz brushed a stray strand of black hair from her face, her expression thoughtful. – “Hmm. It was hard at first, explaining how I vanished for so long. I told people at school I was just lazing around at home, and I told my family I was at a friend’s house.”

“Making you lie to your parents — wow, I really am a horrible influence.” – I smirked.

She chuckled softly, a rare sound that lightened the tension between us. – “Yeah, you’re the worst. But I guess it worked, so I’ll let it slide this time.”

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. “So, did they buy it?”

“More or less,” she replied, her expression sobering. – “My mom didn’t believe me at first, but she thought she’d lost me that time, so she eventually came to terms with it. However, the church? That’s a different story. They’re suspicious, and it’ll take a long time before I get close enough to the archives.”

I frowned, sensing her frustration. “Then I guess that part of the plan is on hold for now. Oh, I forgot to ask — why were you waiting for me here?”

Nanfaz’s eyes lit up, as if she'd been waiting for this moment all day. She straightened, her excitement barely contained. – “I didn’t spend all my time just lazing around like you think. I’ve been researching everything I could inside the town. And I’ve made a discovery!”

“Oh?” – I leaned in, intrigued. – “Now you’ve got my attention. I hope it’s as amazing as you’re making it sound.”

She puffed her cheeks in mock frustration. – “Don’t get your hopes up too high, Elewp. I’m trying my hardest here, you know.”

“Alright, alright.” – I laughed, raising my hands in surrender. – “Tell me what’s been tugging at your mind so much.”

Nanfaz inhaled deeply, her eyes gleaming with determination. – “Whenever I spent time in the school courtyard, something kept bugging me. At first, it felt insignificant, but then it wouldn’t let go.”

I grinned, teasing. – “My beautiful face? Oh, I know — solar panels?”

Her playful glare was sharp enough to cut steel.

“Okay, okay.” – I muttered. – “I’ll shut up.”

She exhaled, satisfied, and pressed on. – “Tell me, Elewp, how many gods are worshipped in this town?”

I furrowed my brow. – “One. Just one — Procyon.”

“And how many wolf statues are there?”

I hesitated. – “Two… no, wait. Including the one at the hill shrine, three.”

“Exactly.” – She said, her tone sharpening. – “Why build multiple statues of wolves if there’s only one god?”

I shrugged. – “People like making statues of the beings they worship?”

Nanfaz shook her head firmly. – “No. Think about it. The wolf statues aren’t of Procyon — they’re depictions of the Black Wolves.”

I blinked, taken aback. – “That wouldn’t make any sense. Why would the town build statues of creatures they fear?”

She crossed her arms, her expression resolute. – “Maybe they didn’t always fear them. What if these statues are older than the Black Forest itself? What if they’re remnants of a time when the wolves weren’t monsters, but something else? Maybe even protectors?”

“That’s… a stretch.” – I said, though her theory stirred something uneasy inside me. – “You really believe the town would worship Black Wolves?”

Nanfaz’s eyes burned with intensity. – “What if they weren’t always seen as Black Wolves? What if they were revered as guardians, and over time, their image became twisted into something monstrous?”

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. – “You’re really the girl who nearly died after being attacked by one of them?”

She shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. – “I’m not saying they’re suddenly the good guys. I’m saying the Church of Procyon might’ve been worshipping demons all this time, not a god.”

The weight of her words settled over us, the gravity of the idea sinking in. I opened my mouth to argue, but something stopped me. Could she be right? Could Procyon’s revered god be the same as the demons they fear?

Nanfaz nodded, her expression grim. – “And if the church has been covering this up, we need to find out why. The Black Wolves didn’t just appear out of nowhere. There’s a history here, one they don’t want us to uncover.”

I crossed my arms, thinking it over. "And we need to get to the church archives to dig any deeper—"

"I don’t think that’s necessary." – She interrupted, her voice firm and confident. – “Over the past month, I’ve been visiting the three statues around town, and I’ve noticed two really important things that might lead us further."

I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her initiative. Nanfaz had come a long way from the nervous girl who once begged for my help and blindly followed my ill-fated idea of installing cameras in the forest. Now, she carried herself with a quiet confidence, her determination burning brighter than before. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction watching her grow into someone capable of standing on her own two feet.

"First." – She said, reaching into her bag. – “there’s something strange about the pedestals of the statues. There are inscriptions on them, but they’re written in an alphabet we don’t use. I’m sure with access to the archives, we could translate them. I’ve already transcribed the text from the church plaza and the hill shrine. But that’s not the only thing I’ve noticed."

She pulled out a carefully folded sheet of paper and held it open. It was an absurdly detailed map of Procyon, the three statues circled in bold red ink.

"What do you think when you look at this?" – She asked, her voice tinged with anticipation.

I leaned over the map, studying it closely. The placement of the statues wasn’t random — they’d been deliberately positioned in specific locations. – “Hmm… You’ve mapped the exact locations of each statue and noted the directions they face. That’s significant. And they’re all built on top of hills."

"Exactly." – She said, nodding enthusiastically. – “The school is on top of a hill, the church is on top of a hill, and the hill shrine obviously is too. It’s almost as if they’re watching over the town from above."

I frowned, considering the implications. – “Maybe they’re depicting the god." – I teased. – “If they’re positioned on elevated ground, they could be symbols of divine guardianship."

"But there’s more to it than that." – Nanfaz said, her voice growing more urgent. Giving me a pen. – “If you draw lines between them, they form a triangle."

"Three points always make a triangle." – I pointed out, but she shook her head.

"Not just any triangle." – She said, her tone electric with discovery. – “It’s a perfect triangle — precise angles, exact distances. These statues weren’t built at different times or for separate reasons. They were designed as a set."

I leaned closer, intrigued. – “And their orientation?"

“The directions they’re facing aren’t random, either. If you follow their lines of sight, all three converge on a single point."

I frowned, tracing the lines with my eyes. The convergence point wasn’t in Procyon; it lay just beyond the town's borders. – “But that means the meeting place is outside of town."

"Not entirely outside." – Nanfaz clarified, her tone dropping into a hush. She pointed at the edge of the map, her finger resting on an unmarked region shaded in dark green. – “That spot lies within the Black Forest."

I froze, my mind racing. The Black Forest was an unforgiving expanse of lifeless trees, suffused with an eerie stillness. If the statues’ alignment pointed toward something hidden within it, then we were one step closer to unraveling its mysteries.

"You're saying the statues were built to point to something hidden in the forest?" – I asked, my voice low.

Nanfaz nodded firmly. "Exactly. They’re markers, Shikimi. Guardians, maybe. Whatever lies out there in the forest, it’s something important — something connected to the Black Wolves, the church, and this entire town’s history."

For a moment, silence hung between us as we stared at the map. The implications of her discovery were staggering. The statues were more than just religious symbols; they were part of a larger, deliberate design — a puzzle left for someone to solve.

"And if we’re going to find out what they’re pointing to." – Nanfaz added, her voice steady but filled with determination. – “we’ll need to venture deep into the Black Forest. This is bigger than just us now, Shikimi. This could change everything."

I folded the map carefully, my fingers brushing over the precise lines and markings that Nanfaz had painstakingly drawn. My expression grew solemn as I closed it and tucked it back into her bag. Nanfaz watched my movements intently, her anticipation palpable, but as I slid the map away and handed her bag back to her, a flicker of disheartenment crossed her face.

"That’s it?" – She asked quietly, her voice carrying an edge of doubt. – “You’re putting it away? Are we… not going to do anything about it?"

I straightened, meeting her gaze. For a moment, I let the weight of the silence settle between us. Then, as she adjusted the bag on her shoulders and prepared to retreat into uncertainty, I took her hand, catching her completely by surprise.

"Then forget about school." – I said, my voice firm but charged with an energy that lit the air between us. – “We’re going there. Right now."

Her eyes widened in shock, and she blinked at me, as if trying to determine whether I was serious. – “What? Right now? Shikimi, are you—"

"Yes." – I interrupted, my tone leaving no room for argument. – “We’ve spent enough time sitting around, theorizing, and waiting. You’ve done the research, connected the dots, and brought us to this point. There’s no reason to delay. We’re going to find out what those statues are pointing to."

Nanfaz hesitated for a brief moment, the initial disbelief on her face softening into something else—a mix of determination and gratitude. – “You mean it?" – She asked, her voice quieter now.

"Of course I do." – I said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. – “You’ve been braver than anyone in this cursed town, Nanfaz. You’ve followed the clues no one else dared to see. You’ve earned this. And I’m not going to let you face it alone."

She looked down at our clasped hands for a moment, then nodded slowly. She said, her voice steadying. – “Let’s do it. Let’s find out what’s waiting for us in the Black Forest."

The Black Forest surrounds Procyon in a relentless embrace, its skeletal trees and ashen ground forming an ominous barrier between the town and the unknown. The tracks cut through the town from west to east like a scar, with my house nestled on the eastern edge. Our destination, however, was to the north — deep in the heart of the forest, where the statues’ lines converged.

Our earlier travels along this path had yielded little — just barren ground, shadowed trees, and an unyielding stillness that clung to the air like a second skin. We’d found no signs of the Black Wolves or any secrets hidden beneath the forest’s surface. It was as if the forest itself mocked us, daring us to believe in its legends.

But this time felt different.

Walking through the town was always a delicate balancing act for a witch like me. My reputation preceded me — whispers, wary glances, and outright hostility were the norm. But with my hyper-empathy guiding me and Nanfaz at my side, it was surprisingly easy to navigate unnoticed. My heightened senses allowed me to anticipate encounters, avoiding streets and corners where the townsfolk’s emotions radiated too strongly.

The few people we did pass paid us no mind. It was a small blessing, owed largely to my unremarkable appearance. With plain brown hair and ordinary features, I looked like just another student — or perhaps a traveler passing through. Only those who lived near the tracks, and closer to my isolated home, were likely to recognize me, and even then, most were too preoccupied with their routines to notice.

"That went better than expected." – Nanfaz whispered as we slipped down a quieter alley, her bag slung over her shoulder. – “Not a single glare or insult thrown your way. Are you sure you’re the most hated person in Procyon?"

"Let’s just say I got lucky today.” – I muttered, my eyes scanning the shadows ahead. – “Most of the town doesn’t care unless I give them a reason to. The ones who do are usually too stubborn to leave their porches."

"Well, lucky or not, let’s keep moving." – She said, picking up the pace. – “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover."

This wasn’t the first time I’d ventured into the forest, but something about today felt different — heavier. The air seemed thicker, the silence more oppressive. It was as if the forest itself knew we were coming.

"You feel that too, don’t you?" – Nanfaz asked, her voice low.

I nodded, my hyper-empathy buzzing with faint, unplaceable signals. The forest wasn’t alive in the conventional sense, but there was an energy to it — subtle, ancient, and faintly hostile. – “It’s like we’re being watched." – I said.

Nanfaz shivered but kept walking. – “Watched by what? The wolves?"

"Maybe." – I said, though I wasn’t convinced. The Black Wolves were part of the forest’s legend, but this sensation felt more… aware. As if the earth itself had eyes.

The trees grew denser as we walked, their blackened branches twisting like skeletal hands. The ground beneath us was soft with ash and decay, muffling the sound of our steps.

"Do you think this is it?" Nanfaz asked after a while, gesturing to a faint clearing up ahead.

I paused, focusing my senses. The air shifted, carrying a faint trace of something unfamiliar — metallic and cold, like rusted iron. "Let’s check it out."

We approached cautiously, each step bringing the clearing into sharper focus. My breath hitched as the scene unfolded before us. At the center of the clearing stood a structure that commanded reverence — a half-buried altar, ancient and imposing, its weathered stones. Symbols, unlike anything I’d ever encountered, twisted and curled across the stones in patterns that seemed alive. They glowed faintly, their pale light flickering in the shadowy gloom like the embers of a long-forgotten fire.

"This is incredible." – Nanfaz murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. She crouched beside the altar, tracing the carvings with trembling fingers. – “These symbols... They’re the same as the ones on the statues, but more complex. They almost look like they’re... moving."

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away. – “It’s as if the altar is alive. Or... aware." – The thought unsettled me, but it also stirred a sense of awe. Whatever this was, it was ancient — older than Procyon, older than any of its legends. And it held secrets that felt heavier than time itself.

But as stunning as the altar was, it wasn’t the only thing in the clearing.

Beyond it, carved into the mountain that loomed over us, was a door — a door so massive it defied comprehension. Its sheer size was staggering, as if it had been built for giants or creatures even larger. The top of the door nearly disappeared into the rocky face of the mountain, and its width could have easily accommodated a blue whale passing through with room to spare.

The door was made of an otherworldly material, neither stone nor metal but something in between. Its surface shimmered faintly, shifting between hues of deep gray and ethereal silver. Strange, jagged runes were etched across it, mirroring the glowing patterns on the altar. Unlike the weathered look of the altar, the door seemed pristine, untouched by time or decay.

Nanfaz stood, her gaze fixed on the monumental structure. – “What in the world is this?" she asked, awe and trepidation mingling in her voice.

"A doorway." – I said softly, though the word felt woefully inadequate. This wasn’t just a door; it was a portal, a boundary between worlds or dimensions. – “Whatever lies behind it... it’s something beyond anything we’ve imagined."

Nanfaz turned to me, her brow furrowed. – “It’s big enough for... something massive. Do you think this is tied to the Black Wolves? Or is it something even worse?"

I shook my head, uncertainty gnawing at me. – “I don’t know. But the statues, the altar—they were all pointing us here. Whatever it is, the people who built this wanted it hidden."

As we stepped closer, the air grew colder, a sharp contrast to the oppressive stillness of the forest. A low, almost imperceptible hum seemed to emanate from the door, vibrating in the very core of my being. It wasn’t just sound — it was a feeling, a presence that demanded recognition.

