Yukanda was no longer alive.
It existed in a state suspended between presence and absence, as if the city itself had forgotten how to breathe. Its heart had stopped long ago, yet its wounds refused to heal. Time moved forward, but Yukanda remained trapped in the moment of its destruction.
The streets were broken beyond recognition. Deep cracks spread across the ground like scars, as though the earth had tried to tear itself open to escape the suffering above it. Buildings leaned at unnatural angles, their foundations weakened, their walls blackened by fire and smoke. Windows were shattered, staring out like hollow eyes that had witnessed too much and remembered everything.
Ash drifted through the air, slow and heavy. It clung to the remains of the city, carrying with it the scent of burned stone and lingering despair. Every breath felt thick, as if the air itself mourned what had been lost.
Silent figures lay scattered across the streets.
Some wore the remains of military armor.
Some were dressed in simple clothing, their lives clearly cut short in the middle of something ordinary.
Others were so damaged by the destruction that there was no way to tell who they had once been.
Silence ruled Yukanda now.
Not the peaceful silence of rest—but the hollow kind that follows chaos. The kind that comes only after screams have faded, after hope has been crushed, and after everything worth protecting has already been taken away.
And through this silence—
Akuma walked.
His footsteps were slow and deliberate, echoing softly against the broken stone. Each step seemed almost respectful, as if he were passing through a grave rather than a city. His clothes were torn, stained dark by dried remnants of past battles, yet his posture remained straight and composed.
There was no panic in his movements.
No hesitation.
Only quiet certainty.
As he moved forward, fragments of memory surfaced in his mind—sharp and painful, like broken glass pressing against his thoughts.
Fire spreading through the streets.
Voices crying out in fear.
A distant scream calling his name.
Akuma stopped.
His jaw tightened. His hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides, the muscles in his arms tensing as he forced the memories back down.
"…This place," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and steady,
"…it hasn't changed at all."
He exhaled slowly, grounding himself. Whatever Yukanda had once been—whatever it had meant—it no longer mattered. The past had already claimed it, and the present had nothing left to offer.
Akuma stepped forward once more, disappearing deeper into the ruins.
The Mayor's Last Stand
On the far side of Yukanda, where a few damaged towers still stood, Max struggled to remain on his feet.
His body was completely worn down. One side of his face was badly burned, the skin rough and cracked. His uniform was torn and soaked, clinging to him as pain spread through every muscle. Each breath felt heavy, as if his lungs themselves were resisting him.
Still, his eyes refused to give up.
He stared straight at the man before him—the masked leader.
"You call this justice?" Max shouted, forcing strength into his voice.
"You wiped out an entire city!"
The masked man stood calmly, hands resting behind his back. His posture showed no tension, no urgency. His mask was clean, untouched by the destruction around them.
"Justice?" the leader replied in a calm tone.
"No. This was necessary."
Max let out a short, bitter laugh that quickly turned into a cough. He steadied himself, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
"You erased Yukanda," he said, anger shaking his words,
"…just to prove a point?"
"Yes," the leader answered without hesitation.
"Yukanda served its purpose."
Max clenched his fists. His legs trembled, but he refused to fall.
"Then I won't let you leave," he said firmly.
"Not after what you've done."
For the first time, the masked leader sighed.
"You showed courage," he said.
"But courage does not change destiny."
He raised one hand.
The air shifted.
An invisible pressure gathered, pressing down on the ground itself. Cracks spread beneath Max's feet as the force expanded.
Then—
Everything burst outward.
Max was thrown back violently, crashing into a weakened wall. Stone broke apart on impact, dust filling the air as he collapsed onto the ground. His body went still.
Silence returned to the city.
Without looking back, the masked leader turned and walked away, fading into the ruined streets as if nothing had happened.
The City Awakens
Far beneath Yukanda, where no sunlight had reached for centuries, something began to move.
At first, it was barely noticeable—a faint tremor, like the city itself was breathing again. Small cracks appeared across the streets above, thin lines spreading slowly through stone and concrete.
Akuma felt it instantly.
He stopped walking.
The ruined air felt heavier. The silence that surrounded him shifted, as if the city was holding its breath.
"…That presence," Akuma murmured.
"It doesn't belong to this era."
The ground shook again—stronger this time.
Buildings groaned as their foundations weakened. Pieces of stone broke free and fell, echoing through the empty streets. The tremor spread outward, touching every corner of Yukanda.
Then—
The earth split open.
