Axel grew serious.
"Stay where you are."
The two men quickly moved away, heading toward a separate space that resembled a makeshift room. The rest obeyed without question.
Nero, Lux, Kōri, and Sunday sat in a secluded corner. A heavy, uncomfortable silence settled between them.
Sunday was the first to break it.
He looked at Nero seriously and leaned in slightly.
"Hey… I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I didn't mean to."
Nero watched him for a few seconds. He didn't seem to be evaluating him; rather, he seemed to be wondering if it was worth responding. Finally, he nodded slowly.
"Me too. I shouldn't have reacted like that."
There was no immediate relief. Only a fragile calm, like ice about to crack.
"Your swordsmanship…" Nero added after a moment, "isn't so bad, considering how unpredictable you are."
Sunday let out a short, almost involuntary laugh. Lux and Kōri exchanged glances; they didn't say anything, but both noticed that something between them had changed.
Nero lowered his gaze… and it lingered on Kōri's skirt.
"What are you looking at?" she asked, blushing slightly.
"How can you argue with that?"
Kōri hesitated for a moment.
"It's light. And flexible. It's not as much of a hindrance as it seems."
The conversation continued for a few more minutes. Brief smiles. Trivial words.
But Nero was no longer there.
The Smilers declared war on us.
It wasn't an exaggeration.
Fifty monsters.
Twenty of them.
Rank 11s… at least.
Nero sighed and massaged his temples.
I need to rank up. Fast.
The church wasn't an option. Self-control… too simple.
He was left with goals. The consumption of Centrums.
Change what?
Habits.
Fears.
Emotions.
Bad habits.
Routines.
Everything was so ingrained that he didn't even know where to begin.
I suppose that's the point.
Then, the idea appeared.
The oil spill.
A forbidden ritual. One that no one performed without consequences.
If it works… maybe I can contact him.
An angel?
An archangel?
A god?!
Nero smiled.
It wasn't a peaceful smile.
It was a dangerous smile.
In the secluded room, five people sat in a circle. Axel stood in the center.
"We're dead," someone said bluntly.
"The Smilers aren't a gang," another added.
"They're monsters."
Axel closed his eyes for a moment.
As leader… I have to make sure everyone lives.
"We only have one option," he finally said.
He swallowed.
"Flee the eastern zone."
"Are you crazy?!" Westen jumped up, his chair falling to the floor. "The Fillius Dei would kill us before we even tried!"
"Calm down," Axel replied. "I have a plan."
After a tense, short, and bitter argument, the group left the room.
They gathered everyone.
Nero and his group stood together, silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Axel's voice echoed through the room, "we have bad news."
"Our greatest enemy has declared war on us."
"We have no chance of winning."
He took a deep breath.
"We'll escape… through the sewers."
Silence fell like a ton of bricks.
Then murmurs. Suppressed panic.
Nero's eyes widened.
The sewers…
It was a death sentence.
A taboo in Vickmolt. The Fillius Dei guarded every entrance—agents trained to crush common criminals.
"You have one day," Axel continued. "One day to prepare."
He looked… scared.
"Are the Smilers really that dangerous…?" someone murmured near Nero.
Yes, he thought.
They're damned monsters.
"We'll go south, then west, and finally north," Axel said. "We'll meet inside the sewers. Bring your families."
He paused.
"And one more thing… the eastern zone will be destroyed."
Are you kidding me…?
Nero gritted his teeth.
He had to pack. Quickly. Warn Rose.
The ritual… he might not have time anymore.
In the Alexue House.
Nero packed his things with quick, mechanical movements.
As he folded the last item of clothing, he understood.
If they ran away… there would be no ritual.
If he performed the ritual… he might not run away with them.
He closed his backpack.
He left his room and opened Rose's.
She looked up. She was studying.
"Pack," Nero said. "We have to go."
Rose sensed the gravity in his voice and began packing without saying a word.
Nero returned to his floor. He rummaged through the table drawers until he found the ritual manual.
He held it for a few seconds.
Then he put it in his backpack.
In the kitchen, Sunday waited, leaning against the wall. He had nothing with him except his katana. Lux carried a backpack with the Lokg securely fastened.
Kōri paced nervously.
Rose left the room with her backpack half-closed.
She said nothing. She asked no questions. She just glanced at Nero once and nodded.
Then it happened.
A loud crash shook the house.
The walls vibrated. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Then another.
And another.
In the distance—shouts.
"What was that…?" Kōri whispered.
There was no need to answer.
An explosion lit up the windows with an orange flash. The ground shook beneath their feet.
"They've started again," Lux said, his voice strained.
There was no time to think.
"Move!" Nero ordered.
They ran out into the street.
The east side was in chaos.
Buildings collapsing. Flames rising through the smoke. People running aimlessly—some shouting names, others praying, others simply fleeing.
The explosions kept rumbling, getting closer and closer.
"This way!" Sunday shouted.
He didn't hesitate. He ran as if he already knew the path.
The group followed him without question.
They turned corners, crossed alleyways, dodged rubble. The air was thick with ash and the smell of burnt metal. Each explosion made Nero tighten the straps of his backpack.
The ritual manual felt heavier with every step.
Finally, Sunday stopped in front of a forgotten structure among the ruined buildings.
An old iron gate, half-hidden under trash and debris.
"It's here," he said.
Lux approached and helped Rose up. The metal squeaked with an unpleasant sound.
From below, a thick stench rose suddenly.
"Ugh…" Kōri muttered, bringing a hand to her mouth.
It wasn't just dirt.
It was rot.
"Come in," Sunday said.
Another explosion shook the ground—too close.
They didn't hesitate.
One by one, they descended.
The inside of the sewers was a different world.
Dark. Damp. Alive.
The smell was suffocating—a mixture of stagnant water, rust, and something else… something organic.
Rats scurried through the shadows. Insects crawled along the walls, some far too large to be normal.
Rose gagged.
"Don't look," Nero said softly. "Just walk."
The water reached their ankles. Each step produced an unpleasant splash.
"This place…" Kōri whispered, "shouldn't exist."
"It does," Sunday replied. "That's why no one comes down."
A metallic clang echoed in the distance.
Nero stopped.
"Did you hear that…?"
"Silence."
Then—a slow, heavy drag.
In the darkness, Nero saw the barrel of a gun.
"Get down!"
The bullet grazed his face.
Sunday and Nero activated their auras.
Nero drew a card and filled it with aura, hurling it forward. The blast lifted water and debris, blinding the enemy for a split second.
That was enough.
Sunday moved fast, sliding to the side. His katana traced a clean arc in the air, forcing the agent back.
Another shot grazed Sunday's shoulder.
Nero closed the distance.
The agent thrust out his palm, unleashing a violent gust of wind. Sunday dodged, but Nero was thrown backward.
Sunday charged his blade with electricity and, in one swift motion, pierced the agent's throat.
The man stared at him, eyes wide.
"S-Sora…?"