He kept the bike steady at eighty, the engine humming beneath him as the empty road stretched into the dark.
A violet screen flickered into existence before his eyes.
"Don't go at such high speed."
He smirked. "Let me enjoy it, Goddess. It's been a long time since I rode this fast."
"I already told you not to call me that."
"Well, I'm only stating facts, Isekai Goddess."
"Stop it."
The road remained silent, wind cutting past his ears, the night oddly still.
Then—
Something slammed into his head.
The impact came out of nowhere, brutal and sudden. His vision exploded into sparks as the bike wobbled violently beneath him. He lost control. Metal screamed against asphalt. The motorcycle skidded forward while his body hit the ground and rolled.
For a moment, there was only ringing in his ears.
He forced himself up, one hand pressed to his head. Warm blood slid between his fingers.
"Ahh… what the hell was that?"
His voice trembled despite his effort to steady it.
"Raktbeej, can you assess the bleeding?"
"Already doing so. The injury is deep. Regeneration will require time."
"Amitesh… are you alright?" Astraea's voice carried an edge of real concern.
"Yeah. I just… don't understand what happened."
A low sound echoed across the empty road.
"Reehehehe."
It was neither a bark nor a roar, but something twisted between the two.
Amitesh's gaze lifted.
The creature stood a few meters away. Its body resembled a wolf, large and muscular, yet distorted in unnatural proportions. Six eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, blinking out of sync. Its teeth jutted from its mouth as if they had grown too many, too long, unable to be contained by flesh.
Saliva dripped from its jaw, sizzling slightly as it hit the road.
"What are you doing? Run, human, if you don't wish to be eaten."
Only after Raktbeej's warning did Amitesh's mind snap back into focus.
He staggered to his feet and turned to run.
Too late,the creature lunged.
Its jaws clamped onto his shoulder with crushing force. Fangs pierced through fabric and flesh, sinking deep. Pain exploded through his body like fire ripping through bone.
"Ahhhh!"
His scream tore across the silent road.
He tried to push it away, tried to move, but another impact struck his forehead. A stone hit him with precise force, snapping his head sideways.
His vision blurred.
As he spun and collapsed to one knee, his fading sight caught a final image.
A small figure sat atop the six-eyed beast.
A mushroom-head, smiling face staring directly at him.
As his eyes closed, the world sank into silence.
Then they opened again.
Pure white.No pupils. No humanity.
A slow, unnatural smile stretched across his face.
His hands rose calmly and gripped the creature's jaws. Fingers dug into coarse flesh, veins tightening beneath his skin. With a sharp motion, he forced the mouth open wider—far wider than it should have gone.
Bones creaked.
The beast released his shoulder with a snarl.
He flung it away as if it weighed nothing. The creature crashed several feet down the road, rolled violently, then pushed itself back up. Its six eyes burned brighter, and its roar split the night louder than before.
"Ahh… could you stop that dog from making noise, brother? These human ears are rather sensitive."
Raktbeej's voice was steady, almost irritated. He wasn't speaking to the beast.
He was speaking to the mushroom-headed figure seated atop it.
The wide grin on the creature's round face vanished instantly. Its expression hardened, as though something deeply wrong had just revealed itself.
Raktbeej stepped forward.
"I did not expect you to control two organisms simultaneously. It seems I underestimated my own species."
The mushroom-headed entity finally spoke, its tone sharp.
"Who are you? You do not look like us."
"Oh? So you can talk. That is refreshing. It has been a long time since I conversed with my own kind."
"Answer my question. What are you? I do not recall anyone evolving in such a manner. Have you forgotten? Our kind does not coexist. We are made for control. Yet what I see now is an eater who cannot even dominate a human—the physically weakest organism on this planet."
The words struck with clinical precision.
Raktbeej did not deny them.
Humans possessed no fangs, no claws, no armored skin. In raw physical metrics, they were inferior to countless species.
Yet they ruled the planet.
Not through strength.
Through something far more dangerous.
"You could say this human is… difficult," Raktbeej replied evenly. "I have attempted many times, but his body resists me."
"You disgrace our species. I, a member of the Eaters, will eliminate you and erase this humiliation."
The six-eyed beast lowered its stance.
Its jaws opened unnaturally wide as it lunged forward.
Raktbeej smiled.He raised his hand.
Flames erupted from his palm, roaring outward in a violent surge. Fire swallowed the mutant wolf whole, its fur igniting instantly, flesh blackening as the heat consumed it.
Yet it did not stop.
Even as its body burned, it continued charging forward, eyes blazing, teeth exposed, showing no sign of retreat.
The burning beast did not slow.
It crashed through the wall of fire like a demon reborn, charred flesh splitting, molten saliva dripping from its jaws.