Nanfaz shivered, pulling her coat tighter around her. – “It feels like it’s... watching us." – She said, her voice trembling slightly.

I placed a hand on the altar, its glowing patterns pulsing faintly under my touch. The hum grew stronger, resonating through the stones and into my body. – “The altar and the door are connected." – I said, my voice steady despite the unease coursing through me. – “The altar is the key. If we can activate it, the door will open."

"Activate it how?" – Nanfaz asked, glancing between the altar and the massive door looming in front of us. Her gaze shifted to the glowing symbols carved into the altar’s surface, her brow furrowed in frustration. – “There’s no lever, no switch... just these symbols."

"Exactly." – I said, my fingers brushing over the carvings. The faint green light under my touch seemed to pulse with recognition, as though the altar itself was alive and aware of my presence. – “These symbols aren’t just decorations — they’re the key. They’re the answer we’re looking for. The way to activate it lies in deciphering these ancient letters."

Nanfaz tilted her head, skepticism mingling with curiosity. – “Then... the archives? We’d need them to translate this, right? They might have the key to understanding these symbols."

I shook my head, a faint smile playing on my lips. – “The archives would help, sure. But we don’t need them. Not now. Give me a pen and a notebook, and I’ll decode this myself."

Her eyes widened in surprise. – “You can do that? Since when are you fluent in ancient, glowing... whatever this is?"

"I’m not." – I admitted, shrugging. – “But I’ve studied enough languages and symbols in my spare time to recognize patterns. I just need to figure out how these letters connect. Symbols like these aren’t random — they follow a logic, a structure. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s unraveling puzzles."

Nanfaz rummaged through her bag, pulling out a battered notebook and a pen. She handed them to me with a faint grin. – “Alright, genius. Let’s see what you’ve got."

I knelt in front of the altar, carefully sketching the glowing symbols into the notebook. Each line, curve, and intersection was meticulously copied, my mind already piecing together potential connections. The glow seemed to shift subtly as I worked, almost as if the altar itself was watching my progress.

As I wrote, I began speaking aloud, more to myself than to Nanfaz. – “These symbols... they’re not a traditional alphabet. They’re more like runes — each one representing a concept or idea. But they’re grouped into patterns, like words in a sentence. If I can figure out the relationship between them..."

Nanfaz crouched beside me, her curiosity growing. – “So, it’s like a riddle? If we understand the sentence, we’ll know how to open the door?"

"Exactly." – I said, nodding. – “Think of it as a code. Each symbol is a piece of the puzzle, and the key is in the way they’re arranged."

The sun hung high above us, its golden rays filtering through the skeletal branches of the Black Forest. It watched our efforts with an indifferent gaze, a celestial witness to our work. The light’s warmth was a faint reassurance against the unease that crept into my thoughts. I didn’t know how long it would take to decipher the symbols, but something deep inside me whispered that I could solve it before the moon replaced the sun’s vigilance.

The minutes slipped by, stretching into what felt like hours. Time became meaningless in the quiet of the clearing, our world reduced to the glowing altar and the monumental door it guarded. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the usual creaks and rustles silenced as if in reverence—or perhaps anticipation. The symbols etched into the altar's surface slowly began to reveal their secrets, their connections and patterns emerging like fragments of a mosaic assembling themselves in my mind.

The process was maddeningly complex, yet oddly intuitive. Each symbol seemed to resonate with a faint energy, its meaning not spoken but felt. My fingers worked tirelessly, sketching and transcribing, my mind racing to keep up with the puzzle’s unfolding logic. The runes didn’t belong to any system I knew — no human language, no mathematical algorithm. Yet there was a rhythm to them, a purpose that transcended understanding.

As a skeptic, I couldn’t help but question the nature of what lay before me. Was this altar a remnant of some ancient technology, its symbols akin to programming code? Was it powered by a lost form of electricity, an energy source beyond our comprehension? Or was it something else entirely — something alien, divine, or even demonic? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Whatever force had created this place, it was far removed from the mundane reality I had always clung to.

Nanfaz sat nearby, her quiet presence a grounding force. She watched me work with a mix of curiosity and unease, her sharp eyes flickering between the glowing altar and the massive door. I could tell she shared my apprehension, though she hid it behind her usual determined demeanor.

"This feels wrong, doesn’t it?"- She said suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.

I paused, my pen hovering over the notebook. – “It feels... different." – I admitted. – “Like we’re meddling with something we were never meant to find."

"And yet here we are." – She said with a wry smile. – “What happens if you get it wrong? If this thing opens and brings... something bad?"

Her words echoed my own fears. The idea of unleashing something dark upon the world, something we couldn’t control, was a weight I hadn’t fully allowed myself to acknowledge. – “Haven’t you forgotten my original objective was to bring ruin upon Procyon?” – I joked.

Nanfaz nodded, though her unease lingered. – “Just... be careful."

I returned to the symbols, my focus sharpening. The altar’s energy seemed to pulse in time with my thoughts, as though responding to my determination. Piece by piece, the meaning of the runes crystallized, their relationships aligning into a coherent whole. They spoke of a threshold, a passage, and the cost of crossing it — a balance that had to be maintained.

Finally, I set down my pen, the completed phrase staring back at me from the page. It was simple yet profound, the kind of statement that felt as though it carried the weight of the universe itself. I read it silently, the words thrumming in my mind like a low, distant bell.

"This is it." – I said, turning to Nanfaz. – “I’ve got it."

Her eyes widened. – “You’re sure?"

I nodded. – “It’s an incantation. The symbols describe it as a key to unlock the door. But it’s more than just words — it’s intent. Whoever speaks it has to mean it, to understand the weight of what they’re doing."

She swallowed hard, glancing at the towering door. – “Do we even want to know what’s behind that thing?"

"I don’t know." – I admitted. – “But we’ve come too far to turn back now. Whatever’s behind it, it’s tied to the Black Wolves, to the forest, to this town. If we don’t open it, we’ll never have answers."

She hesitated, then nodded. – “Alright. Let’s do it."

I stood, the notebook clutched in my hand, and approached the altar. My fingers traced the glowing runes one last time, their energy humming beneath my touch. This was it —the moment that would either bring us closer to the truth or unleash something unspeakable into our world.

Taking a deep breath, I began to read the incantation aloud. The ancient words rolled off my tongue, their cadence unfamiliar yet instinctive. As I spoke, they resonated through the clearing, impossibly rich and layered, as though they carried harmonies woven from unseen voices. The air around us thickened, growing heavy and charged with an otherworldly power that prickled against my skin like static electricity.

“Beneath the scorching inferno.” – I began, my voice steady despite the weight of the moment.

“Beneath the dazzling paradise.” – I continued, the words hanging in the air like an ethereal echo.

“Beneath the dark abyss.” – I finished, each syllable vibrating in my chest.

We waited, the silence stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. But the altar remained unchanged. The glowing runes dimmed slightly, their light flickering, then fading altogether. The forest’s stillness pressed in around us, oppressive and unyielding.

Nothing happened.

The expectation that had been building in my chest collapsed like a house of cards. A wave of frustration and disappointment crashed over me, leaving me feeling hollow. I exchanged a glance with Nanfaz, her wide eyes mirroring my own confusion and disbelief.

“What happened?” – She asked, her voice sharp with anxiety. – “Why didn’t it work?"

I stepped back from the altar, raking a hand through my hair as I stared at the silent, unresponsive symbols. – “I don’t know." – I said, my voice heavy with doubt. – “I followed the translation perfectly. Every word was right. Maybe... maybe I missed a detail."

Nanfaz bit her lip, glancing at the notebook in my hand. – “Could it be the way you said it? Or maybe... something else? I mean, the symbols glowed, and the door felt like it was responding earlier. What changed?"

I crouched by the altar, running my fingers over the carvings again, searching for any hidden nuance I might have overlooked. The lines were intricate but consistent, their patterns clear. "The incantation is supposed to be enough," I muttered. "The runes describe it as a key, a way to unlock the door. But... maybe there’s more to it than it is written here. I’ve translated every text on the altar, and said it out loud, it is like we’re missing something obvious.”

Behind me, Nanfaz had been pacing, her bag slung over her shoulder and her face a mask of thoughtfulness. Suddenly, she froze, her eyes lighting up with realization. Without a word, she snatched the notebook from my hands, flipping back to earlier pages — the ones where I had scribbled rough notes and observations from before we reached the clearing.

"What are you doing?" – I asked, frowning. – “Did I miss something?"

"I think so." - She said, her voice laced with excitement. She stopped flipping pages and thrust the notebook toward me. Her finger jabbed at one of my earlier sketches. – “This!"

I stared at the page, my brow furrowing as the realization dawned on me. It was so obvious, yet I hadn’t thought of it in the moment. The very first clue that had set us on this journey.

"The text written on the statues." – I murmured, my voice tinged with both awe and frustration at my oversight.

"Exactly." – Nanfaz said, her enthusiasm growing. – “Think about it — those statues were the starting point of all of this. They led us here, to the altar and the door. What if their inscriptions aren’t just decorative or symbolic? What if they’re part of the key, something meant to work with the altar?"

I stood, my pulse quickening as the pieces began to fall into place. – “The statues’ text wasn’t just random. It must be connected to the incantation. If the altar’s runes are the key, then the statues’ inscriptions might be... a guide? A complement to the phrases?"

"Or an activation trigger." – Nanfaz added, her eyes gleaming. – “The altar and the statues were built together, weren’t they? They’re part of the same system. The statues weren’t just markers — they were meant to give us part of the answer."

I nodded, flipping back through the notebook to the pages where Nanfaz had jotted down rough transcriptions of the statues’ inscriptions. The text, written in the same alien script as the symbols on the altar, had seemed little more than a curiosity at first. Now, under the weight of everything we’d discovered, it felt urgent — vital even, as if it held the missing piece to the puzzle before us.

“We’ve still got four hours until nightfall.” – I said, my fingers tracing over the jagged lines of one of the transcriptions. – “That’s more than enough time for me to decode these too.”

Nanfaz hesitated, her expression clouding. – “No.” – She said, shaking her head. – “It won’t work.”

I frowned, looking up from the notebook. – “Why not? What’s stopping us?”

She sighed, brushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. Her voice was tinged with frustration, though it wasn’t directed at me. – “I’ve only noted down the text from two of the statues. I was planning to write down the one from the school statue today, but… well, we came here directly instead.”

I let out a low groan, the realization sinking in. – “So, it’s my fault. I let my anxiety get the better of us and dragged us out here before we were ready.”

“Hey.” – Nanfaz said sharply, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer. – “It’s not your fault, okay? Neither of us could have known this would be important. We’ve been working with what we had, and you’ve been leading this charge. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

I closed the notebook with a sigh, my fingers tapping lightly against its worn cover. – “Still, if I hadn’t rushed us…”

“If you hadn’t pushed us, we wouldn’t be here at all.” – She cut in, her tone firm. – “You’ve been the one holding everything together, Elewp. Without you, I wouldn’t have even made it this far. So don’t start doubting yourself now.”

Her words settled over me like a balm, soothing the sharp edge of my guilt. I glanced back at the altar, its unresponsive surface casting a faint glow in the dimming light of the forest. It was a reminder that our task was far from over, but Nanfaz’s support kept me grounded.

"Alright." – I said after a moment, my voice steadier as I closed the notebook with a deliberate snap. – “Then we’ll need to pivot. First, we head back to town and get that third inscription.

“No…” – Nanfaz’s voice was soft but urgent, cutting through the stillness of the clearing. Her brows knitted together, her expression clouded with a mix of apprehension and determination. – “I’ve had this feeling all day, like something’s about to happen. I think we’re out of time.”

I froze, her words hanging in the air like an ominous warning. – “What are you talking about?” – I asked, my stomach tightening with unease.

She turned to face me fully, her brown eyes brimming with intensity. – “We need to do this today, Elewp. Not tomorrow. Not after another detour. Today. Focus on decoding the text we already have. I’ll go back to town and get the last inscription.”

I blinked, her suggestion catching me off guard. – “You? Alone? Are you serious?”

“Yes.” – She said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. – “Without you, I’ll be able to move through the town more easily. I’ll go straight to the school, write down the text, and come back here. You don’t need me hovering over you while you decode, and I don’t need you drawing attention while I sneak around.”

The practicality of her plan was undeniable, but it still didn’t sit well with me. – “That’s risky.” – I said, frowning. – “The last time you ventured through the Black Forest alone…”

“I’ll handle it.” – She interrupted, her voice steady but fierce. – “This is the only way. You said it yourself — this could be the key to unlocking the door. We can’t afford to wait, not when everything is pointing to today being the day we need to act.”

Her certainty gave me pause. There was a fire in her words, a conviction that wasn’t just determination but something deeper — an instinct she couldn’t explain but trusted nonetheless. It was the same instinct that had brought us this far, guiding us through countless uncertainties.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I weighed her proposal. – “And what if something happens to you?”

Her smirk widened into a small, genuine smile. – “The sun is still on the sky. I’ve got this.” – She said, her voice filled with a confidence that was both reassuring and infuriating. – “You just focus on cracking that code. When I get back, we’ll finish this together.”

I nodded, watching as she adjusted the strap of her bag and turned toward the path leading out of the clearing. Her steps were quick and purposeful, but just before she disappeared into the shadows of the Black Forest, she glanced back at me.

“Don’t forget.” – She called out, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. – “I’m trusting you not to slack off while I’m gone.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. – “Don’t push your luck, Nanfaz.”

With a final grin, she vanished into the trees, leaving me alone with the altar and the weight of the task ahead. The clearing felt different without her, the stillness more profound, the hum of the altar more insistent. I opened the notebook again, my resolve hardening. There was no turning back now. We were committed, and every second counted.

