First Battle

Atop the warehouse, one of the clowns pointed a finger gun once again. Irina's Spirit Vision flared up—a real bullet. There was only one difference, it was aimed directly at her. By the time she turned to look, the shot had already been fired.

Bang!

A firm hand grabbed the collar of her jacket, yanking her to the side in an instant. She collided with something solid, and multiple deafening gunshots rang out as another arm appeared beside her, firing toward the roof of the warehouse.

"Will you pay more attention?" A voice roared urgently in her ear.

Leonard?

The Poet didn't wait for her response. "Don't freeze up! Move!" He half-shouted.

... ah... right...

Irina tentatively raised her hand to her right arm. Feeling something wet, she hissed in pain. Leonard had stopped firing but didn't lower his weapon.

... this, actually hurts a lot...

"It's just a graze," he said, his voice tight but composed. "Nothing as serious as falling out of a window."

Yes but... this is... a real battle. Not... just a game...

His hand released her jacket, pulling her further back from the escalating conflict. The fight raged on, but Irina sank to her knees. The pounding headache returned, and with the fresh searing pain in her shoulder, everything around her started to blur.

Please... not now...

Amid the loud gunshots, Irina failed to notice that one of the clowns had already entered the warehouse.

... just a little longer... I'm almost there...

Suddenly, an abnormal and tragic wail echoed from inside the warehouse, snapping Irina back to reality.

"W-what?"

The cry carried an overwhelming sense of fear, as though the source had encountered something beyond comprehension.

... already?

The cries stopped abruptly, plunging the warehouse into a skin-crawling stillness.

Bang!

Aiur, distracted by the eerie wail, only managed to shoot the suited clown in the belly. The silence was broken again by soft panting that grew louder and more frantic, tightening everyone's nerves.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Irina's gaze flickered toward the black chest, where she saw 2-049 enter a frenzied state. The rapid panting and ferocious knocking alternated, making the entire team uneasy, as if they were hearing some evil murmur.

Amidst the chaos, she refocused on the fight. The suited clown fled, pursued by Aiur, Dunn, and Lorotta, their gunfire echoing in the warehouse. The haunting cries still raging within.

Peering through the shield Leonard provided, Irina could barely believe the scene unfolding before her.

This is actually happening...

Trembling, disbelief shook her to the core as shaky words escaped her lips. "T-this feels... too r-real. And... i-it's j-just the beginning..."

Bang!

The door of the innermost warehouse suddenly exploded, sending fragments flying in all directions. Something wrapped in a torn cloth flew out, landing not far from her. The stench of iron filled her nose as her quivering gaze locked onto it.

A torn arm.

Its bloody flesh had been thoroughly chewed, the white bones jutted out in irregular, jagged shapes. Blood droplets sprayed from the broken door, raining down all around her, staining her clothes and landing on her face.

Eyes and ears had been brutally ripped out; half a beating heart, along with intestines filled with yellowish-brown objects, covered the ground.

Irina's vision blurred. Her fellow Nighthawks faded into indistinct shapes as all sound became muffled echoes. Her limbs felt foreign, disconnected from her body.

No, no, no... NO!

She tried to focus, grounding herself to reality, repeating the mantra she had told herself over and over the past month.

Come on... this is nothing more than a novel... it's supposed to be scary...

Her fingers grazed the blood on the ground, but it didn't register. It was like touching ink, something fake and far away. A prop in a story. She couldn't even feel the warmth of it anymore.

The voices around her became muffled, distorted like characters speaking in dialogue she could barely comprehend. They're not real... none of this is real... Her mind tried to insist that this was just another plot twist, something written down by a cruel author, something to be fixed and later forgotten with the turn of a page.

Irina's eyes flickered to the towering, grotesque figure emerging from the warehouse, its limbs twisted unnaturally as if been snapped by force. But it's all a story. A gruesome, horror-filled tale, sure, but still just a story. The blood, the screams, the terror—it was fiction, wasn't it? It has to be. She could almost hear the invisible narrator, spinning the words, creating such twisted novel.

