_____MI'KAEL SERAPHANE_____

The bright sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, and the quiet rustling of leaves was broken only by the faintest whisper of wind. We moved in perfect synchrony, bodies pressed low to the ground, blending with the foliage that surrounded us. Every step was deliberate—silent, calculated.

The mission was clear, and there was no room for hesitation. The Head of the Clan had given the orders. This was no simple raid. This was retribution. The mercenaries had betrayed the Clan, and it was their betrayal that had led to the death of our father.

There would be no negotiation. No mercy.

I kept my breathing steady, the weight of my blade heavy at my side. It was strange, the way the silence felt—almost suffocating. The forest was still, but underneath that stillness, I could feel the tension building. The mercenaries’ base was ahead, hidden deep within the trees, but there was no mistaking the scent of bloodlust in the air. I had lived for this moment. I had trained for it. There was no other way. They had taken everything from us. It was time to take it back.

Caelus, who was leading the operation, gave the signal. We spread out, moving with the precision we had been taught, melding into the landscape as we flanked the base. The morning light cut through the trees, bright enough to expose us, but I wasn’t worried. We had trained in every condition, every type of terrain. The mercenaries were not prepared for us. They never had been.

The forest ahead was thick with their presence—shadows moving between the trees. I couldn’t see them yet, but I knew they were there. Their movements were sluggish at first, unaware of the storm that was closing in on them. But it wouldn’t be long before they realized.

Caelus’s voice broke the silence, low and direct. “We strike fast. No hesitation. Swift and final.”

I nodded, my focus sharpening as I stared at the mercenary base ahead. This wasn’t about me. This was about the Clan. About our family. The men who betrayed us. They killed Father, took him from us. And now, we had to make them pay.

I looked over at Azrael. He was steady, unwavering. He had been through so much more than I had. But me? I wasn't sure I could take that step. Could I really kill them? Something inside me refused to quiet.

The thoughts swirled in my mind, the weight of vengeance pressing down on me. I clenched my fists, trying to push the doubt aside. There was no room for hesitation. No time for second thoughts.

Caelus's gaze was sharp as he met my eyes, a quiet command in his stare. "Stay focused, Young Master."

I took a deep breath, nodding again. I couldn’t afford to hesitate. Not when everything was on the line. Caelus’s voice sliced through the tension. 

“Move out.”

The Ashen responded immediately, slipping through the shadows with the practiced ease of warriors who had done this a hundred times. They moved like ghosts, swiftly and silently, leaving no trace behind.

I was about to follow, but Caelus’ hand shot out, stopping me. “Not yet, Mi'kael. Azrael. You’ll move with me.”

I nodded, my breath steadying as I realized what this meant. This wasn’t just a mission anymore. This was the beginning of something darker. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. I had trained for this, but the weight of it all felt different now that we were on the move.

We followed Caelus as he led us down the incline toward the base, our footsteps soft and measured. But while the others glided forward with military precision, I couldn’t help but feel out of place, like I was stumbling in their wake. I wasn’t used to the rush of real combat. My senses felt overwhelmed. The trees, the sounds of nature around us, the faint whispers of the wind—everything felt too loud. Too real.

Without realizing it, I shifted my weight, stepping forward. My foot landed on a thick branch, and it snapped with a loud crack, echoing through the forest.

A mercenary outside the base heard it, and his voice called out, sharp and startled. "What the hell was that?"

Caelus cursed under his breath. "Shit! Positions now!"

Chaos erupted in an instant.

The mercenaries at the entrance were on alert, scrambling to organize. I barely registered the movements around me—my mind struggling to catch up as the sound of clashing steel filled the air. The Ashen were already in motion, cutting down any opposition that dared to get too close. Their strikes were merciless, calculated and efficient, as they incapacitated the guards with lethal precision.

The air smelled of blood and iron, and the sounds of combat were deafening.

Caelus’s voice broke through the noise. “Mi'kael! Azrael! We move now. Head straight for the leader. Find him.”

I was snapped back into focus, but my limbs felt heavy, like I was moving in slow motion. I pushed myself forward, forcing myself to shake off the confusion. 

Focus. 

Find the leader of the mercenaries. I had to put everything aside.

