The wind howls as Kaien lands atop the crumbled broadcast tower.
Lightning splits the sky.
Beneath him, something moves through the ash-fog.
Not walking.
Gliding.
Wings of torn light, not feathered — fractal and sharp like shattered glass — stretch from its back.
> "Gateborn. And not the talkative kind."
Kaien's hand tightens around the hilts on his back.
Then the creature vanishes.
---
Impact.
A blow like a thunderclap smashes the tower's top clean off.
Kaien dives, rolls midair, blades out—
CLANG.
Sparks fly as steel meets bone.
He's pushed back five meters before his boots catch on rubble.
The creature floats before him now.
Six wings, symmetrical, rotating slowly.
Eyes like molten silver.
No mouth.
No breath.
Just intent to kill.
> "Too fast to track. It's anticipating me. Testing."
Kaien exhales once.
Then vanishes.
---
Steel-on-steel.
He moves first this time — blades crossing in a sideways arc. The creature spins, dodging vertically with impossible control, and slashes with a wingtip sharp as a spear.
Kaien ducks.
But the wing clips his shoulder.
His jacket tears. Blood sprays.
He retaliates instantly — blade drawn across the creature's exposed side.
Contact.
A gash.
But the Gateborn doesn't flinch.
It twists midair, hooks a foot across Kaien's chin—
CRACK.
He flies backward, skids along the broken floor, vision swimming.
> "One mistake and I die. Don't stop moving."
---
The creature dives.
Kaien's hand snaps forward — throwing his right blade like a javelin.
Thunk.
The blade pierces through the left wing's base.
The Gateborn stutters in flight, veering into a wall.
Kaien's already on it.
He grabs the lodged blade, yanks it free—
—and plunges it into the creature's side.
Screech.
Not sound.
Resonance.
The same frequency as his own.
Kaien screams as the signal floods his brain.
Blood from his ears.
Memory flickers.
He sees a child crying.
Akari?
No—himself.
A voice:
> "You'll never be like her. But you'll do."
---
He shoves the blade deeper.
The Gateborn erupts.
Its wings flare, forcing Kaien back with a shockwave that shatters surrounding glass.
It's wounded now.
One wing limp.
It bleeds silver light.
But its eyes are alive with fury.
Kaien spits blood.
Twirls both blades.
> "Come on then."
The creature shrieks again — not noise.
Command.
And from the ground—**
Fragments rise.**
Old cables. Metal sheets.
They twist in air, mimicking its broken wing.
A makeshift seventh blade.
---
> "It adapts mid-battle."
Lightning flashes.
Kaien runs.
The two collide again.
Strike after strike — no wasted movement. Every dodge is a breath from death. Every parry tears muscle. Kaien's ribs are bruised. His arm is numb. But he keeps going.
Because behind every blow, behind every scream in his veins—
—is one question:
> "Why do they want me gone?"
---
Final clash.
Kaien drops low.
Slashes left.
The creature leans—
—bait.
Its new blade lashes down from above—
But Kaien drops his right-hand blade—
And catches the wing mid-fall—
Using its force to pivot upward and jam his remaining sword through the creature's skull.
Crunch.
Silver cracks spill like lightning from its eyes.
The Gateborn stumbles back.
Kaien flips, lands behind it, panting.
The creature takes three steps forward.
Stops.
And kneels.
Not in defeat.
In recognition.
Kaien's blade is still in its head.
And before it turns to ash—
It lifts its hand.
Touches Kaien's chest.
And whispers without sound:
> "Found you… Akari's shadow."
Then it vanishes.
---
Kaien collapses to one knee.
Breathing heavy.
Blood in his mouth.
His arm shaking uncontrollably.
But the fight is over.
And he's still alive.
The wind at high altitude was different.
It didn't carry dust or scent.
It carried memory.
Kaien stood at the edge of the skystep rail, overlooking what was once called the Upper Reach — floating landmasses tethered above fractured ground by old-world anchors.
No one lived there anymore.
Too unstable.
Too irradiated.
Too close to the last known breach where Akari vanished.
That's why Kaien had come.
That's where Sorei's final message pointed:
> "To find the root, follow the sky that never forgets."
---
He'd stolen a single-pilot glider.
Old tech.
No guidance system.
Just prop blades and a hand-brake.
No one chased him.
Either they were too afraid.
Or they were already watching.
---
He landed on Skyplate 07 just past midnight.
The wind was bitter.
The stars overhead did not blink.
No animals. No sound. No insects.
Just a constant thrum in the ground — like a massive heartbeat under miles of rock and silence.
Kaien stepped forward, blades on his back, coat whipping around him.
The landscape was unnatural.
Stone twisted into spiral formations.
