The room was quiet, the pale moonlight casting long shadows across the floor. Outside, the wind rustled faintly through the trees. But inside, Astra trembled.
Her body was drenched in sweat, fingers clenched tightly around the blanket as her breath came in short, shaky bursts. It was the nightmare again—that same one. The fire. The heat. The silence before the screaming.
She couldn't move.
The blanket felt too heavy. Her chest was tight. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped.
Then it began—again.
The whispers.
Faint, like breath brushing against her ear.
"Astra…"
"Give it back…"
"Come with us…"
"It should have been us…"
"Help…"
"They're all gone… they left you alone to die…"
"You should've burned too…"
Astra's breath hitched. Sweat trickled down her temples, soaking her pillow. The air around her thickened, filled with the hollow wails and distant laughter of restless spirits so close they felt like they were inside her skin. Her body refused to move, her muscles locked in terror. Her lips parted, trembling, but no sound came.
She was frozen. And just when she couldn't bear it anymore—
A warmth.
Two firm hands grasped hers, grounding her. A voice followed, soft and steady, weaving through the chaos like a single thread of moonlight through storm clouds.
"I'm here… I didn't go anywhere. It's just a dream. Not real. Fire won't burn you."
That voice gentle, unshaken cut through the screams and whispers.
Astra's chest rose in a fuller breath. Her heartbeat, wild and erratic, began to calm. Slowly, her body loosened, the pressure lifting like smoke dissolving in wind.
Then she drifted off, the fear loosening its grip, sinking into the quiet comfort of the presence beside her.
She just lay there still, silent while the hands continued to hold hers… steady, tapping gently, again and again.
Seeing her breathing soften into sleep, Ryoma finally sighed in relief.
He adjusted the blanket carefully and brushed the loose strands of hair from her face, now calm and free of strain, rested peacefully beneath the pale moonlight spilling through the window.
He lingered there, his gaze fixed on her expression so fragile, yet strong beneath the surface.
Still holding her hand, he leaned in slightly and whispered,
"It'll be over soon… they won't bother you again."
Ryoma sat by the bed for a moment more, watching her sleep, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. But just as he was about to rise, he felt a sudden tug Astra's hand still gripped his.
His eyes widened in surprise, glancing down quickly.
She was still asleep, her brow smooth now, But her fingers clung to his like she feared something would return the moment she let go.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he carefully pried her fingers free, placing her hand gently back on the blanket.
He stood… only to falter.
A wave of dizziness crashed over him, sharp and sudden. His vision blurred and his knees nearly buckled. Clutching his head, he staggered back a step, his breath catching as a searing headache exploded behind his eyes.
And then came the voices.
Faint at first… rising in volume.
Cries. Whispers. Screams. Hailing sounds like wails twisting around him.
He clenched his teeth, steadied himself against the wall, and forced his legs to move. Silently, he slipped from the room, careful not to make a sound.
Out in the open, beneath the cold night air, he collapsed onto a bench, hand over his mouth, shoulders heaving with shallow breaths.
For a long moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, he leaned his head back, eyes narrowed at the sky.
"…Just what is happening in there…"
——————
Meanwhile, in the palace, the grand hall flickered with the dim light of enchanted lanterns as the Emperor paced restlessly across the floor. His steps echoed, sharp and tense, while ministers and generals stood lined along the walls, whispering in hushed tones.
"Why did His Majesty call a meeting at this hour…?"
"And so suddenly… in the middle of the night?"
"Something must be wrong."
"Quiet!"
The sharp command snapped the murmurs to silence.
At the center of the hall, on an elevated platform, the royal Seer stood before a glowing projection a swirling mass of energy suspended in the air. He stared into it, his hands trembling at his sides. A bead of cold sweat trickled down his temple.
The Emperor's voice boomed. "What's wrong?! Speak!"
The Seer gulped, clearly rattled. He bowed low, his voice unsteady.
"Y-Your Majesty… there's a problem. A very big one. Something extremely powerful has crossed the barrier."
The Emperor's expression darkened. "Its strength?"
The Seer hesitated. "It's… assumed to be above Tier 7."