I took a step forward, but before I could move any further, Caelus’ shouted, “Kaito. Broad-shouldered. Scar on the side of his face. That’s our target!”

I nodded.

Kaito. 

I’ll make him pay.

I didn’t wait for another word. The sounds of battle surrounded me, the Ashen’s deadly work unfolding as I darted forward, eyes scanning the chaos for any signs of him. Every step was heavy, each breath more labored as the weight of the mission pressed down on me.

But there was no time to hesitate now. I had to find Kaito.

The chaos around me was deafening—clashing steel, shouts, and screams filled the air. I rushed through the frenzy, weaving between combatants, trying to block out the noise. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of my blood rushing in my ears drowning out everything else. The scent of blood, the taste of it thick in the air—it was overwhelming.

A mercenary lunged at me, his blade slashing through the air with deadly intent. I reacted on instinct, unsheathing my blade in a fluid motion, parrying the strike with a practiced twist of my wrist. The force of the blow rattled through my arm, but I held firm. My attacker stepped back, readying himself for another strike.

But my mind hesitated. My grip tightened on the hilt, but my body faltered. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to strike him down.

Why was I hesitating?

Another mercenary came at me from the side, and I barely managed to parry his blow, the force throwing me off balance. My eyes darted around, panic setting in. 

I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t do this.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind me, and before I could react, a swift slash of a blade cleaved through the air, cutting down the mercenary that had been too close to me. I turned to see Azem standing there, his eyes sharp as he cut down another assailant with ease.

“C'mon, young master," Azem said, his voice low but urgent. "You can't hesitate, not now."

I swallowed hard, guilt flooding my chest as I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. 

He was right.

I took a deep breath, my resolve hardening. I was here for a reason. I couldn’t afford to be weak.

I darted forward, leaping over fallen bodies and dodging slashes from mercenaries desperate to stop me. 

The sound of clashing weapons and grunts filled my ears, but I tuned them out. I had a mission. I had to finish it.

I spotted a scout tower ahead, a vantage point in the midst of the chaos. Without hesitation, I pushed myself harder, reaching the base of the tower and using the rough wood to propel myself upward. The climb was quick, fueled by a desperation I hadn’t known before. As I reached the top, my eyes scanned the area below.

And there he was.

Kaito.

He was making his way toward a hidden exit at the back of the base, slipping away without a word to anyone. I could see his broad shoulders, the scar running down the side of his face, his presence unmistakable even from this distance.

This was it. This was my chance.

Without thinking, I jumped down from the tower, my heart racing. I couldn’t let him get away.

I sprinted toward the exit, ignoring the calls from the others to stay back, to regroup. But none of that mattered. Not now. Kaito had to be stopped.

I was close now, just a few steps away from the path leading into the forest. I could see him looking over his shoulder as he ran, but he didn’t seem to notice me.

I pushed myself harder, my legs moving with an unnatural speed, the distance between Kaito and me shrinking with every step. The forest blurred around me, but my focus never wavered. I couldn’t let him get away.

The sounds of battle behind us—chaos and bloodshed—faded into the background as I zeroed in on Kaito. He was my target now. Nothing else mattered.

A sudden surge of energy coursed through my body. My vision sharpened, my muscles tightened, and I moved faster than I ever had before. 

[Boost].

My body felt lighter, faster, stronger. The world slowed as my senses heightened, and everything around me became more vivid, more tangible.

I was in complete control now.

Without hesitation, I activated everything within me, pushing myself to a level beyond human. In a heartbeat, I closed the distance between us, every step a blur as I sprang forward.

Kaito didn’t even notice me until it was too late. I leapt forward, the force of my movement propelling me toward him. Just as he turned to look, I delivered a sharp kick to his side, sending him off balance. His feet slipped from under him, and with a grunt, he was thrown violently into a nearby tree.

The impact reverberated through the forest, the ground trembling slightly under the force. Kaito groaned, dazed, struggling to push himself up. 

But it was already too late. He was on the ground, vulnerable.

I took a step forward but stopped. It felt as if restraints were put on my very body. I tried to push away the hesitation that felt like a metal collar choking my neck, as if I were a prisoner to weakness.

All of a sudden, Kaito got back up, catching his breath. A chill ran down my spine as his eyes shone bright orange. 

He was a Child of Seraphane too. 

