Time itself seemed to falter, standing in stark contrast to the chaos consuming the village. The relentless, mechanical voice kept repeating its cryptic phrases, echoing through the empty streets like a curse.
Then, suddenly, the voice cut off.
It was replaced by a different sound—a pulse of harsh, rhythmic bursts. It was a distorted wail, louder and far more unsettling than the siren before.
"What in the world..." Cesar muttered, creeping closer to the village center.
The streets were ghost-white and deserted. Most of the guards had rushed toward the border where the intruders had been spotted. The village, once vibrant, now felt like a tomb trapped between time and terror. Beneath the drone of the new alarm, a garbled, static-heavy voice whispered messages that no one could decipher.
Cesar moved quietly through the abandoned lanes, his eyes scanning the barricaded doorways.
"Hey! You there, boy!" a sharp voice hissed.
He froze.
An elderly woman peered from a third-floor window of a crumbling building. Her eyes locked onto Cesar—specifically the dark tuft of hair tinged with red.
"Didn't you hear the alarm?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Oh—uh, yes! I'm heading back now," Cesar lied, nodding quickly.
"Good lad," she replied, her face pale. "But don't shout... not now."
The window slammed shut with a bang that echoed like a gunshot in the silence. Cesar retraced his steps, but the stillness was seeping into his soul. Shadows moved where there should be none. He heard whispers, shuffles, the rustle of cloth—or perhaps claws.
Then, the silence was shattered by the sound of rapid, urgent footsteps.
Cesar spun around, his heart hammering against his ribs. Someone was running—fast. Before he could react, a figure burst around the corner and slammed into him.
"Ah—ouch!!" the boy cried, hitting the stone floor hard.
Cesar stumbled back, gasping. "Are you okay?"
The boy looked up, his eyes wide and predatory. Without warning, he reached into his coat. The cold glint of metal appeared—a blade, half-drawn.
"Wait! Stop! I'm not a guard!" Cesar yelped, raising his hands in surrender.
The boy's grip loosened slightly, but his fingers remained white-knuckled around the hilt. "What are you doing out here? Didn't you hear the alarm?"
"I... I don't live here," Cesar panted. "I was just passing through."
The boy stood slowly, dusting himself off while glancing nervously at the shadows. "You shouldn't be wandering through foreign villages," he muttered. "Not when the alarms are sounding."
Without another word, the boy bolted toward the north side of the village—toward the castle.
"Hey! Wait!" Cesar called out.
But the boy was already a blur in the distance. A quiet, insistent pull tugged at Cesar's chest. It wasn't just curiosity; it was a feeling that their fates were already entwined. He took a breath and ran after him.
At the Village Border...
"Yeah... looks like four of them," a guard murmured into a rune-etched device. His voice was thick with terror. "I... I can't even tell what they are."
The guards formed a wide semicircle, their spears shaking. A high-ranking General stepped forward, gripping the shoulder of a frightened soldier.
"What did you see?" the General demanded.
"We can't take them alone..." the soldier whispered, his eyes unblinking.
Across the field, the four strangers stood utterly still. They hadn't moved a muscle, yet the air around them felt like a storm waiting to erupt.
"Call for backup immediately!" a guard screamed.
Suddenly, the earth groaned.
A violent vortex of wind exploded upward—unnatural, deafening, and cruel. A cyclone tore through the guard formation. Men were lifted like rag dolls and hurled through the air. Bones shattered against trees; some were impaled upon broken branches like discarded toys.
From the eye of the storm, one of the four stepped forward. Their voice was calm, almost bored.
"Shigatsu... that wasn't necessary."
The one called Shigatsu said nothing, but the air around him continued to crackle with residual power.
"They called for backup," another voice added, sharper and more urgent. "If a Hero arrives, this gets complicated."
"You think the government cares that much?" Shigatsu replied coldly.
"If they send a real one... we aren't ready. Not yet."
Back at the edge of the carnage, a surviving guard shouted into his comms, his voice breaking with a desperate hope.
"General! The government responded! Nation 7's Hero has been dispatched! Arrival in two minutes!!"
A ripple of hope flickered through the battered line. But so did a deeper dread.
To the four monsters standing in the clearing, two minutes was an eternity. And within the village, Cesar was closing in on the mysterious boy, unaware that he was running straight into the maw of a god-tier conflict.