----------------------------------------

“It seems I’ll have to do this the hard way.” – I muttered to myself, the faint echo of my voice lost in the crisp morning air. The first rays of sunlight illuminated the school grounds, casting long shadows across the courtyard as I approached the main gate. My boots crunched softly against the cobblestones, the sound swallowed by the stillness of the early hour.

The night had been a bust, my efforts to uncover traces of mana yielding nothing but frustration. Now, I’d shifted tactics. If I couldn’t find what I was looking for in the dead of night, I’d track it during the day. My new plan was simple: I’d analyze every single student using the mana gauge, methodically and thoroughly.

It hummed faintly, a subtle warmth emanating from it as it powered up. The enchantments embedded within the device sparkled faintly in the sunlight, a visual promise of its precision and reliability. This would work. It had to.

Stepping lightly, I jumped up to the top of the school gate, my movements fluid and silent. The wrought iron structure provided just enough cover to shield me from view. I crouched low, hidden by the decorative arches, and adjusted my hood to conceal my face further. From this vantage point, I could see everything: the school courtyard, the wide path leading toward town, and the trickle of students already beginning to emerge from the building.

Originally, I’d planned to scan the students as they entered the school. The logic was sound — catch them before they dispersed to their classrooms and disappeared into the labyrinthine halls. But oversleeping at the camp had thrown a wrench in that idea. I grimaced at the thought, but quickly dismissed it. This works just as well. Scanning them as they left would yield the same result. I just had to stay sharp and ensure I didn’t miss anyone.

The mana gauge activated with a faint hum, its display overlaying my vision like an augmented layer of reality. To the untrained eye, it looked like an ordinary tablet—sleek, compact, and unassuming. But its function was anything but mundane. At its center, a numerical display pulsed faintly, awaiting input. When pointed at any object or being, it would register and display its mana value with remarkable precision.

However, the device had its limitations. Creating something like this had proven far more challenging than anticipated, and its functionality was constrained. The gauge was only calibrated to measure mana levels between zero and ten — a range sufficient for most purposes but woefully inadequate for those who operated beyond the ordinary.

The scale was straightforward:

Zero meant the object or entity contained no mana at all—completely inert.

One corresponded to the mana levels of Inferior Beasts, creatures with minimal energy and low threat levels.

Two to Nine represented Hideous Beasts, formidable entities whose mana levels posed a real danger to the unprepared.

Ten marked the realm of Grand Beasts, creatures of great power, whose very presence could shift the balance of a battlefield.

I lifted the device, letting the screen sweep over the surrounding area. Its simplicity belied the ingenuity behind it. Producing a portable mana gauge required intricate enchantments and cutting-edge technology working in harmony. The complexity of the spellwork meant that expanding its range would exponentially increase its size and energy requirements, making it impractical for field use. Even so, this compact version served its purpose well enough in most cases.

But not in mine.

Before my awakening, mana gauges were little more than a theoretical concept. Back then, we had no way to measure power levels with precision—only rough estimates based on observation and experience. If I had to guess, I’d say I was somewhere around 7 on the scale we use now. A respectable level, one that marked me as above average, but still a far cry from the realms of legend.

When the first portable mana gauge was finally manufactured, it revolutionized how we understood and quantified mana. Naturally, I was among the first to test it. I remember the moment vividly, my fingers trembling slightly as I held the sleek device. I couldn’t resist the temptation to measure myself, to see where I stood.

The result was both thrilling and frustrating. The gauge’s needle shot up to 10 the instant I activated it, maxing out the device. It was a monumental reading, one that placed me above the power of all beings in the human world. But even as I stared at the blinking number on the screen, a nagging voice whispered in the back of my mind: This isn’t right.

I’m not just a 10.

The truth lay far beyond the device’s limited scale, a fact I would only confirm years later when the headquarters unveiled an advanced mana gauge capable of registering levels up to 100. This new gauge was a marvel of technology and magic, designed to measure the seemingly immeasurable. When I stepped up for testing, my heart raced with anticipation. Would it finally reveal the full scope of my power?

The answer was as astonishing as it was sobering. The gauge calibrated to me and stopped at 50, a staggering number that placed me in a league of my own. It was a moment of validation, proof that I had transcended the boundaries of ordinary understanding. But even then, as I stood in the glow of the device’s readout, I felt a familiar unease creeping in.

Even this doesn’t capture everything.

The numbers couldn’t account for the battles I had fought or the victories I had claimed. I had faced and defeated a Fabled Beast — creatures so rare and powerful that their existence blurred the line between myth and reality. Fabled Beasts weren’t just powerful; they were beings of unimaginable energy, far beyond the 100 mark on even the most advanced gauges. They represented the apex of mana, forces of nature incarnate, feared and revered in equal measure.

Yet, I had stood against one and emerged victorious. The memory of that battle still burned within me — every blow, every surge of magic, every moment where the line between survival and annihilation blurred into nothingness. The device at headquarters might have declared me a 50, but I knew better. I had wielded power that no gauge could ever truly capture, a force that defied comprehension.

And so, as I held the portable gauge now, its faint hum vibrating against my palm, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of amusement. Its numbers were useful for understanding the ordinary, but they would never define me. I had already stepped beyond the realms it could measure, into a place where power wasn’t just a number but a testament to what I had become.

With a faint smirk, I activated the device and began scanning once more, the glow of its display illuminating my resolve.

However, to my mounting frustration, the number didn’t even budge.

Zero.

After scanning every single student and teacher in this place, the mana gauge remained infuriatingly still, as if mocking me with its lifeless display. Each pass of the device over another person — a hopeful sweep of its sensor — ended the same way: no reading, no fluctuation, no sign of even the faintest trace of mana.

I leaned against the cool iron of the school gate, gripping the gauge tighter in my hand. The sleek device, which had once been a symbol of hope and precision, now felt like a useless weight. Its blank-faced screen reflected the sunlight mockingly, showing me nothing but the big, fat zero.

“This can’t be right.” – I muttered under my breath, my voice taut with irritation.

The only place the device registered anything other than zero was at the wolf statue in the courtyard. The moment I aimed the gauge at it, the number on the screen jumped to 10, unmistakably indicating the presence of a Grand Beast.

I stared at the stone figure, unease rippling through me. A beast? Here? In the middle of a bustling school filled with humans, and it hadn’t attacked anyone? The thought gnawed at the edges of my mind, refusing to settle into any logical explanation.

The statue itself was unassuming at first glance — weathered stone etched with intricate details, capturing the fierce majesty of a wolf in mid-snarl. There was no mistaking the reading. A Grand Beast’s energy radiated from it, strong and steady, even if the students that had walked past it were none the wiser.

I clenched the gauge tighter, my mind racing. If this was truly a dormant Grand Beast, why hadn’t it moved? Why hadn’t it attacked anyone? Beasts of this caliber were typically aggressive and destructive, their very presence a threat to all life nearby. Yet here it was, posing as a harmless statue in the courtyard of a school.

I could get rid of it.

The thought crossed my mind with startling clarity. A swift, decisive strike could neutralize the threat before it even realized I was here. But almost as quickly, I dismissed the idea. If this town had managed to survive this long with a Grand Beast in its midst, it wasn’t waking up anytime soon. Whatever enchantment or condition kept it dormant was clearly holding strong. Interfering with that balance unnecessarily could do more harm than good.

Still, the situation left me unsettled. This device, for all its usefulness, would never show a reading higher than 10. What if this wasn’t just a low-tier Grand Beast? What if this thing was something far stronger — something in the range of 70 or higher?

For now, I decided to leave it be. The statue was dormant, its energy contained. As long as it remained that way, it posed no immediate threat. But the knowledge weighed on me. This wasn’t just a statue; it was a ticking time bomb, its true nature hidden beneath a facade of stone and silence.

For now, the wolf statue remained a mystery, its presence an enigma I couldn’t ignore. But the bigger question burned in my mind, one that the gauge couldn’t answer: Why is it here?

I stepped away from the shadowed confines of the school, my footsteps firm and resolute against the cobblestone path. Hiding was no longer an option; it never had been, not really. Staying out of sight might have shielded me from gathering too much attention. but it did nothing to unveil the truths buried beneath the surface of this place. If there truly was someone here with powers — real, undeniable magic — it wouldn’t remain hidden for long. Magic, like a flame in the dark, could never be concealed entirely.

In a place like this, secrets had a way of slipping through the cracks, carried by hushed voices and curious glances. Rumors would ignite, spreading like wildfire. Every shared word would twist and grow, distorting into something larger than life, and soon, everyone would know. If there was a mage here, if the stories were true, someone would have seen something — a flash of light in the dark, an unexplained phenomenon, or even just a fleeting moment of the impossible.

I tightened my military coat around me, bracing against the chill that swept through the air. My presence outside the school would not go unnoticed for long. But I wasn’t here to cower in anonymity anymore. The time for silence and secrecy had passed. Now was the moment to act, to step into the open, and to find the answers that lay hidden beneath the veil of mundane normalcy.

The world around me seemed quieter, as though holding its breath, waiting to see what I would uncover. Every step I took reverberated with determination.

The streets of Procyon felt like a maze, every corner lined with wary eyes and whispers that cut through the heavy silence. I pulled my hood closer around my face, hoping to blend into the muted bustle of the marketplace. My heart raced with anticipation. If there was magic in this town, someone had to know about it. Rumors would have spread, little fragments of truth passed in hushed voices. I just had to find the right thread to pull.

I approached an elderly woman tending a stall filled with dried herbs and bundles of lavender. Her gnarled hands worked swiftly, tying twine around the stems, but her sharp eyes flicked toward me the moment I stopped in front of her.

“Excuse me.” – I began, forcing my voice to sound calm and casual. – “I’m looking for information about… magic. Have you heard anything?”

Her hands froze mid-motion, and for a moment, I thought she might ignore me altogether. Instead, she glanced around as if searching for eavesdroppers, then leaned forward slightly. – “Magic?” – She hissed, her voice barely above a whisper. – “You shouldn’t be asking about such things. It’s forbidden here.”

“Forbidden?” – I asked, intrigued. – “Why? Has it caused harm?”

She sighed heavily, shaking her head as though I’d asked something foolish. – “It’s dangerous, that’s why. It always starts with the machines, with the lights. And then it grows, bringing ruin. The bishop made sure we rid ourselves of all that. Better safe than sorry.”

I blinked, the pieces clicking into place. She wasn’t talking about magic, not really. She was describing electricity — technology. To her, the old world’s innovations had taken on an almost mystical quality, feared and condemned. It was hard to imagine the glowing lights and humming machines I’d grown up with being seen as ominous.

“Thank you.” – I said, stepping back before her muttered warnings about “dangerous ideas” could deepen my frustration.

The second person I found was a man hefting barrels near a storehouse. His burly frame and no-nonsense demeanor seemed like a better bet for straightforward answers. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“Excuse me.” – I said. – “Do you know anything about magic?”

He set the barrel down with a grunt, wiping his hands on his pants. His eyes narrowed as he regarded me. – “Magic? There’s no place for that nonsense here.” – He said gruffly. – “The only good kind of magic is the blessing of Procyon.”

“Procyon?” – I asked, tilting my head.

“The wolf god.” – He said, his voice thick with reverence. – “He protects this town, keeps us safe from the black wolves that stalk the forest. Without his blessing, Procyon wouldn’t exist.”

I nodded slowly, letting his words settle in my mind. The wolf god was woven into the fabric of this town, its very namesake. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story — something they weren’t telling me.

As I moved deeper into the town, I realized that I was hitting a wall. The townsfolk were either too afraid or too steeped in superstition to offer me anything useful. If I wanted real answers, I needed to go straight to the source of their beliefs. My footsteps carried me to the looming church at the heart of Procyon, its spire piercing the gray sky like a warning.

Inside, the air was heavy with incense, and the dim light made the space feel cavernous. At the altar stood Bishop Haldrin, his presence as commanding as the building itself. His piercing gaze settled on me as soon as I crossed the threshold.

“You are no local.” – He said, his voice cold and cutting. – “What brings you to Procyon, and what do you seek here?”

I straightened, meeting his gaze with quiet determination. – “I’m searching for answers.” – I said plainly. – “I’ve heard rumors of magic, and I want to know if they’re true.”

His expression darkened, the weight of his scrutiny almost palpable. – “Magic is not something to be trifled with.” – He said sharply. – “It has brought ruin before and would do so again. Where are you from, stranger? What are your intentions?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. – “I come from far away. My only goal is understanding.”

Haldrin’s sharp gaze lingered on me, his silence weighing heavily in the dim light of the chapel. His eyes, as cold and unyielding as the stone walls surrounding us, seemed to bore into me, dissecting every word, every intention I might harbor. Finally, he spoke, his voice dropping to a deliberate murmur, as though each word carried the weight of the town’s fragile peace.

“The closest thing you will find lies deep within the Black Forest — a witch who clings to the relics of the old world. Machines. Devices. That is the only magic left in Procyon’s shadow.”

A small smirk tugged at my lips as I stepped closer, the faint scent of incense mixing with the chill in the air. He had no idea what he was talking about, I realized. To him, the wonders of technology were some cursed echo of a bygone age. But that wasn’t what I was searching for. I wasn’t looking for machines or devices — this was about something far more profound.

“I’m not talking about technology.” – I said, my voice steady but laced with a hint of defiance. – “I’m talking about real, true magic. Like this.”

Without waiting for his response, I snapped my fingers. Instantly, a small flame flickered to life in the air above my hand, hovering and swaying like a tiny dancer caught in an invisible breeze. Its light illuminated my face, casting faint shadows that danced along the chapel walls. The flame wasn’t large or menacing, but it was enough — a quiet declaration of power in a world that denied its existence.

