The morning light in the refugee camp revealed the grim reality of survival. Cold wind bit at exposed skin. Mist hung low over the battered tents like the breath of something unseen. Children cried nearby — some out of hunger, others from nightmares. The sharp scent of smoke and disinfectant lingered in the air. People murmured in hushed voices.
"I heard a lot of cities got destroyed…"
"Gone in one night."
"Millions of people, dead."
Akino stirred in his cot, face damp with sweat. He sat upright with a jolt — eyes wide, chest heaving.
Akino's having a Nightmare
Flames. So many flames.
In the dream, the sky burned orange-red. His mother screamed, reaching for him across a wall of fire. Her skin blistered, her figure fading into the inferno. And behind her — a figure. Cloaked in shadows, horns curling like obsidian blades. The Demon King. Watching. Smiling.
Akino tried to move, but the dream kept him frozen. The Demon King raised a hand, and Akino felt the fire enter his chest.
He awoke in a panic, hand gripping his arm where the glow had first appeared. It wasn't glowing now — not yet. But the memory lingered like poison.
An hour later
A crowd had gathered near a military truck, where soldiers stood handing out rations — dry bread and bottled water. The line stretched long, and tempers ran hot.
"Why do we have to feed the ones who just came in?! We barely eat ourselves!" one man shouted from up front.
"We lost families, too! Who the hell do you think you are?!" someone else shot back.
A scuffle broke out near the front of the line. Two men grabbed each other's collars, shouting in each other's faces before police stepped in, slamming shields between them.
"Everyone back!" barked an officer. "Back in line or we stop distribution!"
Akino stood in line with Ryo and Aya. His eyes scanned the chaos, jaw tight. Around him, the air was thick with desperation.
"Yup," Ryo muttered beside him. "Love the warm hospitality."
"At least... It's still bread," Akino replied coldly.
The line moved slowly. As they neared the front, a scrappy man — gaunt and twitchy — tried to push his way past Akino and Ryo, reaching for extra rations on the soldier's table.
"That's my family's share!" the man snarled.
Akino stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
"Back off."
The man turned toward him, wild-eyed. "You got a problem?"
Akino said nothing. He didn't even blink. He simply stared, his gaze flat and hard — like he was daring the man to try something. Like he'd kill him without hesitation if he moved any closer.
The man froze. A cold sweat formed on his brow. For a second, it seemed like he might swing, might scream — but something in Akino's stare broke him. He stepped back slowly.
"…Freak," he muttered, backing away.
Akino grabbed the bread calmly and handed it to Aya.
A little farther down the line, Akino noticed a woman holding a sleeping child in her lap, her face pale and thin. She stared blankly at a crust of bread in her hand, not eating it — just holding it. Her eyes were empty. Behind her, a few men whispered quietly, bartering old coins, a cracked lighter, even a wedding ring — They're willing to give anything for another meal.
Akino's gaze lingered. No words. Just a growing heaviness in his chest.
Later, the three of them sat inside their assigned tent, tearing into the dry rations. Ryo chewed with exaggerated disgust.
"This isn't bread," he said. "This is sponge with depression."
Aya smirked. "You're just picky."
"I'd rather eat the mat," he grumbled, flopping over dramatically.
For a few moments, they were just kids again. Ryo bickered with Aya like old times.
"Hey! That's my side of the mat!"
"Your side has better light. I'm drawing! There is nothing else to do, just let me draw on this side for a moment."
"Draw on your face, not my mat!"
"How about I draw on your forehead? There's plenty of space!"
Akino gave a faint smile… but it didn't last long. He leaned back against the wall of the tent, eyes unfocused.
Ryo noticed. "You okay?"
Akino didn't answer at first.
"Seriously though," Ryo added, tone shifting, "Where the hell did those things even come from? Are they aliens or what?"
"Why ask me, you dumbhead?" Aya said. "Do you think I know the answer?"
Akino's expression darkened. His hands clenched into fists.
"They didn't just come. They took. They stole everything from us. My mom… she didn't even stand a chance."
The tent went quiet. The wound on his arm glows faintly again...
Flash Memory that was triggered by the unknown thing glowing in his hand
A broken world.
A crumbling alien planet, scarred by time. Cities ruined. Black sun hanging in a dying sky.
On a cliff overlooking the wasteland stood the Demon King and his Right Hand Man.
"My Lord," the Right Hand Man said, kneeling, "this world is old… it can't sustain us any longer."
"Then we destroy this world and move," the Demon King declared. "Find one rich with life — and take it."
Suddenly, Akino gasped and clutched his chest, yanked back to the present.