Raktbeej did not retreat.
He stepped forward.Then he leapt.
His body rose above the charging monster and came down hard on its spine. The impact cracked asphalt beneath the creature's paws. Its six eyes rolled upward as it snarled and twisted violently, trying to throw him off.
Raktbeej dug his fingers into scorched fur and held firm.
From this height, he saw it clearly.
A translucent bio-tube extended from the mushroom-headed entity's back. It pulsed rhythmically, thick and veined, burrowing into the mutant dog's spine. With every pulse, the creature's muscles tightened unnaturally, movements sharpened beyond instinct.
"Oh," Raktbeej murmured. "So this is how you control him. Interesting."
The mushroom-headed being's expression contorted.
"Do not touch that."
"Let me ease your burden."
Raktbeej's hand shot backward and wrapped around the tube.
It was warm. Alive. Pulsating like a second heart.
The beast reacted instantly.
It bucked upward, twisting mid-charge and slamming its body sideways into a wrecked car at the roadside. Metal crumpled. Glass exploded outward.
Raktbeej's grip did not loosen.
The tube throbbed violently beneath his fingers, sending shockwaves through both host and controller. The mushroom-headed entity shrieked, its voice no longer composed but fractured.
"You dare—!"
The mutant dog leapt straight up and rolled midair, attempting to crush him beneath its own burning mass.
Raktbeej tightened his hold.
Flames erupted again, this time concentrated along his arm, crawling toward the bio-tube like predatory serpents.
The tube began to blister.
The beast landed hard, jaws snapping backward toward him, teeth inches from his face. Heat and decay filled the air.
Raktbeej smiled wider.
"Control requires connection," he said calmly. "And connection can be severed."
With a violent pull, he yanked the tube halfway free.
Dark fluid sprayed into the air.
The mushroom-headed entity screamed—a high, distorted frequency that cracked the remaining streetlights along the road.
The mutant dog staggered mid-step.
For the first time—
Its movements faltered.
The mutant dog lost its balance.
Its legs buckled beneath its own weight, and the massive body crashed onto the asphalt with a thunderous impact. The six glowing eyes flickered erratically as the severed tube spasmed against its spine.
Raktbeej stepped forward without hesitation.
He seized the mushroom-headed entity by the crown of its round skull and lifted it effortlessly into the air. The bio-tube dangled, leaking dark fluid that hissed against the ground.
"Well," he said, tilting his head slightly, "you struggled quite a bit. I imagine you must taste good."
The mushroom-headed being trembled violently.
"W–What do you mean? Don't tell me… you have already initiated the Ranking? It is not the designated time. You are violating the Protocol."
Raktbeej laughed.
It was not loud, but it carried something ancient within it.
"Rules?" he repeated. "Who truly cares about timing? It will occur soon regardless. A little early makes no difference."
"No… you cannot. It is—"
The sentence never finished.
A sudden flash erupted from Raktbeej's palm.
Flames engulfed the mushroom-headed being in an instant. Its surface blackened and cracked, spores igniting midair like dying embers. The smell of burning organic matter filled the night.
With a sharp motion, Raktbeej tore it free from the tube's remains.
The creature tried to resist, its body hardening as if attempting to calcify and avoid destruction. It twisted, desperate not to burn completely.
Raktbeej did not grant it the chance.
He brought it to his mouth.
And bit.
The crunch was disturbingly crisp.
He chewed slowly, flames dimming as the last remnants of resistance faded within his grasp. The mutant dog beneath him shuddered once, then collapsed entirely, its six eyes going dark as the control link died.
"Hm."
Raktbeej swallowed.
"I must admit," he said calmly, wiping a trace of ash from his lip, "you were quite flavorful. Even for a lower-ranked Eater."
The road fell silent again.
Only the faint sound of cooling metal and distant wind remained.
But it wasn't over.
The mutant dog's body twitched.
Then it rose again.
Slowly.
Its burned flesh hung in strips. Patches of muscle were exposed, glowing faintly beneath the char. The six eyes were gone—melted into dark sockets—but something else moved inside them now.
No signal, controller,and restraint.
It was no longer being guided.
It was hunting.
Raktbeej's smile faded slightly.
"A feral state," he muttered. "Interesting."
The creature lowered its head and released a guttural roar, deeper and more chaotic than before. Without the bio-tube's precision, its movements were less refined—but far more savage.
It charged.
The asphalt shattered under its paws.
Raktbeej sidestepped effortlessly. The beast tore past him, unable to adjust its trajectory in time. It skidded, claws carving trenches into the road, then twisted its body unnaturally and lunged again without pause.
This time its jaws snapped where his neck had been a fraction of a second earlier.
Raktbeej pivoted, letting the teeth slice through the air. He drove his knee into its ribs.