A gasp rippled across the hall.
"What?!"
"A demon above Tier 7?!"
"H-How did it escape?!"
"Has the barrier cracked more? Or has it weakened?!"
"We barely have rankers who can stand against Tier 6! Above that… can we even survive?!"
"Enough!" the Emperor thundered, his voice crashing over the panic like a storm.
"Don't jump to conclusions! Seer, speak clearly! How did this happen so suddenly?!"
The Seer's voice quivered as he answered, eyes still locked onto the pulsing projection above. "N-No… the barrier didn't break, Your Majesty. The demon… it crossed through the same old cracks."
The hall tensed.
"But how?" the Seer continued, shaking his head. "That part… isn't clear yet. It shouldn't have been possible for something of that tier to pass through…"
The Emperor's eyes blazed with fury. He stepped forward, his voice thunderous.
"Then explain how it did!"
The air itself seemed to shudder with the weight of his voice.
"That barrier was reinforced to block any demon above Tier 5 especially something of Tier 7 and beyond! It was designed to target power!"
The Emperor turned, addressing the room now, voice sharp with anger. "And if we don't find how this happened… if we don't understand how that creature bypassed what should've held it back then this won't be the only one! And next time, we may not be lucky enough to sense it in time. It won't just be a powerful demon….it'll be war!"
A general stepped forward, his armor clinking faintly in the tense silence. He bowed low.
"Your Majesty… what should be done now? Your orders, please."
The Emperor stood still for a moment, the fury in his eyes simmering down as he took a deep breath and composed himself. His voice came firm, controlled, but sharp as steel.
"Find it. At any cost, before it spreads chaos."
He glanced across the gathered officials and guards, his gaze heavy.
"And don't let this information reach the citizens. If word gets out during the celebrations, it will turn into panic. We can't afford that."
The ministers exchanged uneasy glances.
"Keep it quiet. Search every corner of the empire. I don't care how long it takes….find that demon."
He raised his hand slightly, and the guards straightened. "And tighten the security at every entrance to the capital. Not a rat should pass without being seen."
A long pause.
"Now disperse."
At once, the room stirred into action armor clinking, orders murmured, boots thudding across the floor as the Emperor turned back toward the looming projection, his jaw set in grim silence.
Meanwhile the two friends sat at the edge of the palace roof, where the lantern light from the halls below flickered faintly against the night sky. The capital lay stretched before them, silent under the weight of something unknown.
Daita rested his chin on his palm. "Why did uncle announce the meeting bell at night? Has something happened?"
"Maybe… it's something important," Akira said, brushing it off. "But let's keep that aside for now."
He leaned slightly toward Daita. "Don't you remember? You have something to give me back. And tell me something— I've been waiting for a while."
Daita raised an eyebrow, then sighed, reaching into his sleeve. He pulled out the familiar hairpin and held it between two fingers.
Akira's expression softened it and gave a widen smile. but Daita caught the change and narrowed his gaze.
"Alright, Akira," he said, turning slightly toward him. "Can you at least tell me why you wanted to find its owner so badly? And—no tricks—I won't give it back unless you tell me."
Akira tilted his head, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You really want to know?"
"Yes," Daita said flatly.
There was a beat of silence and then, with the speed of a light, Akira snatched the pin right out of Daita's hand.
"Hey—!" Daita blinked, looking at his now empty hand. "You—!"
Akira only grinned, tucking the hairpin safely into his robes. "You said you wouldn't give it back unless I told you," he said, swinging his legs off the edge casually. "But you didn't say anything about me taking it myself."
Daita scoffed, crossing his arms. The prince chuckled softly, "So… you're really not going to tell me anything?"
Daita let out a tired sigh, leaning back on his palms and staring up at the nearly empty moon hanging low in the night sky. "This mission was a headache, honestly. I've met the most unpredictable people ever… other than you." He gave Akira a side glance. "Everyone's weird in their own way. Especially those two girls. Ahh—I don't even want to talk about the trouble again."
Akira tilted his head slightly, listening with curious interest. "Ohh?"
"And the owner of this—" Daita pointed at the hairpin, "—is none other than the finance minister's daughter."