Haldrin’s expression shifted. His carefully composed mask of stern authority cracked, revealing a flicker of something deeper: disbelief, perhaps even fear. His lips pressed into a thin line as he took a step back, his hands tightening around the edge of the altar.

“What is this trickery?” – He demanded, his voice rising with tension. – “Such things are unnatural!”

“It’s not a trick.” – I said calmly, holding the flame steady as it pulsed and flickered. – “It’s magic. Real magic. Not some relic of the old world, not some machine powered by electricity — this is something entirely different.”

Haldrin’s eyes darted to the flame and back to me, his composure visibly fraying. – “This… this cannot be. Such power does not belong in this world. Who are you? What are you?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he seemed to wrestle with his thoughts. The weight of his authority flickered momentarily, but when he spoke again, his voice carried a measured wariness that betrayed the storm brewing within him.

“If what you say is true.” – He began, his tone slow and deliberate. – “Then you are not just a stranger — you are a threat. A threat to the order of this town, to the peace we have struggled to maintain. The people here do not need your… magic. They need Procyon’s protection.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with finality, but I barely had time to respond before he raised his hands and clapped them together. The sound echoed through the chapel, sharp and decisive, like a hammer striking an anvil.

From the shadows, figures began to emerge — six priests, each draped in the somber robes of Procyon’s clergy. Their faces were stoic, their movements swift and purposeful as they encircled me.

“Capture her!” – Haldrin barked, his voice rising with fervor. – “We have a witch right here in our midst!”

The priests advanced, their gazes cold and unwavering. My pulse quickened, and instinct took over. I stepped back, my hand already sparking with energy as I conjured a flickering flame. It hovered above my palm, casting an eerie glow on their faces.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” – I warned, my voice calm but edged with defiance. – “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

The priests paused for a fraction of a second, their eyes flickering with uncertainty. But Haldrin’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. – “Do not falter! She seeks to deceive you with her unholy tricks. Take her down!”

They surged forward as one, their steps measured but relentless. I clenched my hand into a fist, extinguishing the flame as I readied myself. I couldn’t afford to burn this place to the ground — not yet, anyway — but I wasn’t about to let them take me without a fight.

The priests advanced, their formation tight and deliberate, but I held my ground. My flame disappeared with a sharp flick of my wrist, leaving the chapel bathed in cold, shadowed silence. If they wanted to drag me down, they’d have to work for it.

The first priest lunged, his hand outstretched to grab me. I sidestepped, spinning on my heel to avoid his grasp, and brought my leg up in a sharp arc. My kick connected with his chest, sending him stumbling back into another priest with a grunt. The impact echoed through the chapel like a gunshot, and the others hesitated, their eyes narrowing as they reassessed me.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

So, they weren’t used to someone fighting back. That was good to know.

Another priest came at me from the left, quicker and more aggressive. His movements were methodical, but I’d faced worse. As his arm swung toward me, I ducked low, twisting my body to bring my leg sweeping out in a tight arc. My foot caught his ankle, and he crashed to the ground with a thud, clutching his leg as he tried to recover.

The others pressed in, moving as a coordinated unit. One darted to my right, aiming to flank me, while another feinted forward to distract me. I shifted my weight, staying light on my feet, and waited for the opening I knew they’d give me. The feinter struck first, his hands aiming to grab my arm, but I pivoted on the balls of my feet and drove my knee up into his stomach. The force of the blow left him gasping, and I followed it with a spinning kick that struck his temple, sending him crumpling to the ground.

The one on my right closed the gap, his hands reaching for my shoulders. I twisted away, grabbing his wrist to redirect his momentum. As he stumbled past me, I delivered a sharp kick to the back of his knee, forcing him down. A second kick to his side ensured he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

That left two, and they weren’t making the same mistakes as their companions. They approached cautiously now, circling me like wolves sizing up prey. My pulse quickened, but I forced myself to remain calm, controlling my breathing as I tracked their movements.

One of them darted in suddenly, throwing a punch that I narrowly avoided. I countered with a quick snap kick to his shin, making him wince and falter. Seizing the opportunity, I stepped forward and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to his jaw, the impact reverberating up my leg. He collapsed in a heap, leaving only one.

The final priest hesitated, his confidence wavering as he looked at his fallen comrades. “Enough!” – Haldrin bellowed from behind him, his voice trembling with fury. – “Do your duty!”

The priest lunged, his hands reaching for me in desperation. I sidestepped with practiced ease, bringing my leg up in a high kick that struck his wrist, forcing him to release his grip. Before he could recover, I spun on my heel and delivered a devastating side kick to his chest, sending him sprawling onto the cold stone floor.

I straightened, my breaths coming in controlled gasps as I surveyed the scene. The six priests lay scattered around the chapel, groaning and clutching their injuries. None of them were dead, though I doubted they’d be eager to get up anytime soon.

Haldrin’s face twisted in rage as he watched his supposed protectors fall one by one. He took a step back, his hands clenching into fists as if preparing to strike out himself. – “You… witch.” – He spat, his voice dripping with venom.

With a surge of adrenaline, I launched myself off the ground, propelling my body with such force that for a brief moment, it felt like I was flying. The air rushed past me as I soared over the crumpled forms of the defeated priests, my trajectory aimed straight for the bishop. His furious gaze tracked me for a split second, his mouth opening to bark another command — but he was far too slow.

I landed soundlessly behind him, my movements fluid and deliberate. Before he could even turn to face me, I extended a single finger, aiming for the vulnerable spot at the back of his head. With a calculated flick, I struck — not enough to harm him permanently, but enough to overload his senses. The bishop staggered forward, his knees buckling as his body gave out beneath him. A faint groan escaped his lips before he crumpled to the stone floor, completely limp.

The silence in the chapel was deafening, broken only by the labored breaths of the priests scattered across the floor. I straightened, brushing the dust from my sleeves as I stepped over the bishop’s unconscious form with a confidence I didn’t entirely feel but wore like armor.

“Arstria Sirius, The First Star Makes Her Debut!” – I declared, striking a dramatic pose with one hand raised in a V-sign and the other pointing toward the grand entrance of the church. The light streaming through the tall doors caught the motion perfectly, casting a dramatic silhouette of my figure against the dim interior.

I held the pose for a moment longer than necessary, the corners of my lips tugging upward in a self-satisfied grin. The faint echo of my voice bounced off the ancient stone walls, as if the building itself were politely humoring my theatrics.

“I really should stop doing that… There are no cameras in here.” – I shyly whispered, lowering my arms. My grin shifted into a sheepish laugh as I brushed a stray strand of pink hair from my face. – “But hey, instincts are instincts."

The thought lingered awkwardly as I stepped out of the church, my boots tapping against the cobblestone path. My gaze fell upon the wolf statue in the plaza ahead—another one of those Grand Beasts. Its presence resonated faintly with the mana gauge strapped to my wrist, confirming what I already suspected: it was dormant, just like the others.

So, there are multiple of them here. Why?

The question gnawed at me as I let a flicker of flame ignite in my palm, testing its warmth against the chill of the evening air. With a small push, the flame expanded, lifting me from the ground like a fiery comet. I launched myself toward the top of the church, landing softly on the rooftop’s weathered tiles. The sharp breeze cut across my face as I perched there, legs dangling over the edge, staring down at the plaza below.

I drew my knees to my chest, letting the flames dissipate as I leaned forward. – “What are you hiding?" – I whispered, my eyes narrowing at the motionless wolf statue below.

From my elevated vantage point, I lifted the mana gauge, its delicate mechanisms glowing faintly as I scanned the city below. The instrument hummed softly, a subtle resonance as it swept over the urban landscape. Almost immediately, it locked onto another statue, its carved stone form perched atop a distant hill. The hill, shrouded in the perpetual gray haze that seemed to hang over this land, bore an air of reverence around the statue.

The gauge pulsed faintly in my hands, its needles quivering as I continued to turn, sweeping its sight across the horizon. The soft hum of its mechanism grew louder for a moment, then fell silent, searching for a sign. I paused, letting the cool wind brush against my skin as I aimed it towards the dense black forest that surrounded the town like an impenetrable fortress.

Suddenly, the gauge twitched.

“Found you.”

----------------------------------------

The clearing was eerily quiet now, the weight of the ancient altar pressing down on the air around me. The runes glowed faintly, their light pulsing in a slow, deliberate rhythm as though waiting for me to solve their riddle. I ran my fingers over the pages of the notebook, my sketches and notes forming a chaotic mosaic of thoughts. Each symbol felt like a fragment of a language lost to time, yet tantalizingly close to comprehension.

“Alright.” – I murmured, more to myself than to the notebook. – “Let’s see what you’re hiding.”

“Runes like these… they’re like threads in a tapestry.” – I muttered, tracing a finger over the lines. – “Each one is connected to the others. Pull one, and the rest move with it.”

Minutes stretched into an hour as I worked, my focus unbroken despite the ache in my hands and the stiffness settling into my knees. My world shrank to the glow of the runes, the scratch of my pen, and the hum of the altar beneath my fingers. Every sequence I tried brought me closer, narrowing the possibilities until a clear pattern emerged.

The carvings on the statues not only carried distinct keywords of their own, but they also enriched the collection of symbols I had previously documented. Each newly uncovered carving added depth and complexity to the growing lexicon, hinting at a layered system of meaning that transcended simple inscriptions. These symbols seemed to weave together a narrative or structure that grew more intricate with each discovery.

For instance, one statue’s inscriptions included unique geometric shapes interspersed with what appeared to be runes. These runes mirrored some of the patterns I had seen on the altar in the forest clearing, but they also introduced new variations — slight alterations to the strokes, additional marks, or entirely unfamiliar configurations. It felt as though the statues served as repositories of ancient knowledge, each contributing a piece to an immense puzzle.

What struck me most was the interplay between the carvings. Words and symbols found on one statue would resonate with those on the altar, their relationships almost symphonic in their harmony. For example, the triangular configurations of symbols on the hill shrine mirrored a pattern I had seen at the church plaza but extended it with an additional layer of complexity, creating a sense of progression. It was as if the statues were meant to be read as a collective — a single, sprawling text broken into parts and scattered across the town.

As I continued my transcription, I noticed a thematic consistency emerging. Some symbols appeared to represent natural elements — water, and air — while others hinted at abstract concepts such as guardianship, passage, and duality. When combined with the inscriptions I had deciphered earlier, they suggested a broader framework of ideas, potentially a philosophy or even a guiding principle of an ancient culture.

This revelation expanded the scope of my work. The inscriptions weren’t just static decorations or isolated relics; they were active components of a larger system. Each new symbol added another dimension to the tapestry of meaning, beckoning me to delve deeper into their mystery. What truths did these statues guard, and what purpose had their creators envisioned for them? It was clear that the symbols held the key to unlocking not just the secrets of the Black Forest but also the hidden history of Procyon itself.

"Beneath the scorching inferno,

—

Beneath the dazzling paradise,

the wind reveals unspoken sins.

Beneath the dark abyss,

the water imprisons the forgotten.

There lies the Angel of the —"

After meticulous study, I had finally pieced together the keywords for the two statues I had studied so far. Each word was a revelation, a key fitting into the lock of an immense and intricate puzzle. Yet, the words etched into the statue in the school courtyard remained elusive.

----------------------------------------

Now, all that remained was to wait for Nanfaz. She was the key to unlocking the final mystery, the last piece of the puzzle that would allow us to open the ancient door. I exhaled slowly, letting the anticipation settle in my chest.

[Satisfaction]

Suddenly, a faint sound. I straightened instinctively, the tension in my body coiling as my hyper-awareness kicked in. Was it Nanfaz? No, the sound was too heavy, too deliberate. This wasn’t the sound of someone I trusted.

“Finally found you.” – A voice casually called out from the shadows. – “And look at that, a 9.”

My pulse quickened. The speaker wasn’t Nanfaz. Emerging from between the gnarled black trees was a cloaked figure, her silhouette obscured by the heavy fabric draped over her head and shoulders. She carried a strange, sleek device in her hands, something that looked more advanced than anything I’d ever seen — certainly nothing that belonged in Procyon.

She stepped into the clearing, her stride purposeful but relaxed. As the light from the runes illuminated her face, I saw a girl about my height, her expression one of unmasked curiosity. Her military-style coat hung loose around her, the edges frayed as though it had seen better days.

“What a strange place.” – She remarked, glancing up at the colossal door behind me. – “Isn’t that a big-ass door? What’s it doing here?”

Her manner of speaking was entirely foreign — casual, even irreverent, like nothing I’d heard in Procyon’s polite, restrained tone. And her clothes? Definitely not from around here. Procyon didn’t have a military, let alone anyone who dressed like her.

I swallowed the unease rising in my throat and forced my voice to steady. – “Who are you?”

The words tumbled out weaker than I intended, carrying a note of incredulity rather than authority. It didn’t help that the way she carried herself — confident, almost smug — threw me off balance.

The girl paused, tilting her head as though considering my question. – “Hm... I don’t think I should introduce myself.” – She said lightly, tapping her chin with a finger. – “But that’s something I need to do every single time.”

Her words — and the way she spoke them — felt maddeningly familiar, as though they’d been plucked directly from the recesses of my memory. And then, in one fluid motion, she flung the cloak off her shoulders, the fabric billowing dramatically before falling to the forest floor.

“Among the night sky, I alone shine. To protect humanity, and to save all the ones in danger.” – She struck a confident pose, one hand on her hip and the other pointing skyward. Her crimson eyes gleamed with unnatural intensity, and her salmon-colored hair caught the faint light of the runes. – “I am Arstria Sirius, the First Star!”

Her declaration echoed through the clearing, brimming with theatricality and fervor. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at her. Everything about her — from her unnatural appearance to her grandiose introduction — screamed fiction.

And yet, there she was.

