— WHAT? — her father asked in disbelief. — If we go out there, the creatures will get us, Amara!
— But if we stay and don't run, they'll attack us here in the car. Not to mention the helicopters coming—we have to escape that poisonous gas as fast as possible.
— But can you push me fast with the weight of that suitcase? — her father seemed reluctant to give in.
— Forget the suitcase. Just take the knives and the gun, and let's go. You saw that Sombro devouring that person, didn't you? We're cornered, Dad. There's no one left on the streets—just us and those demons.
Hisakawa let out a deep sigh, lifting his chin as if to keep tears from falling. He was scared too—Amara could feel it. The end was near for both of them, but she would do everything she could to save her father.
— Let's go — he said, eyes shut tight.
Amara didn't wait a second longer. She jumped out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get his wheelchair. The rain had become heavier, making visibility even worse. She managed to open the chair, but as she pushed it toward the passenger seat, something called her name.
She turned and saw the image of her mother standing in the rain. Her gut screamed with suspicion, but she remained still—she didn't want to expose her father to danger. The "mother" ran toward her, wearing an expression of deep agony.
— Daughter, I've been looking for you for so long — she said as she approached, her voice sweet and concerned, just like her mother's.
— How did you get here so fast on foot? — Amara asked in that same low, tense voice.
— I've been running for hours! I got out of the market and ran home as fast as I could, but you weren't there, so...
— And how could you run that much if you're sick, Mom? Or have you forgotten?
The creature before her slowly shifted its expression into an ironic smile. It revealed its claws and spoke in a guttural voice that could never belong to her real mother:
— Smart girl! Too bad you'll be my third meal today.
In a flash, the Sombro leapt at her with claws ready to strike. But Amara reacted quickly—she raised the wheelchair and slammed it into the creature, knocking it to the ground. Wasting no time, she struck it again with the chair as hard as she could.
It roared in fury, its eyes glowing a fierce red—but that wasn't enough to kill it. Mr. Hisakawa had opened his door and now stared, mouth agape, at the scene before him. Amara turned and yelled:
— Daaaad! Use the gun—shoot her in the head!
The creature tried to rise, but Amara struck it over and over with the chair to keep it down. Her father, hands trembling, tried to aim the revolver.
— I don't know if I can do it, daughter — he shouted through the heavy rain.
— Yes, you can—hurry!
— Amara, watch out! — Hisakawa screamed as he spotted a black blur rushing toward his daughter.
Amara barely had time to throw the wheelchair at the figure.
— Nooo, my chair! — her father cried out, devastated.
— Dad, — Amara ran to him and snatched the revolver from his hands — stay inside. I'll handle this.
She also grabbed a machete and a hammer.
— You still have some knives in there for defense. Don't hesitate if one of them gets in the car—got it? Aim right between the eyes!
Before her father could protest, she slammed the door and locked him inside. But when she turned to face the creatures, they were gone. She ran to where the broken wheelchair had fallen and looked around, but the heavy rain and the dimming light made it nearly impossible to see.
Which is why she couldn't defend herself when a Sombro rammed into her like a hurricane. Amara hit the ground, still holding the gun tight, but her machete and hammer had scattered across the asphalt. Still lying down, she aimed the gun upward—but again, she saw nothing.
She stood and waited for movement—anything—to fire at, hoping to hit the demon. Suddenly, someone yanked her hair back violently—it was the mother-Sombro with glowing red eyes. The demon grabbed her hands before she could shoot and mocked:
— How dare you point a gun at your own mother, daughter?
The creature's body had somehow returned to normal, even after all those blows. Apparently, Sombros could regenerate their form. Only a shot or blow to the head could kill them.
Amara struggled to free herself, but the creature was strong and laughed at her efforts. Her thumb, however, managed to squeeze the trigger, and the gun fired. She was released, but when she turned, she saw the bullet had hit the Sombro's shoulder—not the head. The monster grinned at her with sharp teeth.
She had one bullet left—and two Sombros stalking her.
Amara ran—not because she thought she could outrun them, but to lure them away from her father in the car. She ran for a block and a half before the Sombro in blur-form passed her and stopped in front of her. Then, it reverted to another replica of her mother.
Amara raised the gun and fired at its head. The creature dodged with ease.
That was her death sentence.
But she wouldn't give in so easily—she had been trained, along with her sister, in the Khalawan army known as Nyoka, which meant serpent. She would fight with her bare hands until death.
The creature charged, and she dodged, sweeping its legs. The Sombro nearly fell but regained balance and slashed her right arm with clawed hands. Amara responded with a punch to its face. She tried to break its arm but ended up on the ground—overwhelmed by the creature's speed and strength. And as if things couldn't get worse, the other Sombro appeared beside her and said to the other replica:
— Looks like we'll have to share a meal.
Then it slashed her abdomen, tearing skin and cloth. Amara screamed in pain, bracing for the cruelest, most gruesome death those two demons could give her.
But...
A bullet pierced the red-eyed Sombro's head from behind. Black blood splattered over her, and the creature collapsed on top of her. Another shot blew through the head of the second Sombro from the side, and it too fell on her. A hail of bullets followed, riddling their corpses, mixing black blood with rainwater and drenching Amara completely.
When the gunfire stopped, she dared to lift her head—and saw a tall man with a rifle in his right hand walking toward her. As he drew close enough for his face to appear under the streetlight, Amara was stunned by his beauty. His expression was stern and cold, black hair clinging to his neck, soaked by the torrential rain.
But what caught Amara's attention was the symbol on his uniform: a red circle with a crescent moon inside, pierced vertically by a katana radiating blue fire. Five purple bellflowers adorned the moon, representing the five most important warriors of Hinoken.
This man was one of the Cobalt Flames, the strongest warriors of the world's most famous resistance army.
And not only that—when Amara glanced at his shoulders, she saw the hilt of the Hinoyaiba sword strapped to his back. That legendary katana could only belong to one specific Cobalt Flame.
This man was none other than the leader of the Hinoken army.