Without hesitation, he grabbed her arm, shoving her toward the door leading into the building. Hachyro followed close behind, his steps quick and deliberate. They barreled down a flight of stairs, only to run into one of the guards assigned to protect the nobles.

               The man narrowed his eyes at the sight of the Arsian, a smug grin curling across his face.

               “I thought you weren’t supposed to let him in,” he mocked. “Lord Hrassin will be thrilled to hear about this.”

               “Tharym is under attack!” Ayun snapped, disregarding the man’s petty delight at the chance to report him. “We need to get out of here!”

               The guard scoffed.

                “Attacked? Who in their right mind would dare attack Tharym?”

               Still smirking, he strode toward the window. But before he could take another breath, a clawed arm shot through the opening, seizing his head in a vice-like grip and yanking him outside. His scream was cut off in an instant.

               A sickening chorus of inhuman screeches echoed from beyond the walls, each impact against the building sending violent tremors through the air.

               “Ayun!” Lirany’s voice trembled with terror.

               In the meantime, Ayun had slipped beneath the window, moving with sharp precision. He refused to let his gaze linger on what remained of the former occupant, forcing himself to stay focused. Without wasting a moment, he snatched a cloak from the coat rack, his hands swift and steady. Turning to Lirany, he draped it over her shoulders, knowing full well that her delicate dress offered little protection against the bone-chilling cold seeping into the air.

               Lirany parted her lips, ready to thank him, but at that very moment, one of the winged specters burst through the window. The creature flapped wildly, disoriented, and Ayun reacted instantly—yanking the girl aside just as the beast crashed into the opposite wall. Shaking itself off, the monster refocused and lunged.

               Ayun barely had time to move before its razor-sharp fangs sank deep into his wrist. Pain seared through him, but instinct took over. His free hand shot out, slamming onto the creature’s skull. It dropped lifelessly to the floor. Its jaw hung open in a grotesque spasm, a strange wound blooming at the center of its forehead—as if something had pierced straight through its skull. Its body twitched once, twice… then stilled forever.

               The bite looked bad, but Ayun merely pulled his sleeve over it and forced a reassuring smile at Lirany, who stared at him, frozen in terror.

               “Don’t just stand there!” Hachyro barked, his voice taut with urgency. “More of them will get inside!”

               Without another word, he bolted forward, the other two close behind. Another specter clawed through a shattered window, barely missing Lirany as she sprinted past. They were running straight for the stairs, descending as fast as their feet would carry them.

               Then a violent tremor rocked the building, knocking them off balance. Hachyro grabbed Lirany around the waist, leaping over half the staircase with terrifying ease. She yelped, horrified, but he didn’t slow down. Ayun landed on the next floor, but the moment his hand touched the railing for support, it began to tilt dangerously.

               “The building is collapsing! It’s going to—”

               But his voice was swallowed by the chaos. Right before their eyes, the stairs and railing crumbled, turning into a deadly avalanche of stone and dust. With nothing left to hold onto, they plunged into the abyss—swallowed whole by the ruins crashing down around them.

               The impact with the ground wrenched Ayun’s last clear thoughts from his mind, leaving him dazed by the avalanche of noise and the suffocating air around him. Instinctively, he reached for the magic deeply rooted within him. It erupted outward, forming a protective dome over them.

               He could feel the weight of the collapsing debris pressing against his shield, the strain building with every passing second. His heart pounded as he braced for the moment it would fail. Because right now, the only thing standing between them and total annihilation was that fragile barrier of magic. The deafening chaos stretched on for what felt like an eternity—then, suddenly, silence. But the pressure remained, draining him little by little. He lay sprawled on the floor, his breath ragged, unable to muster the strength to rise. Around him, there was only an impenetrable darkness.

               “Wh-where are we?” a timid voice broke the stillness—Lirany.

               She was scared. But she was alive. A few well-aimed curses followed, a sure sign that Hachyro had also survived.

               “Hachyro,” Ayun murmured weakly. “Can you describe what happened?”