[Embarrassment]

The girl’s confident demeanor wavered as her cheeks flushed pink, and she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “It totally sucks coming to a place where no one knows who I am.” – She muttered, pouting. – “Back at Sirius, everyone cheers the moment I say those words.”

Her complaint broke the trance-like state that had gripped me. My brain scrambled to make sense of what I was seeing. Was this real? Was I hallucinating?

“Long story short.” – She continued, her tone nonchalant now, as though we were discussing the weather. – “Congratulations, you’ve been chosen by the universe or whatever. And you need to come with me. Any questions?”

I blinked, trying to process her words. The only thing that came out was. – “Are you real?”

She tilted her head, her expression puzzled. – “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Literally that.” – I said, my voice trembling slightly. – “Are you real? Or am I dreaming?”

“Ohh! A proper reaction.” – She said, her confusion melting into amusement. Then her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied me more closely. – “Wait a second... Why do I feel like you know who I am?”

“I mean...” – I trailed off, my mind still spinning. – “You don’t look exactly how in the cartoon. Are you doing cosplay or something? But the voice... it sounds exactly like the voice actor’s.”

She recoiled slightly, blinking in confusion. – “Cosplay? Voice actor?” – She repeated the words as though they were foreign concepts. Then her crimson eyes widened with sudden understanding. – “Oh! You’re talking about the show!” – She crossed her arms and huffed. – “Of course, I’m not doing cosplay. What are you even saying? And yes, I voice-acted for my own show. I wouldn’t let anyone mimic my voice.”

Her words — so absurd, so impossible — hit me like a punch to the gut. Yet the conviction in her tone left no room for doubt. She believed every word she was saying.

To think that someone could take their obsession with The First Star this far. A crazy fan? Delusional? Maybe I should be impressed by her commitment to the act, but honestly, it was unsettling. Here I thought I was the biggest fan of the show — dreaming about it being real, imagining myself in Sirius City fighting alongside Arstria — but experiencing it in real life? It was far stranger and far funnier than I ever expected.

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, deciding to test her devotion to the role. If she was faking it, this would surely trip her up. – “If you’re really her.” – I challenged, my tone skeptical. – “Why don’t you use your star-gifted powers?”

Her crimson eyes lit up, a confident grin spreading across her face. – “Oh, this?” – She replied casually, raising her hand.

In an instant, five small embers flickered to life above each of her fingers. They hovered, dancing in the air like tiny, vibrant flames, their heat palpable even from where I stood.

[Arstria Sirius, The First Star]

[Elemental Affinity: Fire]

[Level: Grand]

“What the…” – The words escaped me before I could stop them.

“I told you.” – She said, her voice carrying an air of triumph. – “I’m real.” – She waved her fingers slightly, making the embers swirl around her hand in a graceful arc before extinguishing them with a snap of her fingers.

For a moment, my brain stalled, unable to process what I’d just seen. The embers weren’t a cheap trick; they weren’t holograms or sleight of hand. I felt their heat, saw their light reflected in her eyes. It was magic — actual, impossible magic.

She smirked at my stunned expression. – “Now, let’s get this straight.” – She said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. – “You’ve watched my show, right? How? I thought this backwards town was completely cut off from the rest of the world.”

I hesitated, her question pulling me back to reality. – “My father works and… lives… in another city.” – I said slowly, as though hearing the words for the first time myself. – “He gave me the first and second seasons as gifts.”

Arstria’s expression shifted instantly. Her confident smirk disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion. – “What the…” – She furrowed her brow. – “How could your father travel through the wastelands?” – She began to pace, her mind clearly racing as she tried to make sense of my words. – “Did he tell you which city he worked in?”

I frowned, her sudden shift in demeanor catching me off guard. – “Now that I think about it… no. He never told me anything about the city.”

“How long has he been working there?” – She asked, her voice sharp with urgency.

“Nine years, I think.” – I replied.

She stopped pacing, her hands balling into fists. – “What a cruel joke. Damn, I’m really pissed off now.” – She muttered under her breath, her crimson eyes narrowing as though she’d just uncovered some terrible secret.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” – I demanded, the unease in my chest growing.

She waved me off, clearly unwilling to share whatever had just clicked in her mind. – “Nothing you need to worry about right now.” – She dismissed. – “What’s more important is this.” – She took a deep breath, then locked her intense gaze onto mine. – “Okay, let me explain something to you. A lot of the show you’ve watched? It was censored.”

“Censored?” – I echoed, my skepticism returning.

She nodded grimly. – “Yeah. The show was created as propaganda, a way to keep people hopeful while hiding the worst of what was really going on. But even with all the sugarcoating, you should have a pretty clear idea of what’s happening.”

I didn’t respond. My mind didn’t want to accept what she was saying, but at the same time, I couldn’t ignore the conviction in her voice or the embers I’d seen dancing above her fingertips.

“Long story short.” – She continued, her tone flat and matter-of-fact. – “The world ended. Kaboom. Beasts appeared. They devoured 99% of humanity.”

I stared at her, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a physical force.

“Only one city survived.” – She went on, her voice softening slightly. – “Sirius City. It’s protected by a barrier.” – Her lips twitching into a bitter smile. – “Or, well, it was the only city. Until now.”

“What do you mean?” – I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She threw her arms out, gesturing to the forest around us. – “This place.” – She said, her tone tinged with disbelief. – “This town. Procyon. I just found out it exists. That means there are two human settlements left in the world.” – She shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and amazement. – “How the hell did you people survive this long without any beasts showing up?”

My memories of The First Star began to resurface, bubbling up one after another like fragments of a dream returning to focus. The lines, the scenes, the lore — everything felt both familiar and alien in the light of what I was hearing. I still couldn’t fully accept that all of this was reality, but something inside me shifted. Without even realizing it, I started to act like I was in an episode of the show.

I squared my shoulders, my voice steady as I spoke. – “The people’s beliefs... In Sirius City, everyone knew about the beasts’ existence because Sirius himself told them, right? And it was only after your introduction that the beasts began invading. That was because the people discovered Sirius was cursed, wasn’t it?”

Arstria tilted her head, the faint glow of the altar casting shifting shadows across her features. Her crimson eyes brightened with a spark of realization. – “Ohh… That actually makes sense.” – She said, nodding slowly. – “The beasts are born from belief, after all. And no one in this town ever believed they existed, living in complete ignorance. That’s probably why the beasts couldn’t get inside.”

“But wait.” – I pressed, my mind racing. – “The beasts invaded other cities before Sirius City, right? Back then, people didn’t believe in beasts either. How do you explain that?”

“That’s because of the barrier.” – She explained, her tone as if it was obvious. – “Without a barrier, beasts can come in whether people believe in them or not. After all, the barrier itself is powered by faith.”

I frowned, glancing back at the towering door behind us. – “Procyon doesn’t have a barrier... does it?”

Arstria let out a dry laugh, crossing her arms. – “It does.” – She said firmly. – “It’s likely made by Sirius himself. Hiding this place for so long without telling anyone? Classic Sirius.” – Her expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her frustration became palpable. – “That man... He always pulls stunts like this.”

Her anger surprised me, though it also felt oddly familiar. In the show, Arstria’s love-hate relationship with her father-figure had been a constant source of tension and humor. Watching her now, the same blend of resentment and begrudging respect seemed to flicker in her crimson eyes.

“But there’s something strange.” - She said, steering the conversation back on track. - “From what I’ve seen in town, people here seem superstitious. They believe in their god, Procyon. If belief fuels the beasts, shouldn’t the monsters from their myths appear?”

“Well, the only monsters they believe in are the Black Wolves. And the Black Wolves only show up here, in the Black Forest. No one ever ventures into the forest, so they never got close enough to summon them. I mean, I’ve walked through here myself, but I never believed in the wolves either. That must be why they left me alone.”

My own explanation struck a chord. Nanfaz’s story about encountering a wolf in the forest replayed in my mind. She had years of growing up with the town’s myths. Could it be that her belief — or fear — had brought the wolf to life? If so, that would explain why they appeared to her but not to me when we searched together.

But that didn’t add up. The beasts in the show didn’t just disappear after being summoned, did they? Once they existed, they stayed.

She frowned, her crimson eyes narrowing as though trying to recall something important. Then, as if a spark of realization struck her, she straightened suddenly. – “There are beasts in this town.” – She said, her tone sharp. – “Grand Beasts, actually. And I think you’ve seen them before.”

“What are you talking about?” – I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

“The wolf statues.” – She said simply. – “They’re not just statues. They’re dormant monsters.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. – “What did you just say?”

“I’ve got this mana gauge, it has appeared in the show.” – She explained, pulling a sleek device from her coat. – “I’ve been using it to look for you, but I couldn’t help noticing the readings I got from those statues. They’re Grand Beasts — powerful ones. But it’s strange... why are they dormant?”

I felt a shiver run down my spine, the weight of her revelation settling over me. – “Because...” – I began, the answer forming in my mind as I spoke. – “Because people believe they’re statues depicting their god. They’ve never been seen as something alive, so they never had a reason to awaken.”

“What happens if someone starts believing they’re not statues? What if they start believing they’re literal demons?” – Nanfaz’s face came to my mind as the words got out.

“Then they’d come to life. Wait a second… I already believe they’re beasts. I’ve proven their existence with this gauge. That means—” – She froze, realization dawning on her face. “Oh, shit.”

[Guilt]

As the sun dipped closer to the horizon, painting the forest in hues of amber and crimson, a heavy tension settled over us. Arstria and I locked eyes, both of us desperate and out of options. The implications of what she’d revealed were sinking in like lead weights. The wolf statues, dormant no longer, were now ticking time bombs.

Nanfaz.

The thought of her by one of those statues made my chest tighten with fear. Nanfaz just started to believe the statues are depictions of the Black Wolves. If one of those creatures came to life, she’d be right there, defenseless and completely unaware of the danger.

“Everyone in the town is in danger.” – She said, her voice trembling but resolute. – “If a human even approaches one of the statues now, they’ll wake up. They’ll come to life.” - Arstria’s face was pale, her usual bravado cracking under the weight of the moment.

“My friend.”- I continued urgently. – “She’s at one of the statues right now. She’s gathering information. She’s in danger. You have to go save her.”

Arstria bit her lip hard enough that I thought it might bleed, her fists clenching at her sides as frustration boiled over. - “What have I done…?” – She whispered, her voice tight with regret.

“Stop talking!” – I snapped, panic surging through me. – “Use your fire powers and fly over there! You can still make it in time!”

She hesitated for only a moment, then nodded sharply. – “Okay, okay, I’ll go! But listen to me—” – She jabbed a finger in my direction, her tone more commanding than ever. – “You need to come with me. As soon as the statues start killing people, this entire forest will be crawling with beasts. I can’t leave you here. I came here to retrieve you, and I’m not letting you die on my watch.”

“I’ll get my things and head straight to town.” – I said hurriedly, hoping to placate her. – “No problem.”

“No.” – She countered, her crimson eyes narrowing. – “That won’t do. You’re coming with me.”

“How?!” – I exclaimed, gesturing helplessly at the expanse of forest between us and the town.

Her lips quirked into a familiar, self-assured smirk. – “You’ve watched the show, haven’t you? I’ll carry you.”

Before I could question her further, she reached for the twin scabbards at her belt. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized them instantly — the twin rapiers, their intricate hilts gleaming faintly in the dying light. The same weapons the blacksmith had crafted for her in the show, forged with cutting-edge technology, able to conduct her magic like a wand.

With a practiced motion, she unsheathed the rapiers, their blades catching the last rays of sunlight. As soon as the swords were free, their tips ignited in flames, the heat making the air shimmer around us. She glanced back at me, her expression all business.

“I can’t hold onto you.” – She explained, her voice steady despite the urgency in her tone. – “I need both arms free to fly at full speed. So, you’ll have to hold on to me. Tight. Got it?”

She crouched down, presenting her back to me in a way that left no room for argument. It was a gesture that mirrored a scene from the show — the one where she carried the Second Star. The memory of it, a moment I’d always thought was sweet and romantic, flashed through my mind. I’ve always shipped them together, I thought absently, before the reality of the situation hit me like a slap.

My friend was in mortal danger. This wasn’t the time for silly fantasies or fangirl musings.

“Hey!” – Arstria snapped, her sharp tone breaking through my hesitation. – “What are you waiting for?”

Her expression — equal parts exasperated and determined — shattered any lingering notions of romantic undertones. I swallowed hard, shoving the thoughts aside, and wrapped my arms around her body as firmly as I could.

Arstria gripped her rapiers tightly. The flames at their tips flared brighter, their heat growing almost unbearable. Then, with a roar like a jet engine, the flames erupted in twin columns, propelling us off the ground in a burst of speed.

My stomach lurched as we shot into the air, the sheer force of the takeoff almost tearing me away from her. I tightened my grip, clinging to her as the world below blurred into a sea of black and dark.

“Here we go!” – Arstria shouted, her voice carrying easily over the rush of the wind.

I couldn’t reply, too busy holding on for dear life. The speed was incredible — far faster than I’d ever imagined from the show. The forest rushed past us in a dizzying blur, the wind roaring in my ears and tears streaming from my eyes. I wanted to yell for her to slow down, but the words caught in my throat.

“The statue at the school!” – I screamed instead, forcing the words out against the wind. – “That’s where she’ll be!”

“Got it!” – Arstria called back, her voice calm and steady despite the chaos around us.

She adjusted her trajectory with precision, angling us toward the town. Below us, the trees gave way to the edge of Procyon, the buildings tiny and fragile-looking from this height. In the distance, the school loomed, its courtyard dominated by the wolf statue.

----------------------------------------

As we drew closer to the school’s courtyard, a chill crept down my spine. Nanfaz was nowhere to be seen near the statue. The towering wolf sculpture loomed over the empty space, its stone exterior as lifeless as ever, but the air around it felt charged — heavy and oppressive, like the moment before a lightning strike.

