The frost on the ground didn't crunch underfoot.
It whispered.
Soft trails behind us melted seconds after we passed, like the path didn't want to remember we'd come through at all.
Up ahead, rooftops emerged—sloped, sagging, silent.
The buildings weren't ruined the way time ruins things. They weren't crumbling from age or rot. They'd been… hollowed.
Carefully. The bones of a village stripped of its name.
A shredded noren hung limp in a doorway that led to nothing.
A shrine bell swayed faintly in the distance, but there was no wind.
And then—
A sound.
Tick.
A second later—another.
Tick. Tick.
Faster than a heart. Slower than a clock.
It wasn't coming from one direction.
It was everywhere.
I turned, and the world stretched—just slightly. Like someone had pulled the air thin.
Then she appeared.
Not as an entrance. Not as a revelation.
Just there.
Stepping out from behind a half-fallen house, like she'd always been waiting.
She worse layered robes, the color of dying twilight—deep indigo, almost violet—the hem soaked dark, as though it had been trailing through something old and forgotten. Her sleeves hung long. Her hands were bare. And the mask—
Black lacquer, smooth and sharp, covered the upper half of her face. What little I could see beneath it was pale. Human. But only barely.
I didn't know her.
But something inside me recoiled—and leaned forward at once.
The thread behind my ribs tensed. Not violently. Just... aware.
That color. That silence.
I'd seen them before.
But I couldn't say when.
Or where.
She looked at me like she already knew the answer.
Then she raised her hand.
The first shikigami stepped forward.
***
It moved like it was unfolding.
Not running. Not lunging. Unraveling forward—its limbs bending the wrong way. Its mask gleaming like polished bone.
Genzo stepped in front of me.
His blade drew in one clean motion, no call for heroics—just readiness.
Three more followed the first, slipping from behind warped buildings like they'd been waiting for years. Their joints clicked faintly as they moved. A sound too mechanical to be alive and too precise to be random.
I took a breath, and called the thread.
It answered.
Late.
Sluggish.
Like it didn't want to be there.
Genzo didn't wait.
He moved with a sudden burst of speed, blade flashing into the first shikigami's path—cutting across its chest in a sharp, crescent arc. It hissed, not in pain, but like something startled out of sleep.
It staggered back.
The others didn't.
Two flanked. One leapt.
I raised my hand.
Time broke.
For a heartbeat, the world split—the snow froze midair, the masks fractured in overlapping double-images, and the noise stopped.
Then it snapped back—hard.
One of the shikigami hit the ground in a heap, its mask caved in by a strike I hadn't thrown yet.
Ash scattered on the wind.
Another was already on me.
I drew my blade on instinct—steel sliding free just in time to block its first swing.
The force drove me back. My feet skidded across the frost, the creature pressing in fast with jagged limbs and too many joints.
I struck once, caught nothing.
Struck again—missed.
Too slow.
It raised a clawed arm to tear through me—
I blinked.
And rewound.
Three steps back.
The claw hadn't swung yet. I saw the opening this time—knew where it would lunge.
I didn't hesitate.
I moved before the thought could even form—ducking low, sliding beneath the blow, and cutting across its side as I passed.
A split-second burst of resistance, like slicing into frozen cloth.
Then the mask cracked from the side and split apart.
The creature staggered, twitched once—and crumbled.
I exhaled, breath fogging the air in front of me.
One left.
And it was watching.
***
The last shikigami moved slower than the others.
Not weakened—studying.
Its blank mask turned toward Genzo.
Then toward me.
Then back again.
I tightened my grip on the sword.
It didn't charge.
It simply stepped forward, arms out, dragging long fingers through the snow like it was drawing something beneath our feet.
Lines.
A pattern.
"Get back!" Genzo shouted.
The creature's body blurred slightly. For a moment it stood in two places at once—a breath ahead of itself. The pattern etched began to glow faintly beneath the snow.
Then it vanished.
The creature moved—not with speed, but inevitability. Like it had already reached us and was only now catching up.
It went for me.
I braced, raising my sword—but I was too slow.
Its shadow stretched across the ground and leapt ahead of the body, faster than I could follow. The mask loomed in front of me before I could step back.
A blur of black and silver—
And then—
Stillness.
The shikigami hung in the air mid-lunge, claws inches from my chest.
Frozen.
Not in time—in space.
The snow kept falling. The wind still moved. But the creature hovered in front of me like a blade caught mid-swing.
Behind me, Genzo stood firm. One hand extended, palm out, fingers trembling slightly.
His breath was slow, measured—but strained.
"Now!" He said. "Move!"
I didn't hesitate.
I dropped low, rolled past the creature's reaching limbs.
The moment I cleared its arc—
Genzo released it.
The shikigami shot forward again, momentum returning all at once—
—and met the full force of Genzo's blade, drawn in one clean stroke upward through its side.
It staggered. Twitched.
But it didn't fall.
I was already there.
I struck low, sweeping the katana across its legs, severing one at the joint. It fell to its side, mask hissing into the dirt.
It started to rise again.
Genzo planted his foot against its chest, pinned it, and gritted, "Finish it!"
I did.
Steel drove into the base of the mask.
The light in its body pulsed once—
Then unraveled into ash.
***
Silence followed.
The snow fell softer now.
I looked at Genzo. His hands still shook.
"What was that?" I asked.
He flexed his fingers once, like they didn't belong to him. "I don't know… but it wasn't mine."
He looked down at the fading ashes.
"But I think it used to be."
Then the ground beneath us shivered.
A low, resonant pulse moved through the soil—like something exhaling beneath the world.
Buildings began to fold inward. Snow melted in reverse. Walls pulled back into their beams like the village had never existed.
And at the far edge of the square—
The woman in indigo robes turned her back.
She walked toward the far treelike, step by step.
And as she vanished into the woods…
The village disappeared.