               “What, can’t you see for yourself?” Hachyro shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

               Judging by the noise, he had just stood up—only to smack his head against something, which did nothing to improve his mood.

               “Well... no. I can’t see anything.”

               The oppressive silence that settled between them was almost tangible. Ayun could easily imagine Hachyro staring at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and outrage at his confession.

               “Oh, right. That little... inconvenient detail,” the arsian hissed, laced with sarcasm.

               “W-what do you mean?” Lirany whispered.

               Even though he couldn’t see her, Ayun could tell from her tone just how much this revelation had unsettled her.

               “It’s not just the lack of demonic blood that makes me different from other kitsune,” he explained slowly. “It’s my eyes. In total darkness, I’m completely blind.”

               For the first time, he truly understood how she had lived her entire life. Of all the senses, sight was, without a doubt, the most precious.

               “The building collapsed on top of us,” Hachyro began, his frustration barely concealed. “We’re trapped between slabs of stone and the floor. There’s barely half a meter of space, and—” he exhaled sharply, “—both you and Lirany are injured.”

               “No!” the girl gasped.

               Ayun realized she had mistaken his weakened voice for pain.

               “It’s nothing serious,” he assured her. “Nothing I can’t heal—but not right now.” He took a shuddering breath. “Hachyro, find us a way out. I... I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

               Shock still numbed him, keeping the pain at bay. He had no idea what injuries tormented him. Closing his eyes—useless now—he remained still, listening to Lirany’s muffled sobs nearby.

               Over the years, he had honed his skill in barrier magic, but never before had he been forced to withstand such an immense weight. The magic within him was draining at an alarming rate, leaving him weaker with each passing second.

               “Lift the shield from the floor to your left,” Hachyro ordered, his voice sharp and commanding.

               Ayun obeyed without hesitation. He followed the instruction instantly, sensing an unfamiliar strength guiding his every move. Behind him, the air filled with the clash of the arsian’s twin tails. After several powerful strikes, a pale sliver of light—likely from the moon—pierced the darkness. Outside, the night had settled, but the cold air rushed in like a blessing.

               Ayun realized their prison was just as Hachyro had described—mere inches between the dusty floor and the collapsed ruins threatening to bury them.

               With careful movements, the arsian widened the gap enough to slip through, stepping out cautiously before motioning for them to follow. Lirany wriggled through first, desperate to escape the crushing confinement.

               Ayun hurried after her, forced to crawl through the tight space. But just as he was about to reach safety, only half a meter away from freedom, a strange, bone-chilling howl tore through the air, making him freeze in place.

               The building trembled under a new shock as something above them gave way, as if an invisible force had suddenly pressed down upon it. Ayun groaned, twisting onto his back and pressing his palms against the invisible shield holding back the mountain of debris. The effort had become unbearable; his magic was failing, and he no longer had the strength to sustain the barrier. Every additional movement pushed him closer to collapse, and with each passing second, he forgot to breathe, struggling against the overwhelming weight that was slowly but surely defeating him.

               Suddenly, a clawed hand seized his collar and yanked him free from beneath the crushing ruins. His concentration shattered, and he watched as his magical shield dissolved—an instant later, a cascade of stones came crashing down where he had just been.

               The fractured structure shuddered, groaning under its own instability. Then, to their immense relief, it collapsed westward, away from them. At its peak, a dark silhouette took flight, vanishing into the night like a phantom.

               Ayun staggered to his feet, gasping, his entire body trembling. He met Hachyro’s gaze, gratitude shining in his eyes.

               “Are you alright?” Lirany asked, her voice tight with worry.

               Blood matted the side of her face, and a large bruise glistened on her forehead, but she didn’t seem too badly hurt. Ayun glanced down at himself—besides the lingering pain from the creature’s bite, a deep gash ran along his let arm, bleeding profusely. It was superficial, though, and could wait for treatment later.

               Before he could respond, a winged creature landed just a few steps away. Its glowing red eyes locked onto them, and it let out a strange, chilling cry—a haunting echo of death itself. Realizing that the slightest hesitation could be fatal, the three scattered instantly, sprinting in different directions.