As he activated his boost, his aura flared, filling the air with a charged intensity. He swung his arm around before unsheathing the blade kept by his side, its steel gleaming wickedly.

“So this is it? The Heads send a brat to end me? Pathetic,” said Kaito, his voice dripping with disdain. His bright orange eyes burned with such intense and raw, predatory bloodlust that my fear doubled with every step he took and every move he made. It was something I had never felt before.

His words cut deep, but I tightened my grip on the hilt of my blade, forcing myself to steady my breathing. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a test of everything I had ever been taught, of everything I stood for.

Kaito lunged at me with a ferocity that left me scrambling. His every move was precise, brutal, and unrelenting. The clash of our blades echoed through the forest, his strength and speed overwhelming. Each time I tried to counter, he was already a step ahead, forcing me to retreat, parry, or barely dodge his strikes.

“You’re pathetic!” Kaito sneered, driving me back with another powerful swing. “Can’t even keep your footing. Is this what they sent to face me?”

My breath came in ragged gasps, my grip trembling as doubt seeped into my mind. His words cut deep, feeding the fear that I wasn’t ready for this. My hesitation became a noose tightening around my neck.

Kaito’s strikes grew fiercer, his predatory gaze unyielding. Each swing seemed designed not just to defeat me, but to utterly crush me. And yet, in one critical moment, his movements slowed. His blade paused mid-air, his expression shifting as his orange eyes locked onto mine.

“You…” he muttered, his voice soft, almost disbelieving. “You look just like—”

But he never finished. Reflexively, instinctively, I lunged. My blade pierced his chest, the momentum carrying me forward until we were face to face.

Time seemed to stand still.

Kaito’s eyes widened, a look of shock and pain overtaking his predatory rage. Blood sprayed from the wound, hot and wet against my hands. It soaked my grip on the hilt and trickled down my arms. The warmth of it was sickening, an undeniable reminder of what I’d just done.

I tried to pull the blade free, but it wouldn’t budge—it felt buried in him. 

My hands shook as I gripped the hilt tighter, desperate to free myself—not just from the weapon, but from the weight of what I’d done.

But my strength faltered. My knees buckled, and I sank to the ground, still clutching the blade. Kaito leaned forward, his breath ragged and uneven. His blood-soaked hand grasped my shoulder weakly, and his lips were so close to my ear that I could feel his shallow, failing breaths.

“You look… just like your father,” he whispered, his voice thin and wavering, yet eerily calm.

I froze, the world around me blurring into nothingness. His words pierced me deeper than any blade could, rooting me in place as he slumped forward, his weight dragging against the sword.

With a final gasp, Kaito’s body fell, the blade slipping free with a sickening sound. He collapsed at my feet, lifeless. His orange eyes dimmed as they stared blankly at the sky, the predatory rage gone, replaced by an almost peaceful stillness.

I stared at him, my chest heaving as bile rose in my throat. My stomach churned, the taste of acid burning in my mouth.

This wasn't strength. It was failure.

Before I could stop it, I doubled over, vomiting violently onto the forest floor. My body convulsed as the bitter taste of bile mixed with the suffocating stench of blood, the sensation overwhelming every fiber of my being.

Blood dripped from my hands, staining them as I reached for the ground to steady myself. The blade slipped from my grasp, landing in the dirt beside me with a dull thud.

Tears blurred my vision. My knees gave out completely, and I collapsed onto the forest floor. The warm blood on my hands mixed with the cold, damp earth, creating a grotesque reminder of what I had done.

The forest seemed to fall silent, the echoes of the fight replaced by the deafening thud of my heartbeat. I tried to focus, tried to steady myself, but the image of Kaito’s final moments—his last words—were etched into my mind.

The sound of my ragged breathing echoed in my ears, louder than the storm of emotions raging inside me. The forest around me blurred, its details fading in and out like a half-remembered dream. I blinked hard, the memory dissipating like mist as the cold rain brought me back to the present.

I was no longer that boy in the forest, trembling and stained with blood. 

But as I looked down at my hands—red and trembling—it was hard to tell where the past ended and the present began. The weight of the sword at my side grounded me, its cold steel pressing against my leg like an anchor.

The rain fell harder now, soaking through my clothes, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The blood on my hands felt the exact same as it always had.