We landed in front of the statue just as the last traces of daylight surrendered to the creeping dark. Arstria extinguished the flames from her rapiers, the sudden quiet broken only by the faint hum of her mana.

“Where’s your friend?” - Arstria asked, her voice taut with urgency as her crimson eyes scanned the courtyard.

“She should be somewhere here.” – I said, stepping forward. – “I’ll find her!”

I closed my eyes, focusing as I activated my hyper-empathy. Waves of emotions rippled through the space, each one a faint echo of life. A distinct pang of terror caught my attention, and I followed it, weaving through the courtyard and toward the shadowed stairwell near the edge of the school grounds.

There, hidden beneath the stairs, I found her. Nanfaz crouched low, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she trembled in the dark.

“Nanfaz.” – I called softly, kneeling to meet her gaze. – “Are you okay?”

Her head snapped up, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto mine. – “Elewp!” – She cried, her voice breaking with a mix of relief and panic. – “The statue… it came to life!”

“What?” – I asked, not understanding what she just said. – “But it’s not moving now...”

Nanfaz’s hands gripped my sleeve as she pulled herself closer, her voice trembling. – “It was moving before! It came to life and nearly slashed me down. But then... it stopped. It sensed something and returned to its pedestal.”

I frowned, my thoughts racing. – “Sensed something? What could it have sensed?”

Before she could answer, a sickening realization struck me. I turned sharply, my gaze snapping back to the statue in the courtyard.

Arstria was still searching the area, her rapiers lowered but ready. She glanced over her shoulder at me, her expression questioning. – “Did you find her—”

Her words froze mid-sentence, her gaze flickering to something her.

The statue.

It moved.

A low, grinding sound broke the stillness as the stone shifted. What had once been a lifeless carving now seemed to pulse with a sinister vitality. Its jagged claws twitched, the scrape of stone against stone sending chills through the air. And then, to my horror, the statue’s maw curled into a grotesque smile.

“Arstria!” – I shouted, my voice raw with panic.

She turned, but too late. The statue raised one massive claw, its movement unnaturally smooth now, and swung it down in a deadly arc toward her back.

Time seemed to slow.

Arstria’s eyes widened, her instincts kicking in as the glow of her rapiers reignited. She dropped to one knee, twisting just enough to bring one blade up to block the strike. The claw collided with her sword in a burst of sparks, the force of the blow sending her skidding back several feet.

“Damn it!” – Arstria hissed, her voice filled with equal parts fury and determination. She gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on her rapiers as flames erupted along their edges.

The statue, undeterred, stepped off its pedestal entirely. Its stone body cracked and groaned, its movements fluid yet unnerving. Its once-empty eyes glowed faintly, a malevolent green light shining from within as it advanced on her.

I grabbed Nanfaz’s hand, pulling her out from under the stairs. – “Stay behind me!” – I ordered, my voice firmer than I felt.

“What’s happening?” – Nanfaz asked, her voice shaking.

“The statue’s alive.” – I said, my words clipped. – “And it’s targeting her now.”

Arstria dodged another swing from the statue’s massive claw, her movements fast and precise despite the creature’s size. She struck back, her flaming rapiers slicing through the air in twin arcs. The blades connected with the statue’s stone arm, sending chunks of rock flying, but the creature barely flinched.

“This thing’s tougher than it looks!” – Arstria called out, her voice edged with frustration.

“Can you kill it?” – I shouted back, gripping Nanfaz tightly as I tried to keep her out of harm’s way.

“Of course!” – Arstria snapped, her flames intensifying as she launched herself into the air, propelled by jets of fire from her blades. She circled above the statue, slashing at its head and shoulders, her attacks precise and relentless.

The statue let out a guttural, inhuman growl — a sound that shouldn’t have been possible from a creature made of stone. Its glowing eyes followed Arstria’s movements with eerie precision, its claws swiping at her as she darted through the air.

From my vantage point, I could see the cracks forming along its body, the combined heat and force of Arstria’s strikes taking their toll. But it wasn’t enough. The statue was still standing, still fighting, its movements growing more aggressive by the second.

I turned to Nanfaz, her wide eyes locked on the battle. – “We need to get out of here.” – I said urgently.

“What about her?” – Nanfaz asked, her voice trembling.

“She can handle herself.” – I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure. – “Right now, we’re just in the way.”

As I pulled Nanfaz toward the edge of the courtyard, a chilling realization struck me like a thunderclap. If this statue could come to life, so could the others. The wolf statues scattered throughout the town weren’t just dormant — they were potential threats, ticking time bombs waiting for the slightest spark of belief to awaken them.

“We need to warn the town.” – Nanfaz muttered under her breath, her voice trembling as the weight of the situation settled over her.

I glanced at her, her face pale but determined. The fear in her eyes was matched by the flicker of resolve that I’d come to admire in her. But even as I agreed with her words, a different plan began forming in my mind.

I stopped running, grabbing her arm to halt her as well. – “You have to go.” – I said firmly.

“What?” – She asked, startled.

“You need to warn the town.” – I repeated, my tone leaving no room for argument. – “If Arstria loses, there’s no hope for anyone. I might be able to help if what she told me is true. But then someone must make sure the townspeople know what’s happening.”

Her eyes widened in protest. – “But you—”

“I’ll stay here.” – I interrupted, cutting her off before she could argue. – “If Arstria needs help, I might be able to buy her some time. If no one’s left to fight this thing, it’s over anyway.” – I hesitated for a moment, then added softly. – “Besides, you know how the town feels about me. They wouldn’t listen even if I tried to warn them. But they’ll listen to you. This is something only you can do, Nanfaz.”

Her expression shifted, a storm of emotions playing across her face—fear, guilt, determination. She swallowed hard, then nodded. – “Okay.” – She whispered.

Before I could react, she threw her arms around me in a tight hug, her trembling hands clutching at my back. – “Be careful.” – She said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

“I will.” – I promised, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

With one last glance at me, she turned and sprinted toward the edge of the courtyard, her dark hair whipping behind her as she disappeared into the night.

The sound of her footsteps faded, leaving me alone with the sounds of battle. Arstria and the wolf statue were locked in a deadly dance, the air alive with the clash of stone and flame. I gritted my teeth, my hyper-empathy humming faintly as I tried to focus on the fight ahead.

----------------------------------------

The damned statue was far stronger than I had expected. Each slash of my flaming rapiers seemed to barely scratch its surface, only chipping away at the edges of its stony exterior. Whatever mythical creature this thing represented, it was truly not a low-tier Grand Beast. Its movements were unnervingly precise, almost calculated, and to make things worse, it seemed to grow faster and more aggressive as the fight dragged on.

What made it worse was the silence. Back at the city, I knew there was a camera in every battle, with the entire city watching over me. But here? The only sounds were the clash of stone and the crackling of fire. Without anyone watching, there wasn’t even a reason for me to deliver one of my signature monologues.

Then again, perhaps there was. I glanced briefly toward the brown-haired, who stood in the shadows near the edge of the courtyard. She was watching, her wide eyes filled with fear and... faith. Faith in me.

It was true — faith mattered. Even my own belief in myself could influence my strength.

The thought ignited something inside me, a reminder of why I was fighting. I didn’t care if no one else was watching. This wasn’t about putting on a show; it was about protecting an entire town. Protecting the molecular cloud, and maybe even proving to myself that I was more than just a hero on a screen.

I tightened my grip on the rapiers, the flames burning brighter as I steadied my breathing. – “Beast born of humanity’s imagination.” – I began, my voice ringing out across the courtyard. – “My name is Arstria Sirius, and I will—”

“ROAR!”

The beast interrupted me with a feral bellow, lunging forward in a blur of motion. Its massive claw sliced through the air, forcing me to dodge rather than finish my monologue. I grimaced, my irritation briefly overriding my fear. When adapting to the show, we had to make the beasts more considerate. What a bunch of party poopers these real ones were.

But dodging alone wouldn’t win this fight.

“Starlight Thrust!”

With a shout, I ignited the flames on one of my rapiers, using it like a rocket engine to propel myself forward. My other rapier glowed white-hot as I focused all my power into its tip, aiming for the core I knew must be hidden within the beast’s head. Rapiers were made to pierce even the strongest of armors, and stone was no exception. Whatever was shielding this creature’s essence inside, I would burn it completely.

With a burst of speed, I lunged, driving the blade deep into the beast’s cranium. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

“Burn.” – I commanded, my voice cold and unyielding.

The fire traveled along the thin weapon, flowing like molten lava into the creature’s body. It ignited from within, consuming it entirely. As flames burst from every crack in its stony form, I twisted the rapier free and landed behind it, my back to the creature as it began to crumble.

“Know your place.” – I muttered, my voice carrying a cinematic edge as the beast exploded into a fiery cascade of ash and rubble behind me.

But the moment of triumph was short-lived.

“ROAR!”

The beast’s head, still glowing with malevolent energy, lashed out from the rubble. Its massive claw swung faster than I could react, slamming into me with brutal force.

The impact sent me hurtling through the air like a ragdoll. Pain exploded through my torso as I collided with a stone wall, the force of the blow knocking the wind from my lungs. Blood spattered from my mouth as I crumpled to the ground, clutching my chest. My rapiers clattered to the cobblestones, their flames flickering weakly.

I gasped, my vision swimming as I struggled to assess the damage. My mana shield had absorbed the brunt of the strike, sparing my vital organs, but the wound from my chest to my abs hurt fiercely. Every breath sent a sharp lance of pain through my body, but I forced myself to push past it.

The beast turned toward me, its body now a grotesque amalgamation of jagged stone and burning embers. It no longer resembled a wolf statue — it was something primal, something far more dangerous. Its glowing green eyes locked onto me, its movements predatory and deliberate as it approached, ready to finish the job.

----------------------------------------

“I’m sorry I’ve hidden this from everyone.” – I whispered, stepping toward the monstrous stone figure as it loomed over Arstria’s fallen form. She lay crumpled on the ground, her body trembling as she clutched her wounds, blood staining her clothes. The fiery light of her rapiers flickered weakly, their usual brilliance dulled by the force of the beast’s last strike.

I knew I had to act. I had to buy her time to recover. Even if it meant facing this creature alone, I couldn’t let it finish her off.

“This might be the only magic I know.” - I said, my voice trembling as I raised a hand toward the creature. The rough stone of its body reflected the dim light around us, every jagged edge a reminder of the danger it posed. – “But it’s saved my skin at least twice in my life.”

The creature’s massive head turned slightly, its glowing green eyes narrowing in my direction as though sensing my defiance. My heart thundered in my chest, but I refused to back down.

“Hyper-Empathy!” – I shouted, pouring every ounce of energy I had into the words.

The power surged through me, a torrent of emotions flooding outward like a dam breaking. The desperation that gripped me, the terror that Nanfaz had felt, and even the searing pain that Arstria was suppressing — all of it flowed into the creature. It didn’t matter if it was a stone monster or a living being; I would make it feel everything, force it to flinch, to stagger, to feel.

“Feel it all at once!” – I screamed, my voice raw and desperate.

For a moment, the air seemed to thrum with energy, my emotions radiating outward like a shockwave. The creature paused, its massive form unnervingly still. I held my breath, hope flickering to life. It’s working.

But then, the beast tilted its head, a faint grinding sound escaping as if mocking my attempt.

“…?”

It turned to face me fully, its expression unreadable but its intentions clear. The claw it had raised over Arstria now swung toward me with deadly precision, the force of its movement splitting the air with a sharp whoosh.

My body reacted instinctively, and I jumped back just in time, the massive claw missing me by inches. The ground where I’d been standing cracked beneath the impact, a plume of dust rising into the night air. My chest heaved as I stumbled, trying to understand what had happened.

Why didn’t it work?

Realization struck me like a blow. My Hyper-Empathy only works on living beings. I’ve never felt anything from these statues. They aren’t alive. They’re… something else entirely.

Panic surged through me as the creature’s glowing eyes locked onto me again. There was no time to run, no chance to dodge. Its claw swung toward me once more, and I braced myself, knowing I wouldn’t escape this time.

But before the blow could land, a brilliant ember shot through the air, streaking in front of me like a comet. The ember exploded on impact, the force of the blast knocking me off my feet and away from the creature’s path. The heat seared my clothes, singeing the fabric and grazing my skin, but I was alive.

I hit the ground hard, gasping as the pain lanced through my body. Dazed, I turned toward the source of the ember.

There she was.

Arstria stood once more, her rapiers raised and blazing with renewed fire. Her eyes burned with an intensity that sent chills down my spine, her expression hardened into one of unshakable resolve. Her hair, once a soft pink, now shimmered scarlet, the fiery strands catching the light like molten metal.

“Stay back.” – She said, her voice low and commanding.

The air around her crackled with energy as her mana surged, the flames from her rapiers growing brighter and hotter until they roared like a furnace. The ground beneath her feet began to glow faintly, the sheer heat radiating from her form scorching the cobblestones.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding as I watched her prepare to unleash everything she’d been holding back.

“Arstria…” – I breathed, my voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

The creature, undeterred, lunged at her with both claws, its massive bulk crashing forward in a single, devastating motion. But Arstria didn’t flinch.

“Enough.” – She declared, her voice slicing through the chaos like a sharp blade. – “It’s time you learned what happens when you challenge a star.”

Her words rang with finality, and as she spoke, the very air seemed to tremble.

“Grand Beast, born of fear, behold the power that fell from the heavens, the light of a sun that illuminates all!” – Her rapiers flashed in her hands, and two torrents of fire erupted from their blades, each spinning in opposite directions. The flames roared like living creatures, twirling violently into towering tornadoes, their fiery tendrils reaching toward the heavens.