               Ayun dashed toward the northern part of the city, fully aware of the heavy footsteps closing in behind him. Exhausted from maintaining the magical shield, he moved far slower than the other two, making him an easy target. The beast must have sensed his weakness. When it tensed and leaped, claws outstretched, he threw himself into a narrow alleyway, diving behind a cluster of overturned barrels. He sucked in deep breaths, pressing his body against the ground, willing his heartbeat to slow.

               He had no idea what these creatures were, but he quickly realized that, like many predators, they hunted by sensing their prey’s emotions. Intense feelings—especially fear—worked like a beacon, drawing them in and ensuring they never missed a target.

               Luckily, Ayun had complete control over himself. He suppressed every sensation, banishing all emotions until he was nothing but stillness. The creature sniffed the air, searching, but without fear to guide it, it lost track of him.

               Moments later, distant screams split the night, pulling its attention away. With a beat of its wings, it soared into the sky, seeking another target.

               The young man exhaled in relief and rose to his feet, stepping cautiously toward the end of the alley. Little by little, the full scale of Tharym’s devastation unfolded before him. The city was a living nightmare. Countless buildings lay in ruins, while dozens of fires consumed everything in their path. Winged wraiths circled frenetically across the darkened sky, their unearthly cries piercing the air, while others prowled the streets. Bodies littered the ground—many missing vital parts.

               A biting cold seeped into his bones, his breath visible in the icy air. His thick clothes had been left behind in his room, but the thought of going back for them never crossed his mind. The temperature had dropped unnaturally for this time of year. Hugging his arms around himself for warmth, he stepped carefully into the marketplace. Several buildings had collapsed there, forcing him to weave through the debris, all while keeping an eye on a wraith soaring overhead.

               "A-Ayun..."

               A faint, wavering voice echoed through the night, stopping him in his tracks.

               Hrassin.

               Scanning the area, he finally spotted the familiar figure of the port’s sovereign, trapped beneath a mound of rubble. Ayun rushed toward him, but as he drew closer, horror clenched his chest. Half of the yokai’s body was crushed beneath a massive slab of marble—a rare and precious material in Tharym, once part of a grand building’s floor.

               Finding no significance in the stone’s value, Ayun bent down, gripping its edge with both hands and straining to lift it. Despite his efforts, the marble seemed fused to the ground, unmoved and indifferent to his struggle. Growling in frustration, he tried again, but exhaustion was seeping into every fiber of his body. Above him, a wraith hovered ominously, forcing him to crouch among the rubble like a fox hiding beneath dry branches. A cruel irony, given his nature!

               "They will find you if you stay here," Hrassin whispered, his voice unsteady. "Marslo has ordered... the city's evacuation. Make your way to the Tower and—"

               "Save your damned orders for later," Ayun hissed, grasping the slab’s edge again with furious determination. "I won’t let you die."

               Planting his feet firmly, he pushed with all his strength, feeling the rough stone scrape against his already raw fingers. But despite his desperate effort, the slab refused to budge. At that moment, footsteps echoed along the market’s cobbled alley. Ayun turned, hoping to see Lirany’s familiar figure emerging from the shadows. Instead, Hachyro appeared—his face smeared with soot, a deep, ugly gash above his brow.

               The arsian halted when he saw them, his fire-lit gaze shifting from Ayun to the trapped yokai, assessing the situation.

               "You look like you could use some help," he said, his voice free of hostility or resentment.

               "Please," Ayun replied.

Hachyro studied the slab of marble for a few moments before gripping its edge, showing his willingness to help. Ayun joined him, and together, gritting their teeth, they pushed with all their might, adrenaline surging through their bodies. With a dull, heavy sound, the stone finally shifted, and Hrassin crawled out from beneath it, dragging himself to safety just before Ayun and Hachyro let the slab crash back down. Groaning in pain, the leader struggled to his feet, rubbing his bruised back.