Streets tore apart as something massive forced its way upward. Stone shattered, dust rose like a storm, and a colossal figure emerged from below the city. Its form was enormous, shaped from hardened earth and darkened matter, as if Yukanda itself had given it a body.
Its eyes glowed deep red.
They were not the eyes of a beast.
They were the eyes of something aware.
The air grew cold. Even the ruins seemed to retreat, shadows stretching away from the creature as it lifted itself higher.
A deep roar echoed through the city.
Not of rage—
but of awakening.
Akuma watched silently.
His expression did not change.
Instead, a slow smile appeared on his face.
Not joy.
Not excitement.
But recognition.
"So this is what was sleeping beneath everything," he said quietly.
"A being shaped by loss."
The creature turned its massive head toward him.
Their eyes met.
Two existences born from collapse.
Akuma stepped forward.
"I was wondering when the city would answer," he continued.
"Walking through ruins gets boring."
The creature took a step toward him.
The ground cracked under its weight.
Akuma did not move back.
A faint glow appeared in his eyes, barely visible, but powerful enough to distort the air around him.
Above the city, far beyond sight, unseen forces began to stir.
Something ancient was watching.
And for the first time since Yukanda fell,
the city was no longer silent.
The Awakening of Ruin
The streets of Yukanda were littered with death. Smoke and ash hung in the air, and the scent of blood was almost tangible. Every step Akuma took echoed across the ruined city, a reminder that life here had ended long ago.
Yet, the city was not silent. Deep beneath the crumbled roads, beneath the broken buildings, something stirred. A pulse, low and ancient, vibrated through the ground. Akuma stopped mid-step, sensing it immediately.
"…This presence," he whispered. "It's older than anything I've faced."
From the cracks in the earth, the ground began to rise. Dust and debris spiraled into the sky as a massive creature emerged. Its body was formed of hardened soil, blackened stone, and blood-soaked shadows. Eyes glowing red, it roared—a sound that shook the very foundation of Yukanda.
Akuma's lips curved into a faint smile. Not joy. Not madness. Recognition.
"So you are the one," he muttered. "Born from the destruction we left behind."
The monster turned its gaze toward him, each movement cracking the pavement. It was massive—towering, monstrous, relentless. Yet Akuma did not flinch. His fists clenched, eyes glowing faintly red.
Above the city, the girl who had once protected Yukanda watched from behind her magical barrier. Her hands shook.
"He has awakened," she whispered to herself. "The one written in forbidden records… If he fully awakens, this world…" Her voice trembled. "…it won't survive."
Suddenly, a scream echoed behind her. She spun around, heart pounding. Shadows shifted unnaturally. For a moment, she felt utterly alone.
On the streets, the monster charged. Akuma ran toward it, the air thick with tension and raw power. The first collision sent shockwaves across the city, crumbling walls and shattering streets.
Stone, dust, and fire filled the air. Every strike Akuma threw carried the weight of grief, rage, and loss. The creature countered with claws that tore through steel and stone alike. Their battle reshaped the ruins, turning the city into a battlefield between two forces of chaos.
Akuma's memories flashed with every blow. Family. Fire. Masked enemies. The city that once thrived and now lay in ashes. Each memory fueled his strength.
The girl above whispered again, barely audible over the roar of the monster.
"He is unstoppable… if he doesn't pause, if no one interferes, nothing will survive Yukanda tonight."
A shadow moved behind her, unseen, ancient, waiting for its moment. She could feel it, cold and calculating, and yet she had no choice but to watch.
The battle raged on. Akuma's aura flared crimson with each strike. The monster's roar shook the skies. Buildings fell, streets split open, and fires ignited across the ruins. Blood and debris filled the air.
And still, Akuma did not hesitate.
"This ends now," he whispered. "No more running, no more waiting."
The monster charged again, and Akuma met it head-on. The shockwave from their clash was so immense that it shattered windows miles away. The city trembled as though screaming under their power.
Akuma's red-glowing eyes locked with the monster's, and in that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Two forces, shaped entirely by destruction, faced each other.
And above them, the girl's heart pounded. She had seen legends, prophecies, warnings—but nothing prepared her for this.
If this battle continued, the city—and perhaps the world—might not survive what was about to unfold.
The ruins of Yukanda were alive with chaos, with power beyond reckoning. And Akuma… Akuma was ready.
The monster roared, the ground splitting beneath it, and Akuma ran forward, fists blazing. The city had no hope left—but maybe, just maybe, he could reshape it with fire, blood, and the truth of his rage.
And so, the clash of legends began.