The rain kept falling.
Heavy. Endless.
Striking concrete, metal, skin.
My hands shook uncontrollably as I held him. Not from fear—from something deeper.
The sword in my hand hummed faintly.
Not loud.
Not demanding.
Just… present.
Like it was listening.
The world sounded distant, muffled, as if cotton had been stuffed into my ears. Hospital alarms wailed somewhere below. Doors slammed. Voices shouted.
None of it felt real.
I tried to take a step.
My legs folded.
Pain caught up all at once.
White-hot. Merciless.
Blood pooled beneath me, spreading across the rooftop like a second shadow. Warm at first. Then cold. My limbs felt distant—like they belonged to someone else.
She stood a few steps away, watching me bleed out like it was mildly entertaining.
"…Wow," she said lightly. "You're still alive."
Reality hadn't paused for me.
I tried to breathe.
Renya was still alive.
My chest burned.
That was the only thing that mattered.
"Oh shit…" my voice came out broken. "No… not now…"
But my body—
My body felt wrong.
Too light.
Too heavy.
My vision dimmed.
Like I was only half inside it.
Darkness crept in from the edges, slow and patient.
I collapsed onto the ground.
My heartbeat refused to settle. It stuttered, sped up, slowed down again—like it couldn't decide whether I was alive or not.
"No… move," I whispered. "Move."
Jacklin exhaled softly.
"…Bravo," she said, almost impressed. "So this is it?"
She nudged my shoulder with her foot.
Nothing.
Her lips curved into something mocking.
"Guess miracles have limits."
She looked down at me like I was already a corpse.
"…All that noise," she muttered. "And you still ended up like this."
My body didn't respond.
My vision darkened further.
Oh shit.
I'm going to pass out.
I collapsed fully, Renya still clutched to my chest. My head struck the concrete, but I barely felt it.
Her gaze flicked between me and Renya.
"So that's it?" she murmured. "That was your miracle?"
She tilted her head, assessing.
"…Shame. You're done."
Renya stared at me.
His small body trembled.
"Kai…en…"
"Kaien… wake up…"
Her thoughts were almost visible now.
Everyone else was finished.
Only cleanup remained.
Her eyes settled on Renya.
"…We'll dispose of the child next."
Renya cried.
Not loud.
Not screaming.
Just small, broken sounds.
"Kaien…"
That voice—
That sound—
It stabbed deeper than any blade.
My heart slammed violently in my chest.
Again.
Again.
Too fast.
Too hard.
My heartbeat raced like it was trying to outrun death itself.
The world flickered.
Reality stuttered.
The rain froze for half a second—
Then resumed.
Something felt wrong.
For a moment, everything felt thin—like a sheet of glass stretched too far.
Jacklin stepped forward.
Then—
She stopped.
Her brow furrowed.
"…What?"
Renya wasn't in her arms anymore.
And neither was I on the ground.
For half a second, it felt like the world had skipped a frame.
Rain still falling.
Bodies still there.
But we weren't.
Jacklin stepped back slowly, eyes scanning the rooftop.
"…Did someone intervene?"
She turned.
And froze.
I stood behind her.
Renya clutched tight against my chest.
But something about me had changed.
Her gaze locked onto my face.
"…No," she whispered.
Her breath hitched.
"That's not—"
I didn't understand what she was staring at.
My body convulsed violently.
"I… I don't know what's happening," I whispered, voice shaking.
"But… I have to save him."
Jacklin didn't answer.
She was staring at my eyes.
Her fingers tightened around her blade.
"…Your eyes," she said slowly.
"They were black."
My vision burned.
Heat flooded my skull—sharp, invasive—like something had been forced open from the inside.
The rain seemed to hesitate.
The glass wall beside us reflected a distorted image.
And I saw it.
My eyes were no longer black.
They were red.
Not bloodshot.
Not injured.
Red.
Glowing faintly, like embers beneath glass.
Shining.
Wrong.
Jacklin swallowed hard.
"…So it's true," she murmured.
"You awakened."
A chill ran through me.
I didn't feel powerful.
I felt exposed.
Like something inside me had been dragged into the open.
The sword was in my hand.
I didn't remember picking it up.
It hummed softly.
Warm.
Alive.
Its pulse shifted—not a heartbeat anymore.
A resonance.
Like it was tuning itself to the same fracture in the world that I was standing inside.
For the first time—
Jacklin hesitated.
Then she lunged.
I didn't think.
I didn't plan.
The world folded.
Not speed.
Not motion.
Just absence.
I reappeared.
The blade screamed.
Her body was thrown sideways as steel carved through her torso—not killing, not clean.
Enough.
Jacklin crashed hard, unconscious.
Shadows surged from all directions.
More assassins.
Too many.
I moved again.
And again.
Each jump tore something out of me.
My head screamed.
My stomach twisted.
Blood poured from my wounds faster than I could feel it.
I misjudged distance.
Staggered.
Almost dropped Renya.
No—no—no—
I forced myself to keep going.
Every teleport felt unstable.
Like I was tearing myself through space instead of passing through it.
My strength drained frighteningly fast.
I was standing only because I refused to fall.
They noticed.
The assassins closed in.
This was it.
I couldn't keep this up.
My knees buckled.
Then—
The air shifted.
"Oh my god…"
A new voice cut through the chaos.
"I made it in time."
Pressure slammed down—absolute.
She didn't look at me first.
Her eyes were on Jacklin.
"…I knew it," she said quietly.
Then she turned to me.
"…Wow," she said dryly.
"You really picked a good girlfriend."
A knife snapped through the rain—fast, precise—aimed straight for her throat.
She didn't flinch.
She stepped half a pace aside.
That was all.
The blade buried itself into the concrete behind her.
She didn't even look at it.
She stepped forward.
The air bent.
Pressure rolled outward, heavy and suffocating—like the world itself had inhaled and forgotten to breathe out.
Her scarlet hair clung to her face as she unsheathed her blade—not to threaten.
To warn.
Jacklin, barely conscious, forced her eyes open.
Saw her.
Understood.
And vanished.
Escaped.
The scarlet-haired girl moved.
Once.
Twice.
Assassins fell.
Clean.
Final.
The rest fled on instinct alone.
"Rule one," she said calmly, eyes never leaving me.
"Never trust the one standing closest to you."
Her grip tightened.
"Especially," she added,
"when she smiles while holding a blade."
The rooftop fell silent.
She turned to me.
Her gaze moved to Renya.
Then to my wounds.
Then to the sword.
"…You're in bad shape," she said quietly.
My knees gave out.
She caught me before I hit the ground.
As darkness closed in, I saw her raise a hand toward a fallen assassin.
Fog-like strands peeled from the body—thin, curling.
They flowed into her palm.
She absorbed them.
I didn't understand.
I didn't have the strength to ask.
My eyes burned.
My body went cold.
The last thing I felt—
Renya still breathing.
Then—
Nothing.
✦ END OF CHAPTER 5 — WHAT IT TOOK FROM ME ✦