Breath ragged, legs trembling, Shinji could barely stand.
The alleyway, once a fleeting refuge, had become a sealed trap.A stone corridor. A bottomless tomb.
Before him, the dogs growled.
Their fangs glistened, foam flecking their jaws, muscles twitching with anticipation.They didn't attack. Not yet.They knew. They savored.The fear. The weakness. The scent of blood simmering beneath his skin.
And behind them… the butcher.
Towering, still. A chain in one hand. A smile on his lips.
— "Filthy traitor."His voice was steady. Almost calm.— "I'd have preferred to slice you up myself. But them… they've earned it."
Shinji didn't answer. He had no strength left.
He raised his eyes. The sky was nothing but a gray gash.No escape. No light.
He wanted to beg. But for what? For whom?
He lowered his head and whispered:
— "…Mom… Dad…"
His legs gave out.
He collapsed to his knees.
The cold stone bit into his bones.
He wanted to cry. But even his tears had abandoned him.
— "Will I… see you again? In the beyond?"
He knew it was a lie. A coward's exit.
He'd met death before. And it had led him nowhere.
Only here.In this hell where even the dogs refused to grant him a swift end.
The butcher raised his arm.Chains clinked.
— "What are you waiting for? Tear him apart!"
A growl. Then another.
The largest dog stepped forward, slowly. The pack leader.
Shinji had no strength to rise.He felt his heartbeat slow.His vision blurred.
And when the beast lunged, jaws wide, he thought he saw his death—
—but instead of fangs… he saw a silhouette.
A shadow fallen from the sky.
A man.
He stepped in the way.The impact was brutal. Claws, teeth, shouts.And yet, he held.
— "Move, idiot!" the man shouted. "You've got a chance! Take it!"
Shinji didn't understand. Not yet.But his legs had moved before he had.
The red-haired man deflected a second dog with a swift knee, drove his elbow into the ribs of a third, then reached for a short knife strapped to his belt.In one fluid, precise motion, he slit the pack leader's throat.The beast collapsed, panting.
— "Got the other one, Ryouma."
A voice rang out from behind the butcher.
A second man—same build, same face. But where the first was fierce and agile, this one was calm, calculated.
He had struck the butcher at the back of the head, slamming him into the wall.
— "Had your fun?" he asked, wiping his hands.
— "You took your damn time, Hayato. Still overthinking every move."
— "And you're still too impulsive."
Shinji stared at them, dazed. Mouth slightly open.
They were identical. Nearly impossible to tell apart.
Twins.
But one had blazing red hair, the other icy blue.
And in every movement, every look, every stance—they were complete opposites.
They finished off the remaining dogs together. In sync.Without wasting a single word.
It took only seconds.
Then, silence.
Shinji didn't dare speak. He wasn't even sure he was still breathing.
The red-haired twin—Ryouma, apparently—approached.
He looked him over. Long and suspicious.
— "Who the hell are you?"
— "I… I'm Shinji."
— "Shinji, huh? Doesn't sound local."
Ryouma crouched down. His gaze hardened.
— "The dogs were afraid of you. We saw it. Why?And that blade… Explain yourself."
Shinji backed away an inch.
— "I… I don't know."
— "Wrong answer," Ryouma spat. "You wanna play that game? You think we saved you for laughs?"
He grabbed him by the collar—rough.
— "I swear, keep lying, and I'll finish what those dogs started."
Shinji felt his heart slam against his ribs.
He wanted to scream, to object—but Hayato raised a hand.
— "Let him go."
— "You're too soft, Hayato."
— "And you're too reckless. He'd be dead without us. He's lost, not dangerous."
Ryouma growled, but obeyed.
Shinji dropped back to his knees. Struggling to breathe.
And in that moment of weakness, a certainty took root:
— They didn't save me. Not for me.
He looked down. His fist clenched around nothing.
— They want something. Just like the others.This place… everything here… reeks of interest.Kindness is a mask. The rest is just calculation.
He had wanted to believe. He had needed to believe.
But this alley, this scene, this brutality wrapped in rescue…
— This world doesn't want me alive. It wants to break me.Grind me down until I beg to die.
Hayato spoke again, more calmly:
— "Where are you from? Which zone of Stygia?"
He hesitated. His mouth stayed open. A word was trying to surface. But he had no trust left to give.
— "I… I'm not from here."
Silence. A long exchange of glances between the twins.
Then a grin. Almost predatory.
— "Did you hear that, Hayato?"
— "I heard it. That blade… now it all makes sense."
They both nodded.
And suddenly, shadows dropped from the rooftops.
Knives in hand. Eyes cold. Silent figures.
— "We finally found him," Ryouma murmured. "After all this time."
— "Tonight… after everything we've sacrificed."
Shinji didn't understand.Not their eyes. Not their hatred.Not the sudden hunger in the gaze of those now circling him.
— "Found who?" he whispered.
But no one answered. They didn't need to.The silence said everything.
The first blow landed without warning. A fist to the ribs.Then a knee. Into his back.Then others followed—none meant to kill. Only to hurt.To punish.
— Why? he thought, dazed, as the ground rose up to meet him.
Hayato stood with arms crossed, watching.
— "Be careful," he said coolly. "He needs to stay alive."
Ryouma, on the other hand, was smiling.
— "But nothing says he can't learn his place."
A foot crashed into Shinji's side. Then another, harder.Blood spilled from his lip. He didn't have the strength to scream.Only to exist. For a little longer.
— What did I do? Why this hatred?
He tried to look into their eyes. Searching for an answer.
But all he found was a void, heavy with contempt.
A whisper escaped him—unheard.
— This world wants to crush me…
His mind drifted, like it was fleeing his battered body.He could feel his consciousness unraveling—and the fear dissolving with it.
Until one detail broke the cycle.
A silhouette.
Just one.
Calm. Upright. Silent.
It moved toward them.
The Zephyr members froze, struck still as if by a cold wind.
— "Who the hell is that?" Ryouma spat.
Hayato narrowed his eyes.
The figure—man or woman, it was hard to tell—wore a long cloak. And their eyes…
Shinji saw them.And there was something in those eyes.
Hatred. Yes. But not theirs.
An ancient hatred. Infinitely sorrowful.
And the voice. Soft. Whispered. Carved into emptiness.
— "Don't worry, Shinji. Enma hasn't abandoned you."
Shinji's eyes widened.
That name. That single word.
— "Enma…?"
He didn't know where he had heard it before.Didn't know why his body reacted like it had been struck by lightning.
But he felt it to his very bones.
A cold shiver froze his breath.
That name… held all the pain of his soul.
He collapsed. Body broken. Spirit fractured.
And on the edge of unconsciousness, a final, fragile, senseless hope flickered within him:
— You're not alone anymore.