This isn't reality... it can't be. I'm just... a normal employee having fun with my coworkers... not...

Her wide eyes were locked on the creature as its mouth moved, revealing a jagged, discolored tooth—porcelain-like but splintered and wrong. Threads of bloody saliva stretched between its cracked lips, and inside, something moved. Flesh and bone, twisted and broken, mixed together in a grotesque mess.

... it's a novel. It's not real. This isn't my life—it's just a story.

A loud gunshot rang out. It echoed in the distance but felt muffled to her ears, like a scene cut straight from an action sequence in some story. Leonard stood no more than three meters away, his presence solid, real. The smell of gunpowder mingled with the stench of decay, but Irina felt detached, as if watching through a screen, as if the scene before her belonged on the pages of a book.

I'm a normal person, living a normal boring life.

She could feel her senses dulling, her vision blurring again, and her thoughts retreating deeper into the comforting illusion she had wrapped around herself.

It's a novel. This is just similar to reality, but it isn't real. It can't be real.

Irina couldn't break free from the fog surrounding her mind, it just felt so warm and comforting. Everything else around her was blurry, surreal, like it couldn't possibly exist in the world she knew.

Just a novel...

Reality, with all its horror and cruelty, was simply wrong.

... just a...

Leonard's demon-hunting bullet slammed into Ray Bieber's forehead, tearing right through and leaving a deep hole.

Pallez huffed in his mind, I'm telling you, it won't work.

YOU SAY?! Just what creature wouldn't be affected after getting shot in the damn forehead? One that left a big hole, no less!

Grayish-white liquid oozed from the wound, dripping to the ground and morphing into fat, cream-colored maggots.

That looks... utterly disgusting.

Yet, the monster remained unfazed. With unsettling swiftness, it lunged at Borgia, its true target appearing to be the black chest containing Sealed Artifact 2-049.

"The loss of control over Beyonder powers..." the Captain's voice cut through the chaos.

Dunn's deep voice followed, "Lorotta, it looks like a dead soul. Quickly, find its weakness!"

A quick "Alright" was all Lorotta said before raising her hands to press down on her eyes. Her pupils turned gray, then colorless, as though she had stepped into the world of spirits and dead souls. She scanned the monster from above, searching for its 'node.'

Pallez grumbled, Hey, that Nightmare is preparing to sing. Why not join him?

I know, I'm not blind...

Leonard Mitchell and Aiur Harson began singing in unison, "Oh, the threat of horror, the hope of crimson cries!

One thing at least is certain—that this Life flies;

One thing is certain, and the rest is Lies;

The Flower that once has bloomed forever dies..."

The poem's power, with its promise of peaceful slumber, radiated outward. The twisted, grayish-white monster gradually slowed down, as if unable to resist its allure.

Suddenly, it unleashed a piercing shriek, imperceptible to ordinary ears.

Ah!

Sharp pain exploded in Leonard's head, causing him to stumble and collapse. Warm liquid flowed from his nose—blood. Both he and Aiur showed signs of strain, crimson dripping from their lips, noses, and eyes. Borgia, Dunn, and Lorotta took a step back, their faces pale, while Klein wiped at the blood streaming from his own nose.

Leonard, unable to turn, had no idea how Irina was faring. He could only hope she was unharmed. Surely, her protection would shield her, right?

The monster's single shriek had pushed all seven Beyonders to their limits, leaving them weakened.

Bam!

It closed in on Borgia, its twisted joints swinging dangerously.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Borgia and Dunn fired twice each, but the bullets did nothing to Monster Bieber.

Bang!

A blow from the creature sent Borgia flying, his long-barreled revolver tumbling to the ground.

Not good. At this rate, it'll pick us off one by one...

Leonard tried to stand but his legs refused to cooperate.

Stringy liquid oozed from the corner of Monster Bieber's mouth as it leaped toward the black chest.

