The forest felt different.
Asari walked ahead, the worn jacket barely clinging to his scarred frame. His steps made no sound, but the ground felt each one—trembled beneath them. Aicha followed behind in her wheelchair, the forest path uneven and overgrown, but her hands didn't hesitate. She wasn't sure if she was following a person anymore… or something else.
"Asari," she called softly, "do you know where we're going?"
He didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned the forest, as if searching for something long forgotten.
Finally, he said, "Away from everything."
Aicha frowned. "That's not an answer."
He paused mid-step, then turned slightly, enough for her to see the side of his face. "The world changed. I can smell it."
"You've been gone five years," she said. "Of course it changed."
"No," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "It's deeper than that. The balance shifted. Something… returned."
Aicha wheeled closer, brushing aside branches. "You mean like a threat?"
Asari resumed walking, slow and deliberate. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm the threat now."
She blinked. "Don't say that."
"It's not about what I say. It's what they'll believe." His tone was hollow. "A devil disappeared. Now a stronger one has returned."
Aicha's hands tightened around her wheels. "Then prove them wrong."
He didn't answer.
They continued through the forest, light filtering through twisted trees. Birds were quiet. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the faint whirr of Aicha's wheelchair and the crunch of dead leaves beneath her tires.
Finally, they came to a ridge overlooking a valley. Below, the remnants of a burned village stretched across the horizon—blackened husks of homes, smoke curling faintly from cracked chimneys. Nothing moved.
Asari stared at it.
"I remember this place," he said.
Aicha looked down. "This used to be… West Hollow."
He nodded. "I trained here before the academy. The people here were good."
"What happened to them?"
Asari crouched, fingers brushing the ashes. "Someone wanted them gone. I don't know who. But it's recent. Weeks, maybe."
"Do you think… it's related to what you sensed?"
"Probably," he said. Then, after a pause, "It's starting again."
Aicha wheeled beside him, quiet for a moment. "What is?"
He stood slowly, wind ruffling his long white hair. "The cleansing."
Her brow furrowed. "What cleansing?"
Asari turned to her, his black and red eyes locking with hers. "The same one I was created for. The one I tried to stop five years ago. It didn't end. It just… waited."
Aicha stared at him. "Then what do we do?"
His gaze shifted to the horizon. "We move. We learn who's behind this. And then—"
"And then?" she asked.
His jaw tightened. "We end it."
The word carried weight. It wasn't said in anger. It was said like a promise.
Aicha looked down at her lap. "Then I'll go with you."
He looked at her again. "Even if it means more blood?"
"I waited five years for you," she said softly. "Even if the world turns on you—I won't."
His expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. A hint of the boy he used to be.
He turned back toward the forest.
"Let's move."
They descended into the ruins. The village smelled of soot and time. Charred furniture. Collapsed roofs. Half-burned toys still lying in the dirt.
Aicha wheeled forward and stopped beside a broken well. Her eyes lingered on the empty bucket, still swaying slightly. "Why would someone do this?"
"To erase something," Asari said, examining the wreckage. "Or to awaken something buried here."
He crouched near the well, placing a hand on the stones. His eyes glowed faintly—red and black mixing like a slow storm.
"There's something deep inside," he murmured. "Something that shouldn't be touched."
Aicha leaned forward. "What is it?"
"A curse," he replied. "One old enough to predate even the academy."
The wind howled across the valley.
Then—without warning—the ground beneath them rumbled. The well cracked, sending tremors through the earth. Asari grabbed Aicha's chair and leapt back as the stone circle caved inward.
A loud screech erupted from the hole, unnatural and piercing. Then—a claw, long and rotting, burst from the well's mouth.
Aicha gasped. "What is that?!"
Asari's eyes narrowed. "A forgotten thing."
The creature pulled itself out—a twisted beast of bone and sinew, wrapped in flesh that dripped like melted wax. Eyes—dozens of them—blinded and black. It hissed, sensing them.
Asari stepped forward, bare feet silent on ash.
"Stay behind me."
Aicha reached for her dagger but froze. She could feel it—an overwhelming aura pressing down on her lungs. She couldn't move.
But Asari stood tall, unshaken.
The beast lunged.
Asari moved.
In an instant, his hand slammed into its skull, ripping through flesh and bone. Blood burst in every direction as the monster shrieked—then fell, dead before it hit the ground.
Aicha stared, wide-eyed. "You… you didn't even draw a weapon…"
Asari shook his hand clean, his voice cold. "I don't need one anymore."
She swallowed hard, heart pounding.
The devil had returned.
And now… the world would have to answer.