We should've known something was wrong with the sky.
It had been still all evening.
The air, too clean. The light, too soft. The silence—it wasn't peace. It was staged.
Konrad hadn't stirred. We'd laid him gently beneath the remnants of a wooden awning near an abandoned chapel, wrapped in two coats and silence. Clara hadn't moved from his side. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. Her hands rested in her lap like folded paper, face unreadable.
Erich stood near the tree line, arms crossed. His coat fluttered in the still air, though no wind moved.
"I don't like this," he muttered.
I didn't answer.
He turned to me. "Something's off."
"We haven't been seen," I assured. "We haven't been followed. It's quiet."
"Too quiet." He added.
I looked up.
The clouds weren't moving.
That's when it began.
A sound—not thunder. Not wind. Like silk tearing through water. A long, slow peel of pressure pulling away from the earth.
The sky blinked.
Just once.
And then it opened.
A thread—not ours—unraveled directly above us, splitting the air in a silent arc. Light didn't come through. Only shadow. It fell like water, slow and elegant, and when it touched the ground, the world beneath us… twisted.
The chapel, the trees, the dirt—it all unraveled like paper folding into itself. The light bent. The horizon curled.
Erich reached for his thread. "WATCH OU—!"
But we were already falling.
Not through space.
Through stillness.
Through her.
***
When we landed, there was no impact. Just presence.
We stood in a field that wasn't a field. The ground was pale—not white, not stone—something in between. It stretched endlessly, unmarked. No grass, no soul. Just surface.
And no shadows.
I looked behind me. Clara was on her knees beside Konrad. Still unconscious. Still breathing.
Erich stood up, turning in circles. "Where the hell are we?"
No echo.
My breath didn't sound right in my ears.
I took a step.
No footprints.
Then I saw it.
One thing stood ahead of us. Alone in the distance. Covered by fog.
A figure.
Not moving. Just standing.
It wore black. Not a robe. Not armor. Something in between—thread that seemed alive, clinging to it like breath.
Erich leaned toward me. "I don't know who that is… but it looks like trouble."
"It's Sayo." I said, my eyes fixed on her.
He turned sharply. "What?! How do you know?"
"I remember her."
Her head tilted.
Then she moved.
Her steps didn't make sound.
Clara stood.
The moment she did, the light around Sayo shifted. Not darker—just wrong. Like it bent to avoid her.
Erich stepped forward. "Sayo?"
She stopped. Then turned to face him.
She stood there, staring at him. Then—
Her shadow stretched behind her—then broke off.
It moved.
It slithered across the ground, too fast, too quiet—arcing toward us.
"Move!" I shouted.
Clara grabbed Konrad. Erich blinked. I stepped back just as the shadow struck where we'd stood.
The ground didn't crack.
It ripened.
A spear burst upward—formed from her shadow—then retracted like breath being taken back in.
Erich stared at it. "She's not playing around."
"No," I said. "She's trying to kill us."
Sayo began to walk again. Her face still hidden, her expression unreadable. But I could feel it.
She didn't recognize us.
She was attacking strangers.
She was erasing ghosts.
Clara didn't move. She set Konrad down, gently, behind her. Then she turned to face the girl.
No words.
Just her presence.
Sayo stopped again.
Her body shifting in pieces—now facing Clara.
Suddenly, her shadow exploded.
Weapons surged from the void behind her—swords, chains, scythes—all half-formed and beautiful. They floated, orbiting her like rings of broken time.
Erich exhaled, "Oh you've got to be kidding me."
I stepped forward. "Sayo." trying to reason.
She didn't respond.
I raised both hands. "We didn't abandon you!"
That stopped her.
For just a breath.
But the weapons still launched.
***
Blades rained down like comets—beautiful and deadly. Not random, not wild. Controlled. Each arc calculated, each swing aimed to cut deep. To kill.
Erich dove to the right, skidding across the smooth surface. A black halberd cracked into the space he had just occupied, embedding into the ground before dissipating into mist.
I rolled left, narrowly dodging a chain that coiled like a whip with a mind of its own.
Clara didn't move. She stood, unwavering, arms slightly out as if shielding Konrad with nothing but will. One scythe brushed past her shoulder. Her coat tore. She didn't flinch.
Sayo walked calmly through the chaos, never rushing. Her gaze tracked only movements—anyone trying to get close.
"Sayo, stop!" I shouted.
No answer. Just another volley—this time faster. Her shadow pulsed, releasing more blades that circled like hawks.
Erich blinked across the field, reappearing near Clara. "She's testing us," he said. "She's not even trying yet."
"I know." I said.
One blade flew low, aiming for my leg. I blinked back, barely avoiding it.
I tried to reason again. Still nothing.
Her face remained unreadable, Her movements mechanical. But something in her eyes—a flicker.
I dared to step forward.
A sword whipped out and cut a line across the ground in front of me.
A warning.
"I won't fight you!" I shouted.
Sayo paused.
Her shadow stilled.
Her weapons froze.
They faded—like ink dissolving into water.
She stepped forward.
One hand reached behind her, and from her own shadow, she drew a weapon. A blade. Long. Clean. Carved from the absence of light itself.
She gripped it in both hands.
And charged.
***
Erich blinked to the side, barely avoiding her swing.
I ducked, breath catching as her blade cut past.
She didn't stop. She turned. Pivoted. Moved like a dancer in silence.
Clara stayed where she was, unmoving.
Sayo saw her.
And went for her.
Her feet cut arcs into the pale ground, blade angled low, sprinting directly for Clara.
In a blink, her sword was already half-way through Clara's shoulder.
I didn't think.
I rewound.
Then blinked—through her.
We collided mid-step. My shoulder struck hers. Her blade missed its mark.
Her body spun with the impact, twisted, and landed light.
Graceful. Controlled.
Her shadow stirred.
This time, the fight had truly begun.