was engulfed in flames—its wooden frame collapsed in on itself, black smoke rising into the evening sky.
Leo stopped in his tracks, frozen.
No… not her too.
The image of Lyra's bright smile—her laughter, her stubbornness, her warmth—flashed in his mind like a cruel memory.
His fists clenched.
But then—
Thump.
A faint sound.
Rustle.
Wood shifting. A weak noise from within the ruins.
Leo's eyes snapped open. His instincts kicked in.
He ran.
"Wait—was that…?" he whispered, heart racing.
Then he saw it—a small hand, reaching from beneath the burning rubble.
His eyes widened.
"Lyra!?"
Without hesitation, Leo sprinted toward the collapsed home, leaping over broken beams and smoldering ash. He dropped to his knees and began lifting charred debris, throwing it aside with newfound strength.
And then he saw her—Lyra, bruised, covered in ash, but alive.
"Leo…" she whispered, a weak smile on her lips. "You came…"
Without thinking, Leo pulled her into his arms, holding her close. The moment her small frame collapsed against his chest, she began to cry. Her tiny fists clutched his shirt as tears streamed down her soot-covered cheeks.
"They… they killed my dad… and took my mom away… I couldn't do anything…" she sobbed.
Leo's breath hitched. His heart felt like it was being crushed all over again. But he couldn't cry anymore. Not now.
He slowly pulled back, brushing the hair from her face. His voice was calm, but something in it had changed—colder, sharper.
"Lyra," he said, "do you want revenge?"
She stared at the ground, her body shaking… then she looked up at him.
Her eyes widened.
For a moment, she was silent—frightened.
Leo's eyes were glowing—a deep, haunting purple, like void and flame swirled together. A darkness filled with wrath… but also pain.
"I…" she hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"Yes."
"But…" she added, her voice shaking, "we're weak…"
Leo stood up slowly. He looked down at her, offering his hand—not just in gesture, but in promise.
"I have a plan," he said softly. "And it starts with a witch."
"Will you come with me?"
Lyra stared at his hand for a long second. The hand of her only friend, the only one left in this ruined world. Her fingers trembled…
Then she placed her hand in his.
And for the first time since everything was taken from them—
They walked forward.
Together.
The sky was dark, cloaked in midnight shadows. A silver moon peeked through a thick veil of clouds, casting pale light across the dense jungle. The sound of rustling leaves and distant howls filled the air, eerie and endless.
Leo and Lyra walked side by side, their steps slow and heavy, brushing past branches and roots underfoot. Lyra clung to Leo's arm tightly, her head resting lightly against him, her small frame shivering—not from cold, but from the fear she tried to hide.
"Leo…" she whispered. "Are you sure… the witch is good?"
Leo's eyes didn't leave the path. Focused. Unshaken. His voice was calm, but carried a steel-like determination.
"Yeah," he said, low but certain. "Trust me. I don't care if it's a witch, demon, or god… I'll make them help us. And no matter who or what comes—" he turned to glance at her, "I'll protect you."
Lyra looked up at him, her eyes softening. A faint, warm smile curved her lips.
"Then no matter where you go," she replied, "I'm coming with you."
They didn't need to say more.
After what felt like hours of walking through tangled undergrowth, they finally heard the sound of flowing water. The two of them picked up pace, rushing toward it.
Ahead, a river sparkled under the moonlight. The gentle current washed over smooth stones, cool and pure.
Without hesitation, Leo knelt and took a drink first. He waited a moment, then looked back at Lyra with a small nod.
"It's clean. You can drink it."
Lyra dropped to her knees beside him and cupped her hands, drinking with relief. The cold water soothed her dry throat, and for a brief moment, it felt like peace.
But that moment didn't last long.
Snap.
A loud crack of a branch echoed from the trees nearby.
Then—
Grrrrrrr…
A low growl slithered through the silence.
Leo's body tensed instantly and slowly stood up, placing himself in front of Lyra.
From the darkness of the jungle, red eyes began to appear—one by one. Dozens of them.
Shadows moved. Teeth glinted. Claws scraped.
Lyra stood up quickly, heart pounding. "Leo… those are—"
"Monsters," he finished, voice sharp. "They're surrounding us."
The jungle came alive with snarls and footsteps.
Leo's eyes narrowed, the purple glow flickering like a cursed fire.
"Stay behind me," he muttered.
As the first monster lunged from the shadows—
Leo moved.
Leo's eyes scanned the dark jungle.
He reached out with his mind—not to cast a spell, but to sense.
Aura detection.
It wasn't a formal skill, but something Leo taught himself through instinct and battle—the raw feeling of presence, of bloodlust, of something hiding in the dark.
And he felt it.
He felt all of it.
His eyes widened.
"They're surrounding us," Leo said quietly.
Lyra's grip on his arm tightened. "W-What are they…?"
Leo's voice was calm, but beneath it, a storm was rising. "Wolf monsters. Dozens. Closing in from every direction."
Lyra's breath caught. "What should we do now…?"
Then Leo turned to her with a dangerous, confident smile. "Simple. It's time to kill them."
He stepped forward, lifting his right hand slowly.
A chill wind blew past them as ice magic surged through his veins.
From the earth around them, sharp icy spikes burst out—small, but deadly. Each one was aimed outward, forming a protective circle around them. The silver moonlight reflected off the glimmering spears, giving the entire jungle a ghostly glow.
Leo raised his fingers.
Snap.
In an instant, the ice spikes shot out, cutting through the trees, the air—and the wolves.
Screeches. Cracks. Silence.
A moment later, red blood trickled out from the bushes, soaking into the soil.
Lyra stood frozen, eyes wide. "That… that was amazing…"
Leo didn't reply. He just lowered his hand slowly, the glow in his eyes fading to a dull purple.
"We should keep moving," he said. "The jungle will only get more dangerous from here."
Lyra nodded silently, still in awe. Then the two of them—bloody mist behind them, a cursed goal ahead—walked deeper into the darkness.
Into the witch's domain.