Trees with no leaves.
Glass towers melted halfway through construction.
And at the center — a spiral of broken mirrors surrounding a raised monolith.
---
He approached carefully.
His feet disturbed no dust.
Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
When he stepped into the mirror spiral, his chest mark pulsed once.
Then again.
Faster.
Stronger.
Until the humming in his blood sang.
> She was here.
> Akari stood here.
---
He touched the monolith.
It was smooth.
Warm.
Alive.
Then his vision shattered.
---
[Flashback Resonance Triggered]
He's no longer on the Skyplate.
He stands in a room of mirrors, endless, suspended in black.
At the center — Akari.
Not chained.
Not broken.
But glowing faintly.
Her eyes are closed.
But she senses him.
> "Kaien."
> "You're real," he whispers.
> "You were always going to come here. They made you to chase me."
> "I'm not here because of them."
She turns slowly.
Her form flickers — skin shifting between human and light.
> "No. You're here because part of me lives in you."
> "Why did they lie to us?"
> "Because they feared what would happen if we chose ourselves."
---
Suddenly, something slams against the mirror-space.
A Gateborn.
Black. Twisted. Gigantic.
Fused with metallic tubes and human bones.
> "You have to wake up," she tells him.
"If you don't… it'll replace you."
---
[Reality resumes]
Kaien's eyes snap open.
Blood drips from his nose.
The monolith is glowing faintly — pulsing with the same fractured mark on his chest.
He steps back.
And then—
The ground rips open.
A Gateborn emerges.
But not like before.
This one is wearing a mask — shaped like a child's face.
Its arms are massive, covered in writhing script.
And as it roars, Kaien hears every voice he's ever killed.
> "Why are you alive—"
> "She should have been the one—"
> "You're just a shadow—"
> "A failed copy—"
---
Kaien draws both blades.
His hands don't shake.
> "I've heard it all before."
> "You think I care about being a replacement?"
> "Then hear this—"
He flips the blades forward.
The hum of resonance floods the skyplate.
> "I'm not her echo."
> "I'm her counterattack."
---
The creature charges.
Kaien meets it head-on.The Gateborn crashes through the monolith circle like a meteor of bone and thunder.
Each of its steps splinters stone.
Its arms—grotesque limbs stitched with moving symbols—trail black mist that burns the skyplate itself.
The childlike mask on its face grins, motionless, like a puppet forced to smile through death.
Kaien sprints toward it.
No hesitation.
No waiting.
He's fought too many.
He's bled too much.
And this thing—
This thing is built from everything he hates:
Fear, design, obedience.
> "Let it break," he tells himself.
"Let them see I can't be put back in a cage."
---
The Gateborn swings a fist.
Kaien rolls beneath it — a breath before impact.
The shockwave flattens three spiraling trees behind him.
He launches into the air using debris as springboards—
Clang!
Blades strike the Gateborn's shoulder.
Metal shrieks.
Kaien spins in midair and slices down across its back, gouging shallow trails of silver ichor.
The Gateborn doesn't flinch.
It turns too fast, and hurls a spiked limb—
Kaien blocks with both blades—
Crack.
His forearm screams in pain.
He's launched backward, skidding across the floating ground.
He coughs blood.
Then grins.
> "Hit harder than that," he growls, "or I'll think you're sparing me."
---
The Gateborn charges.
Kaien sprints into the storm.
Lightning flickers above.
Time slows.
---
> Step one: shoulder feint.
Kaien pivots to the right, narrowly dodging a winglike arm.
> Step two: upward draw—intercept the core vein.
He ducks, slashes upward across the mask—
CLANG!
The blade stops.
Not from resistance.
But from air.
It froze.
The Gateborn opens its mouth—a second one beneath the mask.
It lets out a frequency Kaien's ears aren't built for.
His bones shiver.
Blood runs from his nose.
He drops to one knee.
---
> "Not… yet—"
He drives one blade into the ground, steadying himself.
The hum in his chest ignites.
The fractured mark flashes gold-red for the first time.
The sound-wave flickers.
Kaien stands again.
Eyes bleeding.
But standing.
---
The Gateborn lunges.
Kaien does too.
Both collide midair.
This is not elegance.
It's teeth-grinding fury.
It's survival clawing at the edge of annihilation.
---
Steel slashes.
Claws tear.
Flesh opens.
Blood flies.
Silver and red spiral through the air like dying stars.
Kaien loses his grip on one blade.
But he doesn't care.
He leaps.
Knees the Gateborn in the throat.
Grabs its face—
And rams his last blade through its jaw, pinning it to the monolith.
It screams.
Not in pain.
In recognition.
---
> "You're her mistake," the Gateborn croaks.