A crack echoed.
The beast did not slow.
It spun mid-impact and slammed its tail into his side. The force sent him sliding backward across the asphalt, shoes grinding against broken glass.
"So even without control, the body retains combat memory," he observed calmly.
The mutant dog charged again, this time zigzagging unpredictably. It wasn't thinking. It was reacting to instinct and pain alone.
Raktbeej waited.
At the last possible instant, he stepped forward instead of back.
The beast's jaws closed around his forearm.
Flesh tore.
Blood spilled.
For a heartbeat, the creature believed it had won.
Then flames erupted from inside its mouth.
Fire exploded outward through its throat and skull, bursting from its eye sockets in violent pillars. The beast howled, but it did not release him.
It bit down harder.
Raktbeej's white eyes gleamed.
"You truly are more dangerous without a master."
He thrust his free hand into the creature's chest.
His fingers pierced through burnt muscle and cracked bone. He grabbed something deep within—something still beating in chaotic rhythm.
The mutant dog clawed at him wildly, shredding fabric and skin, but Raktbeej did not move.
"Unfortunately," he said softly, tightening his grip, "wild beasts burn faster."
He clenched his fist.
The heart ruptured.
Flames detonated from inside the creature's body, consuming it from core to surface. This time the fire did not merely burn flesh—it devoured it.
The beast staggered.
One step.
Two.
Then it collapsed mid-roar, its body crumbling into blackened fragments that scattered across the road like dying embers.
Silence returned once more.
Raktbeej stood still, smoke rising from his wounds as they slowly began to close.
The white in his eyes flickered faintly.
And for a brief moment—
Something deeper stirred behind them.
He moved forward slowly, both hands slipping into his pockets as though nothing significant had occurred.
"The human will remain unconscious for some time," he murmured. "The cranial impact was severe. That is convenient. I can enjoy myself without interference."
He reached the fallen motorcycle, lifted it upright with one hand, and examined it briefly before swinging a leg over.
The engine roared back to life.
"Well," he said with faint amusement, "this vehicle is impressive. The sound, the mechanical balance, the traction control… humans compensate for physical weakness with ingenuity. Fascinating."
The purple screen manifested again.
This time the voice carried no warmth.
"Do not indulge yourself. Return control to him."
Raktbeej laughed under his breath.
"Astraea, why such attachment? This human is not exceptional. His resistance is inconvenient, nothing more."
He twisted the throttle.
And then—
Reality shifted.
In less than a second, the road vanished.
The motorcycle dissolved beneath him.
He found himself inside his domain.
A vast crimson expanse of pulsating organic terrain stretched infinitely in all directions. Veins of molten light coursed beneath the surface like living circuitry.
Then the ground cracked.
Thin fractures splintered across the sky as if it were glass.
"What…?"
He tried to stand.
His body did not respond.
He attempted to speak.
No sound formed.
For the first time, something akin to confusion entered his mind.
'What is happening?'
The cracking intensified. The entire domain trembled violently, fissures spreading through the firmament.
A voice echoed.
But it did not belong to him.
"You have overstepped."
The tone was absolute. Not loud—yet it filled every layer of existence within the domain.
Thousands of swords materialized in the sky.
They were not uniform. Some were ancient and rusted. Others gleamed with divine light. Curved blades, straight blades, ceremonial weapons, executioner's greatswords—each suspended point downward, radiating oppressive pressure.
Raktbeej tried again to move.
Nothing.
His domain no longer obeyed him.
"You truly stepped beyond your boundary this time."
The voice reverberated again, colder than void.
"Accept your punishment."
The first sword fell.
It pierced through his shoulder and pinned him to the ground.
He felt pain.Not physical.
Existential.
The second sword followed, impaling his thigh.
Then the third.
And the fourth.
They rained down one after another, each strike fracturing fragments of his domain. Every impact sent shockwaves through the crimson landscape, destabilizing his control further.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to protest.
But even that privilege had been revoked.
Blade after blade descended, nailing him into his own collapsing world.
The sky shattered entirely.
And as the last sword drove through his chest—
Darkness swallowed everything.
The thousandth sword finished its descent.
For a moment, there was no more movement.
Raktbeej remained pinned to the fractured surface of his collapsing domain, blades piercing through limbs, torso, throat, and skull. Crimson light leaked from every wound, spreading like cracks across a dying sun.
Then the voice returned.
Cold. Absolute. Unquestionable.
"Remember this."
The pressure in the air intensified, forcing his head downward though he was already impaled.
"You will not call me by my name."
Another sword twisted slightly inside his chest, sending a wave of agony through his existence.
"You will not speak to me directly unless permitted."
A blade embedded in his spine pulsed with white light.
"You will not disobey any of my orders."