Oh no!

Bang!

In a crucial moment, Aiur Harson fired a shot at the chest, knocking it some distance away, preventing the monster from grabbing it. The impact sent the box sliding over ten meters, and as it cracked, the thumping inside grew louder and more intense.

Suddenly, Lorotta's voice rang out, "Found it!"

"I need you to hold it for at least three seconds," she shouted.

Dunn wasted no time. He raised a hand to his glabella, closed his eyes, and murmured, "Alright."

He seemed to fall asleep as Monster Bieber abruptly froze, the madness in its eyes fading. Its thin, transparent eyelids began to close uncontrollably.

Lorotta didn't hesitate. She rolled under Monster Bieber with fluid precision, supporting herself with one hand while raising a clenched fist. She bombarded its crotch like artillery.

She ignored the corrosive pain, supporting herself against the ground as she gathered more strength. Her fist dug deeper.

Rip!

Lorotta pulled out her forearm, dragging with it an intestine streaked with brownish-yellow blood stains. Nestled within was an ancient notebook.

Though Leonard heard Pallez muttering, his focus remained on the unfolding chaos.

Monster Bieber let out a blood-curdling scream, his body starting to glow as though it was melting.

"Get down!" Someone shouted urgently.

Monster Bieber suddenly swelled.

Boom!

Amidst the deafening explosion, Leonard was flung into the air by the shockwave, crashing down hard.

Struggling to his feet, his head pounding, Leonard's gaze fell upon the grotesque sight of Monster Bieber disintegrating into rotting, decaying flesh.

Ugh... is that what Pallez was trying to warn me about?

Dunn and Lorotta are knocked out. Not ideal...

Aiur Harson, Borgia, and Klein lay on the ground too, some groaning, others struggling to stand but failing.

Wait, where's Irina?

As the chaos settled, Leonard scanned the area for the History Teacher, missing the black chest a few meters away from Klein. Its cracked surface now faced upward. A skinny brown arm extended from the chest. Klein turned to run but his movements became sluggish, killing any chance of escape.

The seer's knees and ankles emitted a horrifying, ear-piercing sound as he took slow, contorted steps counterclockwise. His left foot lifted awkwardly, completing some sort of ritual with jerky precision.

Everything stilled—no movement—no sound. Not even Sealed Artifact 2-049 budged, freezing completely.

Finally catching sight of Irina relatively unharmed behind him, Leonard tried to sit up.

Meanwhile, Klein nodded weakly as a transparent 'curtain' shimmered a few meters away, revealing the suited clown who had fled earlier, his face painted in pastel clown makeup. He was none other than the Secret Order member.

The seer's back was to the black chest and its puppet, the suited clown, who stood cautiously in front of him, maintained a safe distance. He carefully pulled out a long paper slip, shaking it until it straightened like a wooden pole.

At a distance of two to three meters, the suited clown gave Klein's shoulder a prod with the paper pole, attempting to rouse him.

But before it could touch his shoulder, the seer suddenly grabbed its edge and yanked it backward.

Caught off guard, the suited clown staggered forward, closing the gap between him and Klein to less than two meters.

Without hesitation, Klein squeezed the trigger of his revolver.

Bang! Bang!

Did he shoot the side of Sealed Artifact 2-049?

Leonard, watching the scene unfold, questioned his actions. Pallez, however, seemed to grasp the significance. Good idea. That Seer is not half bad.

Unable to converse freely with the old man, the poet kept his question to himself.

Klein released the wooden pole and swiftly moved away from danger, leaving the suited clown disoriented and struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

Just as the clown rolled twice, preparing to leap back, his thoughts became sluggish, his head buzzing.

No way! Is that what Klein was aiming for?

The suited clown stopped mid-motion, attempting to crawl out with joints that moved like rusty machinery.

Wait... how is Klein unaffected by 2-049?