“Ultimate Magic”

“Ars Nova”

I knew, in that instant, what was about to unfold. My body froze in awe, my eyes wide with wonder, as the two spiraling tornadoes collided in midair, their fiery paths meeting in a violent, harmonious clash. The power they released was overwhelming, a symphony of destruction that spiraled into a vortex of chaos. It was as if the very essence of fire had been unleashed upon the earth.

Then, with an almost imperceptible movement, she thrust her blades forward, sending the furious inferno hurtling toward the stone wolf.

“ROAR!” – The beast howled in agony, a sound that seemed more like an anguished cry than a simple roar. Its form twisted and writhed as the flames consumed it, the inferno sweeping across its body, turning it to smoldering cinders. The tornadoes were so finely controlled that nothing else was touched by the flames — no forest, no stone, no creature, save for the monster before her.

The chaos raged on, but only the enemy of mankind was destroyed. The power she wielded was absolute, a testament to her mastery, and in that moment, nothing could stand against it.

----------------------------------------

“Huff…” I exhaled heavily, my chest rising and falling with exhaustion. That had been far harder than I’d anticipated. Still, my attack was powerful enough to bring down a beast far stronger than this one. The girl, whose name I still didn’t know, stood frozen in awe, her wide eyes reflecting the flames that had just consumed our foe. For now, the town was safe.

And yet, a gnawing unease gripped me, a cold, pressing sensation that clawed at my soul.

Why? What was this shiver that refused to leave me?

“Aaah-ooooooooooooooh!”

The mournful howl split the air, distant but unmistakable. My heart sank. How could I have been so blind? How could I have forgotten?

“Aaah-ooooooooooooooh!”

A second howl followed, closer this time, reverberating through the night. My head whipped toward the sound, and my breath caught in my throat. My eyes widened in disbelief as two colossal shapes emerged from the darkness. They bounded effortlessly over the hills, their immense forms illuminated faintly by the moonlight. The ground quaked beneath their landing as they fell upon us, their sheer presence overwhelming.

The creatures circled their fallen brother, massive claws scraping against the charred stones. One began to dig furiously, as if trying to unearth something from the cinders, while the other threw its head back and unleashed another bone-chilling howl into the cloud-covered night.

The air grew heavy, suffocating, and I knew with grim certainty that our fight was far from over. My voice, barely audible over the chaos, cracked as I spoke.

“We need to go. There’s no hope for this town.”

The truth weighed on me as I said it, the words falling like stones into the pit of my stomach. We couldn’t save them. Not against this.

----------------------------------------

“What are you talking about?” – I couldn’t believe what Arstria was saying, her words cutting through me like ice.

“I’m nearly out of mana,” she admitted, her voice steady but weary. “I can’t use another ultimate. But I can still carry you to Sirius City. Listen to me — there’s no Second Star coming to help, no military to save the day. It’s just me. And if I’m out of fire, there’s no way to win.”

I stared at her, my disbelief morphing into something darker — frustration, desperation. She was right, wasn’t she? Arstria didn’t always win. Sometimes the focus shifted to the spear-wielding Second Star, her precise strikes ending battles she couldn’t finish. Other times, it was the military, their technological weaponry obliterating beasts with clinical efficiency. But now, there was no cavalry, no backup. Just Arstria. And she was nearly empty.

“But… everyone in this town will die.” – I said, the weight of those words sinking in. It wasn’t just a statement. It was a grim realization. If we left, the beasts would consume them all, just as the Livyatan had in the first episode.

What a hypocrite I was. I’d told Nanfaz I hated the town, that they deserved whatever misfortune came their way. Yet here I was, pleading with Arstria to save them. In truth, I didn’t care about the town. Not really. They’d always despised me, treating me like an outsider. But I cared about Nanfaz. She was my only friend, the one person who had ever mattered. The town could burn, for all I cared — so long as she survived.

“Will you carry Nanfaz with you, too?” – I asked, my voice faltering as the reality of the situation closed in around me.

“I can’t carry two at the same time.” – She said with a shake of her head. – “But I could try. It’d be incredibly dangerous, though. You don’t understand what the wastelands are like.”

The wastelands… It was never shown properly on the show. A place swarming with monsters, a living nightmare. I guessed Arstria survived it by flying fast enough to outrun anything that might hunt her, not by engaging in endless battles. But if both Nanfaz and I held on tightly enough, maybe we could make it.

And yet, there was one detail I couldn’t ignore.

“No… Nanfaz would never leave the town behind.” – I concluded, the truth settling over me like a heavy cloak.

Her family was here, and family meant everything to her. Something I’d never had, not really. If I had to leave my father behind, could I do it? The answer was no, and I knew Nanfaz would feel the same way. She wouldn’t abandon her family, even if it meant her life.

“AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” – The wolves’ haunting howls filled the air, a symphony of menace that seemed to shake the earth itself. One of the massive beasts finally ceased its frantic clawing at the charred remains of the fallen. From the ashes, it unearthed a gleaming green orb, an emerald-like jewel radiating a strange, eerie light.

----------------------------------------

Memories of a time I spent with someone I held dear under the Full Moon.

“Slip away, find a corner that’s just mine… Where no one expects anything.”

As she sat beside me, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere beyond, I saw a glimpse of something quieter, something hidden — A longing, perhaps, for freedom she couldn’t fully name.

“Then why don’t you?” — I asked, my voice as quiet as a ladybug.

Her eyes met mine, and there was a flicker of something in her gaze.

“Because the world I inhabit… It’s not just mine. It belongs to all of them. Their hopes, their fears, their faith — Everything I do becomes part of that.” — She paused, taking a breath, her face soft and steady. — “But with you… I can slip away, if only for a little while.”

She reached for my hand, her fingers curling around mine with something beyond warmth, grounding me in the present. In that simple gesture, I felt the quiet strength of her trust, a vulnerability she showed only to me.

----------------------------------------

Strange words and fractured memories clung to my mind, an unrelenting haze that tightened around my thoughts as my breath faltered. What is this feeling? Why does it ache so deeply, threatening to spill over as a flood of tears?

A void yawned within me, deep and unyielding, carved into both my heart and my past. It was as though I had forgotten something vital, something that should never have slipped away.

Why did it feel like I had once lost someone — someone as precious to me as Nanfaz? The thought gnawed at me, a whisper of a past too painful to recall. I couldn’t lose her too. I wouldn’t.

And yet, there was another weight pressing on me, heavy and bitter. A sense of guilt, like I had stolen something from this town, something so important it left a debt that could never be repaid.

Why did I feel compelled to protect these people, these very people who had hated me, who had once tried to end my life? What was it that tied me to them despite everything, despite the scars they’d left behind in my life?

Gripping the orb in its massive jaws, the wolf lifted its head as if to consume it. But before it could, the other wolf lunged, snarling and snapping. Its claws raked across its sibling’s flank, and in an instant, the two titans were locked in a vicious brawl.

They clawed and bit at each other with primal ferocity, their snarls and growls mixing with the sound of tearing stone. The ground trembled beneath their colossal forms as they fought, their savage instincts overriding any semblance of unity.

We could only stand frozen, watching in stunned silence as the beasts turned on one another. Their violence was so raw, so utterly consuming, that it left no room for anything else. Life drained from their monstrous forms with each brutal strike, until at last, the battle claimed them both.

“We need to go, now!” Arstria’s voice shook with desperation as she pointed the mana gauge at the approaching creatures. Trying its hardest to go over 10, but the intensity of their presence was enough to make the device quiver in protest.

“No.” – I said firmly. – “I won’t go. I’m staying.”

She turned to me, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. – “Are you being serious right now? Don’t you care at all about your life?”

“Honestly? I don’t,” I admitted, my voice steady despite the chaos around us. “I’ve thought about death more times than I can count. And even though this town has treated me terribly, there are people here who’ve helped me in ways I’ll never be able to repay. If I run now and let this monster slaughter them, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I’ll stay. I’ll try to convince them to evacuate to my fortress. With its technology, maybe — just maybe — there’s still hope.”

“Hope?” – She snapped, her tone a mixture of frustration and anger. – “There is no hope! That creature is reaching Fabled levels of power. It will destroy everything. Not even I can stop it!” – She gestured to the towering form manifesting before us, her eyes wide with grim certainty.

I could see she was trying to dissuade me, but I was resolute. And when she realized that nothing she said would change my mind, she fell silent, her shoulders sagging with reluctant acceptance.

“Fine.” – She said finally, her voice cold. – “Then stay. This is just a mission for me, and I can’t afford to die here. Humanity depends on me staying alive.”

Slap!

“What a disgrace you are!” – I spat, my anger boiling over. – “You really are an impostor, aren’t you? The Arstria I grew up admiring, the one I watched as a child, would never say something like this! You’re supposed to be a star— not someone who fights to win, but someone who fights because no one else can. Fly away if that’s what you want, but don’t you dare call yourself a star. If I had your powers, I’d stand and fight. I’d protect these people — even the ones who hate me — because that’s what being a star means! You’re a hypocrite. The only people who matter to you are the ones in your precious city, huh? Maybe it’s a good thing the show was cancelled. With the way you think, you wouldn’t save anything — not even the people you love. If it is really up to you, the world will really end."

Her head hung low, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. Then, her voice came, soft and cracked. – “You don’t know what it’s like… to lose someone you care about. This whole saving the world thing? It’s a joke — a cruel one — when you can’t even save the person who matters most.”

I froze, my anger momentarily eclipsed by confusion. – “What are you talking about?”

Her voice was distant now, like she was speaking more to herself than to me. – “Do you know why the show was cancelled? It wasn’t because of ratings or budget cuts. It was because they couldn’t adapt what came next. I lost him. I lost the person who meant everything to me. Too grim, I guess, for a show designed as propaganda.”

I stared, the weight of her words sinking in.

Arstria took a breath and stood. She turned toward the creature, its monstrous form solidifying in the distance.

“You’re right.” – She said, her voice steady now. – “I’ve lost my way. But I’m a star, aren’t I? And if I’m going to fall, I’ll fall shining bright.”

Without another word, she walked toward the towering beast, her twin blades glowing faintly in the dim light, her silhouette a lone, defiant figure against the chaos. Every step she took seemed to echo, the air around her heavy with an otherworldly tension.

The creature before us began to solidify, its monstrous form emerging from the swirling chaos like a nightmare taking shape. The three emerald cores embedded in its body pulsed rhythmically, like alien hearts, each beat sending ripples of energy crackling through the air. Slowly, the cores fused together, merging into a massive, singular gem that radiated an unnatural green glow.

From its gaping maw, tendrils of green fire licked outward, flickering ominously in the dark. The flames seemed alive, writhing and curling like serpents, as if they possessed a will of their own. One of the creature’s heads tilted back, releasing a bone-rattling howl that shook the ground beneath us. Another snapped its jaws, crunching through empty air with a sound like grinding stone. But the central head did nothing — its luminous, emerald eyes fixed on us with chilling intensity, filled with a terrible, ancient intelligence.

As its form came fully into view, I felt my breath hitch. The creature was titanic, at least three times the size of an elephant. Its massive, wolf-like body was composed entirely of jagged stone, each piece interlocked like armor. Cracks and seams across its surface glowed with the same green fire, as if molten energy coursed through its veins. Runes etched into its rocky hide glimmered faintly, ancient symbols pulsing with light, their meaning lost to time but radiating raw power nonetheless.

Its three heads were as menacing as they were distinct, each with a terrifying aura of its own. The left head’s mouth was perpetually open, flames spilling out with every breath as though it could exhale destruction at will. The right head snarled, its sharp stone teeth glinting like blades, snapping at anything that dared draw near. And the central head, silent and commanding, radiated an unnerving calm, its gaze unyielding, as though it was appraising us, measuring our worth — or perhaps, our inevitability.

When it moved, the ground trembled under the sheer weight of its presence. Each step was accompanied by the grinding sound of stone against stone, a symphony of destruction heralding its advance. The air itself seemed to vibrate with its power, the emerald flames casting an eerie glow across the battlefield.

For a moment, there was silence, the kind that comes before a storm. Then, like a thunderclap, a voice — deep and resonant — echoed in my mind, though the beast had not spoken aloud. It carried no words, only a feeling: primal, commanding, and absolute.

Fabled Beast

Cerberus

The Gatekeeper of the Underworld

“Then I might as well introduce myself, too.” – She said, her voice steady, her lips curling into a defiant smile that betrayed no fear. The towering presence of the beast before her seemed to fade in the face of her unshaken resolve. – “I am the First Star, Arstria Sirius, and I will burn you down as many times as it takes.”

As she spoke, the flames emanating from her twin rapiers began to surge, growing brighter and more intense with every passing second. The scarlet hue of her hair flared like an inferno, dancing wildly as though it too burned with her fiery determination. Her presence became almost unbearable to look at, a blazing sun that made the beast hesitate for the briefest moment before continuing its slow, deliberate approach.

“Ultimate Magic.” – She declared, her voice echoing like a battle cry that shook the air around us. – “ARS NOVA!”

The flames around her ignited with such ferocity that it felt like the world itself was set ablaze. Her body became a living conduit for the fire, her veins glowing as though filled with molten lava. Two fiery tornadoes erupted from her rapiers, spiraling upward into the sky before converging into one massive, cataclysmic vortex. The sheer heat distorted the air, and the light was blinding, casting harsh shadows across the battlefield.

The tornado of fire surged forward, crashing into the beast with devastating force. The flames enveloped Cerberus completely, a raging inferno that scorched everything it touched. The ground beneath it blackened and cracked, molten fissures forming under the intensity of the heat. But the beast didn’t falter. Slowly, it pushed forward, its three heads snarling in unison, their emerald eyes gleaming through the firestorm.

Arstria’s breath was ragged, her body trembling as the flames around her intensified once more. – “Ultimate Magic.” – She screamed again, her voice straining with the effort. – “ARS NOVA!”