"Yo, you good?" Ryo asked, alarmed.
Akino shook his head slowly. "I saw something. A memory, but not mine…"
From nearby tents, hushed voices trickled through the canvas.
"They say some demons are trying to make it past the northern Arc barrier."
"That's impossible. They can't go past the Arc Spine, they'll turn into dust"
Ryo frowned, clearly listening. "Do you think they can destroy the Arc spine?"
"Don't say that," Aya whispered. "That's not possible... right?"
Akino didn't respond. He just stared harder at the ground, as if daring the world to challenge him.
Before Ryo could press, a voice echoed across the camp.
"Who here wants to train and fight!? Volunteer squads forming now!"
Akino stood up, almost instantly. Raised his hand, "I'll go."
Ryo blinked. "Dude?!"
Akino's voice was cold, bitter. "I'm done waiting. I'm not just gonna sit here and let people die."
Ryo stared at him for a long second. Then sighed. "Screw it." Ryo stood up and raised his hand. "Me, too!"
"I'm coming too!" Aya chimed in.
"No you're not!" Ryo snapped. "Dad's last wish was for me to protect you and Mom!"
"I'm not a baby anymore! I can do what I think is right! And I think it's right to fight for humanity..."
"No! I'm not losing you too!"
"ENOUGH!" Akino grabbed Ryo's collar, eyes blazing. "You think you're the only one who lost someone? I watched my mom die, right in front of me. You think I get to cry and do nothing? If Aya wants to help, let her! Use your head for once. She doesn't have to fight on the front lines — she could be a medic or support. But don't you dare treat her like dead weight."
Ryo flinched, stunned.
"…Damn it. You're right."
They stepped outside, dust blowing around their feet. A mismatched trio walks toward the soldier calling for volunteers.
All the volunteers gathered.
Just as the soldier turned to leave, thinking no one else would come, a hush fell over the crowd.
A girl stepped forward.
She was their age, maybe younger — silver hair flowing behind her, piercing blue eyes locked straight ahead. Her presence silenced the air around her.
"I'm coming too," she said.
Her gaze met Akino's. It wasn't curiosity. It wasn't fear. It was recognition.
Something stirred in Akino's mind. A sliver of a memory. Her face… it felt familiar.
Ryo elbowed him. "Well, training just got interesting, huh?"
"Shut up," Akino muttered.
The soldier raised an eyebrow. "Alright. All of you. Follow me."
The soldier stopped at a checkpoint with a table. A second officer sat behind it with a clipboard.
"Names?" he asked. Then: "Ages. Injuries. Weaknesses?"
Akino stood tall. "None."
The officer squinted at him. "You look like hell."
Akino didn't respond.
They each gave answers. When it was the silver-haired girl's turn, the officer paused.
"You sure you're not from a special unit? You look like one, and you look like you've been through hell."
"No," she said quickly.
The man eyed her, then moved on.
Then, the officer said to them -
"You're trainees now, wear this." The officer handed out gray armbands. "You fail training, you're out."
"Out as in…? Out?" Ryo started.
"As in you feed yourself tomorrow if you don't pass. No more free food for failures," the officer smirked.
Akino clenched his jaw.
That night, the Arc Spine crackled in the sky above them. The four recruits were given a small space to sleep near the barrier.
Akino went outside for a walk and sat beside a fallen tree alone, staring out at the glowing towers.
A soldier nearby lit a cigarette and nodded to him.
"Can't sleep?"
Akino shook his head. "No."
"You look young. Too young for this war."
"Everyone's too young for this."
The soldier smiled bitterly. "Ain't that the truth."
"I heard a lot of cities got wiped out," he continued. "My family was up north. Haven't heard a damn thing. No clue if they made it. No clue if I should hope they did or hope it was quick."
Akino said nothing.
"You lose someone?"
He finally spoke. "I lost everything."
The soldier looked at him for a long time, then gave a slow nod.
"You've got fire in your eyes, kid. Keep that fire. Don't go quiet. The ones who go quiet... they die next."
Akino looked up at the lightning-charged towers of the Arc Spine.
"I'm not planning to die."
Later that night, Akino sat with his back against the supply crate, eyes on the towers sparking in the dark. Everyone else was asleep.
His hands trembled.
"You should've ran, Mom," he whispered. "You should've left me and ran."
No answer.
"If I were stronger... you'd still be here."
His voice cracked.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should've done something."
His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.
He didn't cry.
He just sat there, biting back every scream threatening to break loose.
The Arc Spine buzzed like a storm in the dark sky.
And Akino stayed there — alone.
Burning in silence.