Out of reflex, Leonard opened his mouth to ask Pallez but paused, observing the seer's next move. With both hands steady on his revolver, Klein aimed at the slowly crawling clown.

He's going to—

Bang!

In the suited clown's indescribable eyes, the black-suited Klein calmly pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The silver bullet shot through the short distance, piercing the clown's neck. Blood gushed out, dyeing his skin and bow tie a deep crimson.

The clown gasped, his throat producing desperate, gurgling sounds. He tried to raise his arm to cover the wound, but his joints seemed stuck, his movements slow and jerky.

Bang!

Having entered a half-cogitation state, Klein wasn't startled by the sight of blood. He pulled the trigger again, calmly, as though it were just another part of his daily routine.

Leonard stood in stunned silence while Pallez praised the Seer, Quite a cold-blooded man, even though he's just a Sequence 9.

A gaping hole appeared on the suited clown's forehead as crimson red spewed out. The light in his eyes dimmed as his knees buckled, arms hanging limply. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes frozen in a dazed expression. His body convulsed a few times before it finally stilled.

Wow. Klein is...

Having delivered the headshot, he turned around with cool composure. He spun his revolver, letting the empty shells fall to the ground. Dressed in his black formal suit and halved top hat, he approached Aiur Harson, carefully loading the final silver demon-hunting bullet into the chamber.

The gentleman in the gray windbreaker struggled to sit up but failed with every attempt. His clothes were covered in dust and mud from the earlier fall.

Squatting down beside him, Klein pointed the revolver at the ground to avoid any accidental discharge. "Mr. Harson, what do you need me to do?"

Aiur gasped for breath and sighed, "The monster was too strong... if not for its weakness..."

He pointed at a sky-blue metal bottle beside him and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I was trying to drink some medicine, but my hand... it shook."

Klein reached for the bottle and, with narrowed eyes, noted, "Mr. Harson, there are only a few drops left in the bottle."

Aiur, still gasping, instructed, "Go to... borgia and search his body. Check his inner pockets."

The seer stood up casually. "Alright. Is this some kind of healing medicine?"

The other tried to sit up again but failed. "No... it has some restorative effects, but its main purpose is to stimulate our minds... and squeeze out the potential of our bodies. It keeps us going for a short time until we can get proper treatment. It's called the Goddess's Gaze. Be sure to give Borgia half a bottle."

Without wasting time, Klein briskly moved to where Borgia lay groaning in pain. He found the familiar sky-blue bottle in Borgia's pocket and carefully uncapped it. Holding it to Borgia's mouth, Klein let the dark red liquid flow in, stopping when he estimated the right amount. He then screwed the cap back on.

The medicine worked quickly. Moments after swallowing, the color returned to Borgia's eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

Klein tended to his wounds before retrieving another bottle for Aiur. Once done, he suggested that the seer help the others, Leonard and Irina.

With no objections, Klein jogged to Leonard, who, despite his disheveled hair, smiled and raised the bottle. "No need. I can drink it myself."

I was right. You, dear Seer, are special... Leonard thought with a smirk.

Just as Klein's eyes narrowed slightly, Leonard, who was walking toward him, chuckled softly, "I wanted to save you, but it seems you didn't need it. Don't mind me. There are many special people in this world who can always do things others can't... like you."

Obviously...

The poet smiled, continuing his path toward the awakening Dunn and Lorotta. He added playfully, "...and me."

I wonder, what are you hiding? Leonard mused as Klein walked away.

Turning his attention to Irina, who knelt in silence, the seer offered her the bottle. She snatched it from his hand and drank half of it without a word.

Unfazed, Klein extended a hand to help her up. She accepted, and they regrouped with the rest of the team, each lost in their own thoughts.

Captain Dunn, focused on retrieving the Antigonus family notebook, approached it cautiously, using a cloth to protect his hands from the yellowish-brown blood stains.

But just as he reached out, Irina, who had been quiet until then, suddenly screamed, "DON'T TOUCH THAT!"