In the mountains of the Eastern Empire, a silhouette bursts forth.
Branches crack.
She weaves between the trunks, rebounds, glides, then leaps again.
Leaves whirl in her wake, the landscape rushing past at breakneck speed.
She lands on a branch, draws a dagger, and hurls it into the air.
A fireball erupts, striking the blade almost instantly. Explosion.
The shockwave hurls her backward.
But she regains her balance, lands on the ground, and shoots forward like an arrow.
Gusts of wind whistle around her, branches snapping behind her like a frenzied melody.
And already, in a flash, she launches into acrobatics across the ground and through the trees.
She finally bursts out of the forest into a lush green meadow—
no time to catch her breath.
A chain of thorns slices through the air and rushes toward her, fast as lightning.
With a swift, fluid motion, she extends her hand and conjures a red energy barrier that blocks the attack.
But the enemy lunges from her left, claws sharp as razors, and pierces the silhouette.
Fabric.
It was only a veil.
As he realizes it, a violent kick slams into him full force, sending him spinning like a top.
He straightens himself and spots the body that had been hidden beneath the veil.
It reveals itself.
That of a young girl, around fifteen years old, dressed in black.
Her blue hair whirls in the wind.
She barely has time to catch her breath before a massive man appears behind her, an enormous hammer raised above his head.
She slowly turns her gaze toward him.
Her eyes glow red like embers.
The hammer crashes down.
The impact is colossal.
Yet she is not crushed.
She stands atop the man's head, motionless, dominating the scene as if to assert her superiority.
The man wearing a mask with three vertical slits rises to his feet.
He tenses his legs and lunges at her, claws bared, moving at blinding speed.
At the same time, the man with the hammer charges again.
The battle shifts.
One against two.
She dodges. Again. And again.
The attacks rain down, but none of them touch her.
Suddenly, she pivots and delivers a brutal kick to the hammer wielder's face, forcing him back.
In the same motion, she grabs the masked man and hurls him through the scenery.
But he charges again immediately.
She deploys a red energy shield.
The assault is blocked—
Too late.
The hammer crashes down.
The shield fractures, then shatters under the impact.
The girl dodges once more.
But this time, her movement is slower.
She is clearly weakened.
Before she can regain her footing, another attack erupts—
from below.
Thorned chains burst from the ground, trying to coil around her.
Her red aura suddenly ignites in the palm of her hand.
A blinding light erupts.
Then—an explosion.
A torrent of flames sweeps over her enemies, shattering the chains and ravaging the battlefield.
At the heart of the inferno, one silhouette remains motionless.
Within the flames, a luminous halo rises above the girl.
Angelic wings slowly unfurl from her back.
But another enemy strikes from above.
Sabre raised, he descends, ready to cut her down.
She reacts instinctively.
A blade of energy forms in her hand and parries the strike in a flash.
— So… already at the end of your strength, princess ?!
The newcomer immediately follows with a spinning kick.
The girl raises her arm and blocks the impact, teeth clenched.
The blow sends her rolling away as the hammer wielder charges again, Saint-Martin enveloping himself in an intense blue energy.
— No, wait!
The voice of the man with the three-slitted mask rings out.
Too late.
The hammer slams down.
The impact devastates the entire area.
The ground explodes, titanic shockwaves sweeping across the battlefield, engulfing everything in their path.
Growls echo through the thick smoke.
Arcs of energy still crackle in the air, briefly illuminating the silhouettes standing amid the chaos.
A metallic hiss suddenly slices through the mist.
The smoke splits in two.
The man with the sabre calmly sheathes his weapon, then lets out a long sigh as he turns toward the hammer wielder.
— Hey, Zep… care to explain what the hell you were thinking ?
His voice is weary, irritated.
— I remind you, we were ordered to bring her back alive.
The man with the three-slitted mask emerges from the rubble, dusting debris from his shoulders.
— You've got some nerve talking, Kay.
— You tried to slice her in half too.
Kay flashes an arrogant, almost mocking smile.
— Maybe.
— But at least I didn't get stepped on by a fifteen-year-old girl, Zod.
A tense silence settles.
Then footsteps echo.
A fourth silhouette slowly steps out of the dust.
His clothes are torn, a scarf covering the lower half of his face.
A bandage hides his right eye, while the other gleams with a crimson, feline light.
— Stop bickering like children.
His voice is calm. Sharp.
— You all screwed up.
— No point arguing about which of you was the least pathetic.
Zod and Kay fall silent at once.
The wind sweeps away the last clouds of dust around them.
— Good.
The man pauses, scanning the area.
— Anyone know where she went?
Kay shrugs, feigning indifference.
The leader crouches down and presses two fingers into a dark puddle on the ground.
Blood.
A greenish tint mixes with it.
— In her condition…
He slowly straightens.
— She couldn't have gone far.