The sky above him glowed with divine fracture lines.
"Do you understand?"
He tried to resist.
Instinct demanded it. Pride demanded it.
But something deeper—something bound by law older than both of them—forced submission.
"Yes… yes, I understand, Goddess Astera—"
The domain convulsed.
Every sword vibrated at once.
"Saying my name again?"
The single sentence carried more terror than the thousand blades.
The swords plunged deeper.
The pain was indescribable—not of flesh, but of essence. Each weapon did not merely pierce him; it rewrote him. It carved obedience into his core.
"Forgive me… Goddess."
Silence followed.
The pressure lessened slightly.
But the memory remained.
Even though this was his mental domain, even though this was a constructed plane of consciousness, the pain was real. Far more real than physical suffering. Every stab lingered, etched permanently into his awareness.
He remembered every single strike.
Every fracture.
Every moment of helplessness.
The swords dissolved one by one into particles of light, leaving him suspended in the void of his cracked domain.
And somewhere in the silence—
He understood.
He was powerful.
But he was not free.
---
When Amitesh opened his eyes, the sky was already painted in deep orange and fading violet.
"Evening?"
He was leaning against his motorcycle.
He blinked several times, trying to steady his vision. The road was empty. The wind was calm. No fire. No beast. No shattered asphalt.
"Huh… when did it become dark?" he muttered. "And where did that thing go?"
He forced himself to remember.
Impact.Pain.
Teeth in his shoulder.
After that—
Nothing.
He pushed himself upright and looked down at his clothes.
They were soaked in dried blood.
But his skin beneath them was flawless.
No wounds, no scars.
He frowned.
"Hey, Raktbeej. Are you there?"
"Yes. I am here. Everything is stable."
Amitesh exhaled slightly. "What actually happened? Where's that creature? And that… mushroom head thing?"
A faint pause.
"I eliminated them. And for the final time, refrain from calling my kind 'mushroom head.' We are Eaters."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Amitesh replied dismissively. "But how did you handle them?"
"That information is unnecessary for you."
Amitesh narrowed his eyes. "Seriously? Just tell me you didn't do anything foolish."
A brief silence followed.
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Amitesh stared ahead for a moment, unconvinced, but let it go. He swung his leg over the motorcycle and turned the key.
The engine roared to life.
The sound echoed down the empty road, sharp and mechanical against the quiet evening air.
He twisted the throttle and began riding forward.
For a few seconds, everything felt normal.
Then—
A faint rustling.
Shadows moved along the roadside.
Amitesh glanced into his rearview mirror.
Figures emerged from the darkness.
Dozens of them.
Their silhouettes multiplied rapidly as they poured from alleys and abandoned buildings, silent at first—then accelerating.
"They're back," Amitesh muttered.
"Yes," Raktbeej replied calmly. "It appears your engine noise has attracted attention."
Behind him, the Eaters began chasing.
Their movements were unnatural—jerking, elastic, almost glitching between steps. Some leapt across rooftops. Others sprinted on all fours. Their numbers kept increasing.
"How many are there?"
"More than before."
"That's not helpful!"
One of the Eaters leapt high into the air, landing on the road barely meters behind him. Another climbed a streetlight and launched forward.
Amitesh twisted the throttle harder.
The bike surged ahead, wind slamming into his face as the speed climbed.
Behind him—
The hunt had begun.
He pushed the bike faster.
The engine roared beneath him, vibrations running through his arms as the speedometer climbed. The wind burned against his face, and the road ahead blurred into streaks of gray.
Behind him, the Eaters multiplied.
They flooded the streets like a living infestation. Some leapt across rooftops, others sprinted unnaturally along walls, their round silhouettes jerking in fractured motions.
"Raktbeej, any suggestions?" Amitesh shouted over the engine's roar.
"Maintain velocity. Their coordination weakens in extended pursuit."
"That's your plan? Just run?"
"For now."
Another Eater dropped from a building ahead, forcing Amitesh to swerve violently. The bike tilted at a dangerous angle, tires screeching against asphalt before stabilizing again.
His heart pounded.
Then—
Something caught his eye.
Far ahead, past a broken overpass and through the rising dust—
A flash , sharp and white.
Then dark again.
He squinted.
There.
Another burst.
Three short pulses.
Three long.
Three short.
"…That's not random," he murmured.
The light blinked again.
An SOS signal.
In the middle of a city overrun by Eaters.
"Raktbeej… do you see that?"
"Yes."
"Is it a trap?"
"Possibly."
Another wave of Eaters poured onto the road behind him.
Amitesh's jaw tightened.
"…Or someone's alive."
The light flashed again.
Steady.
Desperate.
He gripped the handle tighter.
Behind him, the hunt closed in.
Ahead—
A call for help in the darkness.