"Not made to lead. Just to burn in her place."
Kaien grabs the mask.
Tears it off.
Underneath?
Nothing.
Just a swirling pit.
A face that never existed.
> "She's not your excuse anymore."
> "I'm no longer her echo."
He plunges the second blade straight into the void.
The Gateborn thrashes.
The wind howls—
Then silences.
The body crumples.
And dissolves into glowing ash.
---
Kaien collapses.
Hands on his knees.
Blood down his arms.
Vision blurring.
But alive.
Barely.
---
The monolith now pulses brighter.
A crack appears down its center.
From within it—
—not a Gateborn.
Not a voice.
A book.
Bound in silver cloth.
A title engraved in Requiem script:
> "The Names They Tried To Erase."
Inside it?
Photos.
Test logs.
Kaien's face.
Akari's face.
Sorei's face.
And dozens more.
Variables.
Killed.
Reassigned.
Erased.
And at the very last page—
Handwritten, in smudged ink:
> "If you're reading this, you lived longer than me."
"Don't let Requiem decide what your name means."
"You're not a Variable."
"You're the verdict."
—Akari
---
Kaien closes the book.
Stands beneath the bleeding sky.
And for the first time since he was born in their labs—
He feels like himself.
The book was no longer safe.
Kaien knew it the second he returned to the lower Requiem borderlands.
Every soldier turned his head.
Every checkpoint lingered longer than usual.
Every scanner blinked one too many times.
He had read the pages a hundred times.
Names.
Photos.
Failed experiments.
A list of Variables that Requiem erased from record.
Most were dead.
But three weren't.
Him.
Sorei.
And one other.
A-00.
Designated: The Pale Ghost.
No image.
Just a scribbled name.
"Kurosen Arata."
---
Riv sat across from him in the supply bunker.
For the first time since Kaien had met him, he looked afraid.
> "You found the book, didn't you?"
Kaien didn't answer.
He placed it on the table between them.
Riv stared.
> "Do you even know what you're holding?"
Kaien nodded.
> "A graveyard."
> "No," Riv said quietly. "That's not a graveyard. That's a map."
> "To what?"
Riv exhaled. His hand trembled slightly.
> "To Arata."
> "Who is he?"
Riv didn't speak for a long time.
Then, slowly—
> "He was the first one they ever made."
> "A-00?"
> "Before Akari. Before you. Before any of us knew what Gateborn really were."
---
> "He was human once. Brilliant. Quiet. Too quiet. We thought he was just disciplined."
> "Turns out, he was already hearing the Gate's voice."
> "When Akari woke the Gateborn instead of destroying them… Requiem sent him to kill her."
> "He failed."
> "He disappeared after that. Took everything he knew. Burned half of Sector Z-4 doing it."
> "He hasn't been seen in three years."
Kaien narrowed his eyes.
> "Then why do I feel like he's already watching me?"
Riv looked up sharply.
> "Because he is."
---
A loud clang echoed through the bunker roof.
The lights shut off.
Kaien and Riv stood instantly.
Footsteps.
But not heavy.
Soft. Deliberate.
A single voice cut the silence:
> "Variable 00-7. Stand down. I only kill once."
---
The door burst open.
And there he was.
Captain Arata Kurosen.
The Pale Ghost.
---
He wore no armor.
No insignia.
Just a long black coat with silver threads laced into the cuffs.
Two thin, curved sabers at his back.
His silver hair fell in clean strands across emotionless eyes.
He stepped through the ruined door without a word.
Kaien's blade was already in his hand.
But Riv stepped between them.
> "Don't."
Arata looked at Riv.
No hatred.
No familiarity.
Just silence.
Then he turned to Kaien.
---
> "You fought the Winged Fragment. You survived."
> "You've begun to wake. The hum is louder in you now."
> "You read the book."
Kaien stepped forward.
> "Are you here to kill me?"
Arata blinked slowly.
> "If I were, you'd already be dead."
> "Then what do you want?"
Arata stepped closer.
One blade came loose from his back with a whisper of metal.
> "To see if you're still human."
He struck.
---
Kaien dodged barely in time.
Steel whistled past his jaw.
Arata followed through — a spin, second blade flashing.
Kaien blocked with both hands, but the force shook his bones.
They clashed again.
And again.
Each blow was precise.
Too precise.
It was like Arata saw two seconds into the future.
---
Kaien's foot slipped.
Blade at his neck.
Then—
Stopped.
Arata tilted his head.
> "You hesitate before killing."
> "You haven't killed someone who looked like you yet."
> "That will break you."
Kaien shoved his blade aside, panting.
> "Why test me?"
Arata lowered his weapons.
> "Because soon, you'll face one of us."