A second eruption of fire consumed her, the energy so overwhelming it was like staring directly into the sun. The flames exploded outward, a volcanic blast that could have reduced entire cities to ash. The sheer brilliance of it obscured everything, making it impossible to tell if Cerberus was even still standing. All I could see was the blinding light, all I could feel was the heat scorching my skin.

And then, the light dimmed just enough to see.

Its stone hide glowed with cracks of green fire, as if it had absorbed the attack itself. With a terrifying roar, its central head lunged, claws slashing through the air.

The impact sent Arstria hurtling backward like a ragdoll, her body arcing high into the air. Time seemed to slow as she reached the peak of her flight, then came crashing down. The sound of her body hitting the ground was sickening — a skull-shattering thud that made my stomach churn. She landed face-first, motionless, right in front of me.

I froze, unable to move, as blood began to pool beneath her, dark and glistening in the light of the fading flames. It seeped outward, a stark reminder of her humanity, until it touched my feet.

Her rapiers lay just out of reach, their flames extinguished. The star who had been a beacon of hope, of power, now lay broken before me.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as I knelt beside her. Her once-fiery hair was dull, her scarlet glow extinguished. The air was eerily quiet, save for the heavy breaths of the beast, which stood unscathed, its three heads turning toward me.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

“No… No… Why…”

Tears began sprouting down, as the idol I’ve admired my entire life laid there in front of me, and it was my fault. I had convinced her to fight when she just wanted to leave. And that was not even the worst part, it will kill me next, it will then kill Nanfaz, and the rest of the town, then one day, it will invade Sirius City, and kill everyone there, including my father.

This was unfair, so unfair.

If I hadn’t been born, no one would need to be hurt this way.

Not the girl that I couldn’t even remember.

Not Nanfaz who just wanted to know more about the world.

Not Arstria who just wanted to live.

And I still stand here, unfair.

The beast flung its claw towards me, cutting me in half.

Awaken

“As if.”

The words escaped my lips with a calm defiance I didn’t fully understand. Time seemed to stretch and warp as the beast’s massive claw hurtled toward me, promising to crush me where I stood. But it never connected. The massive stone appendage froze mid-air, held in place by an smaller claw — one that radiated a strange, ethereal rosé light.

I stared, disbelieving at this claw. Its form was surreal, shimmering like the aurora yet solid as steel. The strangest part, though, was its connection. It wasn’t a separate entity; it was mine. Somehow, impossibly, it extended from me. My own arm had transformed, the soft skin replaced by something primal, something not entirely human.

“ROAR!”

The Cerberus bellowed in frustration, its three heads unleashing torrents of green flame. The fire surged toward me, a cascade of destruction meant to consume everything in its path. Yet, it never reached me. A dense furred aura, pink as a cherry blossom and glowing faintly, rose around me, deflecting the flames with ease.

I looked down at myself, or rather, the reflection of my newfound form. My muscles felt alien, coursing with untapped power, and my body was no longer entirely human. My hands were clawed, sharp and deadly, and my eyes — diamond-shaped and predatory — glistened with a luminous black. I was not enormous, not larger than a tiger, but every fiber of my being radiated strength that was closed to the Cerberus.

What was I? The realization came with a flood of memories long buried. Stars fall from the sky, just as beasts do. Perhaps, long ago, one beast descended, not like the others. Perhaps it took a human form, lived among them, loved among them. And in that love, I was born — a child caught between two worlds.

“My mother...this is what you gave me, isn’t it?” – I whispered, the words filling the void in my heart.

As the transformation stabilized, I felt it — power, ancient and boundless. The truth of my heritage coursed through me.

Fabled Beast

Kitsune

The Cerberus, though powerful, now looked beatable, caught in my gaze. Moving with a speed I couldn’t have dreamed of moments ago, I leapt at it, my jaws sinking into the neck of its central head. A sickening crunch echoed as I ripped the stone apart, hurling its shattered fragments to the ground. One head severed, the beast howled in agony, its green fire flaring wildly.

It tried to counter, slamming its massive weight down upon me, but I met it head-on. One claw caught its descending claws, halting it mid-crush, while my tail surged upward, piercing through its chest like a spear. The force sent the Cerberus sprawling backward, its massive frame crashing onto the pedestal it had emerged from.

But I didn’t stop. The surge of primal energy coursing through my body demanded more. Instinct drove me forward, each movement faster, sharper, and more precise than the last. I darted toward the beast, weaving past its snapping jaws and swiping claws with an agility that defied reason. My claws tore into its regenerating stone flesh, ripping through layers of enchanted rock and exposing the glowing runes beneath. Each fragment I dislodged hovered momentarily in the air, as if mocking my efforts, before reassembling itself and snapping back into place.

The Cerberus retaliated with ferocity, its three heads working in unison. One lunged at me, snapping its jaws like a steel trap. I twisted, narrowly avoiding its fangs, and lashed out with my tail, striking the head with enough force to crack its stony exterior. The second head followed immediately, green fire spewing from its maw in a blazing torrent. I leapt high into the air, the flames grazing the tips of my fur, and landed atop the creature’s back.

From this vantage point, I struck again, raking my claws down its spine and severing more runes. The beast bucked wildly, trying to throw me off, but I held firm, digging my claws deep into its rocky hide. Below me, the third head turned, its glowing emerald eyes locking onto mine. It opened its mouth, preparing to unleash another wave of fire.

But I was faster.

Leaping from its back, I somersaulted through the air, landing directly in front of the head. With a roar of my own, I plunged both claws into its maw, shattering its stone teeth and silencing the impending inferno. The head recoiled, its once-mighty jaws crumbling into rubble.

The Cerberus, enraged, reared up on its hind legs, its massive shadow engulfing me. Its combined fury shaking the heavens. With a thunderous crash, it slammed both forepaws onto the ground, creating a shockwave that rippled outward and threw debris into the air. I was forced to retreat momentarily, skidding across the ground but maintaining my balance.

As the dust cleared, the Cerberus began to regenerate once more. Shards of stone hovered in the air, reassembling with a low, ominous hum. The runes on its body glowed brighter, their light pulsating with renewed intensity. It was adapting, growing stronger with each passing moment.

And then, the clouds parted. The battle’s chaos gave way to the soft glow of the night sky, and there, shining in its full brilliance, was the Full Moon. Its light poured over me, illuminating every corner of my form, and I felt my body resonate with its celestial radiance. My fur turned silvery white, the blood in my veins glowed as pure as starlight, and my eyes shifted to a luminous green.

A mana gauge, dislodged from Arstria, clattered to the ground. Its screen pointed towards me — and then it exploded.

White Tail of Divinity

From the shadows of the crumbling town, the villagers began to gather, drawn by the thunderous roars and blinding flashes of power that shook the night. At first, they came cautiously, peering out from behind broken walls and shattered doorways. One by one, they stepped into the open, their faces pale with fear and awe as the battle unfolded before them.

Their whispers grew into a collective murmur, a sound caught between terror and reverence. The creature standing against the monstrous Cerberus was no longer the outcast they had scorned, nor merely a girl battling impossible odds. To their astonishment, it was as if the divine itself had descended. My form shimmered with moonlit brilliance, my fur catching the celestial glow like molten silver. When the second tail unfurled behind me, it seemed less a physical feature and more a proclamation — a banner of the heavens themselves.

"Could it be...?" – One villager murmured, clutching a worn amulet depicting an ancient deity. Another fell to their knees, tears streaming down their face as they whispered prayers they thought had gone unanswered.

"Procyon has appeared to save us.” – An elder rasped, their voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear.

My radiant figure before them was unmistakably kin to the being they had once worshipped in tales passed down through generations. I bore the same unyielding power, the same celestial grace. The villagers’ disbelief gave way to a dawning realization: the very heavens had taken on my form to protect them from the devilish beast.

The Cerberus, a monstrous embodiment of chaos and destruction, seemed like an incarnation of their darkest fears, a devil sent to punish their hubris. Yet here I stood, luminous and unbroken, holding back the tide of despair.

With each motion of my tails, the townspeople could see echoes of their long-forgotten myths come to life. As I leapt, claws tearing through the beast's runic hide, it was as though the stars themselves moved with me. My defiance against the Cerberus was not just a fight; it was a divine battle, a manifestation of cosmic order against primordial chaos.

And when my second tail coiled and struck with the swiftness of lightning, piercing through the beast's chest and throwing it backward with celestial might, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Some cried out in astonishment, bowing their heads in silent gratitude.

To the villagers, it was no longer just a battle. It was salvation — A divine reckoning brought forth by the very one they had once forsaken.

Kyros appeared behind the school gate, his breath shut down as his eyes fell on the white, radiant form standing amidst the chaos. For a moment, he thought it was an illusion, a trick of the moonlight refracting off the battlefield. But no, it was real. My fur gleamed like silver, and the spectral glow from the two tails painted the surrounding ruins with an unearthly brilliance. He couldn’t take his eyes off the figure — a being that seemed to transcend the mortal plane, a fusion of primal fury and divine grace.

Amidst the rush of power, I felt a presence — a memory. Lime hair and emerald eyes. A girl who had left a gaping hole in my soul. I hadn’t forgotten her entirely; the void she left had been ever-present, shaping me. For her, for Nanfaz, for Arstria, for the people who had scorned me, I would protect them all.

Energy coalesced in my mouth, swirling into a tightly compact sphere of wind and pressure. The air itself responded, condensing and spinning with terrifying speed. The eye of a storm formed within me, a razor’s edge of pure force. They say the wind, when harnessed with enough pressure, can cut through anything.

“Magatama”

I whispered, my voice carrying with it the weight of my resolve.

The sphere turned into a sharp, thin slash — a torrent of focused wind that surged forward, slicing through the Cerberus with surgical precision. The cut was clean, perfect, dividing its emerald core into two. The cracks spidered outward, the core shattering completely.

A moment of silence hung heavy in the air before the Cerberus crumbled. Its massive frame collapsed into rubble, its once-mighty presence reduced to dust that scattered into the night as if it had never existed.

Breathing heavily, I stood amidst the wreckage. The townspeople’s murmurs reached my ears, hesitant and disbelieving. For the first time, I saw not hatred in their eyes but awe — and perhaps even hope.

But amidst the chaos, one figure remained on the ground, her body crumpled where it had fallen. Arstria. The girl I had known as a star, the one who had fought with every ounce of her strength, now lay before me, her body bloodied and broken.

I approached her slowly, my senses still heightened from the battle, the rush of adrenaline fading to a dull ache in my chest. My mind was clouded, confused by the strange emotions that churned within me. As I approached her, my heart clenched in disbelief.

The air around her was heavy, thick with the weight of her injuries. Her body, once radiant with fiery power, now seemed frail, broken. But something was wrong. Something was off.

I reached out, my claw trembling, and touched her skin.

It was warm.

Arstria's form twitched ever so slightly, a subtle movement that might have been overlooked if I hadn’t been so close. I recoiled, unsure of what I was seeing. Her chest rose and fell, faintly, a rhythmic breathing I thought I’d never hear again.

She’s still alive.

A surge of disbelief flooded through me. How could this be possible? Her body had been shattered, her bones crushed by the force of the Cerberus's claws, her blood pooling around her like a crimson halo. And yet, as I watched, something strange began to happen.

Her wounds began to knit together, slowly, almost imperceptibly. The jagged gashes in her flesh closed up, her bruised skin fading back to its normal hue. It was as if she were regenerating — no, an immortal.

I blinked in confusion, my mind struggling to process what I was witnessing. How is this possible? Arstria, the mighty First Star, the hero who had fought with unyielding courage and boundless power, was… coming back from the brink of death. Her body was repairing itself, a slow but steady regeneration that seemed to defy all logic.

I reached out again, this time more carefully, my fingers brushing against her arm. Her skin was soft, but the warmth beneath it was undeniable.

“Arstria…” – I whispered, my voice trembling. – “How are you still…”

Her eyelids fluttered, and then, with a small gasp, she opened her eyes.

For a moment, there was only silence. She pointed her head towards me, still with her eyes closed. Her lips parted, and a faint, strained smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, as if she was too exhausted to fully comprehend what had happened.

"The thing is." – She said softly, her voice carrying a strange humor. - “I died a bunch of times during my life, but we removed those parts from the show. Sorry about that!"

She blinked and stared at me, her expression flickering between confusion and disbelief. Her eyes finally locked on my monstrous form, and her body recoiled instinctively.

“What are you!?” – She gasped, her voice betraying the shock and fear that gripped her. Her eyes darted between me and the remains of the Cerberus scattered across the ground, the beast now reduced to nothing more than broken stone and ash.

“I came here to bring a star back, but I got you mixed up, you’re a beast...”

She took a step back, pulling her rapiers from the floor with swift, practiced movements. Threatening and shacking from my presence.

“Wait, no!”

But before I could react, the moon above us, once full and brilliant, began to cloud over once more, its silver light dimming as thick, suffocating darkness covered the sky. The surge of energy that had propelled me, the power that had transformed me into this creature, suddenly began to dissipate. The strength that had flowed through my limbs, making me feel invincible, drained away, leaving only an overwhelming weariness in its wake.

My body trembled, the pain from the battle and the transformation crashing down on me like a tidal wave. My muscles, stretched and torn, refused to support me any longer. My mind began to cloud, consciousness slipping from my grasp.

Bishop Haldrin approached from behind, his hands clutching his ornate staff as the wind tugged at his heavy robes. His usually composed face betrayed rare astonishment.

The world around me tilted, the ground seemed to shift beneath my feet, and I felt my knees buckle. My vision blurred as I sank to the floor, unable to stay upright any longer. The weight of exhaustion was too much, and as the last remnants of my strength slipped away, I collapsed, my human-shaped body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

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