«You've got nowhere left to run.»
A handsome man in his early thirties stands on a rocky slope at the base of Mount Fuji.
The night around him is pitch-black.
His hair and eyes share the same warm brown color, but what draws the eye is the weapon he holds—a sword of bright, white flames, burning as if it were forged from pure fire.
A lit cigarette hangs from his lips, its ember glowing in the dark.
He points the flaming sword at a creature with human features.
The creature's eyes shine with a vivid blood-red light, and his jet-black hair shifts slightly in the breeze. A red aura pulses around him, almost like it's alive. He grips a massive greatsword with both hands, aiming it straight at the man.
The man with blood-red eyes is gravely wounded. Blood pours from a deep slash across his abdomen, staining both his clothes and the ground. Smaller cuts cover his arms and legs, dripping steadily with each movement.
His opponent, on the other hand, doesn't have a single scratch.
Behind him, a woman with long silver hair crouches on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
Tears stream down her face as she screams in desperation, her voice raw and broken. She holds two baby girls tightly in her arms—one slightly bigger than the other, neither older than two.
«N-Not… I won't let you lay a single finger on my family…!»
The man with red eyes grits his teeth, his voice thick with blood. A violent surge of crimson energy erupts from his body, and in the next instant, he charges forward like a bolt of crimson lightning.
—SWISH!
A single strike from the white-hot flame sword slices through the air, too fast and precise to be seen. The creature's head is severed clean from his body, rolling across the rocky ground.
The woman lies on the ground, paralyzed by sheer terror, but the two little girls in her arms... they smile, almost amused. Their innocent eyes see nothing more than a dazzling game of red and white lights.
She tries to stand, to shield her daughters no matter what. The moment she pushes herself up, her legs give out. She has no strength left—drained by the desperate, endless run that brought them here.
Finally, the man with brown hair lowers his gaze.
He points the blade at them. His eyes, cold and emotionless, lock onto the woman and the two children.
He takes one last drag from his cigarette... then flicks it to the ground.