> "One of the Variables?"
> "No. Worse."
> "A design that succeeded."
> "One that never woke up like you."
> "It stayed asleep."
> "And it grew into something monstrous."
---
Kaien felt the mark on his chest burn faintly.
Arata turned to Riv.
> "Tell him what's beneath the Second Core."
Riv didn't speak.
Arata stepped forward, calm.
> "Tell him, or I will."
Silence.
Then Riv sighed.
> "Requiem didn't just make Variables to fight Gateborn."
> "They wanted to become the Gateborn."
> "They succeeded once."
> "And they buried it in the Second Core."
---
Kaien's heart thudded.
> "What is it?"
Riv's voice dropped to a whisper.
> "They call it… Project Chrysalis."
> "A Variable merged entirely with the Gate's memory stream."
> "No humanity. No past. Just resonance incarnate."
> "The 'perfect' successor to Akari."
> "It doesn't even have a name."
---
Kaien turned to Arata.
> "Why tell me all this?"
> "Because it's waking."
> "And when it does, the only ones who can kill it…"
> "...are those it was made to replace."
> "You."
Three years ago
Location: Requiem Sector Z-4 — The Forbidden Reaches
It was supposed to be a surgical kill.
Requiem's top assassin, A-00 — Arata Kurosen, the Pale Ghost — was dispatched to erase the most dangerous anomaly ever born from their labs:
Variable 01 — Akari.
She had broken containment.
She had spared Gateborn.
She had smiled while slaughtering five elite squads.
And worse—
She had begun to remember who she was before they made her.
That made her a threat not just to Requiem—
But to the truth.
---
Arata arrived at twilight.
The Forbidden Reaches were silent, buried in red light.
Not a single living thing stirred.
And yet—
He felt her watching.
He always did.
---
He stepped into the open ruins, both blades sheathed.
No mask.
No armor.
Just the hum in his ears.
It was louder here. Thicker.
Like the very ground resonated with memory.
Then she spoke.
Soft. Calm. Like wind bending grass.
> "I wondered when you'd come."
She stood atop a collapsed satellite dish, her silver hair drifting in still air.
Her eyes weren't angry.
They were sad.
---
Arata's hand twitched.
> "You broke protocol. You released three Gateborns."
Akari tilted her head.
> "I set them free."
> "They weren't monsters."
> "They were like us."
Arata unsheathed his right blade.
> "They were weapons."
> "You were too."
> "You forgot that."
She stepped down from the satellite gently.
Her feet made no sound.
> "You think I forgot."
> "But I remember too much."
> "I remember the first girl I was before they carved my name away."
> "I remember the scream of the others when the resonance tests failed."
> "I remember you, too."
> "You were the only one who never screamed."
---
A pause.
Then Arata moved.
Faster than thought.
Blade aimed for her throat.
CLANG!
Akari parried with her bare hand.
Not grabbed.
Parried.
The air cracked from force.
Arata slid back three meters.
His blade trembled in his hand.
She still hadn't drawn hers.
---
> "You're still the cleanest killer they've ever made," Akari said softly.
"But I wonder…"
She stepped forward.
> "Did you ever wonder why they named you a ghost?"
> "Because you weren't supposed to have a life."
> "Only missions."
> "Only endings."
Arata moved again.
Slashes left—right—low—fake spin—high arc—
Blocked. Parried. Countered. Dodged.
It was a storm.
A hurricane of steel and light.
And yet—
No blood.
Every blow he made—
She turned aside with grace.
Not force.
Not brute strength.
Just knowing.
As if she could see his strikes before he made them.
---
Finally, he broke pattern.
Threw one blade.
Closed distance.
Grabbed her arm.
And whispered:
> "You could've left."
> "Why are you still here?"
---
Her answer shook him.
> "Because one day, a boy like me will wake up in one of their cells."
> "And he'll need to know someone didn't just run."
---
Then—
She let him stab her.
Blade into her stomach.
Deep.
Straight through.
Arata froze.
But she smiled.
> "They wanted us to be perfect."
> "But the Gate… the Gate gave me something they can't take."
She leaned forward—
Blood on her lips.
> "A name."
> "And I'm going to make sure it echoes."
---
Light erupted from her chest.
Not fire.
Not energy.
Memory.
And with it—
A scream not from her.
Not from Arata.
But from the Gate itself.
---
Arata was flung back, crashing into a shattered wall.
The world tilted.
The sky cracked.
And Akari stood alone in a dome of blinding white.
Then—
She vanished.
No trace.
No body.
Only a humming mark on the stone.
The same fractured circle Kaien now bears.
---
Arata rose.
Blood on his mouth.
He looked at the mark.
And whispered:
> "You were never the mistake."