His feet steadied beneath him, pressing deeper into the ground. His breath—once ragged and uneven—slowed into a steady beat. The trembling in his fingers ceased. The fog clouding his thoughts lifted. His eyes narrowed. A resonance rippled through the space around him.
Something shifted inside Ren.
Nocstella's gaze flicked, as he surged forward.
His body tore across the glade, his hood ripping free from the force of his acceleration. Yet, Nocstella remained motionless, head tilted to the side, as if observing a kid rather than an attacker. Ren's sword rose in a sharp, rising arc—aimed straight for her midsection.
She moved at the last instant, a fluid blur of shadow and silk.
Her hand snapped up with divine precision and caught the flat of his blade.
The moment her fingertips grazed the steel, a thunderous force detonated outward.
Ren's sword shattered in her palm. Shards exploded across the glade like broken glass.
The backlash sent Ren stumbling backward—but he didn't stop. He adjusted mid-step and charged again, this time bare-handed, fingers curled into fists. He ducked beneath a lashing tendril of shadows, twisted his hips, and drove his fist straight into her jaw.
CRACK
Nocstella staggered—not by choice.
Her head snapped to the side, pitch-black hair spilling across her face. Her body tensed—not in pain, but in disbelief. The blow had forced her back a single step. But it was enough to know.
She could be touched.
Ren froze, panting, staring at his fist as though it didn't belong to him.
"I hit her," He breathed. "I actually—"
She straightened, crimson eyes locking onto him. One pale hand rose to her face. Her fingertips brushed the spot where his knuckles had struck. A faint red line traced across her cheekbone.
"Fascinating," She whispered. "You…touched me."
Ren didn't answer. His thoughts were spinning too fast.
"I suspected it might be true," Nocstella continued. "But now I am certain."
A smear of crimson welled at the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away with her thumb, studied the blood with a curious grin, then lifted her gaze back to him.
"You're a Respondent…"
Ren didn't understand what she meant.
"I should have known," She murmured, her eyes dissecting him. "The dissonance. The refusal. The rejection of death itself. But…you shouldn't be whole."
She looked at him now like a flaw the world had failed to erase.
"How…" Her voice wavered between accusation and awe. "When did you awaken it—without me knowing. A solidified essence stands in front of me? And it seems I failed to have noticed."
She began to circle him, slow and deliberate, like a viper closing in on a mouse.
"It doesn't matter that you struck me," She said, cold and calm. "Or that your body remains intact when you return. You may respond to death—but you are not immune to it."
She stopped abruptly and turned to face him.
"No matter. Respondent or not, you are still Hollow—pretending you exist." The warmth in her voice was gone, replaced by something weary and irritated. "This—whatever this is—is only stalling. Nothing more. Even the others fade in time."
She stepped forward, fingers curling at her sides.
"You still believe there's a you in there, don't you?" She pressed. "That you're still that boy named Ren…Ren Blackwood. That you survived all those deaths without consequence?"
Ren stood firm.
"You think Eva's voice will bring you back if you fall. That your soul still resides within you. And worst of all…" She leaned forward. "You believe your mother would be proud of you for this."
Something shattered behind Ren's grey eyes. He launched forward with raw, feral force.
Tendrils erupted—jagged shadows slicing through the air—but Ren tore straight through them. He slid beneath a scything arc, seized a tendril at its base, and ripped it free. Another coiled around his arm—he tore through it without hesitation. He closed the distance as Nocstella raised a hand to strike.
It was too late.
CRACK
A right cross slammed into her jaw.
CRUNCH
A left hook crashed into her ribs.
Nocstella staggered back, shadows writhing beneath her skin.
Ren didn't give her room to breathe. He surged forward, fists blurring—each strike fueled by rage, memory, and refusal. Blood slicked his hands—hers or his, there was no telling anymore.
"You think I'm like them?!" Ren shouted between blows. "You think I'll forget?!"
She raised her arms to shield herself, shadow veining across her forearms—but Ren smashed through the defense with a brutal punch to her cheek. She stumbled backward, balance failing.
Before she could fall—
Ren grabbed her shoulder, and yanked her forward.
"You think I'm fake?! I'm hollow inside?!"
BAM
A right hook crushed into her temple.
She collapsed to the ground, and Ren dropped onto her, straddling her waist.
His fists rained down.
One.
"Every part of me—"
Two.
"—that broke—"
Three.
"Is still here!"
She raised a trembling palm to block him.
Ren slapped it aside and drove another series of blows into her face—her head snapping violently with each impact. Her nose fractured. Her lip split. Her skin bruised and darkened.
She tried to form another tendril—but Ren shattered it before it could take shape.
Nocstella stared up at him, gasping in disbelief.
Her composure cracked.
Then her divinity.
For the first time since her existence—
Nocstella felt fear.
Her arms flailed, then fell limp.
She wheezed a whisper, so faint it nearly vanished into the air.
"C-Caedros…"
Ren's arm froze mid-swing.
Blood bubbled from her lips as she coughed, her voice raw and desperate.
"Please…" She choked. "